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Message-ID: <50004asstr$1104009002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: El Sol <munster@eden.rutgers.edu>
Subject: {ASSM} Below and Above: A Fable of Lust by ElSol (2/3) (MF, hint of MC)
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Date: Sat, 25 Dec 2004 16:10:02 -0500
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        This email address is NOT read. If you wish to contact me please
do so ONLY at munster(at)remus(dot)rutgers(dot)edu.

	Thank you
	ElSol

<1st attachment, "2incubus.txt" begin>

Incubus:



   I stepped out of the shower and stood in front of the mirror staring at
my body.

   Well...  I stared at my dick mostly.

   The rest of me was worth more than a cursory glance as evidenced by the
way women looked at me now, but the jutting edifice between my legs
commanded attention.

   I changed since L's entrance into my life months before.  The changes
happened so slowly that I barely noticed them at first; L's sexual appetite
made for a distraction that did not let me pay attention to details.  I did
not notice growing two inches taller, the twenty-five pounds of fat
becoming muscle, my skin tone gaining a luxurious hue, or the hairline
making a late inning rally.  The cock thing was impossible to miss after a
while though, especially since it only 'technically' qualified as a dick
when I met L.

   Adjusting to L glowing in amorous situations, and invisible hands
holding me down while she had her way was easier to adjust to than I would
have thought.

   I was stunned the morning after my first sexual experience with L, but
my housemate removed any thought that glowing or invisible helpers were
worse than a rash in a tender place.  I walked into my house that afternoon
to find a hypnotized housemate in the living room; L was lying naked on the
couch flipping through channels.  I gave my housemate a look meant to chase
him away, which he blithely ignored to continue drooling over the new
entertainment center shaped like a gorgeous woman that followed me home and
stayed.

   L asked for a glass of water.

   I figured the vicious chop block I put on my housemate's bad knee to
slow him down so I could fulfill her request proved that glowing was not an
insurmountable issue.  I offered L the glass proudly while my competitor
writhed on the ground trying not to whimper.

   She rewarded my victory on the couch.

   Normally, I would not have been such an exhibitionist, but the invisible
hands did not give me a choice.  After that, I accepted that L's minor
idiosyncrasies were really none of my business.

   It took three weeks for me to notice that my sexual equipment had become
an appendage rather than an add-on.

   Initially, I scoffed.

   The angle was different; it is not like a woman on her knees in the
shower had sucked me off very often or ever.  It REALLY liked L, and IT had
never liked a woman so much or so often therefore its enthusiasm could be
understood.  More sex means a healthier limb was my last stand; I read sex
manuals hoping for the impossible, but accepting the common medical stance
that a willie does not get bigger.

   Cancerous growth!

   The thought scared me so I visited the doctor, who finally convinced me
that medical science did not account for L.

   I prefer female doctors but mine was on vacation so I had to visit one
that was not familiar with my limitations.  It was embarrassing to explain
so I cut out most of the details and settled on 'feeling achy down there'.

   The doctor was lovely in a bookish fashion and focused on making sure
she missed nothing in her investigation of what might be causing my
discomfort.

   She had a hands-on approach that raised the issue right away.

   The doctor did not alleviate my fears with anything she said, but with
her actions.  She wrote down notes with her left-hand even though it was
obvious she was right-handed.  I had an epiphany watching her; the doctor
could not take her primary hand off me.

   I looked down and watched her stroke me to full-size and then continue.
I leaned back as her writing hand joined the one ministering to me.  My
head dropped back a few minutes later as my body surged and shot.

   "Everything seems to be in working order!" the doctor said excitedly
while washing her hands off in the nearby sink.  "You had some buildup, but
if you continue to feel uncomfortable come back and we'll take a closer
look."

   Buildup, a proper medical symptom?!?  Where was this doctor when my mom
caught me spanking it?

   Being male, the situation was well out of hand by the time I decided to
visit a doctor so I could only ride it out from that point on.  I finally
noticed that the change closest to my heart was far from the only one.

   Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I reached down and grabbed
what had become a perpetually erect cock.  It had gotten bigger since my
visit to the doctor.

   The size of the thing was not an easy adjustment to make.

   First, there were the pants that no longer fit; I was not fond of
shopping.

   Second, the thing kept bumping into other things.  I could not turn
without checking so that I did not knock anything over.

