The Marquis Doll Adventures

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 1


Contents

Volume 1 - Express Delivery .................................3

Volume 2 – Club Soda........................................17

Volume 3 – A Shot in the Dark ............................34

Volume 4 – Teddy Bear’s Picnic ...........................46

Volume 5 – Bend and Stretch..............................62

Volume 6 – Jell-O and Cream..............................73

Volume 7 – Mom’s Home Cookin’.........................83

Volume 8 – Party Glitter .....................................97

Volume 9 – Dungeons and Dragons ................... 110

Volume 10 – Light and Dark ............................. 121

Volume 11 – East of Eden................................. 130

Volume 12 – Never Look Back........................... 144

Volume 13 – Club Sandwich.............................. 159

Volume 14 – But You Can’t Hide........................ 174

Volume 15 – Maximum Exposure....................... 184

Volume 16 – Welcome to the World ................... 196


Volume 1 - Express Delivery

Part 1

“Here you go, Missy,” the man in the ticket booth said, holding up a ten-trip subway pass to the City, “Now all we have to do is negotiate the price.”

I was inside the closed booth with him at this point, blinds down, vaguely aware of other travelers passing unseen just outside. I was pressed close against him, his nose almost against my cleavage. This was going to be just too easy, I thought, taking the proffered ticket from his hand and slipping it into my purse.

“Oh, I know what the price is,” I replied, stepping away and spinning slowly to give him the full effects of my ass and hips as I undid the short leather miniskirt and let it fall to the floor.

“And I think you'll be very happy to accept my offer.”

I unzipped the tight leather jacket and let it slip down, pulling my shoulders back to display those pert tits whose size and curvature had long ago been calculated to appeal to the maximum number of people – male, female and everything between and beyond.

I turned again, allowing him to glimpse the second vagina my Kind have, just between my breasts.

“A trip round the houses,” I suggested, licking my lips and fixing him with my smile.

His eyes widened as he realized what he was seeing. He was already reaching for me, the bulge hardening in his trousers.

“No holes barred,” I breathed, as he fingered the soft and increasingly moist opening between my tits.

Twenty minutes later, I was on my way, clutching the Metro pass I had procured. I left the ticket man sitting on


the booth floor, his trousers around his ankles, rolling a reefer.

He had come twice, hard: once deep in my throat and once, a few minutes later, in the opening between my breasts. I worked him well and drained him dry, the powerful muscles inside the cunt in my chest holding him tight while I caressed his balls and fingered his ass to squeeze out every drop of his thick and sticky cum. Like my mouth, my extra pussy eventually drains into my stomach. I was very glad of his semen; I had not had any breakfast that morning.

Part 2

I share a flat with my friend Renie. Through Steve, her boyfriend, I get occasional jobs as a messenger and courier. They’re rarely dull, often exciting and extremely variable, and I’m always delighted when he suggests a job for me. I had learned about this particular delivery assignment the previous evening in the flat.

Renie is a shemale, a dick-girl: she has both a cock and a cunt. Her vagina is always wet and accommodating, her cock petite but beautifully formed. She also has the most delightful breasts with dark nipples, both a little larger than mine, and so much more sensitive.

When Steve arrived, Renie and I were fucking, lying on the oversized futon mattress we share most nights. We had adopted our favorite position: this is where she straddles me in reverse, with her cock inserted as deep as it will go into the opening between my breasts. The position allows me to both lick and finger her cunt and, later on, I'll lick my thumb and slide it into her ass.

She likes it when I massage her with my fingertips against the sensitive spot inside her, just where the lips come together to form the base of her cock. This movement makes her dick rock-hard, which is nice for me, and her opening very damp, which she likes a lot. As she gets wetter and wetter, I slip first one, then two fingers inside her; sometimes she gets so hot I can slide all of my fingers into her cunt, fisting her to an intense orgasm almost immediately.


“Tania, honey”, Renie said, looking up from her task of licking my clit, “Steve's here.”

Steve loves it when Renie and I fuck. He often sits on the couch watching, stroking his rock-hard manhood for hours while us girls fuck and writhe and squeal with orgasm after orgasm. Somehow he always knows when we're about to come for the last time. He stands up from the sofa, raises Renie’s head by the simple expedient of pulling on her long dark hair, and forces his dick deep into her throat, coming inside her after only a few seconds.

As always, I came explosively by rubbing my clit with two fingers – only the vulva between my legs has a clitoris – while Renie jerked her load into my other opening. Sometimes I wish Steve would come in my mouth instead, but after all he is Renie's boyfriend – so I really cannot begrudge her that.

After the workout, we sat together on the couch, sipping the whiskey Steve had brought with him, and nibbling chunks from the chocolate bar he had pulled from the same brown bag. Steve often brings Renie treats – drugs and food and booze – and they frequently share them with me.

I slipped the square of candy I had been handed into my mouth, reveling in the rich sweet taste – like the chocolate-flavored oil Renie likes to massage into her cock – although sometimes I wonder if she does this just to get me to lick it.

I can only tolerate a small amount of simple carbohydrates - they tend to make me bloated. Fortunately, the fats in the cacao and milk were enough to keep my discomfort at bay, as long as I ate the candy sparingly.

As we ate and drank and fooled around on the couch, Steve told me about the pickup and drop-off I would be making the following day. The details all seemed straightforward enough, although I would need to make an early start if I was to make the scheduled delivery time.

Business attended to, Steve started sucking Renie's cock. I knew this was the usual precursor to Renie sucking his dick to hardness before she fucks him in the ass. Steve likes to control his own orgasms, taking his time, and started by stroking his own cock rhythmically while he ran his tongue around the head of Renie’s delightful penis. Already


moaning aloud, Renie then bent over and took Steve’s cock in her own mouth, so that they were each swallowing the other’s dick.

Disengaging himself, Steve knelt down on the mattress to take Renie's smaller manhood inside him, again wanking himself slowly and methodically while Renie’s tits bounced and jiggled.

Watching the two lovers enjoying each other and knowing that they would be engrossed for an hour or so, I sat back against the cushions at the head of the bed, reaching behind the pillow for one of my favorite toys, an oversize pink dildo with a sucker on the end.

This one is too big for the cunt on my chest, but fills me just perfectly between the legs. I moistened the toy in my mouth, then up-ended it on the hardwood floor, pressing the sucker down hard to make sure it stayed put. No way I wanted it to slide away from under me!

I squatted down over the dildo, allowing it to slip inside, well-lubricated by the spit Renie had provided while licking me out earlier. Well, the exercise keeps my thighs and buttocks in trim, I suppose.

As I eased myself down onto the huge pink plastic cock, I thought, “Better not make it a late night tonight.”

Part 3

I awoke the following morning in a tangle of pillows and cushions, mostly under the king-size duvet the three of us had shared. Renie was still snoring, while Steve was idly playing with his morning hard-on, stroking his glistening helmet with slow deliberate movements.

I briefly toyed with the idea of helping him with that, but he looked as if he was going to wake Renie by slipping his cock inside her cunt as she slept which would be, I knew from intimate experience, still wet with the juices from last night's playtime. Instead, I slipped out from under the covers and went to have a shower.

Perhaps I should explain who I am, and indeed what I am, in case you have been living under a rock in the Midwest for the last two hundred years. Looking at myself in the full-length mirror in the bathroom, I realized that a person from


that previous age would have thought, at first glance, that I was wearing fingerless gloves of fine soft leather which reached beyond my elbows, with a low-cut bodice and hold-up stockings of the same chocolate brown material, together with knee-length high-heel boots in a darker hue. Actually, the leathery skin is all me, even the boot heels: I need to scuff the soles of my feet regularly to prevent the horny tissue from becoming too smooth and slippery.

I am a Marquis Doll, named, I'm told, after some old book or movie or something from ages ago. The extra opening in my chest where a man – or at least someone with a cock – can enter me while pressing against my tits is a bonus feature granted long ago. I can have powerful orgasms when thoroughly fucked there, enhanced by the sensation of my nipples being stimulated by the same movements.

As for the rest of me, well, from the top down: my head hair is thick and dark – almost black – and naturally completely straight. I tend to grow it long – at least when I can be bothered to think about lengthening or shortening it. Fortunately, given my hectic lifestyle, my hair needs little maintenance, requiring little more than washing it through with water and shaking it dry afterwards.

My eyes are large and dark, the skin naturally black around them, and framed by long and curved eyelashes. Otherwise, though, I'm genetically hairless from the eye-line down. My lips are a deep red – all three pairs – and my teeth are white, numerous and not at all sharp.

The skin on my arms and legs is exceptionally tough, not really sensitive to either heat or cold, and is very easy to keep clean. I just needed to rinse myself down and occasionally rub in an oil or lotion or polish to keep myself healthy and shiny.

I have all of my sensitive feelings, my sexual sensations, concentrated in my fingertips, my face, around my neck and breasts, and in a broad swathe of flesh from waist to upper thigh. My skin here is much lighter – the shade a man I once knew called Café au Lait, although I am not sure why.

As always, I give these more receptive areas the careful attention they deserve while the shower water runs: first soaping my breasts and nipples before carefully cleaning all of my openings: my mouth, both cunts and my ass. I then


rubbed all of my lips and openings with the softening oils which are recommended for my kind.

Of course this is really quite pleasurable, and I achieve, as almost always, my first two orgasms of the day; just tiny ones, of course, “willy-nillys”, as my first real girlfriend used to call them, back when we used to play with each other in quiet corners of the playground, oh, so very long ago now.

As I emerged from the shower, I admired my slender and muscular shape in the mirror – boy, I look hot today! – especially my slender legs, tight ass and muscular thighs. I keep myself in trim by energetic and very frequent sex, as well as walking everywhere; the natural height of my heels keeps my muscles flexible and strong.

My need, or at least desire for food is rather limited, and the slenderness of my waist and flatness of my stomach is aided by the fact that I have no reproductive organs inside me. I have no womb, no ovaries, none of the biological mechanisms I would never use, and therefore no monthly periods either. Still, since everyone these days lives practically forever, my inability to have a child is no great loss.

Looking myself over in the mirror, I dried myself under the ceiling-mounted hot air blower, still tingling from the orgasms in the shower. I then slipped on the leather miniskirt and zipped jacket – I never wear underwear, what would the point be? – collected my little satchel purse and set off.

Behind me, the louder groans and sounds of movement suggested that Steve had succeeded in waking Renie. Glancing back, I could see she was now giving him anal reverse cowboy, his cock deep in her back passage. Her breasts bounced as she rode him hard, one hand fingering her own opening – a long nail rubbing up against the G-spot I had been massaging only last night – and the other hand jerking her own oiled member.

In a private moment, she had confided that she had wanted to improve her synchronization, to achieve simultaneous orgasms for the two of them, and that she particularly wanted to be able to spurt on her own tits at precisely the same moment Steve ejaculated into her ass.


Right now, she seemed to me to be close to achieving that goal.

“See you later,” I called gaily, closing the door behind me, “Enjoy each other, lovers.”

Part 4

The Metro trip itself was uneventful, the Automation recognizing my newly-acquired pass without comment. The crowd was sparse; just the usual Saturday morning mixture of stoned party-goers returning to their city-centre lofts and prosperous-looking shoppers on the lookout for an early bargain.

I politely fended off the advances of a sexy-looking satyr, his enormous curved member not quite hidden by the thick curly hair that covered his body from the waist down, and the short jacket that so many of his kind wore. I was already in danger of running late, and I really did not have time for another diversion this morning.

In case you're wondering, I do have conventional money - a modest line of credit based on my irregular incomes and keyed to my biometrics. I could have flashed my card and confirmed the transaction with my fingerprints, and just bought the Metro ticket for a couple of Kays. But that would make this particular errand overtly plain to anyone who cared to look, and the approach I used avoided the use of easily traceable credit. Besides, it was much more fun my way.

Or, I could have just used cash. But hard currency is becoming increasingly rare these days. They've never actually made it illegal, probably afraid of the backlash that would have caused, but it just seems to be in desperately short supply.

Steve, who makes a habit of tracking all of the current conspiracy theories, says that the reason we still have, for example, manned booths on the Metro is to provide a way of absorbing all of the floating cash back into the mainstream banking system. Maybe he’s right; I don’t know, or care much. In any case, I'd like to keep the small amount of emergency cash I'd concealed in a number of places for real emergencies.


The meet for the pick-up was in a Starbucks in a fashionably expensive downtown shopping mall, wedged right next to a furrier. I was a few minutes early, so I wiled away the time stood in front of the shop window admiring the display of garments within. All Reel Fur™, an animated label proudly announced - although of course these days made without anything resembling Real Animals being involved.

A golden knee-length fur coat caught my eye, which would have complemented the chocolate brown of my arms and legs, and given me the perfect foil for flashing my more intimate assets both front and back. As they say, it would have made me look like a million dollars, which was just as well, since that was almost exactly what it cost.

It was overpriced, of course – I would have expected to pay less than a third of that – but would be exactly the kind of thing I would need to bag a sugar-daddy.

Emerging from my daydream, I shook my head, and marched on to the cafe next door.

The 'Bucks was sited on a busy corner - aren't they always - but at this early hour it was nearly deserted. There were a couple of earnest-looking student-y types hunched over their latte grandes and study tablets, presumably trying to catch up with some overdue assignment. They barely looked up when I entered the building.

At first I thought there was no-one else in the place. I was about to turn around when someone I recognized stuck his head around the corner of a booth right at the back. His name was Johnny – no other name was known to me – and he beckoned me to join him at his table.

“Here’s our delivery girl,” he said, “Want a latte frappe?”

I declined the offer of a coffee – caffeinated drinks make me jittery all day – but accepted a Fruitie Yogart Smoothie™ which, although certainly smooth, contained more saturated fats and synthetic complex starches than anything resembling either fruit or yogurt.

“Suit yourself,” he replied.


As Jonny spoke the automation delivered it to our table in the blur of near-unseen movement that is both familiar and so easy to ignore. I pulled up a chair and sat demurely.

Next to Johnny stood a tall and curvaceous figure, a woman with a deeply retro appearance. She looked like a movie star from a century or two ago: a tight red dress with a plunging cleavage and split to the thigh - although I suspected that the nipple cutaways in the frock were probably not historically accurate.

A mass of tight blonde ringlets cascaded from her head was complemented by pancake makeup and bright rouge on her cheeks, and teetering high heels - real shoes, I noted. She was a Norm, as far as I could tell, at least without getting a lot closer. Fun thought to try, though.

The woman’s pose went as far as including the whole cigarette-on-a-stick thing I had seen here and there, now that smoking is no longer bad for you, but frankly never quite understood. She glared at me through a carefully contrived roiling cloud of smoke with the air of one who had acquired their daddy and weren't prepared to share him.

“Hello, Johnny,” I said. “Steve didn't mention it was you doing the handover.”

A sneer, or at least a half-hearted attempt at one, creased his face.

“Steve has a tight circle of, um, acquaintances,” he drawled, “You shouldn't be surprised if the same few guys come up again and again.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I replied, mimicking his voice.

Johnny turned to the statuesque blonde.

“Hand it over, Dollface,” he said, holding out a manicured hand. I do like that in a man: clean and well-shaped nails on strong yet slender fingers - especially those belonging to one who likes to slip then inside you on a regular basis.

The woman put her smoking stick in her mouth, pouting in my direction as she did so. A long, pale and very sexy leg emerged from the slit dress as she lifted her high-heeled shoe to rest on the table next to me. She bent forward and reached with both hands into the slit in her dress, very obviously caressing herself between her legs


I had a grandstand seat for the show, as she must have known I would. I could see the slender fingers of one hand separate the outer lips of her vagina, the bright red of her fingernails contrasting with the softer pink of her labia. With the thumb and forefinger of the other hand, she reached inside her moist opening. Judging by the way her face reacted to her own touch, she was already performing a series of rhythmic pelvic floor thrusts.

After a few moments, her hand emerged holding a heavy-looking metal sphere, elaborately engraved and inlaid in bright enamel colors, and glistening moistly with her most intimate juices.

“The naughty girl!” I thought, then added mentally, “Why didn't I think of that!”

She handed the ball to Johnny, again looking disdainfully at me. He briefly licked the object clean, clearly enjoying the no-doubt familiar taste. He unscrewed the sphere and took something from its inside which he flicked casually across the table at me.

Johnny carefully re-assembled the ball, choosing this time to return it to its previous hiding-place himself. The Dollface twisted and her mouth opened involuntarily as the now-cool ball was pressed between her lips. I could feel the muscles in my own pussy tautening as I imagined what it must feel like. Remind me to try this at home, kids.

I drew my attention back to the item on the table. The package was a sealed plastic bag, through which could be seen the swirl and glitter of automation. I guessed it would not allow itself to be picked up by the wrong person. I also knew the contents must be valuable - no-one wastes such expensive packaging on everyday drugs or data.

“What is it?” I demanded, more because I felt I should ask, rather than any particular desire to know.

Johnny shook his head.

“I could tell you,” he sneered, “But then I'd have to kill you.”

All three of us laughed aloud at this. It was so hard these days to kill or even seriously hurt anyone - unless they


wanted you to, of course - that people have basically given up even trying.

“You know the address,” he asked, as I slipped the tiny package into my purse and made to leave.

“Sure,” I said. Steve had in fact remembered to tell me this detail, although this kind of thing has been known to slip his mind occasionally.

“It’ll get there,” I added, mainly for the benefit of the Dollface, “Don’t you worry your pretty little heads about that.”

Part 5

The destination was in an obscure but well-to-do suburb beyond the end of subway line J. I needed to make just one change at one of the quieter stops downtown. The platform was bustling with business types in crisp and expensive-looking suits. I felt just a little out of place and I sat unobtrusively on a bench waiting for the connecting train.

I passed the time by people-watching, a diversion surely enjoying since time immemorial. I was sure I spotted another Marquis Doll, a blonde, dressed in a smart grey suit jacket and matching miniskirt. Her legs were covered in faux tights – lighter in color than my own – and dainty but very high heels. A successful executive, or someone's executive squeeze, I thought, a bonus in the boardroom. Well, either way, good luck to her.

My connecting train arrived and I rode on to the terminus. Apparently, I was now faced with a walk of about twenty minutes, according to the Mapz™ I had acquired some months before.

This piece of Value-Add Pervasive Automation – VAPAware, in the jargon – was invaluable for this kind of job, guiding me infallibly to any destination I cared to speak aloud. It worked by producing arrows, in flashing Day-Glo orange, apparently imprinted on everyday objects – sidewalks, trees, fences – even passers-by on the streets. No-one else could see these directional signs.

Acquiring the Mapz™ had cost me an all-day fuckathon which I remembered through a haze of affection and lust. I had felt quite sore in at least three places, and it must have


been nearly twelve hours – and the close attention of the pervasive automation – before I was able to fuck anyone again.

The sun was way high by the time I arrived, just a little tired by my exertions and certainly perspiring a little. A droplet of sweat had formed on my left breast. Amused, I guided it down into my cleavage, dampening my upper cunt. I could feel myself moistening from the inside, too, but I shook my head and strode onwards.

“Business first,” I said to myself firmly.

My destination was a long, low building – nowhere more than two floors high – mostly surrounded by overgrown hedges and rough stone walls. It looked like Old Money; it had probably been in the same family for centuries.

The mansion was approached by a wide high gate. The local automation must have been briefed – or just deduced – that I was expected and the gate slid open in near-silence as I walked towards it. I followed a short pathway up to the formal old-fashioned front door, which was closed and apparently locked. I was unsure what to do: there was no sign of anything as archaic was a bell-push, and I wondered if I was really expected.

Just at that moment, I heard voices from around the back of the mansion. I followed the sound curiously, following a narrow gravel pathway though the undergrowth. At the rear of the house were a wide deck and a swimming pool. The pool contained two young-looking people, the source of the cries I had heard earlier. A boy and a girl, both blonde and very well tanned, and quite naked were splashing around - and very obviously fooling around too.

They stopped as I approached - well, mostly; I could still see her hand grasping the boy's cock while she spoke to me.

“Hi,” she said brightly, smiling up at me from the water's edge, “Looking for someone?”

“I'm told Mister Yamamoto lives here,” I answered equally perkily, not to be outdone.

On a whim, I walked up and stood right at the edge of the pool, legs astride. I thought both of them appreciated the view, and I was almost sure the young man’s cock stiffened


appreciably in the other woman’s hand as he casually looked up my skirt.

“Jackie Y. Yeah, he’s around somewhere,” the girl drawled laconically.

At that moment, a bear-like man, tall and genuinely strong rather than the physique of a gymnasium bodybuilder emerged from the darkened interior of the house. He had no obvious Japanese features that I could identify, and was wearing a lemon-yellow bathrobe and hastily-donned sunglasses.

“What do you want?” he asked bluntly.

I took the package from my purse and held it up.

“You’re the delivery agent?”

I nodded.

“OK, come inside,” he muttered, turning on his heel and returning to the coolness of the interior.

I followed him, stepping into a large open area - at least judging from the echoing sounds and sense of air movements - and filled with hulking shapes I could not immediately recognize.

Once my eyes had adapted to the low light, I found I was standing in an area which must have occupied more than half of the volume of the mansion, from basement level to roof beams with monumental sculptures. The room was filled with abstract forms which all gave the most striking impression of sadness and decay, without recognizably depicting anything concrete I could identify.

In this day and age, different people reacted in different ways to our age of infinite leisure. Many people adopt a hobby – often, more an overwhelming passion, a zealous enthusiasm for some artistic endeavor or other. Jackie Yamamoto was clearly one of these types, wiling away the decades in the pursuit of some artistic ideal.

I handed over the package I had been given. Jackie gave a grunt of acknowledgement before taking my money card briefly in his hand to make the payment for delivery. After that, he ignored me completely. He seemed engrossed in


the object I had delivered, peering at it with, I suspected, senses augmented by the pervasive automation.

“I’ll just go them, shall I?” I asked flippantly.

He waved a dismissive hand vaguely in my direction, not taking his attention from the delivery for a second. I stumbled my way outside and stood blinking in the bright sunlight for a moment.

The boy and girl in the pool turned to watch me closely.

“What's eating him?” I asked.

“Don't you mind Jack,” the boy answered, “He's just a bit distracted. He’s really into his art at the moment, ya know, and it’s not going so well.”

I shrugged, and turned to leave, striding across the poolside flagstones. Before I had taken more than a dozen steps, the female half of the friendly couple in the pool called to me.

“You look hot,” she said with a giggle, “Why not join us for a refreshing dip?”

Hell, why not, I thought, it’s not as if I had anything particular to do that afternoon. Just another day, another delivery.


Volume 2 – Club Soda

Part 1

I returned to the flat in the early evening. Renie was out, working at her regular job at the Hair and Beauty Salon on the corner of the next block. An opportunity for me to relax for a hour or so.

In our absence, the room had been tidied up by our PA: cushions and pillows plumped up, clothes cleaned and put away, toys washed and concealed in their familiar hiding-places, ready for action at a moment's notice. Sometimes I wondered how anyone ever managed without Pervasive Automation.

I decided to take another shower - just a quick one, no time for any fun this time - tossing my skirt and jacket into a corner to be tidied away by the automation. After drying off and oiling my skin, I wandered naked back into the main room for a snack and a long cool drink.

The sex with the young couple in the pool had been entertaining. We had all fucked each other a little, although there were really not enough dicks involved for my taste.

Not needing further encouragement, I had stripped off quickly and slid into the cool water. I am not a particularly good swimmer - the shape of my feet does not really help - but the water was only deep enough to come up to my breasts.

In any case, swimming was not the objective: the couple, Bruce and Charlene - who turned out to be brother and sister - reached eagerly for my breasts and my ass. The tag-team rapidly focused on the opening between my legs (him) and the one between my breasts (her), and making me feel hot and juicy in both places. Obviously, I reciprocated, making a single 'O' with thumb and forefinger around the head of Bruce's cock with one hand, and running two fingers


alternatively inside the girl's vagina and over her smooth-shaven pussy lips.

After a certain amount of fooling around, we emerged from the pool using the steps, allowing me to appreciate Charlene's large, well-formed and delightfully tanned breasts and stiff dark nipples which begged me to suck on them.

Dripping with water, we moved to the shade of a cluster of parasols by the edge of the pool, which shaded a clutch of daybeds and sun-loungers. I lost no time in enjoying Charlene's nipples, sucking hard on them alternately. Her teats swelled still further under my ministrations.

"Harder!" she begged, "Suck me hard!"

I redoubled my efforts, biting on her nipples and making her gasp, finally crying out as her orgasm shook her body uncontrollably.

Bruce had been watching avidly as I sucked his sister's tits, making his dick - already hard from the fooling around in the pool, even more erect. Charlene and I sucked him alternately where he stood, causing him to arch backwards and cry out. He seemed ready to explode at any moment but managed to stay in that state for an impressively long time.

The other girl and I ended up top-to-tail, with me on the top - I like it either way around - so that I could bury my head between her legs, giving her clit and vagina the full benefit of the long and slightly pointed tongue my Type is equipped with.

With my fanny in the air, Charlene did what she could with her tongue - definitely a Norm! - as well as using both tongue and finger to make my anus nicely lubricated ready for her brother. A moment later, her brother was inside me, fucking me from behind. The combination of tongue on clit and cock in ass gave me my first orgasm of the afternoon. Gratifyingly, Charlene came shortly afterwards with my tongue deep in her cunt.

We girls rolled over, giggling and gasping; the strength of my orgasm had forced Bruce's cock from my ass. I ended up on my back, so that Bruce could straddle me, slipping his rock-hard member into cunt between my breasts. The grinning girl watched with a huge grin on her face as her


brother finally came in that opening, which I can make, by muscles designed in for the purpose, particularly tight and stimulating.

"Not fair," she exclaimed in a joke-petulant voice after he had come, "She's been fucked in two places, and I'm all wet and horny."

"Let me help you with that," I replied, kneeling to use my tongue and fingers on her pussy once again, which was indeed dripping wet as advertised. I was able to bring her off surprisingly quickly, a gasping and powerful orgasm which made her pussy muscles clench again and again around my fingers.

All of us were warmed up, perspiring freely after the sex in the sun. We took an impromptu cooling dip in the pool, instigated by Charlene attempting to push her brother in. This was successful only to the point that he managed to grab her arm as he was falling and tug her into the water as well. I watched their antics in the pool for a few moments then, caught up in the child-like glee, jumped into the deep end with a tremendous splash.

I clambered out after a minute or two, followed by the other two, and took turns in toweling each other down, both Bruce and Charlene making appreciative noises as they dried my ass. I tossed the towel on the warm decking, where it would no doubt be whisked away by the automation as soon as my back was turned.

Cooled and refreshed, we retired back to the shaded sun-loungers. Bruce threw himself on one of the daybeds before offered me a drink, which I accepted gratefully. Three tall glasses materialized on a small table just to one side, the blur of movement being just enough to attract our attention. I swept up one of the glasses and lay back on the daybed I had commandeered, catching Charlene's eye in a silent toast before sipping from the fruit-juice-and-sparking-wine combination the man had requested for all three of us.

"Say, would you like something to eat?" she asked.

I nodded, suddenly feeling hungry after the exertions.

"So what do you like?" she added.

"Meat, and lots of it" I replied promptly.


"I'm sure you do, honey" she said with a laugh in her voice, "I'm sure you do."

Part 2

I had fallen asleep on a sun-lounger in the shade, feeling just a little sleepy after the energetic sex and the picnic lunch. I eventually woke up in the warmth of the afternoon, curled on my side. Some kindly person - or perhaps just the PA - had covered me with a colorful beach towel.

I rolled onto my back and stretched luxuriously, noticing immediately that I was being watched through eyes slitted against the sun by my host Bruce. He was lying back on a second lounger sharing the same parasol and stroking his cock, which was already delightfully hard.

Looking around, I could see that Charlene was still sleeping on another daybed, shaded by a second canopy a few paces away. She had tossed off her beach towel in her sleep, so that the combination of her soft snores and curled glory of her naked body made her look surprisingly child-like.

I turned back to Bruce, who was still looking at me speculatively, and raised a quizzical eyebrow. He moved to sit next to me like a shot. I really like these little indications of keenness and enthusiasm.

"So you want to have me again?" I asked him, sliding closer to him on the lounger and placing my hand on his upper thigh, just a hairsbreadth from his balls were practically throbbing in anticipation.

"Oh, fuck yes," he replied, running a fingertip over the lips of the cunt between my legs, "I just have to have you right here. It's the only place I haven't enjoyed you yet."

I was more than happy enough to oblige - napping in the sun always makes me especially horny when I wake up. I lay back on the lounger and, once again, he licked me out expertly, running his tongue expertly over my clitoris and - for a Norm - surprisingly powerfully into my vagina.

"I like your taste," he stated while pausing for breath, holding my cunt lips apart with his thumbs in a way which instinctively made me gape so wide, "Perhaps you'd like to stand up for me?"


I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I stood with my legs apart with my knees very slightly bent and with my ass directed provocatively - I hoped! - back at him. For support, I clung to the wooden pole which supported the sun canopy which had shaded me while sleeping.

"That's just perfect," Bruce said, positioning my hips to his liking just so and holding my ass cheeks apart as he slide his dick into my, by now, wet and wide-open opening.

He fucked me with energy and enthusiasm, and I could feel myself getting very wet, my juices leaking out and lubricating my pussy lips; the position I had adopted allowed me to push back hard against him. He took his time and worked me hard, and - judging by the grunts and gasps - he clearly enjoyed the tightness of my cunt.

At first, I supported myself with one hand using the other to finger my clit vigorously to make sure that I was taut against his cock, tightening those strong muscles inside me. But after a while, I found he was banging me so energetically that I really needed to grip the pole with both hands.

I looked around to watch his tanned and muscular body behind me. As I did so, I noticed that we were being watched by Charlene. The girl had obviously been awakened by our energetic coupling. She lay in the shade of the next parasol, fingering herself. I caught her eye and she grinned back at me, clearly enjoying the spectacle of her brother fucking me so hard.

I could sense Bruce was about to come inside me and I was sure I was going to come too. As I got so close, my back arched instinctively. I closed my eyes as my mouth opened in a paroxysm of stimulation and pleasure.

"Yes! Yes!" I cried out, "Now! NOW!"

Bruce and I must have come more-or-less at the same moment. We stood for a few seconds afterwards, both unable to move, the pulsations of my orgasm still throbbing around his cock deep inside me. I heard a powerful exhalation from the direction of Charlene - my eyes were still closed - but there was another voice, one I had not expected.

"Yes!"


It was Jackie Y, peering in our direction from the shade of the house and holding some kind of device half-hidden in one hand. He moved forward quickly, purposefully, apparently engrossed in something I could not see as well as trying to attract our attention.

I straightened, gently disengaging from Bruce, who sat heavily on a lounger, as if his legs suddenly could no longer support him. I like to think that I often have that effect on people who fuck me.

"That's what I've been looking for," he said, looking very much more animated than our last encounter, "That's the pose I wanted to capture."

I was confused for a moment.

"Pose? What for?"

"For a sculpture, of course," he replied earnestly, looking directly at me and waving the device he held in his hand. It was a short cylinder with flat ends, it surface even now swirling rapidly in the purposeful way the automation has when it is busy.

"Come and see," he continued with child-like passion.

I glanced at Bruce and Charlene. Bruce seemed out of it, lying practically comatose on the sun-lounger. Charlene shook her head, looking wryly amused - as if she had seen it all before. She jumped up from her lounger, tossed me a towel - I was perspiring freely and distinctly sticky between the legs - and coolly wandered off in the direction of the pool.

"Sure," I said to Jackie, "Why not?"

I followed him into the house, which was now brightly lit - nearly as bright as the sunshine outside - in contrast to the gloom I encountered earlier. In the open space in the centre of the room, the pervasive automation was at work in a furious blur of dust and movement, fabricating something. As I watched, the dust condensed into a statue of solid rock. Within moments, it was all over, the artwork as still and solid as if it had always been there.

The sculpture was a monumental construction, standing at least two meters high and enhanced by the appearance that it was carved from some dark gray rock highlighted with


flecks and speckles that caught the light from the overhead illumination. Agape, I reached up and ran my hand over its soft curves, feeling my own back and ass and tits artistically caught in the dark stone.

I began to appreciate the skill and vision that Jackie had contributed to the work. It would have been all too easy to render my pose perfectly, a three-D photo in life-like color, every mark and detail, every hair and eyelash - but where would the art be in that?

Under the artist's guidance, the automation had formed an abstraction, capturing the essence of the experience without overloading the senses with unnecessary information. The work gave me a tremendous impression of energy and life, of joy and exhilaration, in stark contrast to the miserable feelings the other works in the room invoked.

I gazed up the expression on my own face, softened and abstracted - but still recognizably me - frozen in the moment of orgasm. It was something you do not very often get to inspect from different angles.

Charlene appeared at the doorway, still quite naked and dripping water from the pool.

"Wow, impressive!" she gasped, then added cheekily, "So it's not just Bruce you can make hard as rock, then."

Part 3

Having wiled away an hour or so thinking about the afternoon's sex, I dressed in the short skirt and sleeveless jacket in matching metallic sheen that was my uniform, picked up my little purse and walked the couple of blocks to my regular job.

For several years now, I have been working a half-shift as an assistant greeter in a Machine Sex Club called the Chromium Shaft. I work alternate afternoon and evening shifts, four days a week - short shifts only, as the Club management likes us to be perky and fresh in our roles. Besides, this arrangement gives me plenty of time to enjoy the company of my circle of friends, as well as undertake the occasional delivery job.

I have found it to be a wonderful way of meeting people as I circulate around the Club. The music is always loud, the


tips are sometimes generous and often I can end up being enjoyed by so many people that I don't need to eat at all.

Even so, the rules are totally clear: the equipment is for the enjoyment of the paying clientele and we're not supposed to use the machines ourselves. But of course I do sometimes get to demonstrate the toys and games to the guests, if they express a desire - so many people like to watch, after all.

As I arrived at the staff door - around the back of the building, of course - I was greeted by a tiny bird-like figure, the boss's right-hand woman who everyone knew as Kitti. She was wearing her trademark tight-fitting black rubber-look cat-suit and stiletto-heeled boots, fitted tightly to emphasize the curves of her pert breasts and hard nipples. Her pubic mound and vagina lips were equally clearly delineated, an effect highlighted by those regions being colored a flaming crimson.

According to the workplace gossip, the suit consisted almost entirely of automation - there was quite possibly no real fabric in the garment at all. It must have cost a fortune. Kitti was reputed to never remove the suit - the PA effortlessly taking care of all aspects of hygiene and waste disposal.

The suit was capable of supporting her in almost any position her body could adopt, as well as opening (and closing) apertures wherever she so desired, and providing phallic extensions and physical supports on demand. Kitti's cat-suit - together with her own voracious sexual appetite - made her a formidable sexual partner, as least by reputation; I had not yet had the opportunity to find out first-hand.

Kitti reached out a hand as I moved to pass her.

"Ah, Tania," she drawled, "You look perky this evening."

Her hand caressed my breast. As she did so, an extension rapidly forming at her wrist, the material of her suit warping itself to shape a beautifully-formed penis, artfully executed with realistic veining and natural colors. The head of the instantly produced dick pressed briefly against the lips of the cunt between my tits, then slipped into my still-wet opening, just once.


I suppressed a gasp. Kitti's eyes closed briefly, a slow blink.

"You've been busy, I see," she said, smiling sardonically, "But, knowing you, I doubt it will reduce your enthusiasm for your job."

"Oh, no," I replied earnestly, "I can't tell you how horny I feel working here makes me."

"Very good," she said nodding, her smile twisting her lips, "Carry on."

I turned to go. As I did so, Kitti slid her hand under the hem of my short skirt to pat me on the ass, the stiff dick at her wrist slipping inside me once again.

"Yes, I thought so," she added, "Such a slut."

"Thank you, Ma’am" I answered, grinning widely, and went to work with a spring in my step. I like to get compliments from the management.

I dumped by purse in my cubbyhole in the staff area, put on my most winning and helpful expression and stepped out to assist the guests.

Some of the Club's machines are extremely retro, all shining metal rods and toothed wheels, driven by bulky and old-fashioned electrical motors. Of course this is all just part of the appeal, for some people. I passed one alcove near the entrance where two bronzed and muscular men with shaved heads were enjoying Old Faithful.

One man was kneeling on the bench in front of the machine, strapped in place with belts around his ankles and behind his knees, the glisteningly oiled red plastic dildo which was attached to Old Faithful's reciprocating arm sliding slowing but inexorably deep into and out of the man's ass. On each powerful thrust, the kneeling man was forced forward. His companion was taking advantage of this movement to fuck him in the mouth, Old Faithful's rhythmic movements forcing his cock deep into other's throat.

Both customers appeared to be enjoying themselves, and each other. The kneeling man was supporting himself on one hand and wanking himself steadily with the other, in time with the machine behind him and thrusts of his lover's cock in his mouth. The boys did not look like they needed


any assistance, so I just watched appreciatively for a moment or two before moving on.

Part 4

As I circulated, nodding politely to the regular members I recognized, or occasionally directing some guest to a particular rendezvous area or sex machine, I thought about my first encounter with the management at the Chromium Shaft Club.

There is always a lot of interest in gaining a position in the Chromium Shaft Club; these days, there is a considerable amount of kudos and public admiration attached to such roles. I had been recommended through a mutual acquaintance a scant few months before, and I was overwhelmed to be attending for an audition. Some people have been on waiting lists of years - even decades - before even getting to the interview stage.

I had arrived early at the staff door, the automation recognizing me immediately and directing me to the little anteroom I would subsequently learn is used only as a holding pen on staff recruitment days. I hung around nervously in the waiting room with a few other hopefuls. I was only in the room for a few minutes but, right then, it seemed like a lifetime. I had heard about "stage fright" before and I certainly had that churning sensation of butterflies in my stomach.

After a while, I noticed that everyone else looked as nervous as I felt. Most of the interviewees had come with a friend - or more than one - presumably for support and encouragement. One sad-looking blond man - probably a Norm - was being comforted by a couple of girls, who were taking turns to suck his limp and flaccid dick in a forlorn effort to produce a hard-on. No doubt the pressure of the audition was already at work, even before it had properly begun.

I sat demurely - for me, anyway - on a straight-backed chair, ankles crossed and knees firmly together. I had worn one of my short skirts - longer than most in my wardrobe, perhaps, but still only coming half-way down my thighs and just covering the region where my Norm skin around my ass meets the soft leather-effect of my Marquis Doll legs.


One of the group was called - a petite and busty blonde - although I did not hear any announcement. She stood up, tugged her skirt straight and adjusted her décolletage, then unhesitatingly stepped towards the inner door - the one I had not entered by - guided by some component of the PA currently invisible to me.

I caught the eye of the poor man who was failing to respond to the increasingly desperate attentions of the girls kneeling in front of him. Realizing that he was probably much more nervous than I was, I smiled widely at him and uncrossed my legs to give him just a flash of the smooth lips between my legs. Then, growing in confidence, I drew back my shoulders and unbuttoned my blouse a little - just enough for him to be able to see my second cunt nestling in my cleavage.

Not taking my eyes from his for a moment, I slowly moistened one fingertip on my tongue, then ran it over the lips between my breasts before slipping my finger back into my mouth. His eyes widened as he watched me, and his dick must have hardened too, judging by the appreciative purring noises his two lady friends started to make.

