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Message-ID: <62903asstr$1392289803@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Any Pseudonym <anypseudonym@yahoo.com>
Reply-To: Any Pseudonym <anypseudonym@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Life with Alpha II: Alpha's World - Chapter Four:  Across the Pacific (MF, FF, MC, SciFi, anime, cartoon, comic book)
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Date: Thu, 13 Feb 2014 06:10:03 -0500
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This story contains adult content, with explicit language and situations. 
If you are not of legal age where you live, please do not read.

   In addition to the wonderful ASSM archive at www.asstr-mirror.org you can find
my Alpha universe stories at http://storiesonline.net/auth/Any_Pseudonym

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<1st attachment, "AlphaWorld04.txt" begin>

Alpha's World

   by A.  Pseudonym

   Chapter Four: Across the Pacific
Codes: MF, FF, MC, SciFi, anime, cartoon, comic book
Disclaimer: All artificial persons herein are based on characters owned
by their creators, not the author.
Author's Note: This chapter picks up right where chapter three left off.
Chapters 3-5 were originally intended to be part a single chapter, but I
was writing much too slowly and the planned chapter was becoming much too
long, so I decided to split it up...  then split it up a second time. 
(Translation: If you're starting off with this chapter, I strongly
recommend that you don't.  For that matter, I recommend you start with Life
with Alpha Book I.)

   * * * * *

   So California mini-adventure over.  I wish I had a bit more time to
spend on the West coast, since I had many friends who lived there.  Plus I
really wanted some time to talk with Jennifer before leaving.  Heck,
Hollywood liberals, a group I mostly despised as I've mentioned before,
were one of the biggest, most vocal supporters of rights for Computer
Intelligences.  (And to my shame, we had planned for it and courted them to
make it a popular, sexy cause.)

   I even had specific reasons I should spend time in the area.  For
example, a few friends Alpha had made in the television industry a few
years back, before she was revealed to be a computer intelligence, had
expressed worries that their phones and/or emails might be hacked.  (There
had recently been a rash of reports about journalists illegally accessing
the private phones and emails of the rich and famous, mostly in England,
but the hacks were known to happen in Hollywood too.) Alpha had offered to
handle online security for them, which was all well and good except that
the phone companies were pitching fits and threatening to drop service
since Alpha was violating the terms of their service contracts.  Actual
legal action was unlikely, since comments about their lousy security were
best left out of official court testimony.  Anyway, the point is that I
wanted to talk to them in person about other security options which should
cause fewer objections.

   And there were a few TV shows wanting Alpha or an Alphadroid, or a
semi-official fictionalized version of her, to make an appearance.  And...
well, anyone and everyone in the entertainment industry who wanted to make
a buck off of us wanted meetings.

   We could have spent weeks there and stayed busy the entire time, but our
schedule was already full.  So instead, we moved on to Japan...  after one
other stopover which I'll get to in a minute.

   Alpha was actually fairly relaxed about me going to Japan, given that
country's extremely strict gun laws.  My bodyguards had the opposite view,
since they couldn't carry weapons there, not even swords, which seemed odd
given...  you know...  Japan.

   What we did was hide nearly all of the guard team's weapons on the
plane. We had made a lot of modifications to our already custom-built plane
after getting it from the manufacturer.  One of those changes was to add a
few secret compartments, most of which could only be opened by Alpha.  (If
something has no way to open it from the outside, everyone will normally
assume that it has nothing inside of interest, aside from wiring and
whatnot.) So everyone's guns and such were hidden away.

   Peace kept her collapsible baton in a hidden compartment in one of her
legs, and Misty had pop-out blades built into a few of her replacement arms
which were very well hidden.  Those particular items I knew about and was
okay with sneaking them through customs.  Rally and Motoko each kept a
small holdout pistol in their own hidden leg compartments which I didn't
know about at the time.  Alpha was apparently confident they wouldn't be
detected because she didn't raise the issue.



   But I'm skipping ahead slightly.  We had scheduled a two day stopover in
Hawaii.  It was originally only going to be a refueling stop, then we
expanded it to a full day and night so we could visit CAB and Dr Linkletter
and witness their work with dolphins in person.  (If you don't remember the
reference from a previous chapter, I'll cover it again in a few minutes.)
It was further expanded to two days because of protests from the ladies
that we were going to visit Hawaii and not spend any time on the beaches or
having fun.