   Third, it was extremely unbalancing making me afraid that if I spun
around too fast I would go flying like an Olympic hammer thrower that was
strapped to their hammer.

   By far, the worst was a certain little known fact that I am sure medical
science will someday prove.  The male brain and penis share a common blood
pool, so a hard-on causes the male brain to run low on processing power.

   Stephanie Adita proved that to me.

   People in a college change constantly so my transformation went
unnoticed.  The professors in my department hated me for the critical
success I achieved and avoided me while students are not well known for the
attention they pay professors.

   Stephanie was a freshman that immediately caught my eye.  She had a way
of swaying her hips when she walked that spoke of how confident she was
about her attractiveness.

   She did not think very highly of my creative writing class, and had
taken it believing it would be an easy A.  It would have been if she had
done the required writings.  I did not ask for Hemingway; it was enough
that students tried as long as they handed the work in.

   I knew the drill as soon as Miss Adita asked to meet so we could discuss
her grade.  It had happened before, and I wondered when students would
realize that most professors prepared canned responses to the desperate
pleas to save collegiate lives.

   I sighed when Stephanie chose the flirtation angle in my office the next
day.  I could have saved both of us time by handing her the assignment I
had for the situation.  It was an easy thing; to make up for all the work
missed the student had to hand in one large product that equaled the entire
required page-count for the semester.  My higher level writing class got
the offer at the beginning of the semester, but I thought it too dangerous
an option for kids that had not realized how powerful the gravitational
pull of procrastination was yet.

   Stephanie flashed her dark eyes at me and gave me a smile that must have
melted hearts in high school.  I knew she thought a little flirting with
the promise of more would get her what she wanted without having to cross
any lines.

   I had seen the game played before so I ignored the words to study her.
Stephanie was a couple of inches over five feet with nice feminine curves.
Her dark skin added an exotic touch to a sexy package.

   "So is there anything I can do to bring up my grade?" she asked huskily.

   I noticed the room was a little darker than when she came in, and sighed
at the thought of rain.

   "Sir?" Stephanie asked pushing for an answer.

   My hand rested on top of the assignment that I planned to give her, but
instead of handing it to her I stood up.  I walked around to her side of
the table and leaned back.

   I was dressed comfortably in baggy jeans and a button-down shirt.  The
jeans were one of the few articles of clothing that had survived the
changes.  The crotch was loose enough to give me freedom, but did nothing
to hide it when I was aroused.

   Stephanie's night dark eyes drifted to the obvious and widened.  She sat
back suddenly tense and looking trapped.  I had never partaken of the
hinted offers of the coeds in my classes, but that was about to change.

   "You're going to fail my class, Stephanie," I told her seriously.

   "But..." she started to say but stopped when I raised my hand for
silence.

   I did not care; I wanted her.

   "You're going to fail my class," I pushed mercilessly.

   I extended a hand out to her as a lifeline.  Her eyes were scared as she
put her hand in mine.  I pulled Stephanie to her feet, and then tight
against my body.  Her heartbeat fluttered madly, unsure what rhythm to
settle into, as the storm clouds seemed to gather outside my window.

   A small part of my brain screamed about losing my job, but hung as
another part of my body demanded more blood.

   I put my hands on Stephanie's womanly hips and straightened her body so
I could press my groin against hers.  She opened her mouth to speak a
protest that became a heady kiss when my lips touched her mouth.  Her
fingers dug into my hair as I palmed her ass and pulled her closer. 
Stephanie broke the kiss so I burrowed my face against her neck.  Her hips
circled, applying pressure on me as I kissed and nibbled her skin.  I spun
Stephanie around suddenly and put my hands on her belt.  She gasped but
recovered fast.  She got up on her toes so that she could rub her ass
against my desire to be inside her.  Her belt came undone easily and so did
her jeans.  She grabbed my hands as I worked her jeans down, but her body
could not decide whether it was to help or hinder.

   Her jeans and panties were around her knees when I pressed Stephanie
forward.  I had an old couch in the office and I made Stephanie kneel on
it. She put her head on the back waiting for whatever came.

   I stripped quickly and stepped up to Stephanie's ass.  Her knees were
together hiding her treasure from me.  I grabbed my dick and guided it
forward until I touched her.  I moved downwards until moisture kissed the
tip of my dick.

   Stephanie gasped as I powered forward with my hips.  I could only
penetrate a couple of inches into her, but it was enough to keep me on
point.  I grabbed Stephanie's hips, pulled mine back, and fucked into her
determined to make her body accept me.