At that moment, a sign appeared in mid-air, showing just one word - "Tania" - in shiny chrome letters on a black background. It was the management summoning me, of course. No one else noticed the sign, since it was projected into my line of sight - and only mine - by the pervasive automation. Unconsciously mimicking the blonde who had gone before, I stood up, adjusted my clothing and strode towards the inner door.

Madame Maxine, the proprietor of the Club, was sitting in a high-backed chair behind a desk - an extremely traditional setting - in one corner of her office. The desk and chair was lit from above, forming a pool of light; the rest of the room was in darkness, which made it particularly hard to judge just how big the room really was.

Maxine beckoned me over and bade me sit in another chair, set precisely opposite her on the other side of the desk. She asked a few questions, more for the style of the thing, I suspected, rather as a real request for information. I answered clearly and as honestly as I could, feeling just a little intimidated - which was almost certainly the intention.


I suppose in the historical past there would have been plenty of form-filling at this point - details captured in triplicate on paper, perhaps. Nowadays, of course, practically everything about me was publicly known: my family and friends, education records, what kind of person I like to fuck best, my DNA sequence, who I slept with last night. Everything was available for those who cared to enquire, and all this would certainly - I hoped - have been studied before I was even called for an audition.

"Now," she said, "We need to see you in action - how you make new acquaintances and how you entertain them."

The formality of the setting was infectious.

"Yes, Madame," I replied.

"Very good," she said, "Now go and sit over there, and wait for further instruction."

Another dim pool of light had appeared, illuminating a large couch finished in dark brown leather in another corner of the room. I stood up immediately, raising my head high and straightening my back, before I walked catwalk-style over to the seating she had indicated, hoping she would like the view of my behind.

I sat on the couch, once again rather demurely. The dim local lighting made it difficult to see what was going on. As far as I could tell, Madame Maxine was interviewing someone else, but I could not make out who it was or overhear what was being said.

Madame's voice rang out loudly, presumably amplified by the automation.

"The audition begins," she boomed, "Show me how you can entertain one another."

The lights came up around me, simultaneously illuminating two other places in the room. In a second corner, the busty blonde I had seen entering before me lay sprawled on a couch identical to the one I was occupying. In a third corner, the man with two lady friends from the waiting room was sat on yet another couch, still looking rather nervous. There was darkness where Madame's desk was located, although I had no doubt that she was till sitting there watching.


I was determined to put on a good show. I had noted the man's reaction in the anteroom, and reckoned - correctly, as it turned out - he would head for me first. Guessing this, I elected to move towards the other woman, who gave no sign of wanted to bestir herself from her repose.

Without a word being said, we converged on the reclining form of the blonde woman. I unbuttoned my blouse and let it slide to the floor behind me as I walked. Unhesitatingly, I knelt and kissed the other woman full on the lips, tonguing her enthusiastically. She responded by grasping my naked breasts with both hands and squeezing my nipples firmly, which made then erect and very sensitive. Her exploring fingers found the extra opening between my tits. She pulled me up so that my breasts were over her mouth, kissing and licking those lips as energetically as she had been embracing my mouth a moment before.

The man was by now behind me. I had kept my skirt on, but he slid it up over my ass, forming what was basically a belt around my waist. He licked me between the legs - rather inexpertly, I felt, but with great verve – before kneeling on the couch with his dick on a level with my face and the other woman's tits. Taking the unsubtle hint, we girls took it in turns to suck his penis, which rapidly hardened. His stage fright seemed to have evaporated in the heat of the moment.

I made sure I gave the two of them an equal amount of attention, although the blond man seemed to make a point of entering both of us girls in every available hole, if only for a few seconds. He seemed to enjoy taking us from behind, in both places, while standing, practically demanding that the ladies present their various openings to him.

While the man was taking me in the rear, holding onto the belt around my waist and pulling me back roughly, I bent forward to lick and finger the other woman's cunt. The girl responded gratifyingly strongly to my attentions, and I was soon able to slip first two and then three fingers inside her, while stimulating her clit with rapid strokes from the very tip of my tongue. She came quickly, the throbbing of her vaginal muscles around my fingers going on for a flatteringly long time; I really am very good at licking women out.


The man seemed particularly appreciative of the cunt between my breasts. Shortly, I found myself kneeling and pulled him firmly towards me, forcing him deeply inside me. I hoped he would appreciate the tightness of my opening, and the unusual sensation of his balls running between my breasts. I fucked him increasingly hard, all the time looking up him, never taking my eyes from his for a moment. Meanwhile, the other woman grasped his ass cheeks from behind, licking and fingering his anus.

The combined attention was too much for him to last very much longer. He exploded inside me, filling my upper cunt with a huge amount of sticky semen. I got the distinct impression that he had abstained from sex for days. Juddering and groaning, he collapsed on the couch looking extremely satisfied, while I exerted the internal muscles which would draw his cum deeper inside me, finally ending up in my stomach.

"Thank you all," Madame's voice rang out again, "You'll be hearing from us."

I turned to leave, tugging down my skirt and retrieving my blouse from the floor. I slipped it back on and spent a moment re-fastening the buttons. Suddenly another black-and-chrome sign flashed in front of me which said, simply, "Stay."

I realized I had just got a job.

Part 5

The Chromium Shaft Club maintains, for the exclusive use of its members and their guests, a huge assortment of sex toys of all kinds. One well-known variety are known as tentacle machines, and the most popular of these is called the Octopus as it has, as you might expect, eight appendages.

The Octopus is a marvel of modern engineering, with an incredible degree of variability and flexibility. For example, both the color and the texture of the tentacles varies depending on the desires of the user: shiny cold metal for the real machine sex effect, warm black leather for those who like their fetishes retro, mottled green-and-brown snakeskin, or even a combo of ribbed purple and red nubbles for that genuine alien sex effect.


During my perambulations, I noticed a small group of guests standing around, inspecting the dull-grey and inert machine nestling on the low ceiling in the large alcove which is its usual resting place. The party appeared nervous and unsettled. It is a key part of my job to make sure that members and their guests are comfortable, relaxed and, eventually, very satisfied by their experiences.

"Can I help?" I asked brightly, in the perky up-for-anything way that the management likes so much, while watching the group carefully in order to judge their reactions.

"Err," one man began, "We're not sure exactly how this thing works."

"This is the Octopus, isn't it?" one of his female companions interjected.

"Well, it is indeed the Octopus," I confirmed, adding, "One of our more popular attractions. Perhaps I can demonstrate the machine for you?"

Several of the gathering looked at each other, faces becoming alight with intrigued interest and more than a little lust. The man who had spoken earlier, a short man of obviously oriental origins and impressive pectoral muscles who clearly had elected himself spokesperson for the group, answered me.

"You know, I think that would be really great."

I grinned widely in response, then stripped off the sleeveless jacket and short skirt that served to identify staff members, and tossed them casually into a corner. Now quite naked, I stood on the low dais positioned directly beneath the machine which, sensing me beneath it, awoke suddenly with a coordinated and frankly sensuous movement of all eight tentacles. There was a gasp from at least one of my audience, and several of the group stepped back instinctively.

The unfolding tentacles stretched down toward me, their surfaces mottling and darkening as the automation inferred my preferences, based on its internal model of generalized human pleasures and direct observation of my previous experiences. I had demonstrated this machine on several previous occasions, and so it knew that I would soon be


ready for its most intimate attentions. As the tentacles began to run themselves over my body, I kept up a running commentary for the guests, at least as long as I could.

"So, ladies and gentlemen," I began, "Our Octopus is the latest model, perfectly capable of fucking eight people at a time, or concentrating on just one.

At about this point, the tentacles darted down and picked me up. Two each curved around my thighs and and my upper arms, holding me in a near-vertical spread-eagle position; a fifth looped twice around my waist, ending up with the tip of the tentacle nestling between my boobs.

"For the ladies," I continued, "Our tame toy will - if you so require - restrain you and enter you, stretch you, fuck you, everywhere you desire."

The remaining tentacles converged on me, moving snake-like over my skin and glistening moistly with secretions from glands located close to each tip. Moving together, two appendages insinuated their way into my lower cunt and anus, making me gasp suddenly - a reaction echoed from at least one member of the audience. The member between my breasts elongated, thrusting its own wet phallus into the cunt between my breasts.

"As you can see," I continued, "The Octopus's tentacles move together, to stimulate our valued members in the most erotic - and effective - way possible."

The last tentacle filled my mouth, curtailing the last part of my sales pitch - or at least the verbal portion of it. To be honest, I doubt that any of the audience were by now actually listening to the words I had used, but were nevertheless enthralled by the physical spectacle.

Pulsing in synchronization, the two appendages between my legs and the one between my breasts forced their way deeper into me. It was clear to the machine, and to the watching crowd, that I would come very soon. The four appendages filling my various openings came impressively nearly together, forcing large quantities of authentically warm and sticky cum inside my every orifice.

I came, hard, twice in quick succession, crying and screaming even around the gagging appendance in my mouth. There was a corresponding explosion of applause


from the audience, as well as tell-tale gasps and cries; even though my eyes had been closed, I was sure that at least two of them had experienced orgasms at about the same time I had.

The Octopus set me down, still shaking from the orgasm I had just experienced, and with the authentically warm and sticky cum was dripping from my thighs, ass and lower cunt.

I started licking the remaining semen-substitute up, not wanting to waste any, and running my fingers over my breasts and between my legs to retrieve all the drops to convey them to my mouth. I had already swallowed the cum in my mouth while still shaking with passion, and the muscles in the vagina between my breasts had reflexively sucked the fluids from that opening into my stomach.

Now that's what I call a milkshake!


Volume 3 – A Shot in the Dark

Part 1

My performance with the tentacle machine sure had made its mark with the audience in the Chromium Shaft Club. People were standing two-deep in a circle around the dimly-lit platform. Some applauded wildly, some were looking on in thoughtful silence, and many were still openly masturbating, or with tongues, fingers or dicks inserted deep into wide-open mouths, moist cunts or lubricated anuses.

After the Octopus had set me down, several guests started clamoring to experience the machine themselves. These things rarely need policing, in my experience: as it becomes clear that a particular individual might just succeed in their claim, they either back away or jump in with both feet

As I licked up the last of the cum, a tight-bodied blonde pushed her way forward. Encouraged by the group of friends she had clearly come with, the slender girl stepped up onto the raised dais under the machine. The tentacles, sensing her presence and willingness, came to life, sliding smoothly from the hub fixed to the darkened ceiling. As I watched, the tentacles' color changed to a deep blood-red, the machine sensing, as is the way of pervasive automation, one's deep and often unexpressed preferences - preferences the PA knows from a lifetime's observations coupled to a hugely sophisticated model of human behavior.

The woman on the dais stood naked with her hands on her hips, looking up at the appendages snaking their way towards her, her face a picture compounded of lust and excitement, with just a hint of fear. She raised her chin, her nipples hardened visibly and the muscles in the thighs twitching slightly. Just before the first of the tentacles reached her, she glanced at me, a half-grin on her face. I smiled back conspiratorially. I had seen this machine at work many times before, and I suspected I knew exactly how


it would take this newbie. As it turned out, I was exactly right.

The first two tentacles wrapped themselves twice around her upper arms, their tips coming to rest under her breasts. Two more eased their around her thighs, lifting her from the ground and roughly forcing her legs apart, arching her backwards to give the maximum access to her cunt.

The fifth of the machines limbs wrapped itself around her neck, bending her head backwards, and one more slid between her breasts. Yet another tentacle extended itself over her navel to press its narrowed tip - already vibrating visibly - over her clit, and the last, glistening with oily lubrication exuded from glands near the tip, began to rub itself over the lips of her vagina.

She was evidently ready for the machine's fuck. The last tentacle entered her vagina, sliding smoothly in and out, edging its way deeper with each thrust and making her moan aloud in pleasure. The tips of the two appendages holding her arms moved up over her tits, moving side-to-side over each nipple. I could see both teats darken and harden under the machine's ministrations.

The tentacle fucking her was now penetrating her deeply, moving more quickly and urgently, growing in size to entirely fill her, its reciprocating motion forcing her to move to its rythym. The coordinated actions of all of the tentacles increased, a writhing mass of perspiring pink skin, blood red limbs and glistening lubrication.

"Yes," she cried, eyes closed, "Yes, now, harder."

She was clearly close to orgasm, I knew, and as I watched, the suspended woman jerked and squirmed in her restraints, letting out a long low cry, almost a moan, in her pleasure and relief.

The movement of the tentacle between her legs slowed almost to a stop, and the vibrating appendage had moved away from her clit. it must have seemed to her, if only for a split second, that it was all over, that was all she would get. She was, as I had anticipated, quite wrong.

The tentacle which had been fucking her cunt, now lubricated with a mix of her own juices and those from the machine, found its way further between her legs and slipped


itself deep into her anus. She had just enough time to gasp and cry out before the tentacle between her breasts filled her mouth forming a gag, one capable of extending itself down her throat at a moment's notice.

The tips of the two appendages which had been stimulating her nipples widened themselves to nozzles and clamped themselves over her tits. From the movements of her breasts, I could see the funnels were flexing and sucking, alternately clamping down on her nipples and sucking them hard. Her eyes bulged as the intense stimulation - even pain - caught her unawares.

The tentacle which had been at her clit slammed into her vagina, widening noticeably to form a thick stiff dick and drilled her mercilessly. The two appendages in her anus and cunt began to move together, much faster and harder than before, banging away at the blonde woman as she writhed in the restraints.

Her pleasuring took a lot longer the second time but the machine finally brought her to a huge, a massive orgasm which must have made the first one seem insipid by comparison. As she came, the gag tentacle popped out, allowing us all to witness the screams of pleasure and excitement which seemed to go on for ages.

As the machine gently lowered the still-twitching woman to the floor, I could hear her saying, over and over again like a mantra, "Best cum ever."

Part 2

The group around the Octopus seemed to be settling in for the evening, and they evidently no longer required my assistance. The blonde woman's place had been taken by the muscular oriental man I had spoken to earlier, and he and the machine's appendages were now engaged in a wrestling match he must have anticipating losing, judging by the way the tentacles were already massaging his balls and caressing his anus. As I watched, two tentacles converged on his rock-hard and impressively large cock, one wrapping itself around its base and the other folding in on itself before sliding over his helmet.

The automation flashed me a sign indicating that I was required elsewhere. I made my way slowly around the club


until I ended up in the hospitality suite, adjacent to the main reception area, where the VIP members and guests wre usually greeted.

When I arrived, the room was clamorous and nearly full with guests circulating, and several other hosts and hostesses were offering drinks and drugs, or assisting in more intimate ways. Madame Maxine and Kitti were both in evidence, greeting personally a few of the more important - or at least self-important - guests themselves, occasionally directing members of staff, or introducing one member to another, based on their encyclopedic knowledge of everyone's indulgences and peccadilloes.

In this area, dress of some description is generally worn, although elegant nudity - frequently aided with extravagant make-up or body paint - is also much in evidence. Some wore elaborate garments of leather and straps and boots, while other wore clothing which, I'm told, in another era would have been regarded as underwear - a popular retro look these days. Yet others wore modern clingy and intermittently revealing dresses, usually needing built-in automation to manage the flow of the fabrics.

Looking over, I could see Madame Maxine, looking regal in her black silk kimono, rather formally embracing another woman, although the apparent formality was somewhat dispelled by the kiss exchanged and the way Madame patted the naked ass of her friend.

The stranger had a tall slender form, pale skin and very dark - almost black - hair piled up on top of her head in an artful mass of tangles and curls, and looked cool and elegant with narrow hips and muscular thighs, and tastefully large and smoothly-rounded breasts. She was dressed, in the retro style many people seem to prefer these days, in lacy white underwear: stockings and suspenders, with tottering strappy high-heeled shoes and a revealing brassiere - but not, I noticed immediately, any knickers.

Glancing in my direction, the proprietor subtly waved me over, a gesture make unambiguous by a subliminal flash from the PA.

"Tania," Maxine instructed as I approached, "Please guide my good friend Victoria to the Wet Rooms."


"At once, Madame."

Maxine nodded to the other woman, then turned away to smoothly intercept another new arrival. I faced the newcomer.

"How can I be of assistance?" I asked, carefully formal.

"Oh, there's no need to stand on ceremony, Dearie," she said with a noticeably British accent, "Just call me Vicky."

I wondered whereabouts in England she had originally come from, and also wondered how long she had lived over here, since long-distance travel is now so rare.

"OK, Vicky," I replied, warming to the woman immediately, "Just what can I do for you?"

She looked me up and down, realizing for the first time, perhaps, just what kind I was.

"Maxine told me that you had a Hydra here," she said, grinning widely, "Perhaps you'd care to help me with it?"

Part 3

The Encounter Suite at the Chromium Shaft Club - more informally known as the Wet Rooms - was kept very dark, the illumination being managed by the automation balancing from moment to moment the various needs and desires of whoever was in there at the time.

The suite consisted of a maze of passages, alcoves and small rooms, many of which contained a linked series of pools of warm water. A few were very shallow - no more than a few centimeters deep - while others were deep enough for full immersion. The entire maze was dotted with soft padded mattresses and loungers invariably upholstered in black where, in many cases, one could relax - or at least recline - partially in and partially out of the water.

To encourage genuine encounters with strangers, the PA was programmed to only engage when two or more people were fucking. It was not a place for solo machine-assisted masturbation - there are other rooms for that elsewhere in the Club - but somewhere where a few friendly people could thoroughly enjoy each other with just a little help from the technology.


As I guided her into the Wet Room entrance, Vicky explained in graphically explicit detail exactly what her needs were. I nodded eagerly as she spoke - her personal requirements sounded like great fun. At the entrance, she kicked off her shoes and unfastened her bra, but elected to retain the remainder of her clothing.

Unhesitatingly, I unzipped the uniform miniskirt and slipped off the sleeveless jacket that marks me out as an employee, tossing them to one side. I knew that the PA would retrieve, clean, dry and fold these items, and place them in some convenient spot to be picked up later.

Five minutes later, Vicky and I were relaxing on a low couch close to the water's edge. She seemed anxious to explore my breasts and the intimate opening between them. While I leaned back, she licked my nipples alternately, cupping my tits with her hands while sucking harder and harder on each teat. She was gripping me more firmly each time she changed her attentions from one breast to the other, making me gasp with pleasure each time she increased the pressure. I thought I might have an orgasm - a willy-nilly - just from her stimulation of my boobs alone.

Before reaching that point, Vicky moved her fingers to the vagina between my tits, which was by now wet and open, and fingered me vigorously and expertly. I came almost immediately, the muscles in my chest spasming tightly around her fingers.

"How was that, Honey?" she purred, grinning at my reactions to her touch.

"Oh, yes," I breathed in response.

Realizing that I had just enjoyed a Guest before I had pleasured her - something that Madame Maxine might well raise a stern eyebrow at - I moved quickly to reciprocate, following that principle that says sexual partners do to you what they want you to do to them. Not always true, of course, but reasonably reliable in first encounters.

I gently pressed Vicky back against the couch and moved my mouth down to her breasts, quickly sucking hard on her nipples while holding her breasts - really too large to fit into my hands - and squeezing her teats between my fingertips. Under my ministrations, her nipples grew, and darkened, and


then grew some more, ending up as large and as hard as the end of my thumb.

The approach of twinkling lights in the water indicated the arrival of the machinery. A Hydra is a multi-headed water snake, and the heads - this particular one had five - poked themselves above the surface nearby. The Hydra are programmed to imitate the actions of people engaging in sexy fun, with the additional feature that it would apply water jets - steadily or pulsed, from a trickle to a flood - or other lubricating fluids, as it deemed appropriate.

Two of the Hydra heads that had appeared from the pool positioned themselves either side of my head. I caught their movement in the corner of my eye and pulled back slightly, watching in fascination as the machine's snakeheads pulsed jets of water against Vicky's engorged nipples. In a sinuously smooth movement, one of the heads clamped itself over her left teat, swelling slightly to take in her unusually large nipples and a fair proportion of the surrounding aurora. She groaned as the machine increased the suction, swelling - I imagined - her sensitive erections still further.

Following the instructions Vicky had provided earlier, I moved my mount down to lick her clit. A few swift caresses from the tip of my tongue caused it to extend and stiffen incredibly, becoming nearly as big as her nipples. Following the programming, a third head emerged and moved to play its water-jet against her swollen clit.

To leave room for the snakes to stimulate Vicky's swollen protuberances, I squatted down beside the couch, then reached out to ease two fingers inside her vagina.

The two remaining Hydra heads emerged, one immediately playing its water-jet over my nipples and the cunt between my legs. The other oozed an oily secretion against the vaginal lips between my legs before sliding inside me, where it started pulsing in a way I found ecstatically mesmerizing.

The water-jets on Vicky's nipples and clitoris gave Vicky several orgasms in quick succession. I could feel her powerful muscular spasms around my fingers, keenly - if vicariously - enjoying the other woman's pleasures while building up to an explosive climax of my own.


I really will have to help out in the Wet Rooms more often!

Part 4

After the fun in the Wet Rooms, I slipped back into my uniform, ready to resume the meet-and-greet role expected of me by the Club management. I was heading back towards the main reception area when I was intercepted by a well-built man wearing a towel slung casually over one shoulder. I thought I recognized him from the crowd around the tentacle machine.

"Hi, err, Tania," he said, squinting at the name-tag on my jacket, "My friends and I were watching you with the Octopus earlier, and now we have a problem."

"Uh-huh, sure," I said, smiling brightly, already beginning to suspect exactly what was to come.

He put a hand on my arm and directed me towards a doorway nearby, which stood partially open, revealing a darkened room beyond.

"A really big problem, and we really, really need your help," he continued, grinning lustfully at me.

I stepped inside. The man followed me closely and shut the door behind us. He took my hand casually and I turned to face him in the near-darkness.

"So what is this big problem?" I asked eagerly, "and how can I help?"

"Our problem," he replied laconically, directing my hand downwards, "Is that these erections just won't go away."

As my eyes rapidly adjusted to the dimness of the room, I could see five other men lounging on the seating. All were quite naked, and all had rigid erections which stiffened further as I appreciatively looked over the goods on display.

"Aw," I thought, "How sweet. An old-fashioned gang-bang!"

The man who had intercepted me was standing right behind me, so close that I could feel his dick pressing into the small of my back. I turned and bent, running my hand teasingly over the head of his cock before briefly cupping his balls and planting a pouting kiss on his helmet. His penis


jerked so hard that I thought for a split-second that he was going to come on my face there and then, but fortunately - for me - he managed to get himself under control.

I stepped away, towards the center of the room.

"Well, boys," I asked, barely able to keep a smirk off my face, "Why don't you come over here and let me help you out?"

The men - I would later confirm that they were all Norms - needed no further encouragement. They stood as one and moved to stand in a circle around me. I knelt to a convenient height to get my mouth to work on the exciting array of manhoods. It is always my pleasure to taste every cock I am presented with, a sample to assess the level of control, the size and the hardness of each. I moved around the circle, licking and sucking each dick for a minute or so, while wanking the adjacent ones, in each case imagining what this particular one would feel like in each of my openings.

All in all, they were a splendid collection of phalluses as I had ever come across - quite literally, in most cases! I found it necessary to test a couple of the dicks on display a second time, to the very evident pleasure of the recipients. Finally I made my decision - I knew exactly which dick I wanted in each hole and a fairly good idea of exactly how to extract the maximum number of orgasms - for me, as well as them - from the party.

Selecting one of the men, I pushed him down on the low couch and sucked him once again, being sure to leave his dick dripping wet with my own saliva. I mounted him reverse cowboy style, first in my cunt - already wet with eager anticipation - and then, after a few vigorous thrusts, I eased his dick into my ass.

The man who had invited me in leant over me, holding my breasts and squeezing my nipples before licking the vagina lips between them. Another started licking my clit and the opening between my legs, making the juices - a mixture of his saliva and my own intimate fluids - flow to further lubricate the steady piston-like movements of the dick in my ass. Being licked out in both cunts simultaneously I always find so very exciting and it was only a few moments before I experienced the first of several powerful orgasms.


I would have cried out, but my mouth was filled by another cock I had already guided there. Sensing me come, the two who had been licking me moved to fill me in both cunts. Now I had both hands busy too, keeping the other two boys hard and excited, ready to fuck me after their friends had shot their loads. I was careful to pace my strokes, not wishing them to cum in my hands, but to hold them off until I was able to take them inside me.

The pounding in my chest and throat did not last long, and volleys of warm semen soon filled me. I swallowed reflexively, the cum in both openings draining into my stomach. The two spent dicks withdrew gracefully, and I guided the cocks in each hand to take their places.

The cock in my mouth came almost immediately - just in time! - and I sucked hard to drain him as much as possible.

The penis that now slipped between my breasts was larger than the previous one - almost too big for that opening, but now with extra lubrication the tension was so stimulating. I grasped the man's thighs and encouraged him to fuck me harder, until both he and the man in my lower cunt blew their loads into me, coming together because of my orgasmic contractions.

Then, and only them, did I tense the muscles in my ass, squeezing the dick in my anus and bouncing up and down with all the energy and flexibility I could muster. I could feel him cum in my ass, hard, kicking off the last of my own orgasms, writhing and squealing under the press of bodies still holding me down.

I lay still with my eyes closed for a few moments, basking in the interior glow caused by powerful sex. The weight of bodies moved off me, and I opened my eyes and rolled off the couch, eliciting a gasp from the man whose softening cock was still in my ass.

As I looked around at my companions, the PA reminded me with a subliminal flash that it was approaching the end of my shift. I moved to collect my uniform - no point in putting it back on - and stepped towards the door.

"Well, boys," I said, turning to look back at the relaxing men and detumescent cocks, "I hope you've all enjoyed yourselves, 'cos it's time for me to go."


An array of satisfied grins was answer enough.

I made my way back to the staff room to change into my own clothes. I took a five-second dry shower - not as satisfying as the longer wet ones I prefer - before dressing. This I achieved by simply standing in the middle of the room, naked and with my arms held high, and closed my eyes. There was a faint whirr of movement and a damp fluttering sensation over my skin from the automation, which ceased after a few seconds leaving me clean and dry. All ready to go.

I stopped me as I was leaving the club to make my way home by the gang bang man, who thanked me for my enthusiasm with his friends earlier.

"You know, you really are a great tonic to a jaded man," he concluded laconically, "A real shot in the arm."

Part 5

A peculiar thing happened to me on the way home that evening. I had left the Club after my shift via the staff door as usual. It was already dark although the low-level street lighting - managed by the PA to balance visibility with energy use - made it easy enough to see where I was going.

I had just reached the end of the alleyway from the back door when a man stepped out of the shadows. He was tall and broad-shouldered and rather unusually dressed in some formal dark suit over some kind of stiff white shirt buttoned to the neck. I could see very little of his face under the matching wide-brimmed dark hat.

"Hello," he called.

I stopped and turned to face the stranger. I admit it is not entirely unknown for me to be accosted by strangers in dark alleys, and sometime it could be real fun - I remembered an explosive encounter with a tiny Asian woman in this very alleyway a month or two back - but I had a bad feeling about this man. I was not sure why, but somehow it seemed as if he was internally torn: wanting me desperately in a sexual way while something else - guilt, perhaps? - was holding him back.

I deployed the body language and visual cues that would have politely informed almost anyone that I was not


interested in an encounter with a stranger this evening. To my surprise, he entirely ignored my signals and walked right up to me, putting his hand on my arm and looked as if he was preparing to make a grab for my tits.

"I want you to come with me," he said brusquely.

He was creepy, really strange. It was almost as if he imagined there was nothing which would prevent him using force, overpowering me and dragging me away against my will.

"No!" I said, a little louder than I had probably intended, just to make my feelings entirely clear.

Before he had moved more than a centimeter, the automation swung into action, a flurry of activity really only visible as a grey blur in the air. A second later, the PA left him lying, breathless but unharmed, on the paving ten meters away. As I walked on, it occurred to me that he looked surprised, shocked, perhaps even horrified at what had just happened. It was almost as if he had never seen the policing action of the pervasive automation at work before.


Volume 4 – Teddy Bear’s Picnic

Part 1

The following day's plan was a long-awaited picnic in the country park with a group of friends. I had awoken early, as I often do, in rather child-like excited anticipation. I lay still on the futon, not wishing to disturb my dear friend Renie who was still snoring gently beside me.

Steve was away, attending to one or another of the mysterious pieces of business that keeps him busy and surprisingly financially solvent, so it was just the two of us keeping each other warm. I am always horny in the mornings - well, to be honest, I am horny almost all the time - and I felt sure that a little patience would allow me to fuck with Renie when she woke up.

I lay in the darkness, which soon softened slightly by illumination coming from the far wall, the lighting forming themselves into the shape of a clock by the automation, sensing my need automatically in the subliminal way the PA usually works.

I may have fallen back to sleep again, or at least entered one of those mysterious physiological states part-way between sleeping and waking. In any case, it seemed only seconds later when Renie started to stir next to me, writhing in that luxurious way common to those who have just woken from a deep sleep.

It is at times like this that a straightforward and rewarding fuck between friends is exactly what is required, and Renie's dick-girl essence always seems up for the challenge. Renie held me close, both of us lying on our sides, spooning. I could feel her morning hard-on pressing right up against my ass.

I do not know what I had been dreaming about - I do not remember anything specific on that occasion - but it seemed that I was was already wet and ready for her dick. Again, I


don't know what need or fantasy had been going through Renie's head, but she too was hard and demanding, her cock ready and willing to satisfy my own urgent requirement.

Renie moved gently, shifting herself so that her rampant penis slid between my legs and started rubbing over the outer lips of my vagina. I tensed, positioning myself so that at a single movement I could redrect her thrusts so as to accommodate her hark penis, but loath to move too soon when I was enjoying the teasing sensations so much. Finally, I could take no more.

"Fuck me, Darlin'," I breathed, flexing so that Renie's next movement caused her dick to slip into me. I gasped as her beautifully well-formed, although not particularly large cock separated the lip of my vagina. Obligingly, she started the luxuriously slow and deep movements that I knew she could keep up for hours. I moved against her, thrusting myself backwards to accommodate every part of her dick inside me.

Wanting more, I rolled over and drew up my knees, pressing my head right down onto the mattress. With my ass right up in the air, I wondered which hole Renie would take me in this morning.

Playfully, Renie ran the head of her cock over both openings before pressing herself deeply into my cunt. I gasped, and again, while Renie's increasingly frantic movements brought me to the brink of orgasm. I could feel her tension, and her movements started to become just a little uncoordinated. I came then, the muscular pulses in my vagina bringing Renie off too.

We lay gasping in each others arms for a minute or five then, feeling energized and ready to face the world,

We both threw aside the duvet and bounced giggling from the futon, making for the bathroom. After peeing, we jumped in the shower together, soaping each other down in a lather of soapy suds under the running water. We stood close to each other, breasts and nipples rubbing against the others skin and our legs spread to facilitate access for finger play.

It was not long before we adopted a position we both like a lot. With one of my hands, I rubbed Renie's dick, now rapidly hardening again and lubricated by the water and


soapy lotions that we both use. The other I positioned from behind, sliding between her ass cheeks and thighs, finally slipping two fingers inside her cunt. With the tips of my long nails, I was able to massage that oh-so-sensitive spot on the roof of her opening just inside the place where her vagina lips merge smoothly with the base of her cock.

Renie reached in front of me, with one hand directing the lotion from my breasts onto her fingers before slipping their tips into the opening between my tits. Her other arm reached behind me, between my legs, caressing my anus for a moment before slipping her thumb in my lower vagina and stroking my clit with two long-taloned fingers.

We stood together for a long moment, kissing and masturbating each other while the water ran over our bodies. It is always special when I orgasm when fingered in both vaginas simultaneously, and I am certain that Renie loves it when cock and cunt are stimulated. We know each other so well by now that it was only a matter of minutes before we brought each other off, Renie's cum decorating the shower tiles while my breasts danced in time to my gasping cries.

Part 2

The meeting point for the picnic party was the plaza just outside our local Metro station. Renie and I were almost the last to arrive, made just a minute or two late by our extended shower. Our bus was already waiting, but fortunately everyone else was still standing on the sidewalk when we rounded the corner of the street.

Apart from Renie and myself, there were eight people boarding. Only one I recognized immediately: Little Lil waved gaily when she saw us approach, the bunches of her blonde hair tied with pink ribbons waggling as she nodded her head. Lil is a Lolita - a Kind not seen so very frequently and one still likely to cause a stir. She is almost prepubescent in appearance, with a slender body and the merest bumps for breasts, although of course she is as old and sexually experienced as anyone these days. Still, she likes to play on her child-like appearance, and the pink ribbons and gingham summer dress are all part of the game.


Steve, Renie's boyfriend, sauntered up, approaching from the other direction as we arrived.

"Did you have a successful evening?" Renie greeted him enthusiastically.

"Business-wise, sure did," he replied, looking hungrily at her breasts bouncing happily in her tight cheerleaders top, "But it left a few other things to be desired."

As they embraced, kissing passionately, I watched as Steve slipped a hand under her short skirt. I could see the pleats bulge as her cock hardened under his caresses.

"Come on, you too," I said to get their attention, "Don't want to be left behind."

We scrambled up the steps, the door closing automatically behind us. Externally, our vehicle was deliberately made to resemble a Greyhound bus from the Internal Combustion era of long ago - at least judging by pictures I have seen - although inside it was entirely modern. The vehicle moved silently and drove itself, moving off smoothly along the quiet roads towards our picnic destination.

Inside, rather than rather cramped seating for fifty or more people, which might have been expected in ancient times, this bus was much more spacious and luxurious. Soft carpeting, banquette seating and mountains of cushions provided comfortable and relaxing surroundings for up to a dozen people, while the mirrored windows kept out the glare of the sun and the gaze of bystanders - as if anyone really worried about that kind of thing these days, of course.

As the bus set off, Renie and Steve lost no time in re-establishing their acquaintances with each other's bodies, immediately annexing a low couch in one corner of the coach. Renie scooped her ample breasts from the constraints of her halter top and pressed the nipples to Steve's mouth one after the other, which he sucked and nuzzled greedily. It seemed that they had missed each other desperately, and lost no time in stripping off their clothes and sucking each other's dicks to rampant hardness. Their evident sexual needs awakened my own appetites - never very far away anyway - and I turned my attentions to getting to know the others in the party.


Sitting opposite me was Alice, a curvaceous black woman with full lips and her hair a mass of tiny plaits each ending in a colored wooden bead. She was dressed in a brightly-colored and patterned robe, a Kanga, no doubt modeled on the tribal clothing that at least some of her ancestors would have worn in the heat of the African plains. She had most impressive tits - the nipples protruding visibly though the thin fabric - and an even more impressive fanny. She looked directly at me as Lil spoke, eyes flashing, clearly inviting me to enjoy her voluptuous form very soon.

Alice was flanked by two large men, both of whom clearly wanted to experience those curves for themselves. Charlie and Bear were both muscular and heavily built, with tanned skin and tufts of chest hair emerging from their open-necked Hawaiian shirts. Bear had a mane of curly dark hair cascading over his shoulders, while Charlie was entirely bald - whether shaven or genetically modified I could not tell.

Alice shifted in her seat, leaning towards Bear and pressing her tits against his arm, while sliding her fanny onto Charlie's lap. He reacted eagerly by running his hands over the curves of her ass, while Bear responded to her invitation by kissing her lips and running his hands over her breasts. After a few moments, her diaphanous robe loosened itself and slipped unnoticed to the floor, allowing me - and the other observers - to appreciate just how sexy her body really was.

Next to Lil sat two identical men. The twins, Theodore and Edward, were apparently known to everyone as Teddy and Eddie. She and the boys had also been watching Alice entertain the two men opposite, but now turned their attention to me. I was particularly taken with the twins, each dressed in tight blue jeans that accentuated their narrow waists and flat stomachs - not to mention the taut curves of their asses and bulging packages - and sleeveless muscle shirts in white (Eddie) and tan (Teddy). I could see that Little Lil was also very interested in the boys, and it was not surprising that she and I ended up tag-teaming.

It was not long before Lil and I were kneeling and naked, and had the twins standing before us, us girls racing to unfasten the jeans. Lil finished ahead by a few seconds by


the time I yanked down Teddy's pants; then I had quite a surprise - both Teddy and Eddie had two cocks, each!

I gasped, then glanced at Lil, who flashed back a wicked grin with a dick in each hand before returning to the task of alternately sucking the two penises. Following suit, I set to work on Teddy, wanking both cocks in synchronization before deep-throating each in turn. Lil joined me, sucking one of Teddy's cocks while I worked on the other. I could see Eddie standing very close, masturbating with both hands, alternately pulling back on first his left and then his right foreskin, both cocks now pointing rigidly skywards.

I had not come across this Kind before. Taking a moment to catch our breath before moving to give Eddie a dual blowjob, Lil whispered that they were Josés - a reference, I would later discover from the automation, to some old joke I did not really get.

At the time, all I knew was that I wanted as many of these dicks inside me, very soon. The boys seemed to sense this, too. Guided by their urgent pressure, I lay on my back on the low couch, spreading and bending my legs to give maximum access to all my openings.

Lil is such a friend. It was she who guided Eddie's two cocks into the openings between my legs, having fingered my cunt and liberally licked my anus as the head of the second penis pressed against my sphincter. Meanwhile I guided one of Teddy's dicks into the cunt between my breasts - I was almost sure he had not noticed that sexual opening until a second before he had plunged into me - and I slid the other back into my mouth.

The boys pounded away, instinctively moving in near-synchronization. I could see Lil fingering herself furiously as she watched me being fucked by four dicks. Teddy came first in my chest cunt, wild and hard, and his jerking reaction pulled his other cock from my mouth.

Lil seized the opportunity to take the last of the dicks herself, grabbing the available member with one hand and sitting on my breasts before guiding the hard cock inside herself. She bounced back and forth energetically, much to Teddy's amusement and mounting excitement, and I sensed he would come again in a moment - no, right now!


As Teddy's other penis, now softening, ran up and down between my tits, Eddie came simultaneously in my cunt and ass. I could feel the spurts of his juices inside me, filling me with his cum and making me cry aloud. My screams mingled with Lil's girlish exclamations, and I could sense her orgasmic contractions in her belly against my face.

Definitely a ride to remember!

Part 3

Judging by the grunts and moans from elsewhere in the bus, I was not the only one to have thoroughly enjoyed the trip. Lil had rolled off my face and lay panting on the couch next to me, allowing me to still up and look around. Renie was siting up and massaging her tits with some sticky fluid - probably a mixture of his cum and hers - with Steve looking on.

Alice was wanking off Charlie, who came explosively over her breasts as I watched. Bear must have come just a few moments earlier, and he was rubbing the head of his still-hard dick over one dark, hard and shiny nipple. She looked up appreciatively at the men who had just come over her, then turned to catch my gaze again, grinning at me before bringing first one nipple and then the other to her own mouth.

I'm sure I would have responded immediately to the repeated invitation if we had not been interrupted by a soft chime followed by a flashed message from the automation informing us all that we have arrived. I bounced up, brimming with energy and excitement, paused for just a moment to slip my clothes back on, and scampered to the door which was now opening automatically.