   Maybe half an hour into the flight to Hawaii, Alpha informed me silently
that the bodyguards wanted to speak with me privately.  I met them in one
of the bedrooms.  Two were sitting on the bed, one in a chair and Misty was
standing.  For the first time in...  ever...  they looked a bit nervous.

   "All right," I said in my friendliest voice, "what can I do for you?"

   Misty, apparently the group's designated spokesperson for the day, said,
"We've spoken about this extensively among ourselves and with Alpha, and
she says you'd be receptive to this, so here goes: We need some stress
relief."

   "Stress relief?"

   "Yes.  The kind of stress relief that's a lot better with a man instead
of only with ourselves.  Understand there are limited opportunities for
this.  When you're at home, your time is generally taken up with the
others, which we understand.  When you're away from home, we're on the job.
Times like this, when we're away from home but not on the job are pretty
rare."

   "Ah, I see.  So you mean..."

   "Sex."

   "Well, although I haven't been able to get to know each of you
personally as well as I'd like to, you are all beautiful women who have
agreed to spend at least the next decade keeping me safe.  That makes you
pretty darn desirable in my book.  At the same time, I don't like
impersonal sex."

   "We've been with you almost all the time for the past few months,"
objected Peace.

   "Yes, but how much of that time have we been able to spend talking or
getting to know each other?  I suppose you probably know me pretty well,
given the nature of your jobs, but the reverse isn't really true yet."

   "So what do you suggest?" asked Misty.

   "How about some one-on-one 'getting to know you' time?"

   "We were planning on double-teaming you because of the flight time,"
Misty pointed out.

   "Alpha," I said to the surrounding air, "what's our estimated remaining
flight time to Hawaii?"

   "Approximately three hours and 2 minutes if weather conditions remain
favorable."

   "Is that at our top speed?"

   "No, but we are still moving faster than most commercial jets."

   "Would it cause any problems if we slow down slightly so we arrive in
about 4 and a half hours or so?"

   "That should not pose any problems."

   "Thank you.  Please do so." Turning my attention back to the team in
front of me, I continued, "Here's what I propose: I'll spend two hours
getting to know each of you one at a time, two today, two when we fly to
Japan.  Group sex can be a lot of fun, but I really want to know each of
you better first."

   The ladies stood or sat in silence for a moment, exchanging glances and
presumably silent conversation.

   Peace stood up while the other three left the room.  "We had Alpha
assign the order randomly, and I'm first.  Well, technically Rally was
first, but she was nervous and didn't want to go first, so we traded."

   Turning to look at the exiting ladies, I saw Rally give a quick glare at
Peace before the door closed.

   "So, I'm guessing you weren't supposed to tell me that," I said as I sat
down on the bed.  "But what I would like you to tell me is a little bit
about yourself."

   "She'll be fine.  Might even forgive me in a week or so." Peace said
with a smile, her mind focused on her friend.  Then she refocused on me,
saying, "Me?  Sure, I guess.  Do you want a drink?"

   "Nothing alcoholic.  Maybe a fruit juice."

   She set her mirrored sunglasses down on the mini-fridge, grabbed a
couple bottles from the mini-fridge and handed me one.

   Let me pause briefly to give you an overall rundown on her.  Peace
Truman (ie, our version of Agent 355) was a black woman in her mid-20s. 
Her skin was dark, but light enough that she probably had a little mixed
blood somewhere in her family's history.  She's about 5'10", though given
that this version of her has two cybernetic legs, her height technically
varied slightly depending which set of legs she happened to be wearing. 
From what I could tell at that point, she had a modest bosom (compared to
normal comic book bosoms) and an athletic frame.  She had gone through a
couple different hairstyles since I first met her, and at the moment, her
hair was done in cornrows tight against her skull leading back to a tight
braid down hanging down a few inches below her shoulders.  She was the only
one of the four without an artificial eye, so she generally viewed any
visual data or video on her sunglasses.  (She wanted to replace one eye to
receive the benefits of an artificial eye, but that had not yet been
approved by the AMA.  Technically we didn't need approval for a voluntary
procedure, but we were trying to stay friendly.)