   She was ready for sex so her pussy only protested my size, and not what
I was doing with it.  Stephanie took most of me, but it was still not
enough.  I tightened my grip, pulled halfway out, and rammed forward.

   Her head came up and she grunted trying to hold in a scream as her pussy
convulsed wetly.  I held her tightly, riding the waves of her pleasure
until Stephanie beached.

   I moved, fucking in and out of her slowly, when Stephanie's breathing
recovered.  She whimpered deliciously as I lengthened the strokes.  I
looked down enjoying the sight of my cock fucking into one of my students.

   Stephanie spent a long afternoon earning that easy A.

   L walked into the bathroom and wrapped her arms around my waist.  I
watched her hands move to my erection.  She stroked me slowly as she kissed
my shoulders.

   Somehow, I forgot about L and did not clean up before I headed home from
my meeting with Stephanie.  L stood up from the couch as soon as I walked
in.  She stared at me intently, but before I could confess to having been a
very bad boy with one of my students she pressed me up against the door. 
Her hands opened my pants, and she knelt to take me into her mouth.

   "She's not our type," L whispered after I had a dizzying orgasm.  "But
you should have brought her home for me to play with."

   Stephanie indirectly inspired my fourth book, 'A Small Penis'.  Many
things had changed since L entered my life, but I could not blame fucking a
student on some weight re-distribution, an encroaching hairline, or clearer
skin.  The thing between my legs, at least the arrogance of having
something for which the words dick and cock seemed small to describe, had
changed me.

   Fuck my housemate if he did not like watching L blow me during my
favorite TV show!  Fuck the university administration if they had a problem
with me giving extra credit for sexual favors!  Fuck any woman that wanted
me was exactly what I planned to do!

   The book was about living with feelings of inadequacy.  The critics
loved it; after all, who could have possibly related better.  The faculty
was amused and could not stop giving me looks like I had told them I
contracted cancer.  It was my best selling book, doing quite well as a gag
gift and a favorite parting shot from women towards their newly ex-ed
boyfriends.

   A new department head was appointed a month after my book came out.  He
was a smarmy little fuck that reminded me of the worst critics I ever met.
I wondered how he got the job without having published anything, until a
fellow associate professor showed me some of his old articles.

   The new head had been a famous literary critic.

   He threw a 'get to know my staff' party at his large home.  His family
left him a sizeable trust fund; unfortunately, they did not leave him the
taste or class that should come with old money.  L winced as soon as we
entered the man's house.  I was not surprised she kept her sunglasses on
since the colors clashed horrendously.

   The head appreciated a good-looking woman so he spent a lot of his time
around L.  His favorite word seemed to be 'inadequate', hinting at 'if your
man is as inadequate as his book says, I can take care of you'.

   The idiot's wife was an elegant blonde that gritted her teeth and bore
her husband's boorishness.

   "You don't actually have a small dick, do you?" she asked catching me
coming out of the upstairs bathroom.

   "Excuse me?" I asked.

   She surprised me by grabbing the front of my trousers.

   "Hold on," she whispered.

   Her fingers outlined me slowly and then stroked until she got all of my
attention.

   "I knew a man could not write that book and have a dick like my
husband's," she said heatedly.

   She squeaked in fear when L covered her mouth.

   "Ssshhhhh," L whispered.  "We wouldn't want your husband to come looking
for us, would we?"

   The head's wife eyes turned languid as she shook her head meaningfully.

   "This is more our type, Miguel," L told me kissing the woman's neck. 
"Too bad she's married, or we could keep her."

   "Are you ready to go?" L asked after she finished rinsing my cum down
the bathroom sink.

   More amazing than the new body was that I did not hate the rituals
needed to maintain it, or at least that I thought were needed to maintain
it.  After I lost the extra flab, L suggested I take advantage of the
school gym with her.  At the beginning, my enjoyment had more to do with a
naked, sweaty L on my bed afterwards, but within six months I started to
enjoy the quiet time I could get working out.

   L preferred getting there at 7am and I had no reason to protest anything
she wanted.  We were stretching on the mats after our workout when she
turned to me.

   "Which one of these do you think we should take home?" she asked.

   I raised an eyebrow.

   "I want a new playmate," she said smiling.