I descended the steps and stood in the sunshine, enjoying the light breeze and looking around me. It was an idyllic country spot, with mature trees and dense growths of bushes in two directions, a rocky hillside dominated the third quarter and the roadway we had just traversed was behind me.

I was soon joined by my companions, most of whom had restored their clothing - although Alice was now wearing her wrap around her waist leaving her delightfully full breasts entirely uncovered. Renie too had discarded her halter top. She moved to stand close to Alice to discuss the direction we


should take. I could see the juxtaposition of Alice's full dark breasts and Renie's - a little smaller and only a shade or two lighter in color - was attracting considerable attention, not least from Renie's boyfriend.

Their impromptu conference completed, Renie and Alice directed the group, a few carrying light packs, along a narrow path paved with heavy irregular stones. The trail skirted a low-lying wooded area which looked to me as if it might flood in winter. The other side of the path was bordered by a lush meadow bounded a series of tall crags. We rounded a bend and caught our first view of the lake itself: a placid expanse of cool blue water bounded by a sculpted curving shore marked with headlands and bays, offering a number of picnic spots both sheltered and secluded dotted along the shoreline. Individual plots of grass and sandy beaches were separated by thick plantings of trees and shrubs which would, I began to realise, allow these little groves almost complete privacy.

Low voices or occasional giggling laughter indicated that some of these spots were already taken by couples or larger groups.

"This one," Renie said, indicating a fork in the path.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Oh, yes," she replied smiling, "I booked it earlier."

Our picnic spot was a classic: an oval of neatly clipped grass - the gardening performed, as everything else, by the PA - bordered by a narrow sandy beach leading down the waters of the lake. The sand itself was delimited by several large and artfully-placed boulders, which made the beach very private as well as providing pleasant spots to dry off in the sunshine after swimming. The other three sides of the grove were hedged with dense undergrowth, with a few mature trees to provide some shade for eating, and sleeping, and other activities too!

Even in this remote location, the pervasive automation was still present - that's what *pervasive* means, after all - and could be relied upon to provide basic needs such as food and water for everyone. Nevertheless, some members of the party had brought small packs with them from the bus filled with luxuries, including some bottles of wine and some real


fruit - oranges and bananas - which must have cost a fortune. Steve had included a bottle of whiskey - a favorite of Renie's, and mine too - and I suspected that Renie was going to be having a good time today.

Some of the others had obviously expended some credit on VAPAware, and items started to appear in a way which would have seemed miraculous to a person from a previous age: a couple of large sunshades, a selection of beach towels in bright colors and an array of white plastic sun-loungers. The arrival of the latter was particularly spectacular, the material arriving piecemeal over an interval of several seconds, so that the recliners appeared to assemble themselves out of thin air.

Practically everybody ignored the arrival of the picnic provisions and equipment, preferring to gaze at the delightful surroundings for a few moments before, almost in synchronization, dropping bags and clothes where they stood. Most people seemed quite hot and, in many cases, rather sticky after the walk from the bus - or perhaps more honestly, from the heated activity while on the bus.

There was a mad dash for the water, led by Lil in the child-like way typical of her Kind. She rushed down the beach squealing as she encountered the cold water, then plunged onwards into deeper water with a massive splash. She was soon joined by everyone else, swimming - or at least splashing about - in the refreshingly cool water. I do not swim well - the shape of my feet to not lend themselves to aquatic propulsion - but I had a grand old time, wading about in the shallows and flicking handfuls of water at anyone who came within range.

After a while, we emerged in ones and twos, dripping onto the warm sand and, in Lil's case, shivering slightly. Renie came over or motherly, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around the Lolita's slight shoulders before firmly rubbing her dry.

I lay back on a recliner, enjoying the warmth of the sun on my body. Alice sat down on the lounger next to mine, using a towel to dry her breasts, the rough material snagging on her nipples and making them stand up taut. Clearly enjoying the sensation of her teats being touched, she dropped the towel completely and began massaging her own


breasts, scooping them up with both hands and squeezing the nipples firmly between finger and thumb.

"Can I help you with that?" I asked, catching her eye.

She flashed me a look that was answer enough, an opportunity to fulfill the promise her eyes had made on the bus earlier. I joined her on her sun-lounger, moving to support her warm mounds in my hands and sucking hard on her already firm nipples.

After a few moments, the teat I was sucking oozed warm milk into my mouth. The taste was indescribable - ambrosia indeed! I realized that she was not a Norm - as I had first assumed - but a Kind known as Mammas, capable of frequent orgasms from having their tits sucked, and able to offer a sweet-tasting reward to their partners.

The evident tensions I could feel in Alice's body and the urgent moans I could hear made it clear she was enjoying the attentions. I sucked her hard for at least ten minutes, my efforts rewarded by further bursts of milk, culminating in a final and much more generous spurt into my mouth as she came.

"Now it's your turn, Honey," she breathed, rolling me over on the recliner and starting to lick the cunt between my legs expertly. I moaned appreciatively, although I also snuck a look around at what the others were up to.

The twins were engaged in a round of semi-mutual masturbation while watching Alice and I at play. Each of them was manipulating one of their own cocks with one hand, and one of the other man's cocks with the other hand. I made a point of flexing my tits in their direction, by way of an invitation, but they seemed happy enough to wank themselves and each other while watching the show on the lounger.

Lil was lying on a recliner and enjoying the attentions of Charlie and Bear, sucking and jerking off the two of them alternately while Renie knelt between her legs adeptly licking her cunt while wanking her own cock. Nearby, Steve stood masturbating in the self-controlled, measured way that he has. I knew he would be taking Renie from behind very soon - whether in cunt or anus I could not be sure - but just at the point where both he and Renie would come together.


I returned my attention to Alice, who was now fucking me harder with her fingers making me moan with pleasure, pausing occasionally to lick my clit and add another finger to those she was forcing inside me. Soon the intense stimulation brought me to a juddering orgasm which left me twitching for a whole minute.

I was fucked out, at least for the time being, and I got the impression that the others had reached a point of temporary satiation.

Renie stood and moved to the packs we had brought with us.

"Time for lunch," she announced.

Part 4

I woke and stretched luxuriously. I had fallen asleep on one of the recliners, under the shade of the trees edging the glade. After the highly enjoyable food and wine, and the even more enjoyable sex, I had collapsed in a state of ecstatic exhaustion.

Around me, my friends and companions were also dozing in the shade: some were lying together in a tangle of limbs and detumescent penises, while others lay alone, sheltered by the parasols we had commanded or protected by a colorful beach towel that a thoughtful friend had draped over them.

It was delightfully quiet and peaceful. I lay as still as I could, enjoying the gentle lapping of the lake water against the beach and the breeze in the trees. Unexpectedly I heard noises emanating from the foliage behind me - low voices accompanied by the unmistakable soundtrack of live sex.

On a whim, I sprang up from the daybed, feeling very much rested and just a little horny after my nap, and made my way quietly through the bushes which surrounded our miniature glade. A Norm, especially one who was completely naked, might have been badly scratched by thorns and briars, but the tough skin on my arms and legs protected me from any harm.

I stopped before I reached the next clearing, squatting down just behind a low hedge that demarcated the boundary


of another of the little glades so carefully maintained by the automation.

The noises were coming from a threesome not far from my observation post. A slender pale-skinned figure was lying on her side, quite naked, on a portable sun-lounger with her back towards me. An athletic-looking man with long dark hair and and delightfully tanned - and very taut - buttocks was holding one of her legs in the air, and was fucking her enthusiastically in the ass. I had a splendid view of her gaping backdoor as the tanned beach-boy withdrew his stiff member for a moment. He ran his helmet up and down over her ass cheeks teasingly before plunging back deep inside her.

A second man, black-skinned and white-haired, was enjoying the moist delights of her mouth. Her face was turned away, but it was apparent that she was completely bald - no hair on her head anywhere. She was alternately sucking energetically on the second man's dick and wanking him hard with one hand, and her other hand was gripping the man's balls, firming his erection, no doubt, as well as making sure he did not get away.

The two men - both Norms as far as I could tell - changed places, the black man swapping her mouth for her anus. She rolled onto her back as they moved around her. Her torso was particularly slender and muscular, with no visible breasts, although she did have delectably large nipples with a dark aurora around them. She also had an exceptionally hard and tight ass - even more so than me. No wonder the boys were going at her with such abandon.

The black man gripped her by her ankles and lifted both legs high into the air, separating them widely. As he stood admiring the view, I realized that the lady had no equipment between her legs - no cock, no cunt, just smooth unbroken skin. She was an Andie - short for Androgynous - one without either defining male or female characteristics, and as equidistant between the two traditional genders as it was possible to be.

As I watched, she gaped her anus again, the black man's dick visibly stiffening still further as she did so. He leaned forward, sliding into her opening and smoothly pressing down until his entire length - a very decent one, in my


informed opinion - was embedded deeply inside her. She looked as if she would have cried out if her mouth had not been so thoroughly filled with tanned cock.

The two men swapped places again. As they moved, he turned her head in my direction, looking up and reaching urgently for the black man's penis, and jerking it hard several times before guiding it to her mouth.

Now that she faced me, I realized that I recognized the Andie. Her name, I remembered immediately, was Kim and we had been close friends for a long period several decades ago. She had moved away, for reasons I now forget, and I had missed her humor and wisdom for months afterwards. We had often double-dated, Kim joking that this arrangement provided, on average, the right number of cunts to entertain our companions.

From a very intimate inspection, I knew that Kim had nothing between her legs except a tiny slitted stub - almost like another nipple. I am always curious about such matters, and she had explained something about her design. She was genetically hairless - not even eyebrows - and she had glands capable of lubricating her rear opening much like the cunt juices I had in such abundance. All of the usual sexual nerve endings and pleasure centers were wired to her mouth and, more particularly, her anus, and she was capable of frequent and intense orgasms from anal sex.

The virtuoso performance was being watched closely by two women, lying side-by-side on an over-size sun-lounger shaded by a canopy. They were fingering themselves and each other’s clits lavisciously, alternatively squeezing their own breasts and nipples, and sucking on the other’s tits, at all times taking care that both could watch the antics on the sun-lounger in front of them.

My own hand had already drifted downwards, taking advantage of the the access my squatting position afforded and the sudden wetness of my own vagina. As my fingertips touched my own clit, I bit my bottom lip stifling a moan of pleasure.

As my attention returned to Kim and her friends, I saw that she had stopped sucking the black dick and appeared to be saying something pleadingly. The men's faces broke into wide grins and they nodded together.


The tanned man lifted Kim up, helping her to her feet, and then rapidly positioning himself on the lounger. Kim turned around and the dark-haired man guided her on top of him, smoothly sliding his cock back into her ass. Impressively, he was able to resume his energetic pounding immediately, forcing her body upwards by the thrusting motions of his hips.

The other man stood watching for a few moments, moving his hand up and down over his dick, no doubt still lubricated with Kim's saliva. Taking advantage of a pause in his friend's pumping action, he effortlessly slid his member into Kim's ass, synchronizing his thrusts with those of the other man.

Kim started moaning, crying out loudly now that her mouth was unfilled. Her expressions of pleasure got louder, and her convulsions made it obvious that she was having an orgasm. The two men came too, almost simultaneously, and I could plainly see the cum from both Kim's gentlemen admirers mingling with her own juices.

The two men withdrew, politely thanking her for the attentions, although her body language made it plain that Kim was not done for just yet, not by a long way. The two women obviously recognized this, as they both stood and moved over to the sunlounger, one of them briskly motioning the men folk to take a seat.

One of the girls, dark-skinned and equipped with a fabulously large pair of tits, lifted Kim's head and shoulders and cradled her in her bosom. Kim could not even gasp her appreciation before a taut nipple was thrust into her mouth, although she was able to reach up and grasp the other erect nipple between finger and thumb.

The other woman, a curvaceous redhead with a muscular look about the shoulders - as if she did a lot of long-distance swimming - knelt between Kim's legs. The redhead must have realized that Kim was both achingly wide-open and incredibly wet, and lost no time in slipping all four fingers into the Andie's asshole. Soon, she was fisting Kim, fitting all of her hand up to the wrist within the Andie's capacious opening, and managing to keep up a fast reciprocating movement that had Kim in paroxysms of pleasure.


I was momentarily distracted by a movement in the foliage on the opposite side of the clearing. There was another face in the bushes on the other side, a man's face, peering out and obviously engrossed in the performance. The movement of the leaves suggested that he was masturbating - just as I was, of course - while watching the energetic group in the glade.

Just at that moment, Kim's screams got louder and more frantic. I turned to watch appreciatively her gasping orgasm. I could see her buck and thrash against the large black breasts that cradled her head. Even from this distance, I could tell that the sphincter muscles in her ass were spasming violently around the other woman's wrist.

I came too, a willy-nilly, a few seconds later, rubbing my clit with the juices from my own vagina, biting harder on my lip to ensure I stayed silent. As the little orgasm rippled though me, I sagged to the ground, unable to support the squatting position any longer.

By the time I was in any kind of state to pay attention, the other individual in the bushes had disappeared. It struck me that there was something odd about the face, something unusual. Finally, it occurred to me just what it was: the man looked old.

Part 5

I made my way quietly back through the bushes to return to my friends, who were now waking up, looking around speculatively at the rest of the group.

It occurred to me that I had fucked everyone in the party except Charlie and Bear - oh, and Steve, of course, although I had enjoyed the latter's attentions on many previous occasions. The three men clearly also realized this fact, and they clustered around me as I lay back on my sun-lounger.

Charlie and Bear in particular seemed to want to explore the unusual sexual opening in my chest, between my breasts, and I would shortly have the pleasure of trying three cocks, one after another, in that opening.

Steve was first in line, slipping his dick easily inside me, but it was much too small to be satisfying, and I quickly repositioned his cock in my mouth.


Bear was in second place, his huge member already hard and eager, but was much too large, even with the extra lubrication of someone's cum from someone else's vagina. I moved him to the cunt between my legs where he would be able to experience those preternaturally powerful muscles my Kind have.

The last dick - Charlie's - was beautifully shaped. He pressed it against my opening, slipping inside almost immediately with a groan from him and a gasp from me. It was just right.


Volume 5 – Bend and Stretch

Part 1

I took my usual scheduled shift at the Club the following day. This was the early shift, from three-pm to seven in the evening and surprisingly popular - perfect for those who like sex in the afternoon.

I had only been there a few minutes when a message came for me: Lady Jane had requested my immediate assistance in the Gym. Lady Jane is a long-term client of the Chromium Shaft - staff gossip says she has been a Club member for at least thirty years.

The same gossip says that Lady Jane had been a dancer or gymnast at some point in the past - indeed, she may still be, for all I know. I had often thought of dance, especially ballet, as sexual energy diverted, twisted into art. Lady Jane had acquired some particular requirements, certain urgent needs which emerged infrequently, but seemed to be the final release for that ensnared sexual tension.

For some reason I was entirely unsure about, she had taken a liking to me just after I first took up this job, and had now summoned me to provide her personal services, as I have done many times in the past. I knew that she did not like to be kept waiting, so I hurried down the corridor and knocked politely on the door.

"Come."

The Gym was a medium-sized room, fitted out as an old-fashioned dance studio rather than a sweat gym. It was a high airy room, often lit, as it was now, by natural daylight from roof-level skylights, so that it had brighter illumination than in most of the other rooms at the Club. It was equipped with a traditional hardwood floor, numerous mirrors and a wooden rail firmly fixed to three of the walls.

I slipped inside, closing the door quietly behind me. Lady Jane was already warming up, performing a series of


stretches and bends to flex her muscles. She is a slender athletic woman with flat breasts and a haughty demeanor, augmented by fine blonde hair bound up in some casual way, and a slightly hatchet-faced look.

She was quite naked, except for a pair of black woolly leg-warmers. The muscles in her thighs and back flexed enticingly as she performed the splits - I can do that too - but Lady Jane has astonishing bodily flexibility. As I watched, she lifted one leg to near vertical whilst the other foot was planted flat on the floor, offering me a clear view of her shaved and perfect pussy.

I knew the drill by now, and moved over to one of the mirrors which hid a storage closet. I slipped out of the uniform clothes the Club provides - Lady Jane likes her assistants to be as naked as her - then opened the closet. Inside, on a shelf, lay Lady Jane's favorite machine - indeed, the only one she ever used, at least at this club. When inert, it was a black shell, curved and shaped like a seat for a doll. As I picked it up, it was already warming and writhing slightly as the automation sensed the need.

Lady Jane stood still, arms raised above her head in a pose, and looked at me.

"OK, I'm ready," she said finally.

I pressed the curve of the machine against her ass. It reacted quickly as it recognized the cue, wrapping itself seamlessly around her waist and thighs. I could see it pressing itself against her anus and holding open the lips of her vagina as it closed over her, eventually encasing her almost entirely around the waist.

She stepped away in that controlled manner that dancers have and continued her exercise routine. She bent backwards into a crab, then rolled over and started making sinuous cat-like movements on her hands and knees, alternately raising her shoulders and her ass.

The smart machine started inserting itself into her asshole and cunt, as it had been programmed, the rhythmic movements just visible as Jane pranced and pirouetted around the room. As she got hotter and wetter, the part of the machine thrusting in her vagina started expanding sideways, stretching her wide open. Despite herself, Lady


Jane cried aloud and again, breathing heavily, until she reached the moment where her orgasm was almost inevitable.

"Now, Tania," she commanded,

She lay back on an exercise mat and crossed her ankles behind her head. The machine responded too, opening a tiny hole in the black material so that her pink and swollen clitoris was revealed. I knelt, gently licking her clit, watching enviously as the machine continued to fuck her ass with increasingly violent movements, while stretching her pussy wide enough for deep penetration by a Satyr.

"Harder!" she gasped.

I complied, energetically tonguing her for the minute or so before bringing her to the shuddering orgasm she had so very much desired. As Lady Jane came, the machine sucked itself out of her pussy in an eye-blink. This movement, together with the contractions of the professionally powerful muscles in her thighs and ass, jetted a quantity of her intimate juices over my chin and breasts.

Lady Jane's screams went on for an impressively long time. I knelt back and, on a whim, massaged my tits with her cum, wiping down my chin with my hand to have juice enough to lubricate the opening between them. Meanwhile the machine gently disengaged itself from her and rolled to one side. I stood up, then bent over to pick it up.

"Thank you Tania," Lady Jane breathed, eyelids still fluttering, "You may go now."

Silently, I returned the machine to the closet, where the PA would clean and ready the toy for the next user. I collected my uniform, although I did not bother to put it back on.

As I left the room, quietly closing the door behind me, I realized that, as always, she had not touched me and I had not touched her, except for my tongue on her clit.

Part 2

This was not the first time that Lady Jane had squirted over me as she came. The exciting aroma of her juices filled my nostrils and was, I suspected, already mingling with my


own increasing moistness. I had to do something about that, right now.

I wandered through the maze of passageways and linked rooms which made up the Club's lower floor until I reached the wet area: a variety of pools and hot tubs, almost everywhere running with water. The low light level, patchy and flickering, added to the ambience, being chiefly illuminated by what someone from the Dark Ages of the Twentieth Century might have assumed were candles. Everywhere one looked, sexy people were enjoying each other's company, in two and threes and larger groups.

I found an unoccupied shower cubicle at the edge of the area and slipped inside. It was the work of just a few minutes to give myself a couple of willy-nillys. I stood in the shower, water turned off, rubbing Lady Jane's juices into both of my cunts with my fingertips. As I relished the smell of her on my body, I wondered what it would be like to enjoy more intimate moments with that blonde ice-queen.

As I masturbated furiously, I sagged to the stall floor, opening my legs as wide as its confines would let me. My heat first burst out from between my legs, spreading rapidly upwards. it was only as the quivering of my second orgasm subsided - from the vagina between my breasts - that I realsied that I had been closely watched through the semi-transparent door of the shower stall.

I grinned, waving at my unidentified admirer, beckoning them - whoever they were - to join me. I could just make out a sorry-looking shake of the head and then the observer vanished into the dimness of the room.

Sighing, I turned on the water and showered off quickly, before drying myself in the hot air from the built-in blower.

Stepping out of the stall, I slipped back into my uniform. The shortest of miniskirts and the sleeveless bolero jacket had little to do with covering me up; it was more as a means of identifying members of the Club staff.

As I dressed, I could see two slender men kissing luxuriously while immersed in the bubbling water of a nearby hot tub. One was sitting on some submerged ledge or seat, while the other stood, legs braced, bending over to hold his friend gently on each side of the face.


The Club runs the bubble jets in the tubs almost all the time. I knew that stimulating impacts of the agitated water was found to be pleasurable by many people, although it also has the desirable side effect of allowing the automation to move more quickly under water without being seen.

The couple in the hot tub was being assisted by another Club employee I knew as Alan. He was only interested in Norm men and Types with a distinctly male aspect, a disability known technically, I'm told, as homosexuality.

Alan and I had had a conversation about this one quiet evening. He agreed that being interested in only one sex reduced his opportunity to encounter entertaining partners. He knew this, intellectually, but insisted that there was something ineradicable inside him which found the more feminine forms much less attractive.

At first, I was surprised that Madame Maxine permitted him to work here, but later I realized that most guests would not even realize, or care, and that he really was very good at understanding precisely what certain sections of the clientele really wanted.

From the urgency with which the two men in the hot tub continued to embrace one another, and the increasing tensions visible in their bodies, it was clear that they were enjoying more than just the taste of each other's lips. Curious, I moved closer; looking below the waterline, I could just make out the black shape of some complex machine - possibly more than one - from the Club's arsenal was at work.

It was difficult to make out exactly what was happening through the roiling waters. As far as I could see, two dark flexible tubes had fastened themselves over the cocks of both men, presumably squeezing and stimulating each dick in synchronization. A further black shape could just be glimpsed under the sitting man's backside, no doubt a throbbing butt-plug. The standing man was being fucked in the ass by Alan.

As I watched, the two guests cried out, grasping each other harder and achieving the simultaneous orgasm they had wanted. Alan politely came too, joining in the fun to everyone’s approval. Sometimes the old-fashioned ways are the best, after all.


Part 3

Back to work. As I emerged from the wet room, I happened upon a couple - a man and a woman - who were inspecting a selection of penis extenders in a display cabinet. The racks displayed a range of black cylinders of different lengths and widths, featureless down the sides with one end finished in a plain hemisphere and the other flattened, with a tiny dimple in the center.

"Can I help you with those?" I asked brightly.

The woman, a short and curvaceous figure with jet-black hair and white - almost translucent - skin, turned to face me.

"We're not sure which one to pick," she said.

Her partner was much taller than her, and a little on the skinny side, I thought. He nodded his agreement with her expressed sentiment, looking distinctly confused by the choice available.

"You should follow the Golden Rule," I said, grinning, "The Marquis Doll Rule of penis sizes."

"What's that?" the man asked.

"You always want a dick bigger than you think," I replied mischievously, "Even when you take into account the Marquis Doll Rule."

The woman laughed aloud.

"You're so right, honey," she said, adding, "It seems so obvious when you explain it like that."

The man was grinning too. He selected a particular cylinder from the rack and held it up for inspection.

"What do you think, Darlin'?"

"Looks perfect to me," she replied, "Why don't you bring it over here."

I directed the two guests to a nearby private room, figuring that they would want to take advantage of the selected toy immediately. As they entered, they divested themselves of their towels - I think they had themselves just emerged from one of the pools in the wet room - and tossed them aside. I could see that there was something hidden in


the woman's hand, although I could not make out exactly what it was.

"Come over here, sweetie," she said seductively, addressing her friend and indicating a soft leather-look couch, "And make yourself comfortable."

She playfully pushed him down on on the seat, then pounced on his rapidly hardening manhood, licking the head energetically before plunging her mouth over his erection. The man arched his back in pleasure, thrusting his pelvis forward to keep his dick deep in her throat.

"Can I help, too?" I enquired politely after appreciatively watching the cocksucker at work for a minute or two.

The woman stopped sucking his penis for long enough to answer.

"Sure can, honey," she gasped, "I know he just loves it when he gets thoroughly attended to."

I knelt beside her and helped the woman suck her boyfriend's cock, alternately licking his balls and deep-throating him, enjoying the sensation of its warm stiffness in my mouth. This, of course, had the desired effort of getting his hard and erect. It was nicely shaped but, speaking with professional experience, not particularly large.

The penis extenders are another of the special features the Club offers its members. Sensing the moment was right, I picked up the toy the couple had selected earlier and pressed the dimpled end over the end of the man's rigid dick. The automation in the device awoke immediately and a swirling movement of silver ran along its sides. The toy opened up and slid over his erection, while the outer surface immediately formed a faithful representation of the man's dick in shape and color and texture, but now - to the visible delight of the woman - several sizes larger.

"I need that inside me," she purred, running her hand over his suddenly enlarged dick, "Right now."

She picked up the items that she had hidden in her hand earlier and showed them to me.

"Perhaps you help us with these, too?" she suggested.


She was holding two sets of anal beads. One was in Dayglo-pink plastic, soft and flexible. I gently took it from her hands and examined it with interest; it seemed old and was quite probably a genuine antique.

"This must be worth a fortune," I breathed, eyes sparkling. I was thrilled to be handling something so very old and valuable.

"It's a family heirloom," she explained coyly, seeing my acute interest, "My father gave it to me one night long ago - and very intimately, too."

I moved to return the precious sex toy to her, but she demurred.

"I promised that one to him this evening."

The other set of beads were modern, made from the same automation-infused pseudo-material as the penis extenders. I reached for it, knowing what to expect. The automation sensed me picking it up, started moving, twitching, seeking an orifice to invade, and looking very much like the tail of some warlike and reptilian alien. It was another of the Club's more popular items, a prime example of the Penetraz (TM) range.

"And I suppose you want this one, then?"

"Oh, yes," she replied, grinning wickedly at me.

With just a little encouragement, the woman knelt down on the floor, pressing her tits and face into the soft surface of the couch. She spread her legs wide, allowing me to hold her ass cheeks apart. I licked her anus, forcing the tip of my tongue inside her, before swinging my tongue down over her clitoris a time or two. I slipped first one finger, then two, into her cunt, then repeated the same digital penetration on her anus.

I was closely watched by the man, who was wanking his extended dick with much appreciation both of the toy itself and the view of my fingers and tongue stretching both of the woman's openings.

The automated beads were now writhing frantically, exuding its own glistening lubrication. I pressed the tip against the woman's anus, admiring the juxtaposition of her white skin and the metallic silver-and-black of the


penetrator. The automation moved at lighting speed, burying nearly its full length in her ass and causing her to cry out with pleasure.

"Now, Darlin’, now," she called to the man.

He slipping his extended dink in her cunt, already moist and open for him, pressing deep into her immediately and making her cry out again. The automatic beads were pulsing visibly, and I was sure he could feel their vibrations through both her body and the penis extender.

I thoroughly moistened the inert beads in my mouth, then eased them into the man's anus, moving skillfully - even if I do say so myself - with his vigorous and rhythmic thrusts.

I knew I would not have long to wait. The woman was already close to coming, the thrusting in her cunt and the vibration in her ass driving her to paroxysms of pleasure. The man too was working his way up to a huge orgasm. I watched them closely, waiting for the moment, the first flushes of their joint orgasm. As they screamed at their loudest, I withdrew both sets of anal beads in a series of jerks, vicariously enjoying their pleasure - and feeling just a tiny bit frustrated myself.

Part 4

The Chromium Shaft Club is a fun place to work, exciting and sexy most of the time, but it can also be both exhausting and frustrating, watching and helping - often, in the most intimate ways possible - other people getting their rocks off. Unsurprisingly, by the time I get back to our little flat after a four hour shift at the Club, I often feel more than a little tense.

On this occasion, Renie was already home. She gave me one long concerned look as I fell in at the door.

"I know just what you need," she said, holding my hands and kissing me gently, "You go and take a nice shower, and then I'll see what I can do to make you feel better."

I smiled wanly, appreciating Renie's kind thoughts. I dropped my little purse in the corner, tossed the uniform jacket and skirt at the wall - the automation made it disappear as soon as my back was turned - and stepped into the shower room.


When I returned to the main room ten minutes later, showered and dried, my dear friend had re-arranged the furniture - with a little help from the PA, of course. On a low table to one side, there was a steaming glass of that meaty drink that is my regular beverage. Next to it was a plate of hot savories, my favorites, high in the fats and protein my metabolism craves. In one smooth movement, I dropped my towel and sat naked and cross-legged on the cushion that Renie had placed before attacking the foodstuffs ravenously.

As I ate, I looked around at the other arrangements Renie had made. The futon had been moved to the center of the room, and a large and fluffy towel had been laid across it. A little bottle of my favorite massage oil stood open to one side. The room lights were down low and, sensing Renie's subliminally expressed requirements, the automation had provided gently flickering lighting at floor level around the futon.

I demolished the snacks in record time - I do not usually need to eat very much, but my antics at the Club had put an edge on my appetite this evening. Renie had joined me at the table, sitting on another cushion and sipping at one of the herb-smelling infusions she enjoys. We chatted while our drinks cooled. I told her something of my encounters at the Club: Lady Jane squirting on me, the couple with the antique anal toy, and my unidentified admirer outside my shower cubicle.

Renie reciprocated with tales from her day-job at the local Hair and Beauty Clinic: the dizzy brunette who made her move a tattoo from one buttock to the other - "it's smoother there," he insisted; the regular who wanted her pubic hair trimmed into the shape of her boyfriend's cock - she had brought in a 3D-photo of the item in question; and the Andie who wanted her nipples enlarged and darkened. The chat, interspersed with gossip about our mutual friends and acquaintances, flowed until the hot drinks were cooled and consumed.

Renie put her cup down meaningfully.

"Now, why don't you go and lie down over there?" she asked, indicated the futon.


I drained the last of my soup, then sprawled face-down on the towel she had arranged. Renie knelt beside me, arranging a pillow for my head. Then, she reached for the bottle of scented oil, warming a little in the palms of her hands. She was herself already naked - we rarely wear clothes around the flat.

"Now relax, Honey," she said soothingly.

She straddled me, kneeling over the small of my back and sitting back so that her ass cheeks pressed against mine. She set to work, massaged my neck and shoulders with her strong and capable hands. I groaned frequently as her hands released the tension in my joints and muscles, as well as enjoying the sensation of Renie's dickgirl cock and her pussy lips running over the base of my spine.

She steadily worked her way down my back, pressing firmly around each vertebra, and relentlessly seeking out and pummeling any knotted muscles. Soon, though, he oiled hands were running over my ass. I arched my back appreciatively and spread my legs wider. Renie gently made me lift up my middle so that she could arrange a second cushion underneath. Now she could give the strong muscles in my thighs a thorough work-over.

My groans and sighs grew louder as Renie teasingly began to run her strong and slippery fingers between my legs, over my anus and vagina. Finally she got both hands on my cunt, which was where she knew I really wanted them. Her oiled fingers slipped inside of me, sliding smoothly in and out at a rate guaranteed to bring me off quickly. With her other hand, she stimulated my clit at exactly twice the rate.

I came hard, and long, screaming into the pillow under my face while my muscles spasmed around Renie's fingers. And then, seconds later, I was stretched out on the futon, fast asleep.


Volume 6 – Jell-O and Cream

Part 1

The management of the Chromium Shaft Club frequently arranges entertainments for the amusement of members and their guests. The names of the acts and the kinds of entertainment to be provided was part of the briefing given to junior staff members - such as myself - on their arrival. I suppose in the Dark Ages of the Twentieth Century such information would have been transferred on paper, or by some time-wasting personal meetings. Fortunately, the Club used the modern approach, the information being conveyed subliminally, by the automation, which as always feels - afterwards - as if you had always known everything about it.

On this occasion, Maxine and Kitti had engaged a troupe of performers known as the Busty Creamers: unusually, all girls and - even more unusually - all of the same Kind, a type known as Partons. Someone once told me that this Kind was named after a famous singer and actress, back in historical times, one who was renowned for her mass of blonde hair and her fabulously large breasts.

Inevitably, then, all six of the bimbos had blonde hair - all artfully curled and tousled - long slender legs and taut asses, and the most immense boobs I had come across in a long time. One of the design features of this Kind, apparently, is the strengthening of the tendons which support their tits so that, despite their size, their breasts are pert and bouncy without any artificial support. I was also told that the musculature in their shoulders and backs are enhanced to support the extra unbalancing weight.

The area of the Club known as The Stage was set for the Busty Creamers' performance. It was actually a circular depression about fifteen meters across, set around with tables and chairs. Banks of private booths and other more luxurious accommodations were set further back in the


shadows, all fitted out in soft Letherz(TM) upholstery in various dark colors.

The stage itself was brightly-lit and bare except for The Vat, a circular tank of a transparent material, open at the top and with walls low enough to be stepped over with only a little difficulty. The Vat contained a gelatinous liquid colored a pale shade of creamy-yellow, currently deep enough to come up to one's ankles.

I was on hostess duty, circulating between the tables and chairs, guiding members and guests to vacant seats, helping them with their drinks and toys, and pausing only occasionally to suck an errant cock or allow a curious member to explore the cunt between my breasts.

Booming bouncy music sounded out announcing the start of the show and the performers danced on waving to the crowd who signaled their welcome enthusiastically with applause, cheers and wolf-whistles. The Partons stepped over the sides of the tank, their long legs making short work of the vertical sides of The Vat. Each dancer was naked, except for a ribbon in a fetching shade of pink. Some wore the ribbon in their hair, others wore it as a necklace; one had it tied around her waist and another around her upper thigh like a garter.

The Busty Creamers launched into the elaborately choreographed introduction to their performance, dancing and prancing around with their feet splashing in the liquid, waving and blowing kisses at the crowd, and bending forward provocatively to allow their pendulous breasts to swing free. The audience loved it, the decibel level of the applause and shouting rising rapidly.

Their next steps formed the troupe into pairs, each pressing their breasts together, the colors of their nipples a startling contrast despite the similarity of their skin tone. The girls then moved to straddle one another with their legs apart, allowing their curvaceous asses and delightful public mounds to be inspected closely by the nearer members of the audience. The girls darted sensual and playful licks to one another's bodies here and there: mouth and neck and nipples and belly and labia were all targets for first modest pecks and later wildly indulgent tongue-play.


The slime inside the vat was thoroughly infused with automation. Mobile silver flecks began to appear suspended within the translucent goop, and the material started to writhe and form of its own volition. The girls started pushing and shoving each other, throwing handfuls of the goop at each other, like the snowball fights I remember from my childhood what seems like hundreds of years ago.

The floor of The Vat must be quite slippery, as the Partons began to slip and slide as they struggled to avoid the projectiles of their fellow performers. Finally, the inevitable happened: accompanied by a roar from the crowd, one of the girls lost her balance, fell into the writhing fluid with a tremendous splash. She sat up a few moments later, grinning wildly and waving her arms to acknowledge the audience reaction, removing the ribbon from her arm and throwing it to the nearest likely-looking member of the audience. The lucky recipient of this favor, a man in the front row, looked delighted, and wrapped the ribbon around his rock-hard dick to the general approval of his companions and neighbors.

The rest of the troupe converged on the performer who had just emerged from the goop. One of her colleagues flipped her own ribbon from around her neck to bind the ribbon-less girl's wrists. Another tipped her onto her back, and together her partners drew her legs back so that her knees were alongside her enormous breasts.

Now held firmly in place by the two girls, the fallen angel was vigorously - even brutally - pleasured by the remainder of the performers. The girls again scooped up handfuls of the slime, which began to shape itself to form the implement the holder wanted, the pervasive automation sensing the subliminally-expressed need, as always, and reacting accordingly.

One of the angel's assailants massaged her breasts with a double handful, sticky and wet, which then hardened in an instant to clamp hard on her nipples before flowing away. Another formed the material into an oozing dong which she slid with skill and passion into the angel's cunt. She fucked her hard for a few moments, then the dildo collapsed to ooze and flowed back into the tank. Undeterred, the Parton repeated the process with a larger portion of the cream,


assisted by a second performer forming a second impromptu dildo to fuck her in the ass.

The lucky girl at the center of all this attention was already having her first orgasm; I imagined she would have two or three more before her colleagues finally released her. The act would, I knew, be repeated with variations until all six girls had had lost their pink ribbons and been fucked senseless, filled by the cream jelly in most every hole.

Part 2

While the performers were on stage, it was my role as an assistant greeter to circulate around the booths and alcoves to help members and their guests, to make sure they had the drinks and snacks they desired or, more usually, to assist with the toys and devices that the club maintained in such abundance. Many of the audience were enthralled by the Busty Creamers, watching fixedly or perhaps masturbating along with the antics in The Vat. Others, equally turned-on, clearly wanted to have sex with their friends and companions while watching the Partons fuck each other on stage.

I came across a booth which was occupied by two women who had clearly appropriated one of the Club's more popular toys - a giant double-ended dildo which appeared to be made from soft pink Jell-O. Like the liquid in the Vat, this toy was obviously infused with automation, which was moving like silvery sparkles inside the translucent material.

One lady, a slender redhead with pale skin and large eyes, lay back on the banquette seating while her friend, a muscular black woman with clipped dark hair and a determined facial expression, knelt between her legs.

The dark-skinned woman was struggling with the dildo, which appeared to have taken on a life of its own, writhing this way and that, presumably confused by inconsistent directions and desires from the ladies present.

"Hi there,” I offered, "You want me to help you with that?"

Both ladies started slightly as I addressed them, but relaxed immediately as they recognized the uniform - a metallic silver miniskirt and matching sleeveless jacket unfastened at the front - which marked me as a staff member.


"I’ve just got to fuck with this one," purred the dark-skinned woman in a deep and sexy voice which drove a tingle down my spine - ending up between my legs, "Can you get this thing sorted out for me?"

She handed me the dildo, which stilled itself immediately in my grasp. I licked the end of the toy a few times, slipping the authentically-shaped head into my mouth. The redhead watched me sucking on the dildo with increasing interest, her mouth opening instinctively as I pressed the dong into my throat.

Meanwhile, the black woman started licking out her friend, kneeling right down with her ass in the air, while touching herself between the legs with one hand. Her red-taloned finger stimulated her own clitoris with a brisk circular movement, lubricated with juices from inside her intimate opening. As I watched, the black woman's touch moved more often to her cunt, fucking herself with first one and then two fingers, the wetness glistening on the deep pink of her labia.

Seeing my cue, I slipped the moistened dildo between those moist pink lips, Holding the toy with both hands and fucking her as hard as I could. The black woman was clearly enjoying the sensation, intensifying her efforts on the redhead's clit until she came, buckling and squealing in pleasure.

I withdrew the toy as the black woman sat back on her haunches.

"Now it's time for me to fuck you properly," she snarled to her companion, taking the dildo from my hand.

She squatted down, knees wide apart, and pressed one end of the dildo inside her. I could see the device expand further and begin to vibrate excitingly. The toy then suddenly expanded in the middle, initially forming a thin disk which then split into strips which eased their way around the black woman's waist and thighs, and turning itself into a double-prong strap-on.

The automation within the toy swirled briefly, and then the device took on the exact coloration of the woman's skin, the sudden apparent naturalness of the dick contrasting with the woman's firm rounded breasts and hard dark nipples.