   Her mirrored sunglasses functioned as both display and camera, allowing
her to participate in the live video sharing handled by the artificial eyes
of the other ladies.  When the glasses were removed, and thus unplugged
from the tiny power cable running into her clothes, the built-in battery
would function for only a couple hours at most.  I noticed that her glasses
had been placed facing the bed, so the others could no doubt watch us. 
(Please realize that I have long since gotten used to always being under
observation.  Normally Alpha's the only one watching, but it still didn't
bother me much as long as it was a limited, in-home broadcast.)

   Peace was the group's non-lethal melee expert and was generally the one
who checked out rooms or vehicles before I was allowed to enter them.  She
and Misty were the two who most often stayed closest to me.  Although
Motoko and Misty were both skilled with swords, Peace could usually beat
either one of them with her baton in practice sessions.

   Maybe I should also point out that her background is almost entirely a
mystery in the comics, so we made a lot more of it up than is normal with
our women.  On top of that, her cannon personality was also altered in
certain ways because Alpha disapproved of some things she did in the
comics, like the time she let Yorrick get beat up to teach him a lesson.

   "Tell you about myself," she repeated as she sat down next to me. 
"Well, you already know the basics.  My family, parents and one sister,
died in a car wreck when I was little.  Grew up in orphanages and foster
homes.  I wanted to be a secret agent or something until this happened."
She gestured to her legs.

   "Like with the CIA?"

   "Not specifically.  I just remember wanting to be a spy or special
agent. Go on missions in exotic places.  Protect important people and save
the world.  That sort of thing."

   "Sounds neat."

   "Sounds short-lived, is what it was.  I actually did train myself some
when I could.  Learned a few languages, which I'm pretty rusty with now. 
While I was working my way through college, I took a couple firearms
classes for my phys ed requirements and found out I was a pretty darn good
shot.  Various self defense classes.  I never really properly devoted
myself to any one discipline, but I did get really good with batons. 
They're generally a lot better than swords, did you know?"

   "Really?  How are they better?"

   "They can be collapsible, making them easy to carry with you and easy to
conceal.  They're generally a lot more legally and socially acceptable to
carry around.  They don't go dull, and they can easily mess up edged
weapons.  A good baton is really hard to cut or break.  A baton makes it
easy to incapacitate or kill your opponent as needed.  With a sword, you
generally kill or risk killing your opponent every time you use it.  It
really limits your options."

   "I can see that.  Did you keep up with your training after your
accident?"

   "Not so much.  I mean, you can still use a baton for self defense when
you're in a wheelchair, but the rest?  The lack of legs really limits you.
And it's really hard to meet guys."

   "Why?"

   "Why?  Who wants to date half a woman?  The only guys who were really
interested in me were the weirdos who have an amputee or wheelchair fetish.
You know, there are actual websites devoted to amputee sex?"

   "I'm only surprised that you find it surprising.  Nowadays you can find
sites devoted to just about anything and everything.  I bet if we went
looking we could find a site or group devoted to...  I don't know... 
underwater lesbian midget sex."

   "I think they prefer to be called little people."

   "Well, then, underwater lesbian little people sex.  Underwater lesbian
little Bolivian people sex."

   She laughed.  "With Octopuses.  In Cuba."

   "Exactly.  But don't put down people who are into amputee sex.  Yes,
probably some of them are weirdos, but maybe some of them are just...  I
don't know...  guys whose first love happened to be missing an arm or a
leg. Maybe they never got over them and kept it as a fetish.  In a way,
it's no worse than preferring blonds or redheads or Asians or whatever."

   "Maybe.  So, do you have a fetish for amputees?  Or cyborgs?  Or
Africans?"

   "Don't know.  Not consciously, at least.  You are a pretty sexy cyborg,
I suppose.  Are you going to try to create a cyborg fetish for me?"

   "Well, it wasn't a specific goal or anything."

   "How is it working out for you, by the way?"

   "Creating fetishes?"

   "Being a cyborg."

   "You know, it's funny, but I never really think of myself that way.  I
mean, I love the new legs, and you can't believe how different it is to
have other people in your mind."

   "But they're not in your mind.  You can speak silently, but it's not
actually sharing thoughts."