   I studied the occupants of the gym carefully.  The department head's
wife had not been a one-afternoon thing.  L and I fucked her seven ways to
Sunday in her husband's bed during the party, and she knocked on my door
the next day for more of the same.  A few months after our affair started,
the department head took her on extended vacation that everyone thought was
a last attempt to save their marriage.

   "The one behind the counter," I told L.

   The girl was pretty with long brown hair, hazel eyes, and a fit body.

   "No," L replied.

   "Why not?" I asked.

   "Look at her," L said moving behind me and grabbing my head.  "Really
look at her!"

   I studied the girl again but felt like something was pushing me away
from her; a good story with tragic grammar.  I shook my head and tried
again.

   "Now, look at her," L said turning my head towards a girl on a
Stairmaster.

   The lights darkened as I focused on the girl.  She was one of the few
that also enjoyed 7am workouts; watching her tight ass move up and down on
the Stairmaster made my workouts pass faster.  She had arrived late that
morning so I did not get my forty-five minutes with her ass; I had missed
those minutes.

   "Smell her," L instructed wrapping her arms around my neck.  "Breathe
her in."

   I did what she instructed.

   "Clean, pure," L whispered against my ear.  "A touch of innocence with a
healthy swath of lust."

   "She knows I watch her," I said surprised.  "She likes it."

   "You're a beautiful man, Miguel," L whispered.  "She loves your eyes on
her; the thought of your hands on her.  She laments that no one is taking
advantage of a body she worked so hard to build."

   The girl seemed to start glowing before my eyes; not like L who burned
with white light, but with a softer orange of desire.

   "She wants you to say hello," L told me before standing up and walking
out of the gym.

   I sat for a few minutes trying to think of what to say.  I could not
think of anything original or witty so I sighed and got up.  I passed her
Stairmaster when a touch of the girl's sweat-salted scent froze me.  I
turned and looked at her.

   She had big blue eyes and light brown hair that she recently cut short.
I walked up to the Stairmaster and smiled at her.  She pulled her headset
off looking at me confused.

   "I like the haircut," I told her sincerely.  "It does wonderful things
for your eyes."

   "Thank you," she said smiling widely.

   "It's just an opinion," I said returning the smile.  "I have a lot of
those about you."

   "Like what?" she asked with a little nervousness injecting itself into
her voice.

   "Dear God, don't let her have a man!" I said desperately.

   She let out a small, sexy laugh and shook her head.

   "That's not an opinion," she pointed out.

   "Okay," I said shrugging.  "So I have a lot of hopes too."

   I nodded to her before walking out of the gym.

   There were many smiles over her shoulder as she worked out on the
Stairmaster in the mornings after our brief introduction.  I noticed her
around campus more, and noticed that her pretty eyes always seemed happy to
see me.

   She gave me a warmer smile than usual one morning after her workout as
she walked by the vendor stand inside the gym.

   "Can I buy you a water?" I asked before she passed me.

   She stopped and approached the stand to look at the selection.

   "How about a protein bar too?" she asked hopefully.

   "Anything you want," I replied.

   "I like it when a man thinks like that," she told me.

   The blonde behind the counter pulled two waters out and rang us up.

   "I'm Susan," my Stairmaster girl said as I paid.

   "Hello, Susan," I said.  "It's nice to finally know your name."

   "You're Miguel, right?" she asked.

   I looked at her questioningly.

   "The machine you work on is reservation-only so you have to sign in for
it," she explained.

   "Your usual machine isn't, so you had an advantage," I said guiding her
towards one of the tables.

   We sat down and took a sip of our waters wondering how to continue.

   "You're a professor," she said unsurely.

   "Now, that's more than you should know," I said humorously.

   "I have a friend who took a class with you," she answered.  "She told me
you were a disdainful asshole, who'd written a few books only critics
like."

   "That's an accurate description of my faults," I said thoughtfully. 
"But I would like to point out that I'm only an associate professor, and
any show of disdain comes wrapped in a wicked wit."

   "Why is only being an associate important?" she asked.

   "Nobody cares if I flirt with the occasional pretty student," I informed
her.

   "She did say you were funny," she replied.  "And fucking hot!"

   "Does hot make up for asshole?" I asked her eagerly.  "Witty definitely
trumps disdainful, at least in my opinion but I must admit to bias."

   "She told me you weren't an asshole to everyone," she said ignoring my
attempt at humor.  "You were always nice to her; you even let her make up
for work she missed."