The redheaded woman gulped, seeing the tip of the toy now curving upwards and pulsing slightly as if driven by an excited heartbeat. Her companion pressed her artificial cock to the moist opening she had been licking earlier. Then, in a single smooth movement, the black woman slid the dick deep inside her friend, eliciting a gasp and a cry of pleasure from the redhead and her own grunt of satisfaction.

I discreetly departed, suspecting that the ladies would be banging each other for hours. Another job well done!

Part 3

The next booth with filled to capacity by a noisy group of shemales, who were sitting round a table and cheering on the girls in The Vat with raucous cries and lewd - and possibly anatomically impossible - suggestions. They looked like they were having a good time without my assistance, and I moved to pass by without stopping, but one of the party called me over.

"Hi there," she said, then added to the accompaniment of much giggling from her friends, "Can you get us a set of ABC's?"

"Sure," I replied brightly, leaning forward to give her a good view of the lips between my breasts, "One for everybody?"

"Oh, yeah," one of her friends replied, "Including yourself. Don't want anyone to feel left out."

I strode off, making sure the girls had a good look at my mini-skirted ass. It took less than a minute to track down a box of the toys they had specified - guided by the PA, of course - and return to the booth.

I would soon discover that these girls were of the classic shemale Kind, with dicks and balls - always carefully shaved - rather than a Dickgirl like my dear friend and flatmate Renie. To a person, they had narrow waists and slender legs emphasized in most cases by the pleated miniskirt their Kind so often favored - presumably because of the potentially painful effects of a sudden erection in a tight-fitting garment - and large boobs barely restrained by halter tops or tight-fitting tee-shirts.


The girls had elaborate hairstyles, each quite different from the others and in complete contrast to the near uniformity of dress they had adopted. It was almost as if this was the sole feature they wished to use to mark their individuality.

By the time I returned, some of the girls had already stripped off their skirts, or hitched them up around their waists. Responding to an unspoken suggestion, the table in the middle of the booth sank smoothly into the floor. There was much fondling of breasts which were bouncing out of their constraining clothing all around me. I allowed my uniform jacket to fall open and slip to the floor, followed shortly by my skirt.

Around me, the girls were licking each other's asses and sucking each other's cocks. I joined in, sucking nipples and penises as they came to hand. Hands and mouths were exploring me too, squeezing my nipples hard, and licking both my cunts and my ass with wonderful skill and abandon.

It was not long before all of the girls had rock-hard dicks and moist anuses. Seeing my cue, I opened the box I had retrieved earlier and drew out a set of synchronized anal vibrators - known as Anal Buzz Cocks, in the jargon - little black dildos infused with automation.

The woman who had called me over made me kneel in the middle of the booth, where the table had been previously, and the girls stood around me, asses towards my face, cheek-to-cheek in a circle.

I made my way around the circle, separating the ass cheeks with my fingers and licking each one - to appreciative moans from the recipient and encouragement from the others - before slipping a little black toy into each opening. When I had finished, there was just one toy left, which I sucked lavishly for a moment before slipping into my own anus.

The girls reformed their circle, now with their dicks inwards. Again, I made my way around the circle, sucking one cock while wanking two others. As I did so, the butt-plug inside me began to vibrate, its force and frequency depending not only on my own level of stimulation, but also on the degree of excitement from all the others in the group.


Inevitably, the girls took to stroking their own cocks, harder and harder, allowing me to first squeeze my own tits, and then start to finger both of my cunts, again to general appreciation. All the while, the vibration in my ass grew stronger and stronger, and I could see the girls' dicks straining and swelling under their increasingly energetic masturbation.

It was not long, before we came, together as a group, the girls exploding a huge quantity of cum over my face and tits, their orgasms - and mine - synchronized by the ABCs throbbing in our asses. The girls' joint ejaculation was the most impressive display of shemale bukake I had seen in a very long time.

More very satisfied customers, I would say.

Part 4

The shemales stood wanking the last of their cum over my breasts, gasping and moaning raggedly with the force of their joint orgasms. I opened my mouth wide, showing just how much cum they had managed to get inside me, then swallowed. I set about transferring the rest of their Dickgirl ejaculations to my mouth, scooping up every last bit with my fingers and licking them with great relish and savoring the different tastes of the jizz that had been sprayed over me.

One by one the ladies sagged back on the banquette seating, legs akimbo, dicks detumescent and their jiggling breasts almost stilled, just rising and falling with their heavy breathing. The dildos in their asses, and mine, quietly slid out of their own volition - the automation at work again, of course. I swept up the toys and returned them to the open box, knowing that the PA would soon efficiently and silently clean them.

"Well, thank you ladies," I said pertly, standing up and surveying the group, "I trust you are enjoying the hospitality of the Chromium Shaft Club?"

The round of satisfied muttering was music to my ears. I grinned broadly, then made to leave.

I collected my uniform clothes and stepped away into the deeper shadows between the booths. Once out of immediate sight, I held out my arms and spread my legs, and closed my eyes. The automation, sensing my need, moved as swiftly


as always, cleaning my skin in a swirl of air and motion around me, and leaving me feeling refreshed and ready for duty.

I slipped back into my uniform and continued my perambulations through the audience, around the tables and between the tiers of banquettes, occasionally greeting a member by name, or introducing myself to a first-time guest.

I approached a larger booth towards the back of the auditorium, where I could just make out a woman lying prone, eyes closed and motionless, on a table between the banquette seating, and surrounded by silent and motionless people. Up here, the view of the performance was limited, and the music somewhat deadened, and the quietness of the group contrasted alarmingly with the energetic and noisy audience elsewhere.

As I got closer, I could see that the elegantly reclining form was adorned with the kinds of food which are popular here at the Club. Jell-O and cream decorated her body in many places - her ample breasts, the soft skin of her thighs, and the delicate swelling of her pubic mound - while pieces of fruit and sweets, and more cream, were arranged artistically around her body on the table itself. A chocolate candy bar had been slipped partially into the woman’s vagina, already excitingly warm and melting gently.

The people in the party themselves were naked, or nearly so: casually worn, or discarded towels and miscellaneous items littering the booth. They held drinks in their hands, and every one of them appeared to be in a state of silent but excited anticipation.

One figure, a large man with a preternaturally jolly expression on his face, turned to me and held a finger to his lips. I stopped dead, following his eyes as he turned his head. Emerging from the darkness of the exit, a blindfolded man was being guided up to the group by a woman. The man was wearing a towel around his waist, and his companion led him gently forward by the hand.

The woman bade him stop with a light pressure on his arm. She then removed the blindfold in a single dramatic movement, to a huge round of cheers and shouts from the group, who as one raised up their glasses in a coordinated toast to the new arrival. Simultaneously, the PA, no doubt


carefully programmed by someone here, provided sparkling simmering lights in amongst the food, in a fashion that someone from a historical era could have mistaken for lighted candles.

The man's eyes widened as he took in the group of friends, the decorated beauty arranged before him. On cue, the prone woman opened her eyes and turned her head to smile and the new arrival. The man's towel promptly fell off, displaying his erect member to another round of cheering from his friends.

"Surprise, Darling!" the woman said, "Happy Birthday!"


Volume 7 – Mom’s Home Cookin’

Part 1

Every now and then, I find myself answering the question: How are Marquis Dolls created? This is usually in one of those late-night conversations, after the initial bursts of sexual desire have been slaked by several bouts of high-energy fucking, and there is a pause for rest and recuperation before a more leisured approach to sex commences - one that I, at least, can keep up all night.

The conversation inevitably starts at the point where my extra bits - the second sexual opening in my chest, between my breasts, and the leather-like skin on my arm and legs. My companion - or one of the male ones, at least - will then comment on my flat and muscular stomach and, even more so, on the strength of the internal muscles between my legs. He will undoubtedly have appreciated this particular intimate spot several times by now.

It amuses me to explain that I have strong muscles inside me because I have nothing else - none of the female Norm's reproductive organs, no womb, no ovaries. Clearly, we cannot give birth ourselves, not having any of the necessary biological equipment. And that's when The Question is asked.

In fact, we Marquis Dolls are born to Norm mothers, or at least were when births were still allowed without a special license. So my mother is a Norm, of course. She had a lot of money back then, and bought the genetic modifications which make me, well, me, at a time when such changes were fashionable. She tells me there was quite a fad for designer babies in those days - "at the birth of modern medical science," she says - and many women elected for radical genetic variations for their offspring in the womb.


I still see Mom on fairly frequent occasions, when I have the money to travel; her business interests, not to mention her immensely active social life, means that she's not often able to visit me. She is an elegant and sexy lady, and certainly manages to get all the lovers she wants.

Mom maintains a wide circle of friends and acquaintances, and likes to entertain a great deal. Indeed, the orgies and swinging parties she hosts occasionally make the high-circulation subscriber blogs and society zines. She had invited me to one of these glittering events, as she often does, and on this occasion I had decided to attend.

My excuse - as if I really needed one - was that I still have several trips left on that Metro pass I had acquired a few days before, and the tickets were only valid until the end of the month.

Part 2

Traveling to Mom’s apartment was a journey of an hour or more but, as it turned out, I need not have worried about getting bored.

On this occasion, I walked the few blocks from the little apartment I share with Renie to the Metro station, enjoying the coolness of the morning under the palm trees that lined the street. From the clear sky and the weather forecast the PA had flashed at me as I left, it looked like being a hot one today.

The first part of the trip ran though the central downtown area and the cars were quite crowded, with standing room only as I got on. Several people got on after me and it was hardly possible to turn around.

The doors had barely closed behind me when I felt my fanny being touched by an anonymous hand. I could feel a firm and urgent pressure running down over my ass, lingering a long while on that narrow strip of soft flesh between the hem of my skirt and the leather-look skin that covers most of my legs.

I did not turn around or acknowledge the touch, other than to arch my back slightly and ease my legs a little further apart - as far as the press of the crowd in the train would allow. Encouraged presumably by my reaction, the hand made its urgent way upwards, now inside my skirt,


running over the very sensitive skin on the inside of my thighs and gently caressing my outer lips. I barely stifled a gasp, although it would probably have been virtually inaudible against the noise of the Metro car. The involuntary reaction to the touch made me push back against my anonymous admirer, feeling that body's heat and pressure right up against me.

The hand withdrew briefly - I thought it most likely to be a woman's, judging by the size of her fingers and the long nails that had been skittering over my skin - and returned a second or two later, two fingertips now dampened, whether by saliva or some other more intimate juices I knew not. Within seconds, her fingertips were expertly running over my clit, the length of the fingers themselves separating my rapidly moistening lips and some other appendage - I think it must have been the knuckle of her thumb - pressing firmly against my anus.

The woman must have been touching herself with her other hand - masturbating frantically, judging by the increasingly urgent movements I could sense against me. Her hands moved in synchronization, rapid desperate movements against my need, and her own. I felt a jerk and an explosive breath behind me as she came, an urgent tightening of her body as the release caught her. It was infectious; I came too, a willy-nilly that made me gasp again, and again.

And not a moment too soon. The car came to a stop, the doors opened and people spilled out onto the platform. As the crush reduced, I turned just in time to catch a glance of a redhead disappearing along the platform. She was a little taller than me, dressed in high heels and a conservative grey business suit - although that skirt was exceedingly short and tight. I could have been wrong, but she might have glanced back at me watching her through the Metro's windows.

Perhaps she made a habit of touching up strangers - perhaps it was part of her morning ritual: a quickie on the train, masturbating on her way to work to help her through the day - or at least until coffee-break. I could imagine that she had a friend or two who would help her out in some quiet part of the office. I felt obscurely delighted that I was able


to help her this morning; maybe, I thought, I should take the Metro more often.

Part 3

The departure of the anonymous redhead had left me as horny as hell, practically dripping from both vaginas and desperately needing a thorough and deeply penetrative fucking. It is at times like this, I thought, when something you really, really need has got to come along right now.

The Metro made its way steadily out of the city. After five or six stops, the downtown crowd had thinned out and the car became almost empty, the few other occupants engrossed in their own affairs. I found myself sitting across the aisle from a really gorgeous black man. He was ignoring me, or at least seemed to be completely distracted, clearly watching some entertainment or other projected directly onto his eyes by some paid-for VAPAware service I did not subscribe to.

Further along the car, a lone woman was masturbating with a tiny hand-held device. Her head lay back against the window, cushioned by her elaborately and artfully arranged black hair. A silver band with the tell-tale glitter of automation covered the upper part of her face, eyes and ears and nose, no doubt projecting some high-quality and immersive pornography to at least three of her senses.

She had thrown one of her stocking-clad legs - a delightfully fashionable retro touch, I thought - up on the banquette seating, the dark weave of the fish-net stockings contrasting with the red leather-look uphostery. A glossy black high-heeled shoe dangled from her raised foot, at risk of falling at any moment.

The blindfolded woman had hiked up her skirt, taking advantage of the side slit to spread her legs very wide apart. She was holding her panties aside and spreading her pussy lips - a delightful pink against the darkness of her skin - with one elegantly manicured hand. She held the tiny toy in the other. It was little more than a thin flim of automation over her fingertips - I was only sure it was there at all because I could see the silvery membrane stretched between her fingers.


The device was twisting and vibrating visibly, adjusting itself to her most intimate contours, as well as the movement of her hand and the thrusts of her hips. Her full breasts, still entirely constrained by the formal blouse and jacket she wore, bounced in harmony with her increasingly energetic movements. Her moans became louder and more prolonged as she approached the second climax she had achieved since I had started watching her. A few last jerks, a final scream - she had made it. I nearly applauded in appreciation and - to be entirely honest - increasing frustration.

Her raised leg dropping to the floor as she relaxed, laying back limply and breathing heavily, apparently sated - at least for the moment, I thought wryly. The blindfold unfolded itself at a touch and dropped into her hand. She secreted this and the clitoral vibrator in her purse, then stood up as the train slowed to a halt. Glancing neither to right nor left, she stepped out of the car, head held high and a distinctly satisfied look on her face.

Part 4

At the other end of the Metro car, another woman was entertaining a Satyr. Satyrs are priapic, able to retain a vast hard-on for hours at a time, and indeed likely to become massively erect at the slightest provocation. I had come across this kind many times in the past, always with exciting and repeatedly satisfying results.

It was once explained to me by a Satyr that the reason his kind never wore trousers, or even a kilt, and were equipped long ago by thoughtful designers with a coat of thick curly hair from the waist down, was that the effect of a rapid and unexpected erection would otherwise be immensely painful. He winced visibly when he mentioned this, suggesting that personal experience had taught him an uncomfortable lesson once upon a time.

This particular Satyr I had fucked so hard and for so long that he was unable to continue for nearly twenty minutes - a record in his experience, I was delighted to learn. Mind you, it had taken me nearly two hours to reduce him to that state, fucking him only with the opening between my legs - the one between my breasts and my mouth being far too small to take very much of his dick inside me. Satyrs do not have


orgasms like Norm men, and have neither semen nor testicles, but can be worked up to a state of continued ecstasy with a little hard work from both parties.

I got the impression that the shapely blonde with the pert tits on the train had not enjoyed a true Satyr before. She seemed surprised - and highly delighted, too - at both how quickly he became hard and the size of his incredibly large dick. She ran her hands - she needed both of them - over the curve of his member and the dome of his helmet, bending forward to run her tongue around the sensitive crease at the base of his glans. As was my experience, it was much too large to get even the head of his cock into her mouth. Satyrs have no foreskin, but they are - again, from my experience - very sensitive around the helmet, and I could see him already shaking in ecstasy.

As I watched, the blonde woman suddenly stood upright, firmly holding onto the handrail with one hand to maintain a balance against the jerky ride of the Metro. He knelt in front of her and lifted her skirt, before expertly performing oral sex, as Satyrs almost always do: licking her out with a thick strong tongue, penetrating her opening with its tip frequently and powerfully, as well as moistening every part of her pussy.

Satyrs have particularly thick saliva and his purpose, clearly enough, was to get the woman as wet and open as he could, with plenty of lubrication to help ease his massive manhood inside her. The attention made the woman moan almost immediately, throwing back her head and half-closing her eyes as she enjoyed his tongue against her.

After a few minutes of this attention, the curvaceous blonde clearly felt as ready as she was going to be. Glancing again at the huge dick that reached to her waist, even though the Satyr was still kneeling, she urged him to stand before turning away. She bent at the waist, still with one hand on the rail, pulled her skirt right up to her waist and spread her legs wide. Understandably, I thought, the woman had adopted a position where she could accommodate as much of his manhood as possible.

The Satyr needed no further encouragement. I could see his saliva glistening on her pussy lips, her other hand was already touching herself, stimulating her clitoris with a rapid


circular movement. He began to rub the head of his dick up and down over her opening, stopping now and again as if poised to enter her.

The blonde turned her head to address her urgent lover. I could not hear the words over the noise of the train, but her lips moved as if to say, "Now, fuck me now."

He pressed forward, her lips opened and an astonishing length of his member slid inside her. She cried out, loud enough to be heard across the car. To my surprise, the Satyr hesitated, and I could see as he withdrew slightly from that first thrust that there was blood flowing down the Satyr's cock.

"Don't stop!" I heard her cry over the rattle of the car, "It's all right. I like it to hurt a little."

I realized that she must be a Madonna, one who was able to restore her hymen, her notional virginity, within hours of a bout of penetrative vaginal sex. I am not sure whether this was a genetic feature - something her mother had specified before her birth - or was a paid-for, optional part of the medical features of the PA, the ones that keep us all young and healthy forever.

Taking her at her word, the Satyr thrust back into her, rapidly working his way to that regular and exciting rhythm that I knew his kind could keep up for hours.

"Fuck me, fuck me now," she cried again, louder this time, "Open me up, make me bleed, make me come."

Part 5

I was watching the blonde and the Satyr so closely that I had nearly forgotten about the attractive man sitting nearly opposite me. Some movement caught the corner of my eye and, as I turned my head, I saw him looking at me speculatively, his eyes roaming up and down my body, frankly appreciating my legs and thighs under my short skirt.

I caught his eye and nodded, delighted to have caught his attention at last. To make my point, I uncrossed my legs and laid back just a little on the seating, as well as lowering the zipper on my jacket enough to show plenty of cleavage and the top of my second vagina. He needing no further urging, and moved over to sit next to me.


"Hello," he said in a soft deep voice, "You look to me like a girl who could use a little company."

"Hell, yes," I smirked, "In fact, I could do with a lot of company, a whole helluva lot, in one or two places right now."

He chuckled, then said in the same liquid tones, "So exactly where would you like that company, darlin'?"

In answer, I completely undid the zipper on my jacket and guided his mouth downwards between my breasts.

"Well, right here would be a good place to start."

He got the message quickly enough. He moved to kneel on the floor of the car and licked me vigorously, if not particularly expertly. At first, he reached up with both hands to caress my breasts, holding my firm nipples between finger and thumb, or rolling them against his own cheekbones.

Wanting more, one of his hands moved to explore between my legs, tentatively at first, as if unsure if he would find a cunt there too, and then more enthusiastically, perhaps delighted to find me already so wet. He probably had not seen me being finger-fucked by the redheaded businesswoman earlier.

I wanted more, too. I urged him to stand, bending forward provocatively as I reach to undo his fly. I could tell immediately I would have to undress him more; he was already so hard, and so big, that it would be impossible to get his dick out without extreme discomfort.

Laughing, he reached for his belt and tugged down his pants and shorts. I knelt, just to get a taste of him right away, the movements of my mouth and tongue over his cock assisted unpredictably by the shake and rattle of the Metro. His dick grew larger under my ministrations, to the point where I could get only a small portion of its length in my mouth, then to my surprise, his cock shrank a little, just enough for him to force almost all of it down my throat.

As far as I could tell, the man was a Norm, although through - I strongly suspected - long practice, he was able to exert some conscious control over the size - both the length and girth - of his cock.


I positioned myself where I could look up at him as he slipped his dick into the wet opening in my chest, now just a little smaller than its maximum girth, I judged, as well as taking in the excitement of the couple fucking and screaming at the end of the car.

Holding my shoulders, he thrust into me again and again, fucking me vigorously, even violently, my tits slapping loudly on his muscular thighs.

"You're good, girl," he said, almost snarling, "Very good. But are you as good at the other end?"

Obligingly, I stood up and bent right over, my short skirt riding up to show him my pussy lips.

"Yes," he grunted, his dick briskly parting the lips of my other vagina. I am naturally more accommodating between the legs, and he must have sensed this, his dick growing large again to fill much more of that intimate passage.

In this position, we could both see the blonde and the Satyr at the other end of the car. The black man's dick grew larger again as the Madonna worked her way up to a second shattering, screaming orgasm. I came too, just seconds before the man inside me shot his load - something I very much like sometimes - filling one of my most intimate cavities with sweet sticky cum.

Part 6

The black man I had just fucked left the Metro at the same stop as me, although it appeared he had to head in the opposite direction. I kissed him farewell, full on the lips - so he could taste his own pre-cum in my mouth - and ran a last appreciative hand over his cute ass. I was definitely right, I considered, sometimes I do get what I really need - and I really will have to ride the Metro more often.

From the rail station, I walked the handful of blocks to Mom's apartment building with a spring in my step. The sun was high and hot - an expression which could have applied to me right now, too.

Mom has a spacious loft on the third and top floor of an antique red-brick building in the outskirts. It was originally constructed as some kind of workshop, I think, from the days


when people actually made things with their hands, and was now carefully preserved and maintained.

Mom's apartment consisted of a large open living space, with traditional separate bedrooms and two bathrooms. I could have lived with her - indeed, I have done from time to time over the last few decades - but I see more of my own friends when I have a place of my own. Her apartment was also equipped with an extensive range of automation, much of it more sophisticated and expensive than anything I could afford.

As I walked in - the automation recognizing me immediately - I was confronted by a bronzed and muscular man wearing a blue-and-white striped apron - and nothing else. He was cooking the old-fashioned way, handling the skillet and spatula with practiced ease. My Mother is old-fashioned enough - and rich enough - to maintain a kitchen in her apartment, rather than relying on made-to-order synthetic food from the PA.

"Hi," he said brightly, "You must be Tania. Your Mother's taking a shower. Can I cook you something?"

I was hungry after all my exertions and I gratefully accepted a three-egg omelet - real eggs, they must have cost a fortune - which I wolfed down as soon as the plate was put in front of me. As I ate, I glanced appreciatively at his toned ass and broad shoulders. I was quite sure that the skillful and well-equipped man was looking after my mother's Inner Woman in more ways than one. And, judging by the way he caught my eye and smiled, I would be enjoying more of his skills real soon now.

Mom emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a large white towel, although her hair was already quite dry and exquisitely coiffured by the VAPAware services. She welcomed me with a huge smile, and I hugged her close for a long moment.

Mom and I are close and enjoy each others' company when we can, and she likes to make sure my needs are catered for. And, of course, I like to satisfy her requirements, too.

"Come and sit with me on the couch," she suggested, leading me by the hand.


I sank into the low leather sofa, lying back against the soft cushions, watching while Mom tossed aside her towel. She knelt on the floor and tugged up my short skirt while I spread my legs wide, before running an expert tongue over the lips of my vagina, sensing the moistness there.

"You've been having a little fun on the way here," she said, grinning up at me wickedly.

I nodded, unable to make any sound other than a gasp of excitement as Mom slipped two fingers inside my opening and began to rub their tips against my G-spot.

"He sure tastes good to me," he added, before returning her mouth to my clit.

"He did, Mom," I managed to gasp, "He sure did."

Part 7

After a bout of me and Mom licking and fingering, luxuriating in the familiar taste and texture of each other's body, we collapsed together on the couch, Mom's head in my lap. I had enjoyed a couple of little orgasms - willy nillies - and Mom had come twice, too.

Lying together, Mom enquired after my life, asking how I was enjoying working at the club. She had used a little of her influence to get me interviewed for the position - well, tried out might be a better way of putting it. But the assessment had been a success, after all - the interviewers had appreciated my abilities and every one of my intimate openings.

"It's great, Mom," I replied, "Everyone's really friendly, and it sure helps to pay the bills."

"That's good, dear," she said, adding with a note of concern, "But don't let them overwork you."

"I won't, Mom," I reassured her.

Our sex play had been watched closely, if slightly surreptitiously, by the bronzed man in the apron, although he was careful to continue with his kitchen duties. As we chatted, Mom nodded in the direction of the kitchen.

"He's new, isn't he?" I asked.

Mom smiled.


"He is. I thought you might appreciate him," she replied, sitting up, "Let me call him over."

Gary - that was his name - turned out to be a Seal. Otherwise close to Normal, he had a large and muscular tongue able to easily lick the tip of his own nose, as he demonstrated as he emerged from the kitchen area, still wearing his apron. The name, by the way, is supposed to be some kind of pun, referring to a physically strong and active man who is also an accomplished eater of oysters.

The bronzed Adonis undid his apron and let it fall - or at least tried to. He had to stop to unhook it from the rock-hard member I had already spotted underneath the cloth. Now completely naked, he came over to stand next to Mom on the couch. Mom could not help herself. She leaned over to take the head of his cock in her mouth, just a couple of hard thrusts which made Gary cry out.

Grinning, I stood up, unzipping my jacket and tossing it and the skirt behind the couch. I knelt to join Mom sucking his cock, taking it in turns for a few minutes until the man seemed ready to explode over our faces.

"Not just yet, Gary," Mom said teasingly, "Tania wants to feel that wonderful tongue of yours."

Obediently, he knelt down on the floor while I lay back on the couch. His hands had already started caressing my tits, taking each nipple firmly between thumb and forefinger. Leaning forward, he ran his tongue repeatedly between my breasts, seeking out the soft lips and enticing opening I have there. His tongue was surprisingly hard and quite rough, and now curved nearly back on itself to form a hollow tube. It was clearly his pleasure - and mine too, of course - to enter me with this most unusual member.

Mom watched in delight as Gary's tongue fucked me. She was close beside me now, eyes bright, one hand exploring between my legs and three fingers of the other fucking her own cunt. It was exhilarating, and I realized that I was going to come - and come really hard - with this man's tongue inside me.

With a cry, I made it. My muscles spasmed suddenly, jerking Gary's tongue almost completely out of the cunt in


my chest. I could the sudden powerful tension around Mom's fingers in the vagina between my legs.

"Well done, Gary," Mom said in a hoarse whisper, "Now it's my turn."

With little urging, Gary lay down on the floor. Mom straddled him, taking his cock - harder than ever, it seemed - deeply into her. She rode him with a rhythmical movement, one I suspected she had practiced many times before, forcing his cock against just the right places inside her.

Watching Mom work her way up to a powerful orgasm, I wondered about straddling Gary's face, although I suspected that his rough tongue would be almost too much for my already highly-stimulated clit.

Mom came, as hard as I had just done, arching herself backwards and shuddering visibly. After a few moments, she lifted herself up as I watched, delighted to see that Gary's manhood was as hard now as it was before Mom had fucked him. A few beads of moisture - Mom's pussy juices - had formed on his helmet and I leaned forward to lick them off, savoring once again her most intimate flavors.

"Go on," Mom said, "I know you need this."

I squatted over Gary, using the strong muscles in my legs to control my descent, to ease slowly - oh, so slowly - over Gary's dick. The combined lubrication of all of today' lovers gave a delicious smoothness to the motion. And then, up again, and down. And again, and again, just a little faster each time.

Mom did the same over Gary's tongue, facing me. We moved together, in synchronization. Our movements allowed me to kiss her passionately a couple of times to enjoy the various tastes which were already mingling in our mouths. Our hands reached out to each other, cupping one another’s breasts and squeezing hard on the other's nipples.

I could feel myself ready to come again, and I could tell that Gary would be ready to spurt very soon. I was just entering that moment of elation as another powerful orgasm swept over me when I Mom say, "Come inside her, Gary. You've deserved it."


My contractions drove him over the edge and he filled me with sweet sticky cum.

"Way to go, Mom!" I gasped, as soon as I could speak, "What a find!"


Volume 8 – Party Glitter

Part 1

My mother had bought me a party dress. a low-cut one-piece, the Little Black Dress that every woman is traditionally supposed to have. It fitted itself to my body perfectly, the automation in the fabric adjusting to cling to my curves like the finest black silk. I adjusted it to display a lot of cleavage, the PA reacting instantly to my directions, flowing deep between my breasts to show just the tiniest hint at the deep red lips positioned between my tits. The PA also dressed my hair, something I can rarely be bothered to do for myself, curling it into an artfully tousled mass on my head.

Mom also presented me with a leather choker necklace, the color almost identical to the naturally dark and strong skin on my lower legs and feet, where a Norm would wear shoes or boots. The choker was set with brilliant-cut white stones which were probably Diaminz™ - artificial diamonds, although without the flaws and imperfections of the real thing.

The necklace was accompanied by matching ankle straps and bracelets, which made it look as if I was wearing real shoes and gloves, and earrings which molded themselves to my lobes in a moment.

I felt like a million dollars, although in truth the whole outfit probably cost only a tenth of that. Mom herself put the final touches to the fit of my garment before licking me on the lips just made visible between my breasts.

"There," she said, standing back approvingly, "Everyone in the room will be wanting you now."

While we had been dressing, the apartment automation had been busy, re-arranging the furniture and setting out plates for snacks and glasses for drinks. As her guests arrived, the PA would fill them on demand, knowing - or at


least predicting with astonishing precision - each guest's preference at that time and place, based on a lifetime's intensive observation and insight.

Mom and I emerged from the bedroom together, just as the first of her guests appeared at the doorway. Gary had also changed for the occasion, now wearing a stiff white collar and black bow tie, together with formal cuffs set with glittering stones. Otherwise, his torso was bare, providing a perfect opportunity for him to show off his oiled and rippling muscles. It was a classic look, and one he was able to carry off to perfection; he was quite an attraction, or perhaps distraction, as he welcomed the guests and directed them to the drinks and buffet.

Mon took her place close to the entrance, greeting those people she knew with a kiss and embrace, and those she did not similarly - although once or twice I detected an embrace with more than a little lingering passion as a particularly interesting personage passed through.

The automation in Mom's apartment is really something special. Even now, she is able to afford several fairly expensive value-added services which she utilizes to the full for the frequent parties and social events she hosts. As the room filled with people, and the buzz of conversation and the crush of warm bodies increased, the apartment became correspondingly alive with the magic of the VAPAware.

The walls of the room, normally dull and unmoving, were now alight with soft glows and scarcely-glimpsed blurs of movement. The PA constantly monitors the direction of one's gaze, tracking the movement of the eyeballs and the direction of one's attention so that, when the automation moves to perform whatever function is requested or required, it is always out of direct sight.

In an empty room, of course, the PA works with minimum hindrance and this is when non-urgent background tasks, like cleaning, are performed. Similarly, if one sits quietly, reading a static book (how fashionably archaic!) or watching some old-style flat-screen entertainment, the motion of the automation is barely perceptible.

In a room full of alert active people, on the other hand, the PA has to work very much harder to remain unseen. At the party, the air continuously blurred with movement, only


sensed subliminally, in the corners of the eye, accompanied by a faint buzz and hiss, occasionally audible over the music and the chatter, as the automation rushes to attend to everyone's wants and needs.

I suppose this rush of barely glimpsed movement might have been confusing, perhaps, to one who had never experienced it, but it has been so much a part of my everyday life for so long that it becomes easy enough to ignore. It’s just a part of the world.

Part 2

The dress code for Mom's parties - and for many other social events in her circle, I'm told - demands exquisite elegance and at least some clothing. Mom does not approve of unadorned nudity at her soirees, although the interpretation of "clothing" can be very broad, to say the least.

For example, the statuesque black woman adorned with matching nipple tassels, gloves and long boots was

considered entirely acceptable. So was the white-blonde ice fairy with silver body paint and lacy wings held in place with

white Letherz (TM) straps around shoulders, waist and thighs. The wings could actually make her fly, at least for a few moments - she would demonstrate several times during the party - thanks to some fairly elaborate and probably

quite expensive VAPAware.

A very debonair satyr entered the room and immediately greeted by Mom. The thick curly hair which covers his Kind from waist to ankle was neatly coiffed and set about with jewels, offset by a formal white shirt, black jacket and bow tie, polished black shoes and a burgundy cummerbund demarcating the line between Norm skin and hairy coat.

After welcoming the satyr effusively - probably an old friend, I imagined - Mom introduced him to a curvaceous woman with a mass of dark ringlets on her head and a patrician's nose, who was classically dressed in a white toga and smoking a long brown cigarillo. She eyed the satyr speculatively, clearly impressed by his urbane elegance - or perhaps the immense penis which could just be made out nestling in that dark fur. I thought I caught a glint in Mom's eye as she whispered a remark in the other woman's ear. The satyr affected not to notice, but extended a formal elbow


and escorted the Greek goddess towards a couch in a far corner of the room.

The goddess had arrived with a friend also adopting an Olympian appearance. He was also wearing a white toga and simple sandals, set off by a mane of white hair and a long beard. He had a deep and commanding voice which I could make out across the room, even over the buzz of conversation.

Mom had introduced this god-like figure to a woman wearing a long coat of Reel Fur(TM) fastened with a single loop at the front - the mock fabric two shades lighter than her auburn hair - and teeteringly high and strappy shoes. It was abundantly clear that she wore nothing else underneath the coat, and the curve of her breasts and her smooth pubic mound were highlighted by tiny jewels which glowed with intermittent illumination. I could see that her intimate lighting was keyed to her emotional reactions, through the agency of some VAPAware, no doubt, judging by the way the lights flashed brightly just after the Olympiad whispered some exciting suggestion in her ear.

Next to arrive was a man of medium height and build, with well-trimmed dark hair graying slightly at the temples. He was wearing a tailored dressing gown and smoking a pipe. I suspected he was of a Kind known as a Hefner - otherwise close to Norm, he would have insatiable sexual desires which made him very popular in certain circles, since he would be capable of energetic and prolonged sexual activity.

I had heard gossip that said that Hefners were at risk of being driven to a frenzy of frustration unless they had sex every few hours. This seemed unlikely to be a problem here, since Mom's guest was surrounded by three clinging and giggling women, all dressed in the fashionably archaic style of bunnies - complete with floppy ears and fluffy tails - all held in place by the automation, it seemed, since they were otherwise naked.

The room had been filling steadily was the guests made their appearance. Here were a pair of tiny women - evidently athletes and gymnasts - who looked as if they might be of Chinese origins. There, a trio of elegant women in long and stylish dresses, the skirts slit to the waist and


deeply plunging necklines which barely concealed their pert tits. Yet another woman wore a short one-piece dress, strapless and cutaway both front and back - I could not imagine that the garment could possibly stay in place without the full-time intervention of the PA.

Mingling amongst the guests were a number of bloggers and journalists - those who wrote in a journal every day for their own - and others - amusement. They were easily identified by the slightly distant appearance - preferring to observe rather then to interact - and their tendency of murmur observations into hidden recording machinery. The presence of these commentators is always a plus for a social event - while anyone could find out endless details through the PA, these professionals added insight, wit and editing skills for the consumption by a much wider readership.

There was a sense of energy in the air, the electric buzz of conversation at risk of drowning out the music (managed of course by the automation) as the alcoholic drinks and other stimulants in circulation raised voices and reduced inhibitions. It was, truly, a wonderful party, with the guests circulating - greeting and chatting, flirting and petting - and all underlain by the subliminal motion of the automation, making sure glasses were filled, cigarettes were lit and that scraps and debris were removed instantaneously.

It looked like being an event to remember.

Part 3

I watched Mom at work for a few minutes, the perfect hostess: the life and soul of the party. She appeared to recognize almost everyone who arrived, as well she might - it was her event, after all - although I thought I caught the momentary distraction of the PA flashing a reminder or confirmation at her.

By contrast, I knew almost nobody in the room. Not that this bothered me overmuch - I am quite adept at making new acquaintances. Right now, I could tell I was attracting the attentions of a slender man dressed as if for old-style yachting in an blue blazer with brass buttons, white trousers and a cravat. I caught his eye and smiled, and he hurried over. I always like an enthusiastic reaction in a man.


"Hello, sailor," I said with conscious irony, "What brings you into port today?"

"Ahoy, ma'am," he replied with a wide grin, keeping up the nautical theme, "Coming ashore to meet the natives."

The sailor man had perhaps the most beautiful eyes I had seem in a long time, large and dark and ringed with the most delightful lashes. Under the tie and blazer, the man's torso was naked; I could see he had put a lot of effort into building up his abs and pecs. The thin material of the white trousers was stretched tight over the man's legs and tush, as well as highlighting the curves and bulges of his package. He looked to me like a man who liked to make an effort - something I always appreciate.

"Fancy a glass of grog, shipmate?" he enquired, clearly flattered by the looks I was giving him.

"Aye, Aye, Capt'n," I responded, slipping my arm through his and guiding him towards the drinks area where two glasses of rum and water were already waiting for us.

Mom always likes to arrange a few entertainments for her guests, and it seemed that one of these performances was about to start. At the sound of drums, the lighting in the large room changed suddenly, plunging much of the room into dear-darkness while leaving a central open area brightly lit. Dramatic music struck up, and the athletic Chinese women I had noted earlier, now completely naked and their bodies’ slick with oil, bounded into the lit arena.

Everyone turned to watch. We were treated to a virtuoso display of sexual gymnastics, the two girls displaying incredible bodily flexibility. As the music banged and clashed, the two women slipped and rolled over each other, their bodies sliding together in a blur of artistic movement. As they spun and danced, they managed to pass mouth over nipple, and finger over pussy, then toe over clit, and mouth over anus, again and again, no two movements alike and always precise and perfectly controlled.

At the culmination of their act, they formed a near-perfect circle, one arched forward and the other backwards, each with their mouths pressed to the others pussy lips. They circled the room like a cartwheel, then flexed and re-formed their circle in reverse, this time each with the fingers of one


hand inside the others vagina. They spun again, fingering each other to a throbbing orgasm synchronized to a crescendo in the music - and very probably the simultaneous orgasms of at least three members of the audience.

The Chinese performers bounced up, then held hands and took a bow to tumultuous applause. The girls were clearly still in a state of intense physical and sexual excitement, breathing deeply and perspiring freely. They kissed each other warmly, licking each other’s mouths eagerly, then bounded off in the direction of the kitchen - whether to get a drink of water or fuck each other senseless I was not entirely sure.

"The natives are friendly, hereabouts, then?" the sailor enquired of me.

We had standing close together during the performance, fascinated by the movements of the dancers. We had not been entirely distracted by the act, though - he had been caressing my ass under the fabric of my little black dress, and i had been responding in kind through the thin material of his trousers.

"Oh, very friendly," I agreed, "Look at these locals, f'instance."

A group had formed around the Greek Goddess and her friendly satyr, now sitting together on a couch that the automation had earlier moved to the side of the room. The satyr had evidently been excited by the ladies' performance and now was sporting the immense erection typical of his Kind. The Goddess had clearly decided that this was too good an opportunity to waste, and was now licking and sucking his cock - even though she was unable to get more than the very tip of this dick in her mouth.

As we watched, the curvaceous woman slipped out of her white toga and bent forward over the padded arm of the couch, guiding the immense cock towards the soft folds between her legs. The satyr entered her slowly, necessarily gently given the size of his penis, although the goddess soon pressed herself back onto him, urging him deeper inside her. The satyr started a series of smooth and deep and powerful thrusts - the kind he could keep it up all day - accompanied by an increasingly loud series of cries and moans from the


shapely woman. I was sure she would achieve the first of several orgasms very soon.