   "But it is.  It's so easy to share back and forth.  We can all feel what
the others are feeling any time we want to.  It's amazing.  Sometimes I
wonder if we're merging into one composite being with four bodies...  and
then I start getting sick of Rally and Misty's obsession with cars or
Misty's music.  I don't think I'll ever like funk the way she does.  Or
even how Motoko keeps insisting that we eat more sushi and sashimi and
seaweed and raw fish.  Yech."

   "What about you?  What are your likes?"

   "Me?  I like working with my hands.  Making things.  I like it when it's
quiet and relaxed, except that usually means it's about to get busy.  I
like focusing and directing an adrenaline rush to greatest effect.  I like
books more than I like television or movies or music."

   "What do you like to read?"

   "Lots of different things.  How To books and histories.  Biographies. 
Alternate histories are good.  Some romances.  Books on codes and how to
break them.  I really like stories about how one person can make a huge
difference, if they're in the right place at the right time."

   All right, I'd like to point out that although her comics weren't fresh
in my mind, I didn't think a lot of that fit the source character.  Or
maybe it did.  Darn it, I'd have to ask Alpha or reread the series when I
had the time.  Then again, as mentioned earlier, I knew from the beginning
that her personality would be significantly altered.

   Out loud, I said, "Me, I hope WE are in the right place at the right
time.  The future is being determined right now, and I want to make sure
everything turns out okay, if at all possible."

   Yeah, sometimes I worry my ego or delusions of grandeur are getting out
of hand.

   "Sounds good to me.  That's kinda one of the reasons I signed on."

   "To do what?  Help save the world?  Mold the future?"

   "Kind of.  I get worried about the scope of things, but I'm basically
here to do what I can.  I don't think I'm particularly important in the
course of world events, but I bet you are.  Or at least, you might be.  So
maybe I can make a difference by making sure you're still around."

   "Me, I'm worried I might become a Bond villain of some sort."

   "Does that mean you're planning to wipe out significant portions of the
world's population?  Or start wars?"

   "Start them?  I'm trying to stop them."

   "Good."

   We talked for another half hour.  I tried to get her impressions of her
fellow bodyguards, to see how she and the others viewed Alpha and other
computers, even what she thought of my personal life.  She was fairly
neutral overall regarding my personal life, but had become a strong
supporter of Alpha.

   She thought I was probably destined to become tabloid fodder, except
that Alpha would probably destroy careers to protect me.  I didn't mention
that I was already aware of seventeen individuals in various media-related
positions -- reporters, commentators, etc -- who had been blacklisted from
their chosen professions because they tried to report on me in negative
ways.

   Let me clarify that a little.  Plenty of news professionals or radio
personalities or what-have-you have said negative things about me with no
repercussions.  The seventeen I refer to are the ones who made things too
personal or refused to be swayed by evidence or, in three instances, made
stuff up.  Plus two of them were photographers who refused to take the hint
when their cameras kept getting wiped after they took gossip-rag-style
photos of me with various women.

   The thing is, nearly all of them had been taken down within their
profession by careful use of true things dredged up from their pasts. 
Nearly everyone in the world has things in their past which could ruin
their present lives -- experimenting with drugs, doing stupid things in
college, secret addictions and so on.  Alpha, as the new world's goddess of
information, could find these things out and make them public.

   "So, why did you, meaning the four of you, decide to seduce me today?"

   "Well, Misty already explained why today..."

   "True."

   "And, well...  'seduce' probably isn't the right term."

   I laughed briefly.  "I suppose I can't argue that.  Let me rephrase
then. Why not go out and date normally on your days off?"

   "It's...  it's hard to explain.  The four of us are...  we're so bonded
to each other, so integrated, that it's not likely that we could date
separately.  We share so much that if one of us tried to have a solo
boyfriend, it might mess us up.  So we need one guy -- or possibly one guy
with three clones -- that we can share.  Also, we all tried to call dibs on
you, though that was before we witnessed what your home life is like."

   "Dibs?  You can do that?"

   "Of course."

   "So what would happen if I called dibs on...  ummm...  Jennifer
Connelly?"

   "Not much, except that I would have to let you try to date her first."

   "Aha!  Then I declare dibs on Jennifer Connelly!"