   "I teach creative writing, Susan," I said.  "Kids take my class for an
easy grade; I try to oblige within limitations."

   "Is the woman you come here with your girlfriend?" she asked suddenly.

   I took a deep breath and stared at her.

   "I saw you kissing her the other day," Susan said quietly.

   "L thinks of herself as my big sister.  I have one of those so I would
know," I told her sadly.  "There's something not there between us on her
side."

   "Do you regret that?" she asked leaning forward.

   "I wouldn't be sitting here if whatever is missing for L wasn't," I
responded honestly.

   Susan and I ran into each other more often around campus after our
conversation and always took the time to say a couple of words.  She
accepted my invitation to lunch one afternoon.  Sometime during the meal,
she invited me to go on bike ride with her that weekend.

   A bike ride for Susan was incomplete without a few falls so we were
pretty dirty when it was over.  I offered to buy her dinner, but she
pointed out the mess we had made of our clothing.

   "You can take a shower at my place," I told her.  "I have some sweats
you can wear if we don't go anywhere fancy."

   She readily agreed and we headed to my place.

   Like with Stephanie, I forgot to consider L but she was nowhere to be
found when I opened my front door.  I sighed in relief after opening my
bedroom door and not finding her inside.  I grabbed a pair of sweats,
handed them to Susan, and pointed her towards the bathroom.

   "Do you want something to drink?" I asked.

   "Water," she said over her shoulder as she walked into the bathroom.

   I came back upstairs a couple of minutes later with the water.  The
bathroom door was open so I peeked inside.

   Susan was standing in front of the mirror in her underwear.  Her panties
were small enough that most of her ass was on exhibit.  I caressed the skin
of her lower back with my eyes before looking in the mirror.  Her breasts
were the perfect size for her frame.

   Our eyes met in reflection.

   "I have your water," I told her softly.

   She tapped a spot next to the sink with her left hand.  I entered the
bathroom and stood behind her.  I reached around and put the glass down. 
Susan backed up until her body was touching me.

   "Can you tell me about those hopes?" she asked.

   I wrapped an arm around her and flattened my hand on her tummy.

   "I love your ass," I told her.  "I don't feel anything on the exercise
machine if I'm staring at your ass."

   She pressed against the sink and leaned forward.  I moved my hands down
until I could grab her ass.  She must have turned off the light because the
bathroom dimmed as I touched her skin.

   I spread her ass cheeks and traced the line of her body around to the
front.  The panel covering her pussy was moist as I pressed my fingers
against it.  Susan's breathing heightened when I could not control the urge
to grab her panties and pull them down her legs.  She spread her legs when
my fingers went questing again.  I knelt down behind her and scored her ass
cheeks with my teeth.

   My dick pulsed with the need to be inside Susan as the aroma of her
desire made me dizzy.  I penetrated her body with two fingers and she
pushed back to get them deeper.  I stood up, ripped the bra from her body,
and lifted her into the shower.

   The hot water washed away the dirt and sweat, but inflamed the reason we
stood naked underneath its spray.  Susan turned in the circle of my arms
and pulled me down for a deep kiss.  Her hands pulled the clothes I had
forgotten about off my body until I was naked.  She pushed my back against
the wall and rubbed my hard cock with her tummy as we continued kissed.  My
hands were on her ass pressing her against me.

   She squealed when I reached down and picked her up.  She must have
thought I was planning to fuck her right there and complained when her body
went up higher than necessary.

   She grabbed the shower rod as my mouth touched her center.  I had lifted
her high enough to taste her.  She let out a full-throat yell when my
tongue penetrated into her.

   Her excitement was easily discernible from the water, and it increased
when I sucked on her clit.  Bringing my tongue to bear took Susan over the
top, and she yelled out her pleasure again.

   I wanted more of the same so I kept at her; she wriggled trying to make
me release her.  Her clit was sensitive after the orgasm but I did not
relent.  She pulled hard on my hair as the second orgasm flooded her.

   I slid her body down mine until my dick touched her heat.

   "Yes!" she whispered reaching down for me.

   I stepped out of the shower and walked into my bedroom while Susan tried
to stuff me inside of her.  I knelt on my bed and lifted her a little
higher.  It gave her enough room to straighten my dick and place me where
she wanted.

   I lowered her.

   Susan's head went back and her eyes with it as I opened her body with
mine.  She gasped as her weight worked against her body's discomfort at my
size.  She let out a soundless cry when I hit bottom, grabbed her ass
cheeks, spread them, lifted her up, and impaled her deeper onto my cock.