Evidently even more excited now, my sailor-man squeezed my ass more firmly. In response, I arched my back and pressed myself towards him, opening my legs and allowing him to sample with his fingertips my moist - oh, so wet! - opening. I ran my hand over the bulge now straining the fabric of the man's trousers, which split and folded away at my touch - no doubt some feature of the PA sensing both his, and my, urgent need. I grasped his cock, a particularly shapely example, appreciating its hardness and upturned curvature which would, I knew, reach a great many immensely sensitive places deep inside me.

The sailor swung me around and pressed me down over the other end of the couch, my face close to the goddess's - her eyes now closed and screaming as her orgasm ripped through her. Without further fuss, he positioned his delightful manhood over my pussy lips, then slipped into my wet and welcoming opening. I was fucked hard, even violently, by the sailor, his cock plunging into me again and again with fierce abandon.

The curvaceous woman facing me opened her eyes, which widened as she realized what she was seeing. Now panting together with excitement, our eyes locked and our lovers synchronized their thrusts; my first screaming orgasm coincided, as it so often does, with the Goddess's second cumming.

Part 4

The party was already in full swing - definitely swinging! - when I first caught sight of the man I would know as Dragon. He appeared inside the apartment door, a tall suntanned man of medium build whose trimmed steel-grey hair was swept back from his forehead and set off by a black silk Kimono decorated with entwined red dragons in the classical Chinese style. I immediately noticed that he had a strange air of cool determination about him, a man clearly used to being in control of his own destiny.

His companion was a slender woman whose skin was the most delightful caramel color. Her dark hair was clipped very short, and dark lashes and heavily made-up eyes were set in a small and exceptionally pretty face enhanced with


red lipstick - which immediately made me lick my own lips appreciatively. She was decked out in high-heeled strappy shoes, and elaborate straps and buckles - all dotted with Diamintz (TM) - around waist and breasts and thighs, which emphasized rather than concealed her tits and pussy. Around her neck she wore a studded collar, again decorated with sparkling gems, with an attached lead whose handle was casually held by the Kimono'd man. She looked like someone's elaborately cared-for and very expensive pet.

Mom rushed over to greet the newcomers, reaching up to kiss the man warmly on the lips, her hand behind his head to encourage him to respond. He responded in kind, cupping her ass with one hand and pressing her firmly against him. His slave stood demurely behind him, face downcast - although I could see her eyes flitting to and fro checking out the other guests.

Disentangling herself, Mom beckoned me over and introduced me in the rather formal way she sometime affects at her parties.

"Tania, this is Brandon O'Reilly."

"Call me Dragon," the man said in a deep voice, shaking my hand in that delightfully old-fashioned way, "Everyone does."

"Pleased to meet you. And who's your friend?" I asked, nodding at the slender girl behind him.

Dragon tugged delicately on the leash that he held in his left hand. The slave-girl took two steps forward, still looking at the floor.

"This is Lyanne."

The girl looked up suddenly, catching my eye with the most incredible expression of pure lust I had come across in a long time.

"Now I need to have a long chat with my dear old friend," Mom interjected, she and Dragon affecting not to notice the other woman's reaction and putting her arm around the man’s waist, "Why don't you go play with Lyanne?"

"Good idea," Dragon agreed, casually handing me the handle of the leash. He and Mom turned away and wandered off in the direction of the drinks glasses, two of


which had filled themselves automatically the instant I glanced away.

Lyanne seemed slightly bemused by the noise and bustle of the party and I wondered if she was a little shy, despite the directness of her come-on look a few moments before. She seemed curious about my arms and legs, reaching out to touch the soft dark leather that forms my skin over those parts.

I looked around. No-one seemed to be paying any attention to us, intent on their own conversations and flirtations.

"Let's go in here," I suggested, indicating the bedroom doorway.

She swallowed, nodded and followed me inside the room. I had barely closed the door behind us when I felt urgent hands on my breasts. I turned, leaning back on the closed door, and she kissed me firmly, holding my head in both her hands and exploring my mouth with an intensity I found to be immensely exciting. I could not help but press my mouth back against her, kissing her and licking her mouth with increasing abandon.

"Turn me loose," she begged, pulling away momentarily, "Let me run wild!"

I unclipped the leash, an action which had no practical impact whatsoever but was clearly part of the role she had imposed upon herself. No sooner had I let the leash fall to the floor then she pounced upon me, kissing me on the lips again and again, exploring the most intimate recesses of my mouth with her tongue.

Her attention moved lower down my body, first, to my neck - licking and nibbling that sensitive spot just below my ear - then further down to my breasts. She slipped the little black dress from my shoulders and allowed it to fall, unnoticed, to the floor.

She was clearly exciting my by nakedness and attacked my breasts with renewed enthusiasm, massaging my boobs with both hands and sucking hard on first one, and then the other nipple with an intensity that made me cry out. Perhaps for the first time, she noticed the vagina my Kind


had set between my breasts. She drew back, looking up at me with an expression of incredulity.

"What kind are you?" she breathed.

"I'm a Marquis Doll", I replied, guiding one of her hands between my legs, "We have two cunts, for twice the fun."

"Wow," she replied, grinning, "Pity I've only the one mouth. But a girl's gotta do her best, hasn't she?"

Mow completely unleashed, Lyanne forced me down onto the bed with a strength I would not have expected from someone her size. She licked frantically at the opening between my tits while simultaneously fingering the vagina between my legs. I lay back, spreading my legs and enjoying the sensation of an urgent and energetic lover hard at work on some of my most sexually sensitive places.

Feeling that she was firmly in charge, Lyanne swiveled around, pinning me to the bed with her knees over my shoulders. She wiggled her exceptionally cute ass provocatively, just too far away for me to be able to reach her clitoris with my tongue.

"You wanna taste me?" she growled, "Cos I wanna taste you."

She plunged her head between my legs, extravagantly licking my cunt and ass, returning again and again to my clit, now standing firm and proud and incredibly sensitive under her onslaught. She must have know I was about to come; my moans and cries must have made that clear enough. I bucked and screamed as her relentless stimulation brought me to a shattering climax, held and controlled by Lyanne's weight on me.

"Oh," she laughed, "You do like it, don't you? Let’s see what you can do for me, then."

She pressed her pussy over my face, enveloping me in her sweet, warm, delightfully sensuous flesh.

I knew I'd like this party.

Part 5

Lyanne and I lay together in a tangle of limbs and bodies on the large firm futon that I had shared with Mom on many occasions, temporarily exhausted by our efforts to satisfy


each other and sharing the warm tingle of multiple orgasms still rippling though us. Suddenly, Lyanne stiffened slightly, presumably as some message from the automation was brought to her attention.

"Gotta go," she announced, bouncing up from the bed, "Dragon's calling."

She gripped my hand and helped me up from the futon. I swept up my dress from where it had fallen and slipped it over my head, relying on the automation to repair any damage to makeup or hairstyle caused by our energetic love-making.

"It's been real fun," Lyanne said, adding with a lusty smile, "Let's do it again sometime very soon."

I nodded in response, grinning naughtily, then picked up the leash and swiftly re-attached it to her collar.

We emerged from the bedroom to see Mom and Dragon standing by the door, still deep in conversation. I held the end of the leash in my hand and led the now compliant pet-girl over to them.

"Now it's time for me to leave," Brandon said to Mom, seeing us approach, "Thanks for the invitation. I've enjoyed it."

He kissed Mom again, the unashamed affection of old friends unexpectedly re-acquainted. I handed the leash back to him and he moved towards the apartment door.

"On, I should have said; I may need to get in touch with you," Dragon said evenly, suddenly turning back to me almost as an afterthought, "I have a little job for you - one where your talents will be perfect for my needs."

He handed me a card, a small stiff rectangle alert with the glitter of automation. The PA recognized me immediately and flashing up a welter of information almost too fast to follow. I realized it was a dossier containing a fair degree of detailed information about me, and a lesser degree on Dragon himself. Before I could do more than blink, the card dissolved into nothingness as if it had never existed.

"Of course, if you're not busy right now, why not come home with me?" Dragon asked, still speaking in what I would come to learn as characteristically slow and even tones.


Mom was nodding, encouraging me to take up this most unexpected offer. Lyanne, too, grinned widely, encouraging me - I could tell she would like to have an opportunity for a repeat performance. I looked deep into Brandon's eyes for a moment, seeing a need I thought I recognized - one I was quite adept at satisfying.

"OK, why not?" I responded, nodding and grinning openly.

"Excellent," he said, "Ready to go?"

It took but a moment or two for me to locate and collect my purse. Then, Dragon held the door open for me, ushering me forward before following himself, Lyanne trailing along behind in her accustomed position. I glanced back to wave farewell to Mom. I could see that she was looking gleeful, even satisfied, as if some planned, expected outcome had finally been achieved - although I was entirely unsure just what that might be.


Volume 9 – Dungeons and Dragons

Part 1

I swept down the wide staircase of Mom's apartment building arm-in-arm with Dragon in an old-fashioned formal pose made incongruous by Lyanne in her slave-girl outfit trailing behind us. Dragon held her leash casually in his other hand, guiding her with occasional tugs and nudges.

We passed though the outer door onto the street. It was already dark, although the smart street-lighting made it easy to see in any direction I cared to look. I had expected a trip on the Metro - this was my usual way of getting around for distances too far to walk. Instead, as we reached the edge of the pavement, a long low black car drew up, stopping silently a meter or so away from us. It had the external appearance of a stretch limo from the Internal Combustion Era - so many people are deeply attracted to retro design these days - although this one was evidently a modern reproduction.

The rear door opened automatically as we approached.

"Here, take this," Dragon said, handing me Lyanne's leash. He gathered up the voluminous folds of his Kimono and made his way inside, settling himself in the center of one of the two luxuriously upholstered banks of seats set facing each other in the interior.

I motioned Lyanne to get in the car. She knelt gracefully, making her way though the open door on hands and knees - incidentally allowing me a close and very appreciative inspection of her cute ass. I followed closely, making my way to the opposite row of seats. The door closed with a soft click, and the car slid into motion, the automation firmly in control.

Dragon sat back, an expectant look on his face. Lyanne was kneeling on the carpet between Dragon and me, facing in my direction with her eyes still downcast, while I held her


leash in my hand. I quickly realized what was expected: he had given his pet to me, at least for the moment, and she was mine to do with what I would. I grinned lustfully and glanced at Dragon, who nodded in acknowledgment, a wry grin now playing over his features.

I held the leash handle between my teeth for a moment while I wriggled out of the pretty little black evening dress that Mom had given me - it would only be getting in the way just at the moment - and tossed it casually towards the seating at the other end of the limo.

"Come here, girlfriend," I purred, pulling firmly on the leash to draw Lyanne's head into my lap, pressing her cheek against my thigh. I stroked her hair, smoothing it away from her ear, then nibbled playfully at her lobe.

"I think I need you to lick me again, honey," I whispered, nipping her earlobe hard enough to make her squeak with surprise, "But this time, you'll do it right."

"Yes, Mistress," she replied, glancing up at me with that same astonishingly direct and wanton look.

On a whim, I decided that there would be no penetrative sex just now - not even fingers - and I would make Lyanne bring me to a climax just using her tongue. I kept Lyanne's leash attached to her collar, using it to guide her mouth exactly as I required.

First, I directed her to my breasts. Sensing my need, she licked me like a cat, an impression enhanced by her sinuous movements and kneeling position, running her tongue lavishly over every part of by tits. I made her return again and again to my nipples, pressing them into her mouth and jerking repeatedly at the leash until she sucked satisfactorily firmly on them.

Now, I like my nipples sucked hard, and I was taking this opportunity to delight in the sensation of attention to my breasts without the distraction of being touched elsewhere. Even so, the intensely pleasurable feelings made me want more, and I was rapidly getting damply excited in several places. The second cunt between my breasts, the one unique - as far as I knew - to my Kind, was by now really very wet and a few drops of my intimate moisture began to bead on Lyanne's throat.


Groaning with pleasure, I dragged Lyanne closer, holding onto the leather straps which bound her breasts and pressing her mouth against my second opening. Again, she licked me with abandon, immense cat-like strokes along the entire length of my lips, evidently relishing the taste of my juices. Sometimes, I can come just by having these lips stimulated - there's no clitoris associated with that opening - but I decided I would require her attention lower down.

I pulled on Lyanne's hair, forcing her roughly onto her back. I slid off the seat, squatting over her and alternately pressing cunt and ass against her face. Her tongue was soon hard at work over the folds of my vulva and the tight 'O' of my anus, her saliva and my own juices mingling to lubricate me extravagantly.

While Lyanne gave the area between my legs the attention I deserved, I glanced over at Dragon. Even though the bulky Kimono, I could make out that he had a massive erection - indeed, he must have maintained a hard-on during the entire performance. Even so, he sat quietly, watching out antics alertly, but making no move to either join in or touch himself.

By now, I was ready to come, and I knew how I wanted it. I sat again on the car seat, legs wide apart, and tugged Lyanne's leash to bring her to a kneeling position again. I drew her forward and down, pressing her mouth firmly against my clit. Again, she responded with laudable enthusiasm and I was soon brought to a shattering climax, crying out in pleasure and release, and my head banging against the seat-back, while still steadying Lyanne's head with both hands.

The car drew slowly to a stop.

"We're made it," Dragon announced, "Let's go indoors."

He was so right, I thought. Oh, yes. After that licking out, what I really, really needed was to be fucked long, and hard, and so very, very deep.

Part 2

It was surprisingly difficult to make out any details of exactly where we were. Over the decades, I had become used to the efficient outdoor lighting provided by the PA, always enough to see adequately in the direction of one's


gaze, but without wasteful use of energy to illuminate places which no-one was actually looking at.

As I stepped from the car, following Dragon who was leading Lyanne on her leash, all I could see ahead of us was a doorway in deep shadow, relieved only by a single light source. Dense foliage on either side formed effective hedges - nothing to be seen there. Behind me, the car itself stood on some dark roadway and it was impossible to see anything beyond the vehicle itself.

The door itself was a classic, a work of art: a vast stone archway more than three meters high at the apex, filled with a solid and brooding door in some dark wood, studded at intervals with black metal reinforcements. The door swung open silently as we approached, showing a dimly-lit stone passageway beyond. We entered, and the door closed behind us with a solid thunk.

"Welcome," Dragon said solemnly, "To my lair."

Again, he held out a formal elbow for me to take, which I did. Lyanne looked eager and moved on ahead, tugging at her leash. Dragon smiled indulgently and let himself be drawn forward by her enthusiasm. Kimono rustling, we followed Lyanne down a flight of wide stone stairs.

The corridor opened out into some vast open space. The room was dark all around, obviously underground, and so large that it was not easy to judge exactly how big it actually was. There was pool of light some way off, which Lyanne led us towards, still tugging keenly at her leash.

A heavy table, formed from the same dark wood as the door, stood in the center of the source-less illumination. Its surface was dotted with metal chains and buckles and leather restraints, although I had little time to study them in any detail.

Lyanne crawled up onto the bench, again suddenly cat-like, and lay back, her eyes alight with anticipation and immense sexual appetite.

"Bind her," Dragon instructed softly.

I did as he said, fastening the restraints around her ankles and wrists so that Lyanne was lying spread-eagled on the wooden bench.


Dragon produced a small tube from somewhere and handed it to me.

"My favorite lubrication," he said, "Use it to fuck her for me."

I unscrewed the lid and squeezed a little of the oil it contained onto my fingertips and sniffed it. I immediately recognized the scent viscerally, although it took me a moment to realize consciously what it was. The massage oil smelt of semen - a particularly fine example, in my educated opinion. In a flash of insight, I guessed that the lubrication's perfume - although probably synthetic - was derived from Dragon's own cum.

I nodded appreciatively and drizzled a copious quantity of the oil over Lyanne's pussy lips. She twitched and gasped as the coolness of the oil struck her skin. I oozed more oil on my fingers, then rubbed them over her generously lubricated folds, separating her lips and teasingly toying with her around her opening.

She moaned at my touch, louder as I stimulated the area just around her cunt. She was clearly ready for me, horny after the warm-up sex at the party and no doubt just a little frustrated after the one-sided sexual encounter in the car.

I quickly slid two of my oiled fingers right into her, and was rewarded by a cry of delight and excitement. I started moving my fingers in a circular movement, stimulating the sensitive areas just inside her opening. Her cries got louder, and her pussy got wetter, her own juices mingling freely with the lubrication Dragon had supplied.

I fucked her harder now, forcing my fingers into her and withdrawing them again and again. Sensing her need, I used three and four fingers to open her wider, my hand thrusting again and again against her hot thighs as my fingers intimately explored her vagina.

I was beginning to appreciate just how incredibly flexible and sexually accommodating Lyanne actually was. She was quite possibly the most sexually capable Norm woman I had come across in ages.


"Lyanne should take up a much more, shall we say, accommodating position for us, don't you think?" Dragon suggested to me.

He pulled on one of several chains that hung down, presumably supported in some fashion from the unseen ceiling. The shackles that bound her ankles moved in some complex way, drawing Lyanne's ankles back towards her head and leaving her dripping cunt and shapely ass entirely exposed for our pleasure.

"Remember, you're not to come," Dragon breathed in her ear, "Not until you've been given permission."

She nodded, then said, "Yes, Master."

He was incredibly wet and open now, and I was soon able to slip my entire hand inside Lyanne's gaping vagina. She clearly wanted more, reveling in the intensity of the sexual sensations as I fucked as hard as I could.

It was an intense experience for me, too, fisting this willing and capable slave-slut while knowing all the time that, actually, it was me who wanted to be penetrated, fucked, abused, just like this. I felt myself putting all my physical tension, my own sexual frustration, into the force, the violence, with which I was thrusting my whole hand and most of my lower arm inside this slender girl.

Dragon stepped forward, bending down so that his face was close to Lyanne's.

"Very good, my girl, very good" he said softly, barely audible over her pants and moans, "I think you're ready."

Dragon deftly unclipped the leash from Lyanne's collar. She came immediately, instantly reaching an incredible climax - one which must have been building for the last hour or more - and bucking hard against the restraints and shackles which bound her wrists and ankles. Her orgasm must have lasted for at least a minute, and Lyanne screamed loudly for the entire time, interrupted only when she drew breath to scream again.

I wanted - no, I so needed to come like that.


Part 3

Now that Lyanne was again off the leash, her whole demeanor and body language changed. She struggled violently against the straps and chains that bound her in place, growling inarticulately all the while. Dragon pulled at another of the dangling chains and Lyanne's ankles were lowered, forcing her once again to lie spread-eagled on the heavy wooden bench.

"She's going to be an absolute tiger now," Dragon said to me, "Are you ready for that?"

"Oh, yes," I assured him, "I think she knows what I want."

The flash of pure lust from Lyanne's eyes told me I had guessed correctly.

I started on the task of unbuckling her restraints, starting with her ankles. As the straps came loose, her movements became more energetic, twisting this way and that. I took a step back. Together, Dragon and I unfastened the buckles that restrained her wrists. They flew loose simultaneously.

In a single movement, Lyanne swung off the table and pounced on me, kissing me wetly and forcing her tongue deep into my throat. She gripped my breasts hard with both hands, forcing them together, and twisted the nipples so firmly that they grew redder immediately.

With surprising strength, she gripped me around the throat, under the chin, and brought her face close to mine.

"I know what you want, bitch," She hissed into my ear, "Do I have to make you beg for it?"

I shook my head, unable to speak. She bit me hard on the earlobe, my way of acknowledgement, then swung me down onto the table top she had been occupying only a few moments before. Still gripping me firmly, she forced me face-down on the hard wooden surface. I lay flat, my breasts flattened against the cool boards, the moisture marks created by Lyanne now being joined by my own intimate fluids.

"Stay still," she commanded, "Don't move until I tell you to."


I obeyed. Lyanne swiftly fastened the restraining straps around my wrists, then moved to repeat the operation on my ankles, roughly dragging my legs apart to attach the chains.

She then must have reached up and pulled yet another of the suspended chains that Dragon had used - I had already suspected that she had been here before - which forced me into a kneeling position, legs wide apart and my ass up in the air. I could barely move; I felt exposed and vunerable, and tingling unbearably with sexual excitement. I so wanted to be stimulated, penetrated, fucked hard, but by what or whom I didn't care much right now.

I could see Lyanne picking up the tube of cum-flavored lubrication I had used on her earlier. She squeezed some of the contents onto her fingers and started to smear it onto my face.

"You're a little cum-swallower, aren't you?" she purred in my ear.

I nodded, as best I could. It was true - I've lost count of the times that my breakfast has consisted entirely of those high-protein ejaculations of my night-time companions. I made an attempt to lick the tasty oil from my face, where she had marked me. She growled, and forced two fingers down my throat.

"You little slut," she said, "You're going to get everything tonight."

Lyanne started rubbing the lubrication over my ass, sliding a slippery finger first into my anus - that always makes me excited - and then into my cunt. She must have started using both hands on me, stretching my opening wider and forcing her fingers into my vagina. She knew what I craved, and it was not long before she had her entire hand in side me. I could feel her thumb and fingers pressing against my inner lips.

Slowly, and then with increasing force, Lyanne began to fuck me with her fist. I rocked back and forth, moving involuntarily with the pressure between my legs. No doubt I as moaning aloud, although I cannot now honestly say how much noise I was making. My entire focus, my very being, was now concentrated on the waves of pleasure from between my legs.


Lyanne's energetic pounding was having the intended effect, and I was wide open and ready for the final orgasmic thrust. Sensing my reaction, she forced her hand further inside me, my stretched and tingling vagina so very stimulated by the brutal penetration.

But just when I was verging on a climax, she suddenly withdrew her arm - the bitch! - and I must have cried out instinctively. She can't leave me in this state, can she?

Fortunately, I did not have to wait long. A few seconds later, her warm and wet hand was sliding over my ass again, reaching for me, entering me. I cried with relief as she resumed the fucking motions, again penetrating me so very deeply.

Now fisting me furiously, Lyanne brought me to orgasm after orgasm. I must have come three times in the space of ninety seconds, each release more extended and more powerful than the one before. I could feel my muscles, stretched as they were by Lyanne's arm inside me, spasm and contract powerfully, gripping her hand yet more firmly and setting me off on another bout of exultant cries.

The entire performance had been watched closely by Dragon, who now caught Lyanne's eye and nodded in approval.

"Well," he drawled, "It's seems you girls can be a whole load of fun."

Finally, it seemed that Dragon wanted to join in.

Part 4

I had begun to wonder whether Dragon would join in the sexy fun at all. Of course, I have encountered men - and women, and plenty of other Kinds too - who are voyeurs: who prefer to watch other people having sex and enjoy vicariously rather than participate themselves.

Even so, I had realized that Dragon had been rigidly erect for much, perhaps most of the last hour or more; indeed, I had noticed while I was fucking Lyanne earlier that there had been distinct twitching movements visible beneath the black and scarlet kimono he still wore.

Dragon pulled a chain and released me from the kneeling position. Lyanne bent over me, moving to release the


restraints around my ankles and wrists. I rolled over on the bench, now lying face-up, and looked into Lyanne's face. She kissed me passionately, luxuriously, her taut nipples brushing over my breasts - still immensely sensitive and tingling.

Lyanne seemed to sense what was that I felt: that, even after the numerous orgasms I had experienced during the evening, I was not yet fully satisfied. Sometimes, have lots of energetic and fulfilling sex makes me want even more of the same - I guess this is one of the reasons I am such a horny little slut, I suppose!

Dragon watched us kissing for a few moments, then turned away; as he did so, another pool of light appeared a few meters further into the cavernous underground space. Centered in the circle of illumination was an immense black couch, no doubt upholstered in a expensive grade of Leatherz(TM).

Dragon sat himself in the center of the couch, and looked over at Lyanne and me with an expectantly lustful look on his face. Lyanne gave me her hand and swung me off the bench, steadying me as I stood. We indulged in another long kiss then, as one, we turned to Dragon and walked slowly, enticingly, towards him, each of us with an arm around the others waist.

I seemed to have inherited some of the cat-like characteristics that Lyanne displayed earlier. We girls knelt together, crawling over the couch and Dragon himself on hands and knees, running our hands over the smooth black silk of his clothing.

Lyanne and I opened the Kimono with a flourish. I gasped, glancing at Lyanne who grinned wickedly back at him. Dragon had an incredibly huge penis, larger even than that of any of the Satyrs I have encountered at various times in the past. It was as big as Lyanne's hand and forearm together, beautifully proportioned and rigidly erect.

I was fascinated, and excited, and just a little alarmed, by the mammoth appendage in front of me. Lyanne had clearly had this experience before and knew what to expect.

"I know you want some of that," she whispered in my ear, "And since you've been such a good girl, you can go first."


I began to understand why Dragon habitually wore a Kimono, and also why he wanted us girls loosened up or at least to be assured that we were capable of accommodating his length and girth. I felt myself grow even more excited, oozing just a little of my own wetness from the opening between my breasts, trickling down over my belly. Dragon reached out a finger to gather up the drop of moisture, licking his fingertip appreciatively while holding by eyes with a long stare.

There was no way either of us could get any part of his dick in our mouths, but Lyanne knew of a way we could provide him with oral stimulation. While Dragon sat, Lyanne showed me how to press our opened mouths either side of his glans, like goldfish kissing, moving our mouths in synchronization up and down the length of his penis. Dragon groaned, evidently enjoying the touch, his cock twitching involuntarily as we licked and sucked on him.

He was definitely a long stayer, seeming intent on enjoying both Lyanne and me by turns. At first, Lyanne licked his balls while I squatted over him on the couch. I sat on his dick, guiding it deeply inside me, penetrating me as far as I could possibly manage. I could feel the muscles in my thighs quivering as I moved myself up and down on him, eventually reaching orgasm, coming hard around him, the muscles inside me twitching and spasming around his dick as I screamed aloud.

Lyanne took my place, repeating my performance with swift powerful thrusts and an expression of exquisite intensity on her face. Then it was my turn again, quickly reaching yet another orgasm, if anything even more powerful than the one a few minutes before.

Our efforts were successful: Dragon finally came, Lyanne using her hands to jerk him off while I knelt still quivering from the aftershocks. He sprayed a huge quantity of hot sticky cum over my face, and Lyanne's too, accompanied by a vast cry, a wail of such intensity that thought he was going to pass out there and then.

I remember nothing after that explosive orgasm. I think I must have collapsed with exhaustion, too worn out even to lick up my portion of the delightful cream bath I had just received.


Volume 10 – Light and Dark

Part 1

I awoke with sunlight in my eyes and the smell of clean sheets in my nostrils. I was lying on a large futon, on my own, naked and curled into the comfortable semi-fetal position I usually adopt when sleeping alone. I was covered by a thin white duvet - I am always warm in bed and rarely need much insulation - which emitted the comforting aroma of well-washed cotton. All this was presumably arranged for my benefit by the PA after I had collapsed exhausted by my exertions last night.

I lay blinking in the daylight for a few moments, taking stock of my situation and remembering, with increasing appreciation, last night's sexual antics. I touched myself on the lips, between my breasts and ran a finger over the lips of my vagina, reliving exactly how I had been quite literally fucked senseless by Dragon and Lyanne.

I was not in the least sore or sticky, of course, having been thoroughly cleaned up by the PA while I was asleep - the water showers that I prefer to take are more for the pleasurable sensations than essential for cleanliness.

I sat up, allowing the coverlet to fall to my lap. Still half-asleep and slightly mussy-headed, I dozily appreciated for a few seconds the contrast between the darkness of my nipples and the dark leathery skin around my middle against the pure white bedspread.

I shook my head to clear it and looked about me. There was no-one around; presumably the house's other occupants were still asleep, or at least engaged in activities which were not making their presence obvious. The futon I had slept on was set to one side of the living area, tucked into an area where the ceiling came almost down to head-height, a location presumably selected by the PA to give me a sense of comfort and security.


Throwing off the coverlet, I stood up and wandered around to take a closer look at Dragon's residence. I could now see that Dragon's house was on at least two levels, the lower area which contained the dark dungeon we had experienced last night and this area where I had slept.

This upper floor was split into a surprising number of sublevels, joined by steps, sloping floors and even short spiral staircases. These were all approximately at ground level, with soaring white pillars supporting a high ceiling. The walls were uniformly white and decorated with numerous monumental paintings, most executed in bold styles with bright, even garish colorings.

Large windows spanning floor to ceiling let in masses of natural daylight, allowing one to appreciate the sunrise - although that event had occurred several hours before, I judged. The light wood floors were dotted with rugs, couches and pedestals supporting massive carvings, installations and artworks too numerous to mention.

This was clearly the home of a serious, or at least wealthy, art collector, and it was all such a contrast to the dark dungeon below. Dragon, it seemed, was a man of many passions and tastes.

"Good morning."

Dragon's deep voice made me jump slightly. He had emerged from a doorway leading to a room off the main living area - some kind of study or workroom, I assumed.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked solicitously.

He was once again wearing a Kimono, this one all in white with silver-grey dragons embroidered on the sleeves. He looked unruffled and suave, presumably having received the attentions of the automation earlier.

Lyanne arrived through another door, delightfully naked - as I was - and still stretching, also looking as if she had slept well. He had that "dragged-though-a-hedge-backwards" hairstyle typical of one who has been very thoroughly fucked the previous night.

"I feel great," I said in reply to Dragon's question. Actually, I had slept very well - the deep sleep of the physically exhausted and profoundly sexually satisfied. Now,


I felt wide awake, bursting with energy. I wanted to run, jump, turn somersaults, anything but stand around.

It seemed that Dragon and Lyanne felt the same; Brandon swiftly slid open the glass door to the decking outside, letting in the fresh smell of the morning. Outside, an expanse of clipped green lawns spread out ahead of us, with a couple of visible paths that appeared to lead down to a swimming pool and spa area. The whole space was bounded with hedges and trees giving a degree of notional privacy which was unusual in my experience. Once again, I realized just how wealthy Dragon must be.

"Let's go swim!" Lyanne squealed, suddenly child-like in her enthusiasm.

She ran down the lawns, naked and barefoot, and plunged into the pool with a splash and a lot more shrieking. Laughing, Dragon and I followed more sedately, following the steps that edged the lawn, the stones already warming in the sunshine.

Part 2

By the time we had arrived on the paving around the pool, Lyanne had already completed a couple of lengths at a fast swimmer's crawl that she looked to be able to keep up all day. Seeing us strolling up, she stopped her swim and rested her elbows on the tiled edge.

"You coming in?" she asked, looking from Dragon to me and back again.

Dragon shook his head, smiling, and sat himself on one of the sun-loungers that dotted the patio.

"I'll join you," I replied, grinning playfully at Lyanne, "Although I don't swim very well."

I scampered towards a series of wide steps that led down into the water, with Lyanne splashing water at me and shrieking "Come on in!" I reached the bottom step, the water coming up to my waist. It was cool and refreshing against the soft skin of my upper thighs and ass - I had hardly noticed the temperature on the thick leathery skin that covers most of my legs.

Lyanne streaked through the pool towards me, splashing more water at me and making me squeak as the cold


droplets struck my breasts. My nipples hardened with the chilly water, or perhaps it was the prospect of another sexy encounter with the sexy little slut swimming towards me. Lyanne stood up in the shallow end next to me, pool water running from her hair and dripping from her face, and kissed me libidinously on the lips.

"Good morning," I said wryly, disengaging after thirty seconds of passionate tonguing.

"Hmmm, you look cold," Lyanne replied playfully, "Perhaps I should warm you up?"

I nodded in response, although I did not really feel cold at all, of course. She kissed me again, holding my butt with both hands under the water's surface and pressing her breasts against mine. I arched my back slightly, trying to slide my nipples upwards to rub them over hers. She started slightly as my hard left teat flicked her right one. She moaned and stepped slightly to one side, bending to suckle on that very nipple. I cupped both her small but delightfully pert breasts in my hands, stimulating her with finger and thumb.

We two girls stood in the pool, alternately sucking, licking and fondling each other's upper bodies. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Brandon watching us closely, and I thought I caught a movement under the voluminous folds of the white Kimono he still wore. But my attention was soon dragged back to Lyanne’s attentions, now licking and fingering the lips between my breasts. I could sense she wanted more, soon, and I was not surprised when she took my hand from her breast and guided me back up the pool steps.

By now, the sun was quite hot. Lyanne and I toweled each other down, using fluffy blue-and-white striped towels provided by the PA while our attention was elsewhere. I gently pressed Lyanne backwards and down onto another towel-covered sun-lounger. As she lay back, I picked up a small bottle of massage oil - again, the automation inferring perfectly our desires - and began to rub a few splashes into her breasts.

She moaned again, clearly enjoying the sensations on her chest, but soon guided my oily fingers down her belly, towards her already spreading legs. I never need further


encouragement under these circumstances. I immediately began delicately rubbing oil onto her vagina lips and clit, feeling her writhe slightly as the oils warmed by my fingers infused the delicate folds of flesh. Her movements became more vigorous as I slipped a fingertip into her opening - already moist with excitement - then her whole body tensed as I began finger-fucking her.

All the while watched by Dragon from the other sun-lounger, I proceeded to finger Lyanne's cunt and ass simultaneously, dripping more oil onto my hands to lubricate the simultaneous movements. I could feel Lyanne's powerful internal muscles begin to twitch, then spasm more strongly as she came around my fingers, crying, "Yes! Oh, yes" time after time.

The audience was thoroughly appreciative of our efforts, and we were beckoned over by Dragon, who flipped aside his Kimono. He was already hard, his massive penis erect and visibly throbbing with excitement. Both Lyanne and I fucked him, one after the other, both evidently wanting to feel that huge dick deep inside. I knelt to one side as Lyanne sat astride him on the sun-lounger, bouncing up and down on his cock while rubbing her own clit, making energetic circular motions with all four fingers. I watched Brandon's dick sliding between her oiled lips while I helped Lyanne make it again, whispering encouragements into her ear, as well as oiling my own clit and cunt.

She came for a second time, crying out again and again, and then it was my turn. There is something so very good about a naturally large penis penetrating deep inside me. Oh, I really like big dildos, both the old-fashioned passive plastic kind and those infused with pervasive automation, and fingers and fists too have their place in my heart and all of my openings. But there is something irredeemably special about a natural cock, changing its size and shape as it moves inside me. With these thoughts running through my head, I came hard and long, unable to contain either my cries or my climaxing spasms.

After the floor show around the pool earlier, not to mention being energetically fucked by us both, it was not surprising that a pair of horny girls were able to make Dragon come quickly and hard. We knelt together on one


side of the lounger and we alternately ass-fingered him and wanked him off, our fingers still lubricated by a mixture of massage oil and cunt juices. Sensing him close to orgasm, Lyanne and I moved cheek-to-cheek, our mouths open, each using one hand to rub his twitching manhood, finally coaxing from him an immensely satisfying explosion of cum that covered both her face and mine.

I licked by lips and swallowed the few drops of semen which had made it into my mouth. I then licked the cum from Lyanne's chin and forehead, consuming that too before kissing her full on the lips. On a whim, I playfully licked Dragon’s cum from inside Lyanne's mouth, taking it into my own - Lyanne seemed happy to let me have the lion's share on this occasion. Brandon lay back, clearly spent for the moment, but equally obviously enjoying the sight of us girls sharing his taste.

After a few moments of all three of us basking in the twin glows of morning sunshine and post-coitus ecstasy, we moved over to the bathing house which adjoined the pool area. Together we showered off the oils, soaping and rinsing each other languorously before stepping out to stand under the flash dryer for a few moments, which left my skin smooth and dry.

"Well girls," Dragon said, still grinning as he picked up his Kimono and deftly slipped it over his shoulders, "Anyone for a bite to eat?"

Lyanne declined the offer of breakfast, declaring that she was too sated with sex to be interested in mere food. Personally, I find the opposite is true: energetic sex makes me ravenously hungry and I eagerly anticipated the arrival of nourishment.

Lyanne reached up and unfastened the collar which still encircled her neck, and handed it to Dragon. He nodded formally to her in response. She then turned to me.

"Have you been here before?" she asked.

"No," I admitted.

She nodded slowly, smiling as she turned to leave.

"You'll be coming here again," she predicted, "You're very, very good."


Part 3

After Lyanne had left, Dragon invited me to join him on the decking in front of the house. We sat at a small table in the warm sunshine, overlooking the grounds and the pool, and shaded by strategically placed canopies. Dragon commanded some breakfast, delivered instantaneously to the table by the automation: for me, a large beaker of the hot meaty broth that I enjoy so much and a plate of the high-protein, low-carbohydrate foodstuffs my metabolism demands.

Brandon sipped his drink - coffee, I think, how retro! - then sat in companionable silence for a few moments while I took the edge off my appetite. Finally, he set down his cup and turned to me with a serious expression on his face.

"I have to admit I've got you here under false pretenses," he began.

"What, you mean you didn't want me to fuck Lyanne on your behalf?" I asked quizzically.

He laughed aloud, looking at me appreciatively and perhaps with just a tinge of relief.

"Well, that was partially the point, of course," he replied, "But there's also a pickup and delivery job I'd like you to do for me."

It was my turn to laugh.

"It's not the first time I've offered that kind of service, you know?"

He nodded.

"I do know," he replied, "But this one's a little bit different."

"So where's the pickup?" I asked.

"Aren’t you curious?" he countered, "Don't you want to know what the item is?"

"I never ask," I replied, shrugging "I can't see that anyone would ever want to tell me."

"Well," he said slowly, "In this case, I think you really do have to know."


Well, there's a first, I thought, amused: someone who's going to tell me what's going on.

Dragon nibbled on a croissant, perhaps wondering where to begin. Coming, perhaps, to some kind of conclusion he began to talk about his past - a past before I was even born.

As I understood it, Brandon O'Reilly was an investor, one who used his wealth - mostly acquired hundreds of years ago, when things still changed quickly - to fund new business ideas, new ventures. He was, in short, an entrepreneur - and indeed, still was, in a limited kind of way. This is of itself unusual, given the stasis of society deliberately introduced, as I understand the histories, to allow human beings to live forever on this little planet of ours.

"That's when I picked up the nickname, Dragon," he continued, "An aggressive and - I'd like to think - astute investor in other people's businesses. Or, at least, a lucky one."

He paused, looking out over the lawns with a distant expression on his face.

"So, one of the more risky investments I put money into, in the early days, was what was then still called Nanotechnology" - I had not heard the word before - "The early successes in medicine and computer systems" - another unfamiliar term - "made me a lot of money. Against the advice of my peers, I ploughed much of my wealth back into the businesses - the research and development, the facilities and equipment - which, much to their chagrin, showed a considerable profit and made me even wealthier."

"My last investment was in the - not just self-replicating, but self-evolving - Nanotechnology: the final step in the production of the Pervasive Automation which now surrounds us all, and culminating in the creation of the society in which we now live."

Dragon gestured vaguely with his coffee cup, looking out over the verdant scenery.

"You have to remember, at the time where I grew up, our everyday life would have seemed nothing less than miraculous. The vision, and now the reality: automatic policing, the provision of basic needs for all, the maintenance of buildings and landscapes, and the creation of an un-


ageing population - with enforced medical services and birth control. All this was put in place by organizations in which I held an equity interest.”

He returned the cup to the table and his attention to me.

"As a private investor in this immense project, I managed to amass a vast fortune. Now I am still a rich man, although this means less and less these days, but one of the advantages of wealth, in the early days of our new world, was that it was possible to buy privileges not available to many."

"What kind of privileges?" I wondered.

"A long time ago," he replied, "When - a few - people could still do such things, I fathered two children."

I was fascinated with the racy idea of procreation, of giving birth. I was vaguely aware that this was the original purpose of sex, but I had never before met anyone who had admitted to carrying out this rare process - well, except Mom, of course.

"Really!" I breathed excitedly, "So who are your kids?"

Dragon let out an explosive breath.

"Well," he began, "One of them is you."

It took me quite some time to get over the shock. I was not sure how to react, what I should feel, even whether there should be any kind of emotion at all. Sure, I get on well with Mom - she's a friend and confidante, and we like each other - but I'm convinced I would feel the same way if there were none of those old-fashioned biological relationships between us. I decided I would just have to defer judgment on my relationship - if any - with Dragon.

"Well, OK," I said finally, attempting to recover my composure, "All very interesting. But what has this to do with the delivery job?"

"The package," the Dragon said slowly, "Is your sister."


Volume 11 – East of Eden

Part 1

"Well, actually your half-sister," Dragon continued calmly. "Her name is Selene."

Once again, I was completely taken aback. So many astonishing things were happening all at once: newly-discovered relations coming at me from every side and then some kind of delivery job on offer which I completely failed to comprehend. I felt completely overwhelmed.

Brandon clearly recognized my reactions and reached over the breakfast table to put his hand on mine reassuringly.

"I know I'm dumping a lot on you all at once," he said soothingly, "But, trust me, it's better this way - to give you the whole picture as a sketch and then help you fill in the details. It'll take time, so bear with me, please."

"What happened between you and Mom?" I blurted, striking out for metaphorical solid ground.

"Oh, the usual," he replied, "Two people trying to get along with each other because they feel they must. Eventually it all reaches breaking-point. At least your mother had the good sense to dump me as soon as she was able to - she always was a strong-minded and self-determined individual. In any case, a lot of what you are is down to your Mom, not me. It was she who made the suggestions about your modifications, and it was she who raised you on her own - and a damn fine job she's made of it too."

He smiled proudly at me.

"All-in-all, a particularly well-balanced individual, I would say," he continued, leering appreciatively, "As well as an astonishingly sexy one."


I stuck out my tongue at him, and he blew me a kiss in response.

"As you know, I am still friends - and occasional sex partners - with your Mom, although I don't get to see her as often as I'd like," adding with a shrug of the shoulders, "So many other distractions and drains on my time."

I had recognized at the party that there was considerable warmth between Mom and Dragon, that they genuinely enjoyed each others company in public, and very probably less public ways, too.

"I wish it was the same with Selene's mother," Brandon continued sadly, "Marianne, her name was."

Dragon paused for a long moment, twirling his coffee cup and evidently caught up in some deep introspection.

"I met Marianne a long time after your Mom," he continued, shaking his head as if to dislodge a particularly painful memory, "We had a wild and deeply emotional relationship for several years. When it became clear that I might be allowed to father another child, I was natural that I asked Marianne to be the mother."

"How did you get permission to become a parent?" I asked, still fascinated with the whole process.

"Well, it’s a long and complex procedure," Dragon replied, "And takes a great deal of money. In another age, this process would have been called bribery, but I prefer to think of it as payments for services rendered."

"OK," I said, still puzzled, but decided I was not going to get much further on this right now.

"Anyway," Dragon continued, "When Marianne became pregnant with Selene, she had a huge change of heart for some reason. To this day, I don't know what caused it. Perhaps it was something from her own childhood that reared its head, some ingrained notion about the way in which children should be brought up, and perhaps some repressed fear of the Pervasive Automation."

I shook my head in wonderment. How could anyone be worried by the PA? It always did everything you expected, and usually before you had fully formed the thought in your head.


"Marianne got to be increasingly eccentric," Brandon explained, "Firstly, she insisted that we had a girl - fine by me, of course. Then she declined any non-essential genetic tinkering in the womb. Again, I wasn't too bothered about that - a Norm daughter - and a second child! - was more than I could have hoped for."

He paused, again sipping his cooling coffee.

"Finally, she upped and left for a commune before Selene was born, a religious enclave known as Eden, and I never saw her again. I've never seen my other daughter in the flesh - just a few pictures and letters - and I've never been allowed to visit."

"Why not?" I asked, astonished, "People can go anywhere they want, surely."

"Well, no," he replied, "Eden is a designated NNZ."

"What do you mean, an NNZ?" I asked, struggling with the unfamiliar terminology he was now using.

"A No Nanotechnology Zone," he replied then, seeing my confusion, expanded on his explanation.

"When the Pervasive Automation - back then called Nanotechnology - was invented, a great many people were nervous that it might somehow be dangerous. So, it was first introduced in strictly limited regions, and the geographical area in which the PA is allowed to work is firmly wired into its basic technology and simply can't be changed by self-modification."

"As the advantages became apparent, and most people were won over, these areas grew and spread and joined up. Even so, there remain to this day groups of people who are still suspicious or afraid of the automation, or maintain moral beliefs that declare the automation somehow unacceptable - 'evil', in the jargon. In these enclaves, there is simply no PA."

Dragon took a deep breath.

"So, since there's no automation, people can make up their own rules of behavior. They can hurt each other and, since there's no pervasive medicine, people really do die there."


I gasped in horror, my mouth open involuntarily in shock.

"Marianne moved there forty years ago," Dragon continued sadly, "She expired - from what was once bizarrely known as 'natural causes' - nearly a decade ago. Died from old age. Quite unnecessarily."

I was speechless, flabbergasted. The notion that someone - anyone - could die was incomprehensible.

"Selene managed to smuggle a message out," Brandon continued, "Perhaps the death of her mother brought things home to her. Now, she wants to get away from the commune."

"So what am I supposed to do?" I asked.

"Go in to Eden, as a visitor - to see your sister," he said bluntly, "Smuggle in some PA - I'll provide the goods, and the automation will be programmed to help you. And bring her out."

"Why don't you go yourself?" I demanded

"I simply wouldn't be permitted to enter," he replied sadly, "I know, I've asked repeatedly, and they've always said no. I guess my commitment to our society - and my actions in bringing it about through my investments in Pervasive Automation - are too well-known to be acceptable."

"But they'll let me in?" I asked.

Dragon shrugged.

"You have a legitimate claim for entry - she is your sister, after all. And you were born into a world already saturated with automation - so they can't blame that on you."

Part 2

I sat and thought for a long moment.

"OK, well, I'm willing to give it a try," I replied finally, "I assume that this PA you mentioned been fixed somehow to ignore the NNZ ban?"

"Yes," Dragon said slowly, "I did the work myself."

I looked at him very directly and raised an eyebrow.


"Well, since I made my money from nanotechnology, and then I had time on my hands, I thought I would find out more about it. It's taken decades of effort, firstly to work out what had to be done, and then building an environment where I could undertake it without being discovered."

"What do you mean?" I demanded.

"I had to work in secret, if you remember what the word means," he replied, "This house, and the grounds immediately around it, are infested with a subtly changed variant of the standard automation - one which limits certain information flows, and allows me to build further and more sophisticated PA versions undetected."

"Aren't they suspicious?" I wanted to know.

"Of course," he replied, looking smug, "And my automation is constructed to just fail to conceal the presence of my dungeon, so that anyone who investigates believes that it is my quaintly old-fashioned little peccadilloes that I'm attempting to hide."

I laughed at the ingenuity of the tactic.

"How am I going to get this illicit automation into this Commune, then?" I asked.

Dragon put his hand in a pocket of the Kimono he wore and extracted something which he held out on his hand. Sitting on his palm was a curious metallic sphere, engraved with complex patterns and inlaid in pink and cream. It looked very familiar, very much like the original container for the anonymous package I had delivered to Jackie Yakamoto a few days earlier - the one the Dollface in the Starbucks had been concealing in her vagina.

"Oh, I know just where that's supposed to go," I said, highly amused, "But you really think they'll not look there?"

"Oh, they're sure to do so," he replied laconically, "But I know that your internal organs are not arranged as other women."

I grinned back at him. It was quite true. I have a lot more space, more length and accommodation inside me than almost anyone I've met. In the past, this has made me very popular with certain well-endowed men, not to mention several other male Kinds, especially Satyrs.


"So you'll be able to get it right inside you, so far up that it won't be discovered, even by," he paused, "Shall we say, the most intimate physical inspection."

I nodded, a clearer understanding growing in my head. Dragon sat back in his chair, again toying with his coffee cup.

"Besides," he added, smirking at me, "I've had an excellent opportunity to check it out myself."

"So how am I going to get the Automation in there? Are you planning on slipping it in yourself?" I asked, grinning lavishly and thinking again of Johnny's Dollface, not to mention Dragon's delightfully oversized dick.

"Well, no. This one's a replica," Dragon replied slowly, "Lyanne put the real thing inside you when she was fucking you last night."

Part 3

I stared at him for a long moment, then burst out laughing.

"You seem pretty sure of yourself," I said.

"Oh, I am," Dragon countered, grinning widely, "Remember, I have direct access to the kind of behavioral modeling the PA undertakes on a routine basis, and so it's easy to predict anyone's reaction with a fair degree of precision."

"Well, I'm not going to disappoint you," I replied, "It sounds like a real adventure."

My answer had not been in doubt for quite some minutes now. I was in truth keen to rescue my sister - like some adventure story from olden times - and I fully confess to having been highly intrigued.

"Great!" Dragon enthused, "Now there are some preparations - some further preparations, I should say - that you need to undertake."

"OK," I replied cautiously, "What kind of things?"

"For a start, we need to get you properly dressed."


I was confused and it must have shown on my face - or perhaps the automation was feeding an analysis of my reactions direct to Dragon in a way I could not detect.

"The people in Eden," Dragon continued, "Have rather quaint and old-fashioned ideas about a number of things - many of them centered on sex. Public nudity is prohibited, and even displaying skin other than face and hands is frowned on."

"So I'm going to have to wear a costume?" I asked.

"Well, yes, if you like," he replied, "But you should bear in mind that they will regard this as normal everyday dress."

Dragon put down his coffee cup and stood up suddenly.

"Come inside with me," he said, "Time is of the essence."

I followed him back into the living area of the house, where a large pile of black and white cloth had materialized on one of the couches. He picked up some large item of white cloth and held it out to me.

"This is the approved underwear," he explained.

I took the proffered item and slipped it on, then turned to look at myself in a mirror instantaneously provided by the automation. I confess I laughed aloud. The shapeless knickers covered me from waist to mid-thigh - concealing more bare flesh than the short skirts I normally wore.

Under Dragon's guidance, I struggled into the remaining clothes: a voluminous white blouse with long sleeves, a heavy black skirt that hung nearly to the ground, a jacket of the same material and a headscarf. Dragon helped me tie the scarf under my chin.

"There," he said approvingly, "You look like a proper goodwife now."

At first, the garments felt like some kind of fancy dress, but I found myself becoming gloomy and depressing as I put them on. They were so cumbersome, so heavy and restrictive and above all, so un-sexy. I took one last look in the mirror - I hardly recognized myself - then turned to Dragon.

"What next?" I asked.


"I'll take you to the compound," Dragon replied, "In my car."

We traveled together for about an hour. Dragon explained that the Eden commune was a carefully-constructed Primitive society, technologically stuck somewhere in the later part of the Twentieth Century, although with a moralistic culture from some much earlier point in history. About ten thousand people lived inside the NNZ, tilling the land and growing their own food, and breeding children, a process involving something called 'marriage' which I did not quite understand. These people lived and worked for perhaps sixty years - I was already many times that age - policing their own lives and business according to some loosely defined set of rules called the Commandments.

After the briefing, we said companionably for a while, Dragon in his loose-fitting Kimono and me in the scratchily uncomfortable cover-all clothes he had foisted on me. Eventually, the limo came to a halt in a quiet wooded area, and the car door swung open silently. I moved to get out, but Dragon took me by the arm.

"Take care," he said earnestly, "People can get really hurt - even killed - in there."

With that chilling thought, I exited the car. The door closed softly behind me, and the car turned around and quickly accelerated away in the direction from which we had just come.

Part 4

I looked around. I was standing on a well-maintained roadway which widened at just this spot into a large circle, presumably to allow wheeled vehicles to turn around easily. Tall trees stood motionlessly on either side, and I could hear nothing except for the faint calls of birdsong and occasional rustles of wildlife.

Opposite the roadway was a track, narrower than the road and paved with broken stones in stark contrast to the smooth tarmac I was currently standing on. It was the obvious way to go, and I moved towards the start of the path. As I did so, a sign appeared in mid-air, flashing


furiously in the familiar way of the automation determined to attract your attention.

"Warning: no pervasive automation beyond this point!"

Simultaneously, these same words were spoken aloud directly into my ears. This warning was followed by further messages explaining in detail exactly what this meant, and the risks and hazards I was exposing myself to by proceeding.

I ignored the warnings, although they did nothing to lift my mood. Already perspiring, I trudged along the path with the sun on my back, hampered by the heavy clothing, and with my high-heeled feet occasionally slipping on the uneven surface. After several hundred meters or so, I came across a sign - an old-fashioned fixed board - which announced "Eden Commune" in worn paint. No welcome, no warnings even, just a flat statement. Presumably no-one came here who did not know what to expect.

Trees and heavy undergrowth grew on either side of the track which curved this way and that, making it difficult to see very far. I rounded a bend. Ahead, the woodland was cleared for fifty meters in front of a stout wooden fence which looked to be as twice as high as my head. The fence was surmounted in places by lookout towers and I could see figures moving in them. One spotted me approaching and shouted down to an unseen colleague, although I was too far away to make out the exact words.

The gravel path led directly to a pair of heavy wooden gates, evidently firmed closed and blocking the way. I walked up to the gates and stopped, wondering what to do. Perhaps I should knock politely, although I doubted I would be able to make myself heard through the thick planks. Suddenly a hatch at head height slid open with a crash and a bearded face appeared in the opening.

"What do you want?" he asked brusquely.

"I'm Tania," I replied simply, "I'm here to see my sister Selene."

The bearded man consulted something written on a sheaf of papers clipped to some kind of board. He grunted something that sounded disappointed to find my name listed, then shouted to someone to open the gates. One of the


doors opened slowly on old-fashioned hinges which gave the impression that they were not very frequently opened. As soon as the gap was wide enough, I slipped through; there was another shout and the gates closed with a bang behind me.

There were six or seven people clustered around me. All were men, and all wore beards. They were dressed alike in lack jacket and trousers, with a white shirt buttoned to the neck and round black hats with wide brims.

The man with the clipboard, who was clearly in charge, looked me up and down. So much of me was covered up that it must have been impossible to tell that I was anything other than a Norm female, although he did look disapprovingly at what I suspect he imagined were ordinary high-heeled shoes.

"So, you're our latest visitor from Sodom," he said, "Here to marvel at God's land of Eden?"

I was confused, so I followed the advice that Dragon had given me in the car - when in doubt, repeat your request, politely and in simple language.

"I'm here to see my sister Selene."

"So you said, so you said. Jem and Jacob will act as your escort," the leader said, indicating a younger man whose facial hair owed more to willpower than hirsuteness, and an elder whose neatly-clipped beard was streaked with grey. I thanked him profusely, then set off with the two stolid men, one walking in front of me and the other directly behind.

As we walked, I took the opportunity to have a good look around. Apart from a small cluster of low buildings by the gate, all dark wood and grey fieldstone, fields of various crops lay in every direction as far as I could see. Trees marched in neat rows following the lines of the hedges or were bunched into little copses in odd corners. Men and women, and smaller persons I eventually realized must be children, were working in the fields, stooped over the corn or hoeing the rows of vegetables.

Our oddly-assorted little group trudged along the road towards a large group of buildings. A horse-drawn cart was coming the other way and we stepped aside to let it pass. I had seen such animals before, of course, mighty beasts that


were cosseted by equestrian collectors, but this one looked worn as if by many years of hard labor. The cart itself was laden with a foul-smelling substance that I eventually realized was animal shit mixed with straw - a wagon-load of manure to fertilize the fields.

Following Jem, I walked through the little town unconsciously attracting a great deal of undesired attention from the passers-by. Men dressed like those at the gates glared wordlessly at me, while women dressed as I was shielded their children as if I was some kind of untamed beast, likely to rip them limb from limb in an instant.

Jacob indicated a larger building with steps leading up to an imposing front door.

"You have an interview with the Reverend," he said, "All visitors must be inspected and approved by him."

"The Reverend is a blessed Methuselah, a miracle from God," Jem added with awe in his voice, "He has lived amongst us for two hundred years and more, without the sins of your godless nanotechnology."

I was unsure what response was expected from me here. My natural mischievousness got the better of me, and I asked him, "Do you expect to live as long?"

"Oh no," he replied earnestly, "I am far too sinful, I am sure."

Before I could question Jem further, Jacob shushed us both, then removed his hat and walked up the stone staircase. Jem and I followed meekly, Jem too removing his headgear and toying with it nervously.

We entered the building and stood inside a high vaulted hall with an echoing polished stone floor. We marched nearly the full length of the hall, the men's boots and my heels clattering loudly on the marble tiles. All eyes followed us, and it seemed I was again the center of attention for some reason. I held my chin high and looked neither to right nor left.

Jacob stopped and knocked on a door marked with a large brass plate which read: "The Very Reverend James W. Buxton".

A voice sounded from within: "Come!"


We entered, the door swinging open silently. A old man with a grey beard sat behind a large desk of polished wood, caught in the act of handing a sheaf of papers to an underling who took one look at our party and scurried out.

With a start, I realized that I recognized the man at the desk - his was the face I had seen peering from the bushes sat the picnic spot, watching Kim the Andie being fucked hard by her friends in the clearing by the lake.

Part 5

I froze in the doorway, hoping that my reaction did not show. Surely I must be mistaken? The revered leader of this closed community, this miraculous figure, caught wanking in the bushes? I was at a loss; just what was going on I could not determine.

The Reverend stood up and stalked around the desk, beckoning me forward with a pre-emptive wave of his hand. I approached the desk slowly, followed by Jem and Jacob at a respectful distance. He walked around me as if he was inspecting a prize specimen.

"So you are Goodwife Selene's sister, are you?" he said softly.

"I am, sir," I replied, carefully following the form of address Dragon had recommended to me.

"And you look so very young," he continued, almost to himself, "Barely more than a child yourself, are you not?"

"I am a little older than I look, sir," I replied, presenting a half-truth again suggested by Dragon.

"Hah! No doubt that Spawn of the Devil's loins, the handiwork of Lucifer himself," the Reverend almost spat, "That foul nanotechnology has had a hand in your appearance!"

"I'm told so, sir," I returned, looking at the floor with pretended embarrassment.

The Reverend abruptly turned to the two men who had accompanied me from the gate.

"Leave us!" he commanded.


The two men did as they were instructed with alacrity, although I did detect a glance, perhaps even a smirk, that passed between them as they closed the door behind them.

"Strip!" the Reverend instructed.

I hastened to comply, slipping out of the heavy and confining jacket and skirt almost with a sense of relief. Under other circumstances, I would have been eager with anticipation. The firm command and the evident urgent need of another person is something that can generally be relied upon to immediately excite me. Here, tinged with an indefinable overtone of threat which I was not familiar with, I felt an unaccustomed nervousness about a sexual encounter - something I had not experienced in a very long time.

Reluctantly, I slipped off the vast knickers that covered me from waist to mid-thigh, then started to unbutton the white blouse. I let the shirt fall to the floor and stood naked, ankles demurely together, while the Reverend again walked around and around me, studying me from every side. He made a close inspection of my arms and legs and feet, his fingers exploring the boundary between the band of tough leathery skin below my breasts and above my waist, and the softer and more sensitive skin to either side. He briefly fingered the unconventional opening between my tits, and twisting my nipples cruelly just once, perhaps just to see if they were real.

He put his hands on my shoulders and made me kneel in front of him, opening a slit in the front of his clothes and bringing out his dick, already stiffening with excitement. Without warning he suddenly forced his cock in my mouth. I struggled to oblige him, not because his dick was particularly large or impressive, but because he seemed to have no desire or concern over my wellbeing or enjoyment of the encounter. I gagged, something I can normally control without difficultly, but he did not relax the pressure nor cease his urgent thrusting at my discomfort.

After a few moments, presumably enough to make him as large and hard as he was going to get, he raised me up and brutally bent me forward over his desk. He held me down with one hand around my desk while roughly fingering me in the ass and cunt alternately.


"Such a slut, wanting this, a wanton hussy," he growled in my ear, "But I have a way towards absolution for harlots like you, a way to take away the sin - at least for a moment."

So saying, he plunged his penis into me, fucking me hard for a few seconds before spurting his seed inside me.

It was now abundantly clear to me that the Reverend was essentially a hypocrite, engaging in casual and exploitive sex with all penitents and visitors - and presumably anyone else he could persuade - on the pretext of checking them over, inspecting them for physical or moral damage, while publicly preaching the virtues of abstinence and marital fidelity.

And his apparently miraculous longevity? Probably that was equally hypocritical. He had access to the automation - the nanotechnology, as he called it - in the world outside, the real world. He somehow managed to leave the supposedly secured area that was the Eden Commune, presumably without being observed, which was how I had come to glimpse him masturbating in the bushes at the lakeside retreat.

It was all over soon enough. Of course he enjoyed it - I could see that plainly in his face - but, for the first time ever, I felt used, dirty and mistreated after sex.


Volume 12 – Never Look Back

Part 1

"Get dressed and get out," he instructed me brusquely, hastily stuffing his flaccid cock back inside his trousers, "Your Kind disgusts me."

I hastened to comply, grabbing my blouse from where I had dropped it and slipping my arms into the sleeves. I found the vast and unflattering knickers, stepping into them hurriedly as if they would offer me some kind of protection. The skirt and jacket followed, and I fumbled with the unfamiliar buttons and fastenings. While I dressed, the Reverend returned behind his desk, and sat in the leather swivel chair, appearing to ignore me completely and giving his entire attention to the books and papers on the desktop.

I was still adjusting my blouse and skirt as I opened the door to leave. The same two bearded men were waiting outside for me.

"So the Reverend has finished with you - and so quickly, too," the younger one said, not even attempting to keep the smirk from his face, "And did he give you absolution?"

I bowed my head, not trusting myself to speak at that moment.

"Follow me," the older one instructed, and we marched back along the same polished marble corridor, down the stone steps and outside to the street.

"This way," Jacob said, pointing down the road away from the direction from which we had approached.

As we walked, Jem took great pride in pointing out the features and facilities on either side - here, a church with towering spires and arched windows, there a mission and workhouse for the poor and needy. I felt I was getting a guided tour of the complex - I could not bring myself to think of it as a town - as if it was something I would want to buy.


We arrived at what the older man took pleasure in describing as a "guest lodge". It was a heavily built building of stone blocks with tiny iron-barred windows. Jacob guided me inside, indicating a room I should use. I could not help but notice that the building was guarded and each room had a heavy wooden door with a lock which could only be operated from the outside. I racked my brains for a moment, struggling to remember the correct word - ah, yes, it was a prison.

"Ten minutes," he said brusquely.

I sat on the hard and uncomfortable bed, looking at bowl and jug of cold water, and a meager and scratchy towel that had been provided. I washed myself as best I could, removing the stain of the Reverend's seed from between my legs. I adjusted my dress and reached to open the door, half-expecting it to be bolted from the outside, but it swung aside easily enough.

Jem and Jacob had been talking to the guards near the entrance, and turned when they heard my room door open. I approached, eyes downcast demurely.

"So now you will visit your sister," Jacob said portentously, "Come this way."

I bit my tongue, a retort unspoken in my throat.

It was another ten minute walk to the house where I would meet Selene. She lived in one of a row of seemingly identical establishments, each two stories high. I took care to note the number of the house by counting as we walked by. Low wooden fences at the rear enclosed plots of land which seemed to be intensively cultivated - by the backbreaking effort of actual people, no less - and grew a variety of plants which I assumed must be foodstuffs.

There was a covered wooden veranda or sidewalk in front of each building, which creaked alarmingly underfoot as I crossed. Jem knocked on the door, which was opened by the oldest-looking woman I had ever seen. Her face was a mass of wrinkles framed by a close-fitting cap of stiff white fabric. Surely, I thought, this cannot be my sister.

"Sister Mary, good day to you," Jacob addressed the crone in a surprisingly loud voice, "Is Goodwife Selene at home?"


"She is, sir," the old woman answered, bobbing down in a curious way that I finally realized must be some kind of polite gesture.

The crone led me to old-fashioned sitting room - a parlor - at the front of the house. Another woman sat in an easy chair there - a woman who had been exceptionally beautiful once, and even now exuded a certain powerful attraction. She was dressed, as I was, in unrelieved black and white, and her hair, what of it I could see under her linen cap, was a fine blonde color, although a little washed out and streaked with grey.

"Hello, Tania," the younger woman said, standing and crossing the room to take both my hands in hers, "I'm Selene."

Part 2

I could barely breathe, and I felt sure that my mouth must be hanging open. This woman, my sister, or at least half-sister, looked so old. Not as old as the crone who had answered the door, true, but wrinkled and bent enough that I would have thought her infected by some kind of wasting disease, if I had not been paying attention during my school history lessons so long ago.

Selene guided me unresisting into the room, and gestured at an easy chair on the other side of the unlit fireplace.

"Sit, sit," she said gently.

I sat, balanced on the edge of the chair, the folds of the unfamiliar clothing clinging uncomfortably to my legs. Selene sat too, settling herself composedly, even elegantly, into the worn leather upholstery.

The two men who had accompanied me everywhere escorted me inside. They hung around for a moment, standing uncomfortably by the window, then decided they would be better off waiting outside, perhaps not wishing to be subjected to a barrage of womanly chatter.

The old woman also followed me inside and settled herself in another chair on the far side of the room, close to the window and the door through which I had entered. She seemed to be doing something with her hands, using long thin poles and some kind of colored thread. It would not be


until much later I would understand that this was a process called "knitting", and was a way of making clothing unaided by any kind of automation.

I've looked forward to meeting you so much," Selene said earnestly, leaning forward from her own chair and speaking softly, as if wished to add a little intimacy to our conversation.

"I want to know everything about you," she added, "And about the world outside."

I glanced in the direction of the elderly woman.

"Oh, don't worry about her," Selene said lightly, with a distinct giggle in her voice, "She's very deaf - that's why I suggested her as a chaperone for this meeting."

I grinned in return. Somehow, the shared secret had broken the ice. We talked for a long time all that afternoon and into the early evening. I told her everything I could think of about myself - she gasped when she realized I was more than five times older than she was - and in return Selene spoke of her life, her family, her society. It all sounded so different, but she said nothing that I did not find hard to take at face value. By contrast, she seemed to disbelieve, or misunderstand, much of what I said about the way I lived, and I found myself shying away from topics where she might be asked to believe another impossible thing.

After an hour or so, I judged, Selene offered me tea. This is not a drink I usually take, but I did not want to cause any offense, so I accepted the offer graciously. Selene stood and went to the kitchen to make it herself, the old woman looking up sharply as soon as she stood up.

I sat and watched the crone knitting until Selene returned, carrying a tray loaded with cups and a variety of other unfamiliar implements. She asked how I liked my tea - very milky and no sugar, I decided - and poured me a cup. She also poured tea for the crone in the corner, who nodded her thanks absently. Selene also offered me some kind of baked cookies, which I declined - too heavy for my digestion - but which the old woman accepted with alacrity.

Despite the constraints of the situation and the expectations of her upbringing, I felt an instant rapport with


Selene. Under the watchful eye of the crone in the corner seat, it was impossible to touch my sister, other than that brief moment holding her hands as a greeting when I arrived. Even so, I got the strongest sensation of a sexual interest in me, a desire more a more intimate contact, somehow emanating from Selene. Perhaps it was just me, but maybe it was her increasing knowledge of the nature of the world outside, coupled wit her sexual desires, that had motivated her to contact Dragon.

Much later, Jem and Jacob re-entered the room.

"Time to go," Jacob said briskly, nodding politely to the old woman before gesturing for me to come with him. I stood hurriedly, adjusting my skirts as best I could.

"I'll be back to visit you soon," I said to Selene as I left, as reassuringly as I could, adding, "Perhaps even sooner than you think."

Part 3

I was guided back to my cell at the "guest house" by Jacob and Jem, now feeling deflated and moving slowly with my eyes firmly on the ground. I sat heavily in the hard chair - which was made, as far as I could see, entirely from pieces of tree, badly cut and assembled by hand - and leaned on the table - which was constructed in the same fashion - holding my head in my hands.

The younger guard, Jem, was left to look after me - Jacob presumably believing that it was beneath his dignity to wait on someone from my world, or perhaps he assumed that I was no threat. Shortly afterwards, a plate of food was brought for me - unfamiliar heavy starchy food that was not at all to my taste, but I did my best to consume out of politeness, although I was not particularly hungry. There was also a glass of water, which I drank.

Having finished what I could of my meal, I wondered what to do with the plate and glass. Just at that moment, Jem re-appeared, collected the remnants of my meal, wished me a gruff "good evening" and left. I heard the door close with a thump, followed by a softer click which I realized was a lock being turned.

I sat in the room - perhaps cell would have been a better description - alone with my own thoughts, wondering about


my sister and what I should do. Should I rip her away from her own world, the only one she knew, and bring her to a place where everything and everyone would be strange and different? Or was the oppression of this place, which seemed to have seeped into my very bones in the few hours I had been here, worth the risk of culture-shock?

The room gradually darkened; the sun was setting. I had nothing to do and in any case no light to do it by. No-one had thought to bring me a candle, although there might have been some kind of lighting if only I could have worked out how to switch it on. Finally, bored to tears and feeling depressed beyond measure, I undressed in the very last of the daylight - placing the clothing carefully on the chair, rather than tossing it aside for the PA to sort out - and slipped between the cold scratchy sheets of the bed. I had never felt so unsexy in my entire long life.

I knew that in order to complete my secret mission - there was something decidedly and unexpectedly romantic, in an old-fashioned kind of way, about that description - I would have to remote the capsule embedded deep, so very deep, inside me by Lyanne during that energetic sex session not so long ago. I have to be very, very excited to be that open and, right now, that was a long way from that.

I lay under the cold bedclothes and thought about that time with Leanne and Dragon. I thought about my friend Renie and her wonderfully sexy bisexual appearance. I thought about many of those fun-filled encounters at the Chromium Shaft Club. Somehow, all that - all my own world - seemed so far away; so remote, distant, almost as if I could not bring myself to believe that it was really real.

Finally, I found myself thinking about Selene, my half-sister. Although I had barely even touched her, I had detected an incredible sexual warmth coming from her. I felt as if there was practically nothing preventing her from reaching out to me, running her hands over my face and neck and breasts, and exploring with increasing urgency the openings between my breasts and between my legs.

As I was thinking these sexy thoughts, I realized I had instinctively begun to run my hands over my breasts and explore the soft opening between them. It seemed to be getting warmer in the bed - it was probably just me - and I


threw off the constraining covers and lay naked on the mattress.

I slid my hands down over my own belly and between my legs. To my surprise, but more to my entire delight, I found myself wet and open, my pussy lips already moist under my own insistent fingertips. I curved my body and curled up my legs, tucking the backs of my knees behind my arms, grateful that I was so flexible - although plenty of other people have been grateful of my flexibility, too.

I pressed the tips of my fingers and my thumb together, forming a cone. Slowly, I eased my hand inside me, while I stimulating my clit with the fingers of my other hand. I was fucking myself with my fist, my lips closed around my wrist. the pleasure was intense - and just a little pain, too - and I knew I would come soon. I suppressed my cries as best I could; I did not want the sudden attentions of my gaolers just at this precise moment.

With a final pressing effort, I could feel the precious sphere between my fingertips. It came loose as I came, my orgasm hard, my muscles rippling powerfully against my wrist. I swiftly withdrew my hand from inside me, a cry escaping my lips despite my best efforts at silence. My convulsions spurted the container and an astonishing amount of my own juices over the rumpled white sheet on which I was laying.

Success, finally - twice-fold. I felt a lot happier after that orgasm - much closer to my normal horny self - and I had got that precious container from inside me.

Part 4

I lay on the hard narrow bed panting for a few moments before I sat up. I took the little sphere in my hand and held it up, just visible in the wisps and traces of light that came in through the little barred window of my cell. Even in that light, I could make out the swirling movement of the pervasive automation all over its surface.

I had just started wondering how I was supposed to open it - this had not been part of the briefing that Dragon had given me - when all of a sudden the device split apart, one segment falling from my hand onto the bedclothes. I thought I might have seen some movement, something


emerging from its containment, although whatever it was, it was gone so swiftly that I could easily have imagined it. Then the two halves of the sphere, one on the bed and the other still nestling in my palm, disintegrated and disappeared into nothing.

"Help me," I said softly, almost only mouthing the words, "Help me take Selene away with me."

Silence, no movement or activity that I could detect. Dragon had warned me that the automation's behavior would be unpredictable at this time, as it sought to balance carrying out my wishes with its limited resources and its understanding of the world around it. After a minute or so, a sign appeared, brightly visible in the air in my direct line of vision.

"Wait one hour" the glowing yellow letters read. Then the sign suddenly flicked out.

I shrugged in the darkness. I had no option but to go along with the terse instruction. At the time, I wondered what the wait was for. Perhaps there was some action that PA needed to undertake to make itself ready or maybe it was to do with the disposition of the guards outside or something else in the surrounding area. I could not know. Impatiently, I lay down on the bed and pulled the covers back over me.

Perhaps I slept a little, or at least dozed, as it seemed only a few moments later that I was awakened by a repeated buzzing, the sound projected directly into my ears by the automation. I opened my eyes. A sign in the same yellow letters read: "Dress."

I slipped from under the covers and found my clothing on the chair where I had left it. I fumbled with the unfamiliar clothes in the dark, trying several orientations for the blouse and putting the voluminous knickers on backwards at the first attempt. Finally, I was ready. An arrow lit up by the door and I moved as quietly as I could to the entrance. There was a soft click, which I imagined was the automation operating the mechanical lock.

More letters appeared in mid-air: "Quiet. Open the door."

I pulled the door inwards as carefully as I could. There was a guard outside my prison door, a man I did not recognise although his clothing - and beard! - seemed


entirely familiar. He sat on a rough wooden stool with his back to the wall, fast asleep. He did not stir as I slipped past him. I could imagine that perhaps the PA had somehow made him unconscious, or maybe we had been waiting until he fell asleep on his own.

"Shut the door."

I set off at a fast walk to Selene's residence, the direction indicated by the PA's arrows, although I was pretty sure I could have found my way unaided. Around me, the darkness was near-absolute, with just a few lamps burning yellow in the distance. Even so, I did not stumble or fall; the automation seemed to be providing some kind of ghostly blue lighting, enough for me to see by, or perhaps the PA was projecting an enhanced view of the night-shrouded surroundings directly onto my eyeballs.

I did not see a single person as I made my way stealthily through the sleepy township, even though I would have thought the grounds would have been patrolled at night. The PA - which must have been expertly programmed - was choosing a route to minimize the changes of encountering anyone as well as providing guidance and opening locks on my behalf.

Even so, I was still required to do things myself - open and close doors, for example - rather than finding this was carried out silently and efficiently by the automation. The PA must have a limited capability, I concluded, as only a small quantity of the automation could have been contained in the tiny sphere I had concealed inside me.

It was not long before I arrived at the door of Selene's house. The PA flashed "Wait" and I stood for a few moments in the deep shadow cast by the roofed veranda, which seemed to have lost its squeak this evening. There was a soft click from the door lock. Unprompted, I carefully pushed the door open - there was no sound from the latch or hinges - slipped inside, and noiselessly shut the door behind me.

Dragon's briefing suggested that people here normally slept on the upper floor, so I stepped carefully along the little passageway and made my way up the stairs. Again, no sound, no squeaks of stressed timber joints. I realized that the PA must be working to suppress the sounds of my movements.


There were two rooms at the top of the house. One had the door wide open, and was obviously unoccupied; the other's door was ajar. I pushed it open - again, no noise from the hinges - and moved over to sit on the edge of the bed, next to Selene's sleeping form.

I shook Selene gently on the shoulder. She sat up suddenly, clutching the bedclothes to her chest. She was wearing some kind of shapeless nightdress that covered her from neck to - I would later discover - ankles.

"Who's there?" she asked tremulously.

"It's me, Tania," I replied softly.

The room was suddenly bathed in a more normal-looking - although still dim - light, no doubt projected by the PA.

"How did you get in?" she demanded, looking startled at my sudden appearance.

"I snuck in to see you," I replied simply.

"But how did you get out of the guest house?"

"The prison? Well, I have some help," I laughed, waving my hand vaguely in the air to indicate the source-less lighting, "Some hidden machinery supplied by a friend."

Selene looked at me askance. I shivered slightly, suddenly feeling chilled after the stress of my exertions. She sat up further and drew me close to her, throwing some of her bed covers over me so that we were almost in bed together, even though both of us were effectively fully clothed. She reached up and held my face in her hands.

"I thought you were a dream," she said softly, hesitantly, then kissed me quickly on the lips, "I'm so glad you're real. But what are you doing here?"

She looked suddenly anxious, scanning the bedroom as if expecting to see Jem or Jacob standing in the shadows.

"I've come to take me away with me," I replied, holding her close, "If you want to, of course."

"Oh!" Her eyes opened wide again, "You mean - go now?"

"Yes. They might catch us," I warned, "Which might well be bad for me, but it would be much worse for you."


"I don't care," she replied defiantly, "They can beat me but I want to give it a try."

"If you're sure," I said, taking both her hands in mine and looking into her eyes.

She nodded quickly, finality in her every movement.

"Get dressed," I said, slipping out form under the covers, "Quickly."

She complied, tugging off the long nightdress, allowing me a glimpse of her womanly form, still trim and curvaceous even after all her unaided years. She dressed with the swiftness of long practice, and it was only a minute or two before she was lacing her shoes.

"Okay," I said softly, "Time to go."

Part 5

The night was as pitch-black as before, relieved only by a few lanterns that glimmered in the distance. The automation was still showing an enormous yellow arrow directly in my eye-line, urgently flashing on and off and indicating that we should go right. I took Selene by the arm. She was still fiddling in some obscure fashion with her garments, as if it was really important at this time.

"Come on," I hissed in her ear, "Go right. Keep close to me."

We slipped out of the door and over the boards of the sidewalk in front of the house, hugging the shadows. I expected them to creak noisily, but they were strangely silent. The automation must be working overtime to ensure that our movements were not heard. We hopped off the sidewalk and scurried behind the buildings, still following the direction signs flashed up by the PA.

I imagined that the automation was doing its best to make us invisible was well. The heavy clothing might be sweaty and constricting, but the dark colors meant that, for the most part, we would not be standing out. The automation only had to mask our faces and we would be effectively invisible to all but the closest observer.


"Where are we going?" Selene whispered, as we paused to peer nervously around the edge of another darkened building.

"We're getting out of here," I replied softly, urging her forward, "Just follow me."

"But this path leads to the lake!" she insisted.

I did not know this, of course, but there was no time to explain anything now. We hurried onwards, partially hidden by the fences and garden sheds that delineated the vegetable plots and kitchen gardens which surrounded each homestead in the compound.

The gardens ended a little before the point where the the boundary fence and its ramparts came down to the lake side. There was no obvious means of escape, other than attempting to swim - which I was certainly in no position to try. Besides, I was sure that there would be hidden, sunken barriers and traps which would impede, perhaps fatally, any attempt to leave by that route.

The moon chose this moment to emerge from the clouds. Even so, the automation was insistent and led us to an unremarkable section of the fence perhaps twenty meters from the water's edge. I followed the arrows, with Selene tagging along right behind me, until we were both hidden in shadow below the guard's walkway above our heads.

The automation's directions flickered out for a moment, causing me to gasp nervously. Then, an arrow appeared, indicating what looked like a knothole in the stout timbers of the fence. On and off, on and off, flickered the automation. Eventually, I took the hint and stuck a finger gingerly into the hole that was being so very insistently pointed out to me.

There was a click, and a small section of the fence swung outwards on smooth invisible hinges. The doorway was low and narrow, with barely enough room for us to pass though. My eyes widened, I’m sure, and Selene's face was a picture of astonishment, her own eyes bright in the sudden moonlight.

"Come on!" I whispered urgently at Selene.

She slipped through, followed closely by myself. I paused only for long enough to bump the hidden door closed with


my ass. The automation was pointing the way again, directing us along a barely visible path along the edge of the lake, mostly concealed by trees and bushes - in stark contrast to the brutally cleared swathe that was to be found on the outside of the fence elsewhere, I had noted.

We scurried down the path, I allowed myself to think for one brief moment that we had managed to get away undetected. But just then, a harsh voice sounded from behind us, an urgent alarm mingled with surprise.

"Run," I shouted to Selene, "Keep close. Don't look back."

There was a series of sharp cracks from behind us.

"They're shooting at us!" Selene cried.

I had not recognized the sound of gunfire until sensed a bullet tearing through the undergrowth not two meters from where I was. I ran on, as fast as I could, trailed by Selene. We were being followed, I was sure of it, and I could not tell where we were or how far we had to go. Amongst the shouts, I thought I could pick out the sound of the Reverend's voice, issuing instructions that seemed at once impossible and contradictory.

Bodies came crashing through the woods behind me. The PA's urgent arrow showed that we should leave the path right here, and I dragged Selene bodily sideways into the undergrowth. We pressed on together, leaves and branches brushing against my face and arms and legs. I did what I could to shield Selene from the ravages of the foliage, relying on my own tough skin to deflect the worst of their effects.

Quite suddenly, I thought I recognized where we were, even without the intervention of the PA. In the bright moonlight, I realized that this was the lake at which I had enjoyed a picnic with my friends not so long ago and - the connection made me gasp aloud even as I ran - where I had glimpsed the Reverend masturbating in the bushes.

The yellow arrows that had been subliminally guiding me all this time abruptly disappeared. I confess I was immensely relived. During his briefing, Dragon had told me that his special automation was programmed to deactivate, to destroy itself as soon as we had passed over the edge of the No Nanotechnology Zone and were safe.


Simultaneously, the pursuers seemed to fade into the distance. We had either outrun them, or they had been discouraged from following us further by the normal PA's protective police action, or at least the threat of that action.

I slowed to a stop and tried to catch my breath, catching Selene as she stumbled behind me.

"It's OK," I said, between gasps, "It's OK, we're safe now. Catch your breath."

Selene coughed and panted for a few long moments.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Yes, I am. But we need to press on. We've a way to go yet."

She nodded her acceptance, with not even enough breath to speak again. We walked on slowly, picking our way among the trees. The automation, now in normal operation, was able to provide us with a degree of illumination, enough so that we could avoid the foliage for the most part. I followed the guidance of my Mapz(TM) subscription which increasingly gelled with my own memory of this area, and which led us to the roadway where our bus had delivered our party for that fun lakeside picnic in the sun.

There was nothing to be seen on the road now, just a dark tunnel made by the trees and fitfully illuminated by the automation. The Mapz(TM) began to indicate a route to make our way to Dragon's house, although it would be a long walk to the nearest metro station. Selene was flagging visibly, looking completely exhausted and now barely able to put one foot in front of another. I was feeling winded too, and I was beginning to wonder about finding somewhere to rest for a while.

Fortunately, we were collected after just a few minutes by Dragon's car. The vehicle slid to a stop just a few meters away, its lights dimmed and the door hissed open. Dragon was not present and the car was operating, as usual, automatically.

"Here's our ride," I said to Selene reassuringly, although I was not sure she had even heard me.


She collapsed on the carpet inside the car, falling deeply asleep immediately. All I could do was my best to make her comfortable while we were whisked back to Dragon's house.


Volume 13 – Club Sandwich

Part 1

The car eased quietly up to the ornate front door of Dragon's house. Brandon himself appeared at the entrance as we arrived, and ducked his head inside the vehicle as soon as its door had hissed open.

"How is she?" he asked.

I was not entirely sure myself. Selene seemed to be resting comfortably, sprawled flat on her back on the - admittedly, extremely comfortable - floor of the car, and breathing deeply and evenly. I shook her shoulder gently and spoke into her ear, but she neither woke up nor reacted appreciably.

"I expected this," Dragon said softly, reaching past me to gently ease my sister from the car.

"What's wrong with her," I asked, panicked by the sudden thought that Selene might be hurt or unwell for some reason.

"Nothing's wrong with her - at least, nothing that a little time won't fix," Dragon replied in a carefully soothing tone of voice, "But just help me get her inside."

I eased Selene's legs through the car door, then Dragon picked her up bodily in her arms. She lay limp, head lolling back, either deeply asleep or completely unconscious. The front door opened silently as we approached, while the car closed its door and slipped away, I imagined, to park itself somewhere out of sight, wherever it normally hid itself away.

Dragon carried Selene inside, into the open-plan living space at the top of the house. A low and comfortable-looking bed had been set up - all pristine white linen bedclothes - with the covers pulled back and pillows plumped up. It was set close to the floor-to-ceiling windows that


overlooked the flood-lit lawns and the pool, flanked by banks of trees and hedges in the distance.

He laid her down on the mattress and gently removed her clothes with almost no assistance from the PA. Dragon then slipped her under the covers, tucking her in with a wonderful display of tenderness. He stood back, hands on his hips and looked at his other daughter for a long moment. Then he turned, took me gently by the arm and let me to one side.

"She's lived nearly forty years without the medical attention of the automation," he explained, "There has been nothing to repair the everyday degradations of her body's cellular structure. That's why she had those lines on her face, and the grey in her hair - why she looks old, even though she hundreds of years younger than me and you."

He looked again at the sleeping beauty across the room.

"The PA is working her over at a cellular level," he continued, "Reversing the effects of that decay. So, she'll sleep a lot for the next day or two, and she'll be very hungry too."

I nodded in understanding.

"There's nothing we can do now except wait," he added, "so why don't you get yourself cleaned up and change into something more comfortable?"

Indeed, I did feel both physically grimy and emotionally dirty after my abusive experiences in the compound and the woods. I was still wearing most of the hot and heavy old-fashioned clothing I had donned for the trip to the Eden commune. With a sudden fierce energy, I tore off the white blouse, now torn and stained, and tossed it aside, immediately following it with the modest long skirt and the hateful undergarments. Suddenly I felt better, more myself - much more the independent and fun-loving individual that I really am.

"I'm going to take a shower," I said, more forcefully than I intended.

"Of course," Dragon agreed, smiling in an avuncular fashion and indicating the direction to the bathroom.


Twenty minutes later, I was showered, dried and had carefully massaged oil into the skin on my arms and legs. I was just finishing up when Dragon appeared in the doorway.

"Let me help you with that," he suggested.

I nodded. I was more than happy to let him rub more oil on my leathery epidermis under my breasts and on my back. It felt so good to be clean and pampered again, but I wasn't yet feeling at all horny. Dragon must have sensed this, as he held a large toweling robe open for me to slip into. I felt warmed and comforted, enveloped by the soft folds of the material.

Together we sat at a table just inside the glass wall and allowed the automation to bring us food and drink. I was hungry too, and demolished most of my sandwich in seconds. My appetite assuaged, I told Dragon in a low voice what had happened to me inside the Commune. He interrupted only twice, once to clarify that it was the Reverend himself who had "purged me of sin" in his office, and once to confirm my route around the lakeside to the picnic area.

Dragon got up and crossed to a cupboard, and came back with a bottle of what I would shortly discover was an extremely good bottle of whiskey. While I had been watching him, the PA had placed two old-fashioned heavy glass tumblers on the table. He poured a generous measure into each one.

"I can never express my thanks to you enough," he said formally, raising his glass in a toast.

I accepted the toast wordlessly, raising my own glass in response. I sipped the whiskey, which was warming in my throat, and washed it down with a morsel of the rich dark chocolate that had appeared with the glasses. I yawned and stretched.

"You should stay here, too," Dragon said, "You look worn out."

I suddenly realized I felt desperately tired, my exertions having completely exhausted me. It would be dawn in a few hours.


"You should sleep there," Dragon suggested, indicating a second made-up bed that had appeared as if by magic a few meters from my sister, "I'll keep an eye on Selene."

I could barely keep my own eyes open. I tottered over to the bed and collapsed into it, barely finding the energy to remove the toweling robe. I was asleep in seconds.

Part 2

By the time I awoke, it was already mid-morning. The sun streaming in through the windows lit up the bright and airy room. Now I felt fully alive and positively buzzing with energy; the PA had evidently been working on me whilst I slept. I lay back on the heaped pillows, thinking over the events of the last few days. Somehow, I thought wryly, I always seem to end up collapsing in exhaustion when I visit here.

Before I got around to getting up, I sensed a movement from the other bed. Selene's blonde head - now much more radiantly blonde than it had been yesterday - emerged from the covers.

"Good morning, sleepy-head," I called gaily, "How do you feel this morning?"

She sat up suddenly in alarm, looking around wildly and holding the covers up to her neck.

"I was wondering if it was all a dream," she said, in tones which combined relief and amazement in equal measure, "But I'm glad I really am here."

She looked at her own hands, which were still clutching the bedclothes at her throat. Her eyes widened, and she dropped the sheets - incidentally exposing her breasts - as she turned over her hands, inspecting them closely. She took a fragment of her hair between her fingers and looked at it amazed, tugging a blonde lock through the space between her fingers again and again.

Half-smiling, Selene sat up straight and ran her hands over her breasts and her belly, admiring - as I was - the taut muscles around her waist and stomach, and the flawless skin on arms and neck and face. I particularly enjoyed viewing her pert nipples and full round tits, their pale skin set off by large and contrastingly dark nipples which just begged to be


sucked. She started in surprise and then stared into space as the automation produced a virtual mirror in front of her so that she could see her own face and hair and body.

"So it is true what they say," she said, her voice shaking with emotion, "This world makes you look young - and feel young too. And I cannot see how this is the work of Satan."

"You look lovely," I assured her, "Truly wonderful."

I swung myself out of bed and stood up, stretched luxuriously, then took the few steps over to Selene's bed and sat casually on the edge of it. I twisted around and smiled widely at her, but was startled to see her staring at me.

"What are you?" she gasped, shrinking back from me and clutching the sheets to her chest again, "You're not human!"

I suddenly realized that, up until now, Selene had never seen any part of my body other than my face and hands, so she had no idea what Kind I actually was.

"Honey, relax," I said, taking her hands in mine, "I'm as human as you are. It's just that I'm a different Kind of human."

She was still looking at me wild-eyed.

"Look," I said reassuringly, taking one of her hands and putting it on my thigh, just at the point where the soft Norm skin met the shiny leather-look lower section, "This is all me, all real. It's just the way I was made, before I was born. Of course, I have thoughts and feelings and emotions like anyone else, and my body's not really that different - just a few enhancements for extra fun."

Selene ran her hand up and down my leg - I enjoyed the sensation, of course - over the smooth seam in my skin. She explored the similar joins at my wrist and upper arm, marveling at the way the different textures changed. Then she noticed my second vagina, the soft pink lips which nestle between my breasts, and her face looked shocked again.

"I have two," I explained, taking her fingers gently and pressing them first against the pussy between my tits and the vagina between my legs.

After a few moments, she withdrew her hand and stared into the distance for a while. I was unsure whether she was


reading something projected by the automation, or just deep in thought.

"Sorry," she said, looking genuinely contrite, "I guess I should have expected this kind of thing."

I smiled and, on a whim, slipped into her bed next to her. She shifted over to accommodate me, although the size of the bed meant that we were touching at hip and shoulder.

Selene twisted to look at me, eyes downcast.

"What I should really be doing," she said slowly, "is thanking you, for rescuing me from that terrible place."

With my free hand, I lifted her chin and kissed her full on the lips.

"I was my pleasure," I said, adding cheekily, "Or, at least, I suspect it soon will be."

She looked at me with some mixture of confusion and delight.

"Let's go shower," I suggested playfully, throwing back the covers and exposing both our naked bodies.

I could now see that my sister had smoothly rounded hips and the same flawless pale skin on her long shapely legs with a delectable split mound between them. She was completely shaved there, presumably performed by the PA - having inferred that this was the way she preferred it.

I took Selene by the hand and led her to the large and well-equipped shower room just off the main open-plan living area. Even though she had got over the initial surprise and shock, she was still completely fascinated with my body, looking intensely at my back and ass as I opened the cubicle door.

"Come on then," I enthused, "In we go."

She hesitated for a second, then followed me in. The water turned itself on automatically, at a temperature chosen precisely by the PA to be most comfortable for both of us.

"Let me soap you," I suggested.

Selene nodded, and I see about rubbing her back, and then her breasts and her ass and thighs. Sle clearly enjoyed


the attention, and every reaction on her face and in her body told me she wanted to feel more of my hands, my fingers.

"We mustn't do this," she said earnestly, suddenly taking my hands in hers and lifting them from her body.

"Why not?" I said, "I know you want to. I want to. No-one's going to stop us, and certainly no-one's going to disapprove."

"But what if someone's watching?" she insisted, "Surely anyone could be observing us right now, using this magical automation."

"What if they are?" I replied, grinning lustfully at her, "In fact, we should put on a good show just in case someone is!"

Her face lit up at the happy, naughty thought. I bent forward to suck on her left nipple, the water from the shower cascading from my back for a moment before the automation shut it off. I could hear her gasp even over the rush of the water, her moans of pleasure increasing as I moved my mouth to her other breast.

I ran an exploratory finger between her legs, between her pussy lips. She was already wet, and she evidently enjoyed my attentions on her clit. I was rapidly able to bring her to orgasm, her head jerked back hard and nearly banging on th shower wall. She did her best to reciprocate, although I was soon fairly convinced that she had never played with a pussy before - except her own, of course.

In the end, I polished myself off with swift circular motions on my own clit while Selene fucked me enthusiastically but inexpertly with her fingers. It seemed like a little sex education would be required very shortly.

Part 3

After our sex in the shower, Selene and I emerged and dried each other off using a varied collection of fluffy white towels the automation had laid out for us. I tried out a few more caresses of her ass and breasts and, to my entire delight, she returned the touch, kissing me warmly on the lips while separating my fanny cheeks with both her hands.

"You know," I said, disengaging from the kiss with a fair degree of reluctance and slapping her gently on the rump, "I really think you'll like it here. And I also think, if you're


anything like me, that after a good sleep and a little playful sex, you'll now be incredibly hungry."

Her face lit up.

"You do understand, don't you," she said, with an expression compounded of wistfulness and satisfaction, "I'm so glad you came for me."

We ate breakfast together, sat at a small table on the terrace overlooking the lawns and the pool. My sister was entirely amazed at the way the food that she wanted seemingly materialized out of thin air - "like magic", she said. I explained again about the pervasive automation, about how it was built with a deep knowledge of the needs and desires of humans of all Kinds, augmented by near-omniscient observation, and therefore capable of instantaneous prediction and delivery. This time, perhaps she was beginning to believe what I said.

Sis ate an astonishing amount, new plates heaped with the foods she enjoyed appearing regularly. Presumably her appetite was the result of a need to fuel the repairs the PA was making to her body. By contrast, I picked at my food - although I certain ate a good deal more than normal for me.

After we had finished eating, we sat at the table together for a long time while it was cleared unobtrusively by the automation. She told me more about her life, her family: how she was brought up in the strict faith of the commune by her mother, now long dead of old age, and the man she had married in church - I had the automation provide me with a concise definition of this term - twenty years ago.

Her husband was also now dead, after an accident with some kind of mill machinery that confused and distressed me immensely. I was horrified to hear about people dying, no longer existing, the reality of death brought home to me much more than the warnings - at the time, seemingly abstracted - that Dragon had issued before I visited the commune.

Selene also told me about her desire to have a family, to bear children herself. To her distress and for some reason she did not - or could not - explain, she was not able to get pregnant, although she did hint that she suspected the fault was with her husband. It seemed that he was rarely able to


perform at all and was never even barely satisfactory "in the bedroom", as she put it.

To compensate, she told she fantasized about encounters with strangers and neighbors - although had never acted on those fantasies - and masturbated regularly and vigorously. She kept about her various tools and objects - all of which had plausible alternative uses - but whose real purpose was to assist her in achieving a degree of sexual satisfaction.

I tried to explain about my life, the way the world worked here. I got the impression that she simply didn't believe half the things I said, that she thought I was exaggerating, even showing off for her benefit. I backed off from anything she did not seem to accept; I did not want to push things right now - there would be plenty of time for demonstrations later.

By this time, the sun was high in the sky, and it was getting quite hot, even under the shade of the terrace parasols. I stretched luxuriously, then suggested a cooling dip in the swimming pool.

"But I don't have a swimming costume," she objected.

"Well, neither do I," I responded, "But I'm quite sure it's not in the least bit necessary."

"Oh! Skinny dipping!" she cried, "I've always wanted to swim naked."

I took her by the hand and together we scampered down the sun-warned steps to the pool area. Selene rushed straight into the water, squealing from the coolness, then swam energetically and confidently but not, as far as I could tell, with a great deal of technique - not that I'm an expert, of course. Even so, she seemed to revel in the warm water and the sunshine, her eyes flashing and her breasts bouncing when she stood up in the center of the pool. I splashed about in the shallow end, more to be sociable than anything else; I was delighted to see my sister so happy and playful.

While we were swimming, Dragon emerged from the house and made his way down the same steps. On this occasion he was not wearing his trademark Kimono, but was quite naked except for a folded towel that he had evidently thrown casually over one shoulder and which concealed, basically, nothing at all. Selene saw him approaching, and


swam up to sit next to me on the steps that led down to the shallow end of the pool.

"Who's that?" she asked in a low voice, her face alight with lustful interest, "He's gorgeous."

"Our host. Why don't you go and say hello," I suggested mischievously.

She looked shocked, frozen for a moment. Before she could decide what to do, Dragon had pre-empted her.

"Good morning, Tania," he said in a friendly fashion, "I trust you slept well."

I nodded grinning. He turned to my sister.

"And you must be Selene," he continued, "I'm delighted to meet you."

Sis was transfixed, her eyes locked on Dragon's dick - which was nicely impressive, in my experienced opinion - as if she had never seen one before. There was a short stillness, then Dragon slid the towel from his shoulders and bent down, taking Selene by one hand and encouraging her to stand.

"I can see you have a need, an urgent requirement," Dragon said softly in his deep voice, "Let me help you with that."

My sister seemed to be in a daze, unable to drag her eyes away from the man's crotch. Dragon led her to the sun-lounger and guided her to lay back on it, then gently spread her legs to run his thumbs over her pussy lips.

As he stimulating her clit between the edges of each digit, she squirmed and cried out, a low animal groan that conveyed a deep-seated need. Dragon bent forward and licked at her pussy, causing her to arch her back and reach down with one hand to hold his head firmly between her legs. She cried out again and again, rapidly reaching the orgasm she so desperately craved, despite my best efforts earlier. She panted for a few moments, looking at Dragon's face still wedged between her thighs, then rolled over and knelt on the lounger, spreading her legs wide.

"Take me now," she begged, "Fill me, enter me, now!"


Dragon needed no further urging. He stood behind her, his rampant cock stiffening still further as he rubbed the head over her cunt lips, moistening it so that it glistening in the sunlight. He then plunged into her, taking her as deeply and as thoroughly as she obviously wanted.

I sat on the top step of the pool, watching my sister get the entire length and girth of Dragon’s cock inside her and idly touching myself, bringing myself off - a willy-nilly - just as Selene reached her second screaming, shaking orgasm. Dragon had not finished - I knew from previous experience just how difficult it was to get him to come - but he politely withdrew his member. There should be time to enjoy that cock myself very soon, I thought.

I decided to join them. I stood, dripping pool water - and a little of my own moisture - on the warm decking and made my way over to where Selene was still lying on one of the sun-loungers, grinning at me as I approached. I sat down on the edge of the lounger and kissed Dragon - enjoying my sister's taste on his lips - and then Selene.

"I can't tell you how much I needed that," she told me, licking her own lips libidinously, no doubt also tasting a little of what I had just experienced.

"Oh, I think I got the idea," I replied, grinning back at her.

Selene rolled over onto her stomach and kicked up her heels, supporting her chin in her palms and looked up at Dragon.

"You know," she said, "I've always fantasized about having a real cock - a real big, hard cock - inside me like that."

"Glad you enjoyed it," Dragon said, looking flattered.

"Of course, you can have as many hard cocks as you want," I chipped in, "And I'll make it my mission to arrange plenty more for your delectation."

Selene laughed, a happy sound of release and satisfaction mixed with an appreciation of what the future might hold.

"So what is your name?" she asked Dragon.


"I'm Brendon O'Reilly," Dragon replied in his deep voice, "I'm your father."

Selene's mouth formed a soundless 'O' of surprise, a look entirely at odds with her horny attitude a moment before. Then she smiled, increasingly widely as the realization, the truth of the situation, sunk in. She looked from Dragon to me and back again.

"So here, I really can" - she hesitated, then pressed on - "fuck anyone I want?"

Part 4

"Yes, you can," Dragon confirmed in his deep drawling voice, "You can fuck anyone who will have you. Any Kind, any place, any time - and in any numbers and combinations you fancy. It's one of the delights of the modern world."

He paused, then added, "Personally, I love it!"

He sat up on the sun-lounger suddenly, then stood and stretched luxuriously, the sunlight glinting off his tanned and magnificent frame. He turned to face us both.

"Now then, ladies," Dragon said, "We need to make a visit to the club. I have a favor to ask of the proprietor."

"OK," I agreed, and Selene shrugged her shoulders, giving the impression she was perfectly happy to tag along anywhere.

We collected towels and dried off, then strolled up the gentle slope back to the house. The house was cool and quiet, the PA having tidied away all the bedding and the few remnants of our breakfast. Dragon made to go into another part of the house, then stopped at the door.

"Tania, there's some clothing in the closet near where you were sleeping," he said, "Perhaps you'd help Selene pick out something."

"Sure," I agreed perkily.

We took another quick shower, each wrapping ourselves in a fluffy white towel, then investigated the closet Dragon had indicated. My own miniskirt and light jacket were hanging there, cleaned and tidied away by the automation. After a surprisingly short time, Selene picked out a strappy


summery print dress in yellows and greens that left her arms and neck and shoulders bare.

"But what about underwear?" she asked.

"What do you need underwear for?" I responded, eyeing her up and down, "Your breasts certainly don't need any support, and I'm sure you'll be much more comfortable without any kind of constraint elsewhere."

Selene smiled wickedly, then slipped the dress over her head.

"How do I look?" she asked, twirling girlishly.

"A utter delight," Dragon's voice came before I could answer, "Are you ready to go?"

We took another trip in Dragon's car, which appeared automatically at the front door as we emerged. I passed the time by showing Selene how to suck cock. This was quite a challenge, given the immense size of Brandon's member now protruding from another one of the Kimonos he preferred to wear when he felt clothing was desired. Even so, I thought that Selene gained the skills really very rapidly, judging by the reactions on Dragon's face and the stiffness of his dick.

We took it in turns to lick his cock, and to rub it between our breasts. Dragon was far too big to enter my upper cunt, but Selene managed to get some of his helmet into her mouth - hers was just that little bit bigger than mine. Dragon groaned and writhed for a good fifteen minutes, finishing with a wild and uncontrolled cry followed by an immense explosion of cum that caused Selene to screech - some combination of surprise and delight, I imagined. I licked the cum off her face and breasts, and we were all nicely cleaned up by the time we pulled up at the front door of the Chromium Shaft club.

We exited the vehicle together, Selene still twitching her dress back into place over her breasts, and strode in. Directed by a sign from the PA, we turned a sharp right just inside the main doors and walked up two flights of stairs to the upper floor area.

Maxine was the proprietor of the Chromium Shaft Club, and therefore my boss. She was sitting calmly behind the desk in her office and accompanied, as always, by Kitty, her


sidekick. Kitty was dressed in the inevitable cat-suit, the armory of sensory equipment built into the fabric of her clothing gave her - the Club gossip said - a whole gamut of enhanced senses not available to those less well-endowed, not to mention a range of sexual capabilities beyond any un-augmented Kind I had ever heard of.

"Hello, Dragon," Maxine said, standing up as we followed Brandon into the room, "What can I do for you?"

"Dragon?" Selene hissed at me.

"It's a nickname," I explained, "Everyone seems to call him that - even me."

Dragon and Maxine stood close together, speaking very quietly before exchanging a chaste kiss in the fashion that indicted clearly that they were two people who would very much like to fuck each other senseless right this very moment, but were held apart by some kind of shared history I knew nothing of. I was tempted to ask the PA, but demurred: we had other fish to fry - whatever that old-fashioned expression meant - right now.

"So why are we here?" Selene whispered to me.

Before I could answer, Dragon spoke loud enough for us all to hear.

"My daughters: Tania you already know," he said to Maxine, holding out his hand in our direction, "And let me introduce Selene."

No doubt the PA had already filled the gaps in knowledge for the proprietor’s benefit.

"I want to throw Selene a party," Dragon explained to Maxine, then turned to speak directly to Selene herself, "I want to introduce you to a few people - old friends - by way of a welcome home. And I want to hold it here at the Club."

"Actually," I said, several naughty thoughts appearing in my mind, "I suspect that quite a lot of people would like to get to know you, a lot better and you could do with catching up."

"What do you mean?" Selene wondered.


"I think you, and I, should entertain as many people as we can manage," I elaborated, "Let's hold a gang-bang; an old-fashioned orgy."

Selene looked delighted, even radiant for a moment, clearly ferally excited by the prospect, then her face suddenly, inexplicably, looked sad.

"I don't know whether I can stay," she said, looking from Dragon to me and back again, "If the Reverend finds me and asks me back, I'm afraid I'll have to return."

"Why?" I demanded, utterly shocked.

"I promised my mother," she said simply.

In a flash, I realized that we would need to find a way of making sure that the Reverend did not want Selene back, that he could never ask her to return, or if he did, she would not feel compelled to go after all.

"Okay. Well, we will just need to get you in a position where the Reverend cannot ask you that question," I said.

"How are you going to achieve that?" Selene demanded, looking both confused and suddenly hopeful.

I grinned broadly at her.

"I think I know exactly how to do it," I replied mysteriously, "Although it will take a certain amount of careful management. So, will you just trust me?"

I glanced around at Maxine and Kitty and Brandon, knowing that the automation would discreetly inform them of what I had in mind, and why Selene had to remain unaware of my plan. I hoped she would remain so, which she would unless she asked the automation explicitly, of course.

"Yes," Selene replied carefully, "Yes, I will trust you."

"Great! We'll want to get a welcome party organized, of course, but firstly," I said, looking directly at Selene, "We need to pay a visit. To see a man about a job."


Volume 14 – But You Can’t Hide

Part 1

We left the Chromium Shaft Club by the staff entrance - around the back, of course - and walked along the narrow alley where I had had that strange encounter with the over-dressed man just a few days ago. I stopped dead, looking around at the spot where he had tried to grab me. Thinking back, I began to suspect that the man in the black hat had something to do with the Eden Commune, or with the Reverend.

The PA was, as always, ready with an explanation, prompted by my body language and the flickering movements of my eyeballs surveying the scene. Words and pictures flashed in front of my eyes, as if projected on an invisible screen. They confirmed my suspicions, that he was indeed from the NNZ I had visited recently, the one from whence I had liberated Selene.

But the PA could give no clue as to why he had come, or what he intended to achieve, since any discussion or planning would have been done inside the Commune and therefore away from the pervasive monitoring provided by the automation. I could only speculate that it had something to do with Dragon's request to visit his daughter or, more precisely, with his request to let me visit Selene - even though that was long before he had even suggested the possibility to me.

I turned around. Selene was looking at me strangely.

"Are you OK" she asked, sounding a shade worried.

"Fine," I replied cheerily, "Just a sudden thought. No problem. Let’s go."

I slipped my arm through hers, and we set off jauntily together along the sidewalk in the sunshine.


I had decided to drop in at my apartment since it was quite close to the Club and on the way to the Metro station. I wanted to change my clothing - something a little more special was called for, I considered - and I thought that Selene might like to borrow something from my wardrobe, too.

We scampered up the stairs of the apartment building and flung open the door of the little apartment I share with my dear friend Renie. She was in, on her own, evidently trying on a variety of clothes from her wardrobe and some out of mine, too, I could see. As we entered, she was twirling around, no doubt admiring her outfit - a tight halter top and a school-girl pleated miniskirt - in front of a virtual mirror projected by the automation.

"Tania!" she squealed, "There you are! I was beginning to wonder what you're up to - and who you're up to it with."

Her greeting struck me as if I had been away for a month, rather than a couple of nights.

"And who's this?" she added archly, looking over my shoulder at Selene, "A new friend?"

I grinned, looking from one girl to the other.

"Renie," I said mock-formally, "Let me introduce Selene, my half-sister. Selene, my flat-mate Renie."

"Sister?" Renie queried, "I didn't know you had a sister."

"It's a long story," I replied.

We three girls sat together on the large futon that occupies a surprisingly large amount of the space in our little apartment. I told Renie a little about my recent adventures, a short-form version of the party at Mom's, and meeting Dragon, and my trip to the Eden Commune, with interjections from Selene whenever I tried to down-play my part in the proceedings. Meanwhile, the PA - sensing our needs even before we were consciously aware of them - presented us with a selection of snacks and nibbles, each plate tailored to our own tastes and preferences.

Having eaten their fill, Renie and Selene lay back against the small mountain of pillows at the bed-head, while I sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed. I could see that Renie was interested in taking things further with Selene - I have


seen that look on her face too often to count - and I was pretty sure that Selene was feeling horny too. I coughed, to attract their attention back to me for a moment.

"Now that Selene's here, I need to do a couple of things," I started, "Firstly, I'm going to arrange a little welcome party, to introduce my new-found sister to my friends. Madamae Maxine's offered us the use of a room at the Club."

Renie's eyes lit up at the thought.

"Am I invited?" she asked.

"Of course, Darling. I wouldn't want it without you," I replied reassuringly, then continued, "Secondly, we will need to go away for a while, somewhere where the Reverend can't find us. So I'll need some money."

"How are you going to get that?" Renie inquired, "Ask for a loan from your Mom, or this Dragon."

"Oh, that won't be necessary," I replied airily, "I'll just do a few delivery jobs for Johnny. That should see us through for a while."

Renie nodded, her attention already returning to the curvaceous blonde next to her.

"But we don't have to rush right now, do we?" Selene said, with a plaintive tone in her voice, "I've not really got to know your friend yet."

I grinned wryly, looking at the two sexy people at the other end of my bed, running their hands over each others breasts and kissing passionately.

"There's no rush," I replied generously, "Take your time."

Inevitably, Selene's hands wandered down below Renie's waist and under the short skirt she was still wearing. As she reached between Renie's legs, Selene gasped suddenly and started to jerk her hand back. Renie caught her wrist gently.

"It's all right, Honey," she purred, "It's not anything you won't have seen before."

Renie flicked up her skirt and opened her legs wider, revealing the petite but perfectly formed penis I was so very familiar with.

"You're a man," Sis cried out, her eyes wide.


Renie laughed aloud.

"No, Honey," she said, "I've got everything a girl's got, and then some!"

Renie guided Selene's hand down over her rampant cock and to her pussy lips, showing her the increasingly moist opening she had where a Norm male would have balls.

"You lucky girl!" Selene exclaimed.

She reached down with her other hand to rub Renie's cock while slipping a finger inside her. It was Renie's turn to gasp, this time with pleasure as Selene's nimble and sensitive fingers explored her most intimate places.

I could see these two were going to get one well. I drew out my favorite toy, a large pink dildo, from behind the cushions and moistened it lavishly in my mouth, before firmly affixing the sucker cup to the floor. While I watched Renie receiving the full attention of Selene's tongue on both penis and pussy, I squatted down pressing the familiar tip of the toy between my legs.

Another afternoon playtime at home. I was glad to be back.

Part 2

Steve turned up at our flat while Selene and Renie were fucking and I was masturbating, squatting over my dildo while watching the two of them getting much better acquainted.

"New friend?" he asked Renie laconically, after standing and watching the three of us for a while with his hand inside his retro-look blue jeans.

Renie looked up from her task of sucking on Selene's clit, delighting in taking that soft but oh-so-sensitive protuberance between her lips and teeth. She grinned at her boyfriend.

"Hi Steve," she said, licking her lips, "This is Selene, Tania's new-found sister."

"Who's that?" Selene asked, attempting to sit up and glancing at Steve anxiously as if she was about to be the object of the man's anger.


I must admit I was a little distracted at this time, pounding up and down on my toy while working my clit furiously with my own saliva. I was working my way up to a tidy orgasm, the kind that would pleasure me greatly while making me desperate for several more. It's just the way I'm made, I guess.

By the time I could even think about speaking coherently, Renie had re-assured Selene and both of them were smiling again.

"Just you relax, Honey," she told her, "Steve always likes to watch."

Renie pressed Selene gently back down onto the futon and resumed her interrupted cunnilingus. Steve's dick was by now protruding from his clothing, the bulging fabric having split open by the kind attentions of the automation.

"You two seem to be busy," he said laconically, "Perhaps I should get Tania to entertain me for a while."

"Uh-huh," Renie replied.

She was already visibly distracted by Selene who had swung around and was now tonguing her cunt lips, her head on one side and the tangled disarray of her hair falling over Renie's thighs. I was impressed by the way Selene had managed to set a smooth coordinated rhythm of her tongue on Renie's pussy lips while wanking her hard dick to a different, but equally exciting tempo. There was every risk that Renie would cum on the other girl's hair very soon.

By now, Steve had rapidly stripped off his clothes and resumed his masturbation, while I returned my attention to my dildo. I knew Steve's preferences well: he likes to watch, and he likes to be in complete control of his own orgasms. He moved to a spot where he could watch both me, and Renie and Selene with minimal movements of his head. I put on a good show for him, again bouncing hard on my toy.

I knew I would come again very soon, and the cries emanating from Renie and Selene - she was fucking her hard from behind now - suggested that they were both close to a powerful release. Steve recognized the moment, too, and moved to first fuck in my mouth and then in my upper cunt, before coming explosively over my face and breasts. I achieved that second orgasm almost at the same moment,


not even having taken the dildo from inside me in the meantime.

A little while later, all four of us were lying together on the mattress. Now that she had thought about it some more, Selene was still curious about what I have in mind for her.

"I need to take you away," I explained, "Far away from this area - somewhere where the Reverend and his henchmen cannot track you down."

This was a flat lie - something I could not possibly have got away with most people, who would have instinctively - subliminally, even - checked with the PA for verification, though I thought I could rely on her naivety for the time being.

"We should take every opportunity to enjoy ourselves while we are still around," I continued, "But we do need to go and talk to a man about a job."

I had already sent a message asking to meet Johnny. He had responded almost immediately, accepting my invitation.

"So it's time we were off," I said, bouncing from the futon with a sudden burst of energy which took Selene and the others by surprise.

She tossed her tousled blonde locks and smiled.

"Okay, let's go."

We took a quick refreshing shower together, leaving Renie and Steve dozing together, and dressed both of us rapidly with items from my wardrobe. I chose one of my miniskirt and sleeveless top combinations, while Selene decided on another flowing summery robe.

It was then just a brisk walk to the Metro station and a short trip across town to meet Johnny. The Metro was practically empty and Selene and I sat quietly together, chatting softly, still enveloped in that rosy post-orgasmic glow which I always find lasts for a little while and then leaves me wanting more sex, much more.

Part 3

The place I had agreed to meet Johnny was the same downtown Starbucks I had visited before. I was beginning to


suspect that he uses the place as a kind of office for whatever business he undertakes. Selene and I paused for a few moments to admire the knee-length golden Reel Fur(TM) coat in the shop window next door.

"Do you like it?" I asked Selene.

"Oh yes," she replied, her head on one side as she inspected the garment closely, "Such lovely colors. It would really suit you."

When we entered the 'Bucks, Johnny was occupying a semi-circular banquette at the back of the shop. He was accompanied by the same cool Dollface, still smoking a cigarette with the same long holder and the same disdainful expression. She wore a different dress: this one was sheer and strapless (of course), colored a deep shade of crimson, slit to the navel and to the waist from top and bottom respectively, and displayed a substantial fraction of one of her long and slender legs. The foot at the end of the visible leg, and no doubt the other too, was decorated by a different pair of glitteringly expensive-looking and teeteringly high-heeled shoes.

By unspoken agreement, Selene and I split up as we approached, me moving to sit next to Johnny on one side and Sis sliding in alongside the Dollface. Johnny turned to acknowledge me as I sat down, removing his hand from between his companion's thighs and sniffing at his manicured fingertips.

Selene was completely struck by the tall doll-faced woman, looking up at her mass of tousled blonde ringlets with her mouth open. It must have been something from her background and upbringing, I suppose, but she just could not drag her eyes away.

"Wow," she said, in a hushed voice, "You look gorgeous - absolutely beautiful."

The Dollface's chilly demeanor warmed several degrees at this compliment and her face eased into an ironic lopsided smile.

"Well, Honey, you sure know how to appreciate a lady," she drawled, looking at the petite woman next to her with increasing appreciation.


"Say, Dollface," Johnny said laconically, "Tania and me, we need to have a little chat. Why don't you entertain her friend for a while?"

The Dollface slid closer to Selene on the banquette. Sitting back, she slipped a perfectly formed breast from under the sheer red cloth of her dress. Her dark nipple stood proud, surrounded by a small and delightful areola in a scarcely lighter shade. I knew I would have been unable to resist the temptation to suck on that teat, and I was not in the least bit surprised when Selene pressed her mouth to the glorious breast offered to her.

The Dollface arched her back at the increasingly firm pressure on her nipple, her mouth opened and her face twisting with the pleasurable sensations. I knew she could not resist for long, and she reached for Selene with one hand, sliding over the soft skin on the inside of her thigh. Selene moaned at the touch, drawing away from the Dollface's breast. The blonde woman gently drew my sister's face to hers with her other hand, kissing her with lips wide and her tongues exploring the other's mouth. Selene returned this kiss, her hands exploring the other woman, her fingers seeking the other's pussy lips with increasing abandon and urgency.

Johnny and I sat silently for a few moments, watching our companions exploring each others bodies with fingers and mouths. Finally, Johnny dragged his attention away from the sexy show next to him and turned to me.

"So, what was it you wanted to see me about?" he drawled.

"Well, now that I've rescued my sister..." I started.

"Oh, so she's your sister, is she?" Johnny's curiosity was engaged, at least a little; it was my job to fan the flames, "And just what antique horror did you rescue her from?"

I snorted, not quite a laugh.

"She's been brought up out of this world, in an NNZ - a closed religious community. She was there because her Mother wanted it that way, but now she's out and about - and clearly enjoying every bit of it."


I nodded in the direction of the increasingly noisy lesbian sex show in the other half of the booth. Johnny followed my glance for a second.

"All very interesting, but what has this got to do with me?"

"Well, in all honesty, I need some money," I said, "And I was hoping that you'd find some work for me, some delivery that needs making, some job I can do.”

"Ah. Perhaps I can help," the man replied, feigning disinterest, badly, "But not today. Nothing's hot just now. Come and see me next week, maybe. What do you need the money for, anyway?"

"I need to get Selene away from here, quickly, in case the Reverend and his people come after her," I explained in a low voice, "They want her back, you see."

I could see that the message was getting though - that Selene was a runaway from a closed community. The PA would tell him everything he would need to know to find out exactly which community I had spirited Selene away from. It was a pretty safe bet that they would have already been putting out feelers, advertising their loss and, in particular, offering a substantial reward for information on the location of their missing follower.

I knew that the Reverend could not been seen to be using the automation he preached so vehemently - and so hypocritically - against. Instead, the information must come to him in a way that could be explained, demonstrated to his followers, so that he could come out into the world or, more likely, send some of his henchmen to retrieve my sister.

"That's okay, I suppose," I replied, taking care to look a little disappointed, "But I guess that gives me time to organize a party for her."

"A party?" Again, so very curious, try as he might to conceal it.

"A welcome party," I explained, "A quiet gathering in one of the private rooms at the Club. Just a few friends and family. This evening, if I can get everything set up in time."

We were distracted by the Dollface and Selene as they reached a screaming simultaneous orgasm. Both women


had their legs wide, astride each other, their breasts exposed and Selene's bouncing in time to the Dollface's vicious thrusts. Selene was finger-fucking the blonde just as brutally while rubbing her own clit with an urgent circular motion.

My sister was beginning to fit in really rather well, I thought.


Volume 15 – Maximum Exposure

Part 1

We left the Starbucks and walked back towards the Metro station, again pausing to look over that glorious fur coat in the shop window. Our next port of call was Mom's apartment. I had a favor to ask of her - another part of my plan, of course - and besides I felt she would be interested in meeting Selene. She might not have heard of my recent escapade, but she would probably be amused to hear about it and, in any case, she always likes to meet new and interesting people.

The Metro station platform was quite crowded, enough so that I held on tightly to Selene's hand; she remained a little nervous in the presence of large numbers of people. The train which arrived was also nearly full. Fortunately, a few people got off and I moved quickly; I got on first, tugging Sis along in my wake, moving to stand by a vertical pole provided to steady standing passengers. Selene was pressed right up against me in the crush; I was standing sideways and I could her feel her breasts, larger and softer than mine, pressing into my upper arm.

Moments after the doors had slid shut with a thump and the car had jerked into motion, I felt Selene stiffen, her mouth opening instinctively in a gasp and her eyes widening in surprise.

"Tania!" she hissed in my ear, "Someone's touching my ass!"

I turned around to face Sis, with some difficulty in the crowded interior. I looked up over her shoulder, straight into the face of a woman with flaming red hair, who stared back at me with flashing green eyes and a lascivious look on her face. She wore a tightly-cut grey business suit, which might have been thought of as conservative if the skirt had not been so short and the jacket not cut so low over her tits. It was that horny slut I had encountered before, the one who


liked to touch people in crowded trains while masturbating herself to a quick orgasm between stops.

"Relax, Honey," I answered her, "She just wants to play a little."

"Oh," Selene said, a grin widening across her face as she thought about it.

As I might have done, Sis moved her legs as wide apart as the confines of the Metro car and the bodies of strangers would allow, and leaned a little forward, arching her back as she did so, her head coming to rest on my shoulder. Encouraged by her movement, I could just make out the red-haired woman sliding her hand further under my sister's short skirt, eliciting, again, a gasp from Selene.

"Ohh," she moaned, barely audible over the noise and rattle of the Metro car, "She's, she's inside me, her fingers, and I'm soo wet!"

"You like?" I purred in her ear, remembering my previous encounter with this particular lady.

"Oh, yes!" Selene replied between gasps, "Ohh, yes."

Do doubt she was still wet from her encounter with Johnny's Dollface in the 'Bucks a few minutes ago. I stood leaning back on the handhold pole and cradling her head on my shoulder, whispering encouragements in her ear and willing her to come soon, so very soon, to reach a climax in the short time we had before the train reached the next station stop.

I was watching the woman through half-slitted eyes, who was masturbating herself and my sister at the same time. Hher eyes were half-closed too, and her shoulders and hips jerking rhythmically to the motions of one hand between her own legs and the rigid fingers of the other fucking my sister. All three of us were surrounded by anonymous backs in dark clothing, no-one noticing - at least, not overtly - and certainly no-one caring what she was doing.

The redhead sure was practiced at this. As I watched, her mouth opened in an almost soundless "O" and her head shook with exquisite pleasure. She sagged momentarily, almost as if her legs were suddenly too weak to support her. I could tell she liked what she had just done. At almost the


same moment, Selene arched her head back and then it banged hard on my shoulder, crying out once involuntarily as an orgasm rippled through her.

The Metro rumbled to a halt and the doors slid open. The crush eased almost immediately, with people hurrying to leave the car. The woman in the grey business suit departed too, smoothing down her skirt over her fanny and walking with a gait which cried "just fucked!" to a close observer. As she left, she cast the merest glance back at us, Selene still gasping in post-orgasmic pleasure on my shoulder, and me watching her with much curiosity and not a little lust.

The Metro car was now two-thirds empty - the downtown stop where the lecherous redhead had departed was obviously a popular destination at this hour - and I guided Selene to a seat to allow her to recover. One day, I told myself, I will find out more about that horny red-headed bitch, and arrange for a longer and much more satisfying encounter.

Part 2

For the rest of the train trip, Selene and I sat back and watched the other travelers. My sister was - very temporarily, I am sure - sated from the attentions of the Dollface and the redhead, while I spent much of the time staring out of the window, thinking further about the scheme I had hatched for Selene's party.

By the time my attention had returned to the here-and-now, most of the passengers had departed at the numerous stops along the line. The car was by now nearly empty and I was only vaguely aware of a couple of people at the far end of the carriage.

"What is that?" Selene hissed in my ear, pointing down the car.

I smiled. Of course my sister had never encountered one of his Kind before.

"He's a Satyr," I explained, "Huge cock, hard instantly, horny as hell and able to keep it up for hours."

The Satyr, with the priapic reactions characteristic of his kind, was already erect, his immense dick proudly emerging from the dark and curly fur that covered his body from waist


to mid-calf. The upper part of his body was clothed in a sleeveless white tee-shirt that emphasized his broad chest and shoulders, and the hair on his head and the little goatee beard he sported were of the same thick brown hair that covered his lower body.

"But why has he got all that hair on his legs?" Selene pressed.

I laughed aloud, just managing to deaden the sound behind my hand.

"Can you imagine," I replied, speaking directly into Selene's ear, "Just how uncomfortable that erection would be if he was wearing any trousers?"

"Oh!" Selene said, her eyes widening as she took in the information.

I felt sure I had seen this particular Satyr before. Perhaps, I was beginning to suspect, this particular horny old goat had taken to traveling frequently on the Metro principally as a way of encountering interesting strangers - a possibility I had entertained myself on more than one occasion.

On this journey, the Satyr was attending to the urgent needs of a statuesque woman with incredibly dark skin and short-clipped white hair, presenting a contrasting effect that was emphasized by her flashing white eyes, white teeth, silver fingernails, and silver gloss on her lips - both the ones around her mouth and, I could now see clearly, the ones between her legs.

As we watched, she had bent forward from the waist, licking the Satyr's dick - there was no way she could get even the tip into her mouth - while holding it determinedly in both hands. She had hitched up her short skirt and separated her legs instinctively - or perhaps because she knew we were watching her from a distance.

She looked to me very much like a woman who knew what she wanted and was determined to get it as soon as possible. She pressed the Satyr back against the seating and straddled his face, clearly urging him to lick her out, to explore the soft folds around her cunt. He was clearly doing this very effectively, judging by the intense expressions of pleasure that racked her face.


In a low voice, I explained to Selene about Satyr's saliva, which was thick and immensely effective as lubrication.

"So you're experienced this yourself?" Selene asked, sounding, to my amusement, slightly shocked.

"Oh, yes," I said, a huge grin spreading over my face as I thought back to one or two recent - and highly satisfactory - encounters with others of his Kind, "You must try it yourself sometime."

By now, the Satyr's protruding cock, dramatically ribbed and veined, was a delightful pink against his dark curls and her dark skin. The woman slid down onto his lap, skillfully guiding the immense dick straight into her moistened vagina, taking an astonishingly large fraction of his length inside herself.

Next to me, Selene gasped, seeing just how much of his cock the black woman was determined to enjoy. In moments, she was already working her way up to her first orgasm, forcing herself down on his cock again and again, and crying out expressions of encouragement and ecstasy in equal measure. The evidence of the Satyr's oral enthusiasm was apparent in the vestiges of silver lipstick all around his mouth.

Our stop arrived, the Metro rumbling to a halt. The doors hissed open. I nudged Selene, who was still engrossed in the spectacle at the far end of the carriage, and guided her onto the platform. Even after the doors closed and the Metro car had begun to pull out of the station, the black woman was still energetically bouncing up and down on the Satyr's lap, her face still twisted into paroxysms of delight. Good for her, I thought.

Part 3

It was a short walk from the Metro station to Mom's place, the sun shining on the ancient, carefully-preserved buildings that made this district such a fashionable one in which to live.

"How frequently do you see your Mom?" Selene asked curiously as we navigated the streets in the direction of the converted warehouse that housed her apartment.


"Not particularly often," I explained, "Although we get on very well. She has her own life and I have mine. Besides, I don't always have the money for the Metro tickets."

"But you've got tickets now," he pressed.

"True, although I've just used the last ones," I said, laughing "And one day I'll tell you what I had to do to get that Metro pass!"

I bounced up the stairs to Mom's apartment, followed by Sis. The door opened at my touch, the PA no doubt having informed Mom of my intention to visit. Mom was reclining on a couch, but stood up as we entered, moving across the room to greet me with warm embraces, and to be introduced to Selene with, I was delighted to see, equally warm kisses.

I told Mom a shortened version of the story of my trip to Eden, and the way I had snatched Selene from under the noses of the Reverend and his enforces. As I was speaking, Gary appeared in the entrance to the kitchen - one of Mom's old-fashioned affections that she likes so much - wearing a very masculine-looking apron, a wide smile and - as far as I could see - nothing else.

"Hi," he said in a friendly fashion, "Can I get you ladies something to eat?"

Selene turned and looked at me, as if wondering whether to accept his offer - or perhaps wondering exactly what was on offer. I did not think it was the time to explain the properties of Gary's Kind - he was a Seal - so I just smiled back at her.

"Go ahead," I suggested, "He really is an excellent cook."

Selene, much to my surprise, offered to help in the kitchen. Perhaps she felt she would be making herself useful, or maybe she just wanted to eye up Mom's toy-boy without interruption.

With Sis amusing herself elsewhere, it was time to talk things over with Mom, explaining about my desire to throw a welcome party - a swinging party - for Selene, Dragon's offer to pay the expenses and Madame Maxine's willingness to host the event at the Chromium Shaft Club. I also whispered the secret part of the plan - the part I had not explained to my sister - which caught Mom's imagination immediately,


judging by the calculating grin that appeared on her face. Finally, I begged Mom to use her friends, acquaintances and contacts to ensure the maximum possible coverage of the party.

To my delight, Mom declared herself immediately keen to assist, and her organizational skills immediately swung into action with gusto. She stood rigidly still for a few moments, in that absent pose one instinctively adopts when the automation is throwing a large amount of information into your line of vision.

After a few seconds, she relaxed and sat languidly on one of the couches, a tall glass of sparkling white wine appearing by her left hand. She raised her glass to Selene, sipped the wine, then started dictating personalized notes and reeling off invitations to a long list of names, many self-evidently nicknames and very few of which I recognized.

I was delighted to hear that she was describing Selene as her daughter, even though this was not even slightly true - a white lie that anyone could see through in a trice with a simple query of the automation. She explained in a few words about the rescue from the Eden Commune, certainly enough so that anyone could easily find out more from the automation.

The next few hours passed in a blur of activity. Selene and Gary emerged shortly afterwards from the kitchen, carrying plates of food - scrambled eggs for me, a particular favorite. Selene was looking just a little hot and flushed, an effect that I was quite convinced had nothing to do with the heat in the kitchen and much more to do with the strength and flexibility of Gary's tongue.

There were yet more invitations to send, and Mom was tireless in adapting the invites to each potential guest, prompted by the infallible memory of the automation. I also sent a great many invitations: Steve and Renie, of course, and my friends from the lakeside picnic, and Kim the Andie too, and all the other acquaintances, lovers and sexual partners I could remember.

Later on, Mom pulled out a couple of party dresses from her considerable collection - all shiny and shimmery and sexy - for Selene and myself, and dressed herself in an elaborate confection of an outfit that nevertheless managed to display


an astonishing amount of leg and cleavage. Gary also dressed for the part, in that classic black tie style made famous by the Chippendales, a look which, with his oiled and bronzed torso, he carried off to perfection.

Sparing no expense, Mom summoned a private hire car to transport the four of us to the Club, sweeping down her own stairs like an ancient High Priestess followed by three earnest acolytes. It was going to be a night to remember.

Part 4

"Everyone who is anyone is here," Mom said delightedly, "I didn't invite half of these people, and I'd never have been able to get most of them to one of my parties ordinarily."

Mom had performed wonders to get the celebrities and the rich-and-famous, and the bloggers and zine reporters to attend, but the results seemed to exceed even her wildest expectations. The main hall at the Chromium Shaft Club was packed to the rafters, all thanks to her magnificent, miraculous efforts.

We were standing in the darkened wings of the nearly circular stage at the centre of the auditorium, looking up at the excited crowd all around us. The staff and greeters - my colleagues and co-workers - were circulating energetically, making sure that drinks and drugs and foodstuffs were being supplied to guests, and that the more portable of the Club's inventory of sex toys and machines were being deployed to best advantage.

Speaking in the fashion used to address the PA - no sound, and lips barely moving, I asked the automation if Johnny was nearby in person or if he was remotely observing the activities at the Club. I had not seen him in person in the audience, but there were so many people that I could easily have missed him. The automation whispered in my ear: he was not present, but was indeed following the proceedings at a distance, sitting in the 'Bucks that he used as an office.

Madame Maxine stood nearby, with Kitty - as always - waiting at her elbow. Madame nodded to me, then stepped out into the center of the stage, announced by a low-key musical introduction. Stage lights followed her, making her


stand out in everyone's attention. The noise level dropped markedly.

"Friends," she said, her voice subtly amplified by the automation, "Welcome to our party and indeed welcome to the Chromium Shaft Club."

A ripple of polite applause ran around the room.

"Let me introduce your host for this evening," she continued, "My dear friend, Brandon O'Reilly."

Madame held out her hand and Dragon, dressed in one of his trademark kimonos, stepped out onto the stage. The applause was louder this time, and Maxine bowed out into the shadows leaving the focus entirely on the man.

"Thank you all for coming," he began, "As Madame Maxine has already said, welcome to our party - a party to welcome Selene, my long-lost daughter."

He gestured and Selene emerged into the limelight, to much louder applause.

"Selene has recently been restored to us, from a lifetime's exile, in a place out of our world, a place of peril and death," be said slowly in his deep voice.

The room was silent, everyone following Dragon's words. Those who wished to know more could ask for a précis from the automation. This would have been formed from a combination of direct observation - readily available for those things that occurred in our world - and my descriptions and reports, made earlier to Dragon and Mom and Renie, of exactly what happened inside the Eden Commune.

"She was rescued from her peril by none other than my other Daughter, Tania." he continued, gesturing for me to join him.

I stepped onto the stage to louder and more prolonged applause. Selene and I stood together, holding hands, turning to face different parts of the auditorium. Selene was smiling widely, tears in her eyes, and I am sure my own eyes were just a little moist. Clearly, many of those attending had accessed some description of recent events. The applause went on and on. Finally, Dragon held up his hands and the clapping diminished.


"So, as a celebration, Selene and Tania wish to enjoy with you a good old-fashioned gang-bang," he concluded, "Please, my dear friends and honored guests, I hope as many of you as possible will join in the fun here on-stage and help us to properly welcome my daughter to our world."

This announcement was met with a roar of approval, and an eruption of movement as the more enthusiastic guests started to make their way down to stage level. Meanwhile, more lights appeared on the stage, illuminating two raised and padded daises. Moving in synchronization, Selene and I slipped out of the shiny, shimmery, dresses we had been wearing, leaving them as heaps of brightly-colored material on the floor and us entirely naked.

We held each other's hands, then embraced, kissing and pressing our breasts together. Then we separated, moving to our individual platforms and reclining gracefully on them.

"So," Selene cried, "Who will it be? Who will be the first to welcome me properly?"

Renie scampered over, tearing off the short pleated skirt she wore - her breasts were already uncovered and bouncing extravagantly. Selene took her cock in one hand, guiding it to her mouth. Renie was joined almost immediately by Steve, first bending to lick Selene’s pussy before standing, lifting and separating her legs with both hands and driving his hard member inside her.

Soon, nearly everyone was waiting to enjoy Selene or myself. I was understandably rather distracted by the attention I was getting - it was ages since I had had so many people come inside me and over me in such a short period. As far as I could see, Selene was fucking all-comers with abandon, sucking first this dick and then that one, fingering this anus and that pussy, all while her own lower openings were penetrated by cock and tongue and finger interchangeably. She was surrounded, as I was, by many others - men and women and other Kinds - all masturbating furiously, the men and shemales more often than not coming over our breasts and our faces.

I felt sure it was only a matter of time before the Reverend and his cronies arrived. Sure enough, it was less than twenty minutes after the introduction - barely enough time for a couple of orgasms - their party arrived. They


walked out of the darkness and stepped directly onto the edge of the stage unhindered, Madame Maxine having given instructions for the automation to allow anyone to attend the occasion. Their heavy black clothing was in stark contrast to the near-nakedness to practically everyone else in the room.

I recognized two of the men that accompanied him - and they were all men - from my visit to the commune. They made no attempt to approach or intercept Selene, or anyone else for that matter, obviously aware of the capability of the automation to police the situation. Indeed, they seemed to want to keep as far away as possible, as if they did not want to be too close - or, at least, they wanted to be seen not to be wanting to get too close.

"Sister Selene," he orated, "I have come for you, to take you away from this den of vice and inequity."

Selene rolled off her dais, looking suddenly shocked and embarrassed, while the men and women who had been enjoying the delights of her body stepped aside politely. Her face was flushed, her eyes wide and blinking aside the cum on her face. She looked uncertain, lost, suddenly once again a slave to her upbringing.

"No," I shouted, my voice reverberating around the room, "You belong here."

"Yes, stay with us!" a voice sounded from the crowd nearby. I could not be sure, but I suspected it was Steve. Others shouted out, at first sporadically, but the room soon erupted into a noisy buzz which then dissolved into a chant.

"Stay! Stay!" the crowd bayed in encouragement.

The Reverend looked utterly furious, and his cohort seemed confused and discomforted, whether by the noisy crowd or by the display of wanton nakedness I could not tell.

"You will come with us!" The Reverend bellowed, his face red and his eyes bulging, "You have sinned, transgressed, but you can still be saved."

"You are always welcome here," I countered, in a gentle tone that nevertheless carried to everyone's ears, "You have done nothing wrong."


The chanting from the audience in the Club grew to a noisy crescendo. Selene drew herself up straight and turned again to face the Reverend, a wry smile growing on her face.

"No, thank you all the same," she said calmly, quietly, although her voice too was carried to the far reaches of the chamber, "I will stay here, with my friends. This is where I belong."

The noise and cheering from the crowd grew louder still. I rushed to Selene, still standing proudly in the centre of the stage, pressed myself against her - the cum decorating her breasts lubricating my nipples excitingly - and gave her a deep passionate kiss. This caused at least one man who was waiting nearby, stroking his erection in readiness to fuck the famous sisters, to come immediately, ejaculating hard in an impressive spurt that splattered on the naked thighs of two men who stood in front of him, hand in hand, awaiting their turn.

The Reverend glared hatefully at Selene, took in the rest of the room with one sweep of his head, then turned on his heel and stalked out. He was followed closely by his associates, now huddled together sheepishly as if for protection from the howling mob.


Volume 16 – Welcome to the World

Part 1

After the Reverend’s departure with his tail between his legs, the remainder of the party was a complete blast. Both Selene and I ended up being shagged to the point of near-insensibility and I, at least, had lost count of the number of orgasms I had experienced. After that, the affair devolved into an orgy, with friends and acquaintances and complete strangers fucking each other with abandon.

Later on, Selene and I sat together on a large couch being interviewed by countless numbers of reporters and bloggers, and by the most curious of the party guests. Both Dragon and Madame Maxine intervened from time to time, to deflect the most persistent interrogator or idiotic question, but in general we were happy to repeat our tale, with surprisingly little embellishment, and offer our opinions on topics diverse and curious.

Our fame, or at least notoriety, continued to spread, even after the party. The news of Selene's escape, or rescue, or release - whatever the correct description is - was the talk of the blogs for weeks afterwards; there was relentless interest from the news channels and reporters alike, and anyone who knew me even slightly before the rescue seemed keen to extend their acquaintance and to meet Selene, of course. I was informed, after I remembered to enquire of the automation, that at any one time, hundreds or even thousands of people were observing us - remotely, of course, facilitated by the PA - even weeks after the incident.

We received a great many invitations to visit for dinner, or a party, or an orgy: far too many for us to take up more than a miniscule number of them. Even so, as the invitations flowed in, I was keen to show Selene as much of the city and its peoples as I reasonably could. She too was enthusiastic about this project, and we busied ourselves filling our joint social calendar with a whirlwind of activities.


One invitation we did accept was from the artist Jackie Yamamoto, for whom I had once delivered a package. His terse note, addressed to both of us and delivered by the automation, read: "Please join me for a poolside lunch, and later a viewing of my recent artworks."

I spoke a short acceptance, which was transcribed and grammatically corrected by the automation into the elegant cursive script I prefer before being whisked away for delivery.

The morning for our lunch date arrived. Our visit involved a fairly long trip on the Metro, with just a single change at a downtown station. As I have previously observed, travel by Metro is a surprisingly fun way of observing other people enjoying themselves, and even taking part in an occasional encounter or two.

Selene and I wiled away the time chatting, holding hands and kissing occasionally, and otherwise indulging in a little people-watching. Having spent so long in a cloistered environment, Selene is sometimes a little nervous in crowds, although she seems to be getting over that, judging by a variety of recent experiences. But she does have a continued fascination with the different Kinds that our society includes, as well as the kinds of sex that people of all shapes enjoy.

The Metro cars pulled up and the doors slid open. We stepped on board and made our way to a pair of empty seats in the middle of the carriage. In the seating opposite, two men in old-fashioned but well-tailored business suits sat together, kissing passionately.

One man, tall and dark-skinned with a mass of dreadlocks tumbling over his crisp white linen shirt collar, had just slid one hand inside the other's opened trousers and loosened his already-hard dick which now protruded visibly from between his legs. Within moments, the dark-haired man had bent low into the other's lap, apparently cupping his balls and sucking on his cock before drawing back momentarily to lick his helmet which I could see was now glistening with saliva.

The other man - shorter and sandy-haired with just a suggestion of boyish freckles on his face, and with blocky and powerful shoulders filling his suit jacket - lay back, clearly appreciating the oral attentions of his acquaintance so


thoroughly that I thought he might be at risk that his head might bang on the glass of the windows behind him. Selene nudged me surreptitiously and giggled into my ear when she caught the eye of the cock-sucking man as he tossed back his long heavy locks, better to take the other man's cock deep in his throat.

Unfortunately, before I could discover exactly how their games would end, we arrived at the stop where Selene and I must alight in order to transfer to line J. I stepped onto the platform and looked back over my shoulder as the doors closed with a hiss and the carriages started to move again. Through the windows, I could just glimpse the dark-haired man, now himself laying back on the seating. The sandy-haired man had disappeared from view, no doubt now returning the oral favors.

Best for all concerned to change and change about, I thought, just like everything else in the world.

Part 2

The Metro platform where Selene and I had just alighted was quite busy with commuters and shoppers. I took Selene's hand and together we edged our way towards the exit and the connection to our next train. The short connecting corridor opened up into a large public space, high-ceilinged and brightly lit, even though I knew it was several tens of meters below ground.

Shops and outlets of all kinds edged the square, and were huddled in clusters here and there. In one of the open spaces in between, a small crowd had already begun to gather. On a whim, I guided Sis in the direction of the crowd and edged our way to the front. In the circle formed by the audience, a troupe of exotic dancers - or at least entertainers of some kind - were going through a series of warm-up movements. I glanced at Selene, who grinned back at me, clearly keen to see what kind of performance was to be forthcoming.

The troupe members were an equal mixture of male and female - none of the troupe seemed to diverge from the classic bipolar nature as far as I could tell. They were dressed with only tassel-decorated nipples and the skimpiest of thongs for both men and women, and were uniformly all exceptionally tall, exceptionally thin and, even more


astonishingly, exceptionally flexible. Even during their warm-up exercises, Selene and I marveled at the kind of position they could adopt without apparent strain: one formed herself into a backward crab position and scurried about on the floor, while another stood flat on one foot and raising the other directly above his head.

The sound of dance music boomed out, something that all in the vicinity could hear, unless of course they chose to have the PA block the noise. Judging by the way heads turned, few of the passers-by seemed compelled to suppress the soundtrack. The troupe sprang into a well-rehearsed routine, some of the members turning somersaults and cartwheels, throwing each other in the air and catching them adriotly, and even forming wheels in pairs and triplets before rolling around the floor. Others mimed sexual activities in time to the music, not actually consummating their movements, although I fully admit that their abundant energy and evident enthusiasm was infectious.

"What are they?" my sister asked in a whisper.

Good question, I thought. I did not recognize their Kind at all, although I was reasonably sure they were not merely Norms. The automation, immediately identifying our uncertainty, flashed up that they were a mixture of Cats and Ragdolls. These were two Kinds I had not come across before, but it was clear that both were significantly augmented for strength and movements impossible to Norms or, for that matter, for other Kinds like myself.

Belatedly, I realized that they were busking, entertaining the passers-by by way of an advertisement for their services, their show, whatever they were offering to those who were willing to buy. No doubt a more elaborate and erotic show could be arranged at a suitable price. Anyone could find out more by a moment's interrogation of the PA, although right now I was more interested in the timetable information the PA was projecting for me.

"We gotta go," I hissed to Selene urgently, "We don't want to miss our connection."

With some effort, I dragged her away. We hurried along another underground passageway, arriving just as the train was pulling into the station.


This was the longer part of the trip. The carriages started fairly full, although Selene and I were able to snag a couple of seats. The crush thinned out rapidly as the train made its way out of the city centre and into the suburbs. Most of our fellow passengers sat quietly, or even slept as the Metro rattled along; for the most part, they appeared to be revelers returning home after a evening on the tiles, or more likely a night in someone else's bed.

One man awoke with a jump as the Metro began to slow, clearly roused by the automation just in time for him to get off at the right stop. A woman was chatting to an invisible friend, the communication mediated effortlessly by the PA. I could see her lips move, although the automation prevented the sound of her voice from disturbing the slumbering travelers around her.

Another woman was obviously trying out some recent purchases, opening first one little package containing a highly-decorated bottle and then another. As I watched from the corner of my eye, the woman scooped up her breasts, releasing them from the strappy top of the summery green dress she wore. She then rubbed a little of the first liquid into her cleavage and around her nipples, which made her skin shimmer and glisten with pale gold flecks.

Pleased with the result, she tugged up the hem of her dress and rubbed some of the second bottle into the lips between her legs. Her pussy darkened to a deep glossy red, almost the crimson of ripe cherries. The body paint combination was particular fetching, I thought, a very attractive look and one that certainly made me want to run my tongue over her lips to see if they tasted as good as they looked.

Before I could make any move to appreciate the woman's taste from a much closer range, the train pulled into the final stop. The woman calmly packed away her shopping and adjusted her dress before standing up and making her way to the doors. Selene and I followed her onto the platform where she was greeted by a couple - a man and a woman, both Norms - who embraced her warmly before escorting her arm-in-arm towards the exit.


Shortly afterwards, Sis and I also emerged from the Metro station blinking in the bright sunlight. The surroundings all looked vaguely familiar after my last visit.

"This way," I said, pointing.

We set off for a walk in the sunshine, chatting gaily.

Part 3

Perhaps ten days before, Dragon had bought me the Reel Fur(TM) coat that I had so coveted. Selene was so delighted for me, as she knew more than anyone just how much I wanted the item when I saw it in the shop window. Perhaps the gift was meant as some kind of reward, although to be honest he need not have bothered, since the company of my sister is more than reward enough for me. Or perhaps just because he understood that I liked it and in any case the money probably meant nothing to him.

I wore my new coat as frequently as I could - it was too hot to wear today - and it was so sensual a feeling that I never wanted to wear anything underneath.

The first time I put it on, I strutted about the apartment admiring myself in the virtual wall-to-wall mirrors that the PA had flashed into existence - formed of tiny reflective patches directly in my eye line which were created and destroyed as my eyeballs moved, all to give the impression of a continuous reflective surface surrounding me.

The golden fur-substitute had proved to be irresistibly attractive to both Renie and Selene, who had been both watching me wide-eyed, sitting cross-legged and nude on the bedroom futon we now often shared, surrounded by the litter of packaging. Both of them wanted to try it on, which of course I was more than happy to do for my friends. I slipped it off, enjoying the sensuous feeling on my shoulders - and leaving me naked - and handed it to Selene.

My sister sprang up from the mattress to take the heavy coat from my arms. She ran her fingertips over it, relishing the authentically slightly-irregular feel of the fur created, no doubt, with nanoscopic precision by the automated manufacturing process. She slipped it on, feeling the silky lining against her skin and twirling around to look at herself in much the same way as I had been moments before.


Renie stood as well and moved behind Selene, rubbing her shoulders and waist and breasts through the fabric and allowing the artificial hairs to brush up against her nipples. The sensation made her cock stiffen immediately, I could see, and Selene must have felt it too, as she arched her back and pressed her ass back against the bulge behind her.

"Let me try it on now," she breathed into Selene's ear.

Selene acceded, letting the coat slide from her shoulders. Renie caught the fur and slipped it around her. Just as we had, she strutted to and fro, swirling the hem of the coat this way and that. Both Selene and I were amused by the way her dick, now wonderfully hard and erect, protruded from the furry folds. I could not resist sucking that delightful dick that I knew so well.

Selene knelt to join me, concentrating on the pussy lips that Renie has as well as a cock - lucky girl! - in place of the balls that a Norm would sport. Renie let out a gasp of pleasure, then swept the folds of the fur coat around both our shoulders forming a dark and intimate tent. It was so dark that I could barely even see Selene's face next to me, and all sounds were muffled by the heavy fur. I found myself enjoying with distractions the feel and taste and smell of my dear friend's erect penis.

Renie really appreciated the dual attention to her most sensitive places. I could feel the muscles in her legs tense, and her cock - small but beautifully formed - stiffen further in my mouth. Selene's mouth and tongue worked energetically on Renie's pussy lips, and I redoubled my efforts, taking Renie's cock deep into my throat again and again.

Renie came hard, screaming loud enough to be heard even under the furs and spurting her delightful juices in my throat for me to swallow. She sagged back onto the futon with Selene and I falling on top of her, all of us still swathed in the voluminous folds of the coat, and my sister and I giggling in unison.

I was so engrossed in chatting to Selene about the delightful coat and our reaction to it that I was automatically following the markers displayed - for my eyes only - by the Mapz(TM).


"How do you know where to go?" Selene asked as we wandered hand-in-hand along the quiet and shady streets that meandered between mature trees and manicured lawns that bounded the estates and grounds of the well-to-do.

It had not occurred to me that she did not know about the VAPAware I had acquired a few months before nor, for that matter, exactly what I had had to do to acquire it.

"Well, I have been here before, once," I admitted, "But the PA is helping me, too."

She looked puzzled. I realized that, although she was aware of the pervasive automation - how could she not be? - she did not know that some services - basic rights like health and food and safety - were provided free for all, and others were paid-for. I explained to Selene about the Value-Added services known as VAPAware, how I had earned myself a subscription to the Mapz(TM) service, and indeed how this whole industry contributed to Dragon's continuing wealth.

By now, we were once again approaching the entrance to the old-money mansion occupied by Jackie Yamamoto. The ornate black and gold gates stood open, flanked by neatly-trimmed hedges and ancient-looking walls of sun-warmed masonry. Selene seemed faintly alarmed by the massive gates, perhaps remembering the near-prison where she had been brought up. I squeezed her hand reassuringly, and she followed me with only the slightest hesitation, bucking up noticeably when the gates failed to close behind her.

The front of the grand house was quiet, even tranquil. As on my previous visit, the front door was closed and there was no movement visible through the glass windows. Unhesitatingly, I directed Selene around the side of the house, following the sounds of splashing and giggling, which turned to low moans as we made our way along the path.

The woman I knew as Charlene was sitting on the edge of the pool with her feet in the sparkling water. She was leaning back with her arms behind her, her head tossed back and her golden hair cascading behind her. Her legs were wide apart and the head of a blond tanned man was buried between them.

At the sound of our approach, the blond-haired man - I remembered unprompted that his name was Bruce - stopped


what he was doing and looked up, standing upright in the warm water of the pool. He licked his lips and grinned. Charlene tossed her blonde locks and turned her head to face us, also grinning.

"Hi, Tania," she said with characteristic brightness, "We've been expecting you."

Part 4

Charlene lifted her legs from the pool and stood up, smiling at us both as we approached. She embraced me, planting a warm kiss on my lips and pressing the sun-warmed flesh of her naked breasts against me.

"And you must be Selene," she said, turning to my sister, "I've been looking forward to meeting you."

Her brother pulled himself from the pool in one fluid movement, his shoulder muscles rippling under his tan.

"You remember Bruce?" Charlene said to me.

I nodded, admiring his athletic body and tanned skin. I glanced at Selene, who returned my look with a grin as wide as Charlene's. I shrugged my shoulders, bowing to the inevitable.

"Let's swim!" I suggested perkily.

Selene rapidly pulled off the light summery dress she had been wearing and tossed it aside carelessly - she now knew that the automation would effortlessly find and present her with the garment when she next needed it. She dived into the pool, swam several strokes underwater before her head emerged. She turned to face us, pulling her wet hair away from her face.

"Come on then!" she called, "What are you waiting for?"

Both Bruce and Charlene dived in after her and chased after her, while Selene attempted to swim away to the far side of the pool. As I watched, the three of them engaged in a certain amount of horseplay, splashing each other energetically and chasing each other around the pool, accompanied with many giggles and playful taunts.

I unzipped my skirt and slipped out of my sleeveless jacket, and made my way carefully down the wide steps at the shallow end of the pool. The three naked swimmers


came up and splashed at me, and I returned the favor with gusto. Then they chased each other into the deeper water while I watched, amused by their antics, then Selene left the other two flicking water at each other and swam back to me.

"Are you OK?" she asked, a note of concern in her voice.

"Yes, I'm fine," I answered, "It's just that I don't swim very well. My feet are the wrong shape."

Selene's face made a soundless 'O' of surprise, her eyes wide.

"I'm fine here," I assured her, "Go chase the others."

Over the next few minutes, the games in the pool changed from splashing and giggling to fondling and kissing. Bruce swam to the edge and pulled himself out, then reached down and grabbed a hand each from both girls, pulling them smoothly from the water in a grand display of macho muscularity.

The three of them collapsed laughing onto a sun-lounger. Both Bruce and Charlene seemed keen to explore the delights of their new friend. I emerged from the pool dripping, and skipped over to join in the fun. Bruce was obviously, impressively, already excited, and all three of us took a turn at sucking his manhood, between bouts of licking tits and massaging pussy.

Selene stood up, with her legs spread very wide, gripping the shaft of one of the pool-side umbrellas that dotted the decking. Charlene knelt in front of her, her fingers inside Selene's cunt and her mouth alternately licking Selene's clit and kissing me. Charlene and I shared the task, our cheeks pressed together so that we could both stimulate her clit with our tongues.

Meanwhile, Bruce knelt behind her, his hands separating her ass cheeks while energetically licking her ass, slipping his tongue repeatedly into her anus as a prelude to fucking her there. She was evidently enjoying the moral attention immensely, judging by the way she moaned and just how wet she was getting.

Bruce stood behind her, his cock hard and dripping and began to ease himself inside her rear opening. Selene was writhing with pleasure now, her pussy being forced against


our faces by the force of Bruce's increasingly vigorous thrusts. She came hard, wave after wave of intense feeling racking her body, crying out, gasping, her body quivering with released tension.

As Selene sagged back onto the sun-lounger, I noticed Jackie Yamamoto approaching from the direction of the main house. I suspected that none of the rest of the party had noticed him, as they were so engrossed in one another. Jackie caught my eye, and beckoned to me with a wave of his hand. Leaving Selene with Bruce and Charlene, I extricated myself deftly and made my way across the poolside decking.

Following Jackie, I entered the main room of the house, where lights blazed as bright as the sun outside. In the center of the floor, a statue took pride of place. It was, I could see clearly, a rendition of Selene: her relentless approach to orgasm had been captured in stone by the artistry of Jackie Yamamoto, another tribute to his talents for sexual sculpture.

It closely resembled a figurehead on the bowsprit of an antique sailing vessel. Selene was bent forward, arms clutching a pole. Her upper body was picked out in exquisite detail, with every curve and fold rendered perfectly in the cool grey stone, and her face in that beautiful ecstasy of incipient orgasm.

Her lower portion, from her waist down, was abstracted, simplified and rendered in a finish that suggested that it had been hewn from solid rock with crude hand tools. I could make out that she was surrounded by three other people, kneeling or squatting on every side, and I could just tell that mouths were pressed against her most sensitive places. But when I looked again, it was as if Selene's body was escaping from the dead rock, like something wonderfully miraculous escaping like a butterfly from a chrysalis.

There was something else in the Jackie's sculpture of Selene, too - something that I found hard to describe at first. Finally, I realized that it elicited a wonderful sense of freedom, a release from a grinding oppressive drudgery, and a sense of being really, truly, joyously alive for the very first time.

"Do you like it?" Jackie asked.


"I do," I breathed, "It's marvelous, absolutely magnificent. Does it have a title yet?"

"Yes," he replied, clearly pleased with my reaction, "It's called 'Welcome to the World'."

The End

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21/05/2010 22:22

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The Marquis Doll Adventures