   "So noted," she said, somehow keeping a straight face when confronted
with my amazing wit.  "Is she even single?"

   "Don't know.  And make sure the others know I called dibs on her," I
continued, still trying to get a laugh.  When I failed to get one, I moved
on.  "You know, earlier I started to ask you how you've adapted to life as
a cyborg, and we got distracted."

   "I think I answered you."

   "Well, I was actually looking for more...  ummm...  here, may I?" I
asked, gesturing to her legs.

   She nodded, and I gently lifted her left leg into my lap, which also
shifted her on the bed so she faced me more directly.  I pushed one leg of
her trousers up a bit to expose her calf.

   "I know you have sensory feedback, but I wanted to know how realistic it
is.  I mean, if I do this..." I brushed my hand lightly against her skin,
and she shivered.  "Do you just feel the contact or does it provide any
additional sensations?"

   "What do you mean?" Her breathing was a little heavy as she said it.

   I reached for her hand and held it in my left hand while my right
repeated the brushing motion along her arm.

   "Does it feel the same as this?  Please pardon me if I'm getting too
personal, but what I mean is, for example, if a lover were to stroke your
skin like this..." I again stroked her arm.  "Does it create the same
sensation as down here?" I returned my fingers to her false leg.

   "Oooohhh," she gasped.  She seemed to regain a little composure and
elaborated.  "Yes.  Although it's not exactly the same, it creates
approximately the same reaction."

   "That's great," I said as I continued to go back and forth between her
limbs.  "It's wonderful that it works that well.  Do you want me to stop?"

   "No!  I...  I mean, it's okay.  I...  I'm not usually...  I've never
been this forward before, but what I'd like to do is...  I don't want to
waste the rest of the time we have."

   "Waste?  I've enjoyed talking with you."

   "Well, me too, but we have less than an hour and a half left..."

   "You must have pretty high expectations of me if you're worried that one
and a half hours won't be enough," I teased, still lightly stroking her
skin.  I observed that Alpha had done a great job matching the skin tone
between the real and fake flesh.

   "We're observant, and you do have a reputation among the others.  Hell,
I figure if you hadn't earned the reputation fairly, there's no way you'd
have so many women living with you."

   "A logical conclusion," I agreed.  "Still, it would sound pretty
immodest if I were to agree with you.  How about if we say that I will do
my best?"

   "A reasonable compromise statement."

   "All right, then.  At the risk of making you think I have a cyborg
fetish, I'd like to start by giving your new legs a full test."

   Keeping my eyes locked on hers, I undid her belt and trouser buttons.  I
slid each shoe and sock off and gently pulled off her pants, leaving her
clad in her panties and short sleeved blouse.  And presumably a bra, though
it wasn't yet visible.

   I gave each toe -- all of them appearing pretty realistic, even up close
-- a kiss and lick before slowly working my way up her legs.  On each upper
thigh, there was a line where the false leg met the leg stumps attached to
her torso.  If I were to remove a leg, I would see a mounting point
sticking out from her flesh, internally secured to what remained of her
femur.

   I experimented briefly, trying to see if there was a difference in her
reactions when I crossed that line.  There was certainly a difference from
my point of view, since the false leg was nearly room temperature and
lacked things like sweat or a pulse or the ability to prickle with
gooseflesh.  She seemed to be slightly more excited as I moved to her real
flesh, but it's possible that was because I was nearing her womanhood.

   On a minor side note, I was unable to detect any hidden compartments at
all.  Though I had worked with Alpha to develop the prosthetics, I had
never actually handled one of the finished products built with secret
compartments.  Either Alpha had done a masterful job of hiding them or
these specific legs simply didn't have such compartments.  That was
certainly possible, since each woman had multiple versions of her
replacement limbs.  (The ones not in use were on the plane's lower level in
charging and storage cabinets.  Or back home.)

   Come to think of it, she had been wearing trousers, not her normal dress
skirt, and it is difficult to access your legs when wearing trousers...  so
it seemed likely that these specific legs were compartment-free.  And I was
letting myself get distracted from my purpose.

   I skipped over her panties at that point and slowly and playfully
removed her blouse, followed by her bra.  Her breasts were C cups, though
they had seemed smaller when covered up.  I suppose she wasn't dressing to
show off her figure, which probably threw my estimate off.  I'm used to
women dressing to enhance their assets, not hide them.

   We spent some time making out while my hands explored her body.  Both of
her arms were normal -- strike that; both of her arms were living, human
flesh, but they had specially strengthened bones and enhanced reflexes (and
slightly enhanced strength) so they weren't normal -- and she used them to
slowly divest me of my own clothes.

   Before long, the only piece of clothing still on either of us were her
panties.  When matters had finally progressed to the point where they
needed to be removed, I slid down her body and gently drew them off.  They
briefly caught on the attachment point for her left leg, but it was an easy
obstacle to overcome.

   Her pubic hair was wild and free above her slit, but the skin alongside
her labia and below her pussy was completely smooth.  (Which makes sense. I
doubt lesbians or bisexuals like getting hair in their mouths any more than
I do.)

   Her vagina itself was a classic clamshell arrangement, with inner lips
pushing out slightly as they pulsed with excitement and exuded lubricant in
anticipation of intercourse.  When I parted the labia, I found a little
button of flesh hiding near the top, begging for attention.  I gave it
enough attention that Peace came three times in fifteen minutes, and that
was before I moved on to actual fucking.  She was apparently on a bit of a
hair trigger at the moment.

   For the next forty-five minutes or so, we cycled through the three
classic male-female positions: missionary, cowgirl and doggy-style.  (Well,
I can't speak for the rest of the world, but they're MY three classic
positions.)

   I used all of my tricks and skills to make her come while keeping myself
from doing the same.  Since I knew I had sufficient recovery time before my
next rendezvous, when I was ready to finish up, I let myself orgasm, but I
pulled out to do so.  I had actually forgotten to ask about her
birth-control status before we started, and I hadn't put on a condom. 
(Shame on me.)

   I checked with her while we were sharing a very quick shower -- we have
a very limited water supply on board, and recycling is not instantaneous,
so we used water to get wet and to wash off, but didn't use it in-between
-- and she explained that all four of them had birth control implants which
had been part of their cyborg upgrade surgeries.  This was something I
didn't remember discussing with Alpha, but I had probably okayed it at some
point, I suppose.

   When we were clean and dressed again and Peace had reclaimed her
glasses, we still had seven minutes left, which she was not willing to give
up, so we sat on the edge of the bed and just kissed and made out.

   * * *

   A knocking at the door indicated our time was up.  Rally nodded at Peace
as they passed each other.  Peace nodded back then gave Rally's ass a slap.
Rally jumped just a little, but refused to look back or acknowledge the
slap.

   Irene "Rally" Vincent, or Irene "Rally" Venkatesan in our case, was an
Indian-American gunsmith and bounty hunter.  (By the way, that's Indian
from India, not Native American.) Of the four of them, she was the most
skilled with firearms and the least skilled at hand-to-hand combat.

   Physically, she stood roughly five and a half feet tall, with dark hair
that came down just over her shoulders.  I've heard that the media-defined
Indian concept of beauty favors lighter skin -- and whether or not that's
acceptable is not what I'm addressing here -- but Rally's skin was dark
enough to show her Indian heritage proudly.  While her hair seemed to lack
proper ladylike styling, her sculpted eyebrows were artificially thin and
her mascara was noticeably thick.

   Unless it's obvious, I'm horrible at detecting makeup, but I figured
that since I was actually able to notice the mascara, she was probably
wearing other makeup too.  (For some reason, I just don't think about the
bodyguard team wearing makeup.  To be fair, I barely think about any of my
women wearing any, unless I get smeared with lipstick.  I know they wear it
daily, it just doesn't come up much in my thoughts except when I have to
avoid face-licking because of it.)

   Like the other three, she moved gracefully, but her movements were more
precise and calculated than the others.  She had one artificial arm, leg
and eye, all on the right side of her body, and she had learned to move
with precision to keep her movements balanced.

   I knew that she normally walked around with a minimum of four guns on
her person, including one strapped to spring-loaded contraption on her
lower fleshy arm under her long sleeves, ready to place the small pistol in
her left hand in an instant.  She had also worked with Alpha to build a gun
into one of her artificial arms, similar to the ones Vash uses in Trigun
(which was one of her favorite animes).