   I held my cock pressed against the deepest part of her body until Susan
dug her nails into arms.

   "Jesus!" she screamed as an orgasm overcame her defenses.

   I set her down carefully.  My hands grabbed Susan's legs and pushed them
against her chest spreading her.  I turned as I felt a hand on the small of
my back.

   L sat naked on the bed next to us.

   "It's okay, sweetie," L whispered when Susan tried to get up.  "Enjoy my
beautiful son; I made him for you."

   Susan relaxed and moved her hips in small circles enjoying the feel of
me inside her.

   "Look at her, Miguel," L instructed.

   I turned my eyes on Susan.

   "Really look at her!" L said stroking my hair.

   The room darkened as if I were drawing in the light.  L started to glow
with her unearthly brightness, and Susan seeped with the orange I had seen
in the gym.

   "Push her!" L whispered.

   I looked at her confused.

   "You've been doing it," she encouraged.  "To Stephanie, to that
dickhead's wife, even to me!  Push her!"

   Their lights became brighter as something inside of me reached out and
fanned their source.

   "Push her!" L chanted.

   I pulled my hips back and fucked into Susan as hard as I could.  I did
not know how to do what L wanted but it seemed connected to sexual
pleasure. I sawed my cock in and out of Susan, lifting her higher and
drinking from the glow of her pleasure.

   Nothing in the room had any light except the two women; the darkness
inside of me pulled on them.  I shook my head angrily and discarded L from
my awareness.

   There was only Susan and her lust.

   She screamed as an orgasm rocketed through her and then another.  It was
not enough for me; there was not enough light to feed me!

   I turned her over on to her hands and knees.  I imagined her on the
Stairmaster; months of staring at her nearly perfect ass, wanting it,
needing it, and now having it.

   It was not enough to feed me!

   I fucked Susan in mad strokes: making the light brighter, and my hunger
for more greater.  Her body clamped down on me during another orgasm and my
body warmed, as finally her pleasure seemed enough.

   Susan's light was blinding.

   "Push her now!" L's voice said inside of my head.

   I knew what she meant; what I had done to Stephanie that made her fuck
me for a grade, that made the department head's wife fuck L and me in her
husband's bed, and what made Susan need me.

   I pushed her!

   Susan's light fragmented, and came back together in a different pattern.

   She pushed back!

   I erupted inside of her as she fed the darkness.

   "Beautiful little girl!" L whispered stroking Susan's hair.  "My
beautiful daughter!"

   I was exhausted but my cock was still hard.  I moved in and out of Susan
building up the energy to continue.

   "Get off her!" L growled.

   I growled back in anger.

   L pushed me.



   ----



   It behooves a writer to be exact.

   I pushed Stephanie, a college student who while not serious about
fucking me for a grade, had thought about the possibility.  I pushed the
department head's wife, an unsatisfied woman in search of adventure, and a
way of getting back at her husband.  I pushed Susan, an iris being ignored
in a sea of roses.

   So when I describe what L did as a push, I am speaking of the act not
its power.

   An accurate description of its power would have been 'launched'.



   ----



   L launched me off the bed; zero to escape velocity before I hit the
window.  The glass, frame, and part of the wall disintegrated when I blew
through it.

   I had a strange thought during my flight.

   I remembered when my big sister had done the same thing to me down a
flight of steps.  We were playing at jumping steps, but she did not know if
the next height was safe.  She dared me to and when I would not do it, she
helped me get over my fear.

   Hitting the ground at the bottom of the steps sounded a lot like the
impact I made hitting the car parked in my driveway.

   More glass exploded as the top of the car absorbed my momentum.

   "Hey, chap!" a cheery voice said from beside the car.  "If you didn't
like the vehicle, you only needed to tell us.  We could have gotten you a
different one; no reason to destroy it."

   A British accent!

   Why couldn't it have been an Australian accent?  An Aussie would have
known to bring beer and lots of ice!  The Brit did not even have the
decency to have a bottle of aspirin handy.

   I rested my head back and looked up to my window; orange and white light
mated.

   "Looks like our mother has a new daughter," the Brit said happily.

   I thought the British were supposed to be dour?

   "You've done good, chap," he said patting my arm.  "Very good!'

   I was about ask him what I had done exactly, but fainted instead.
   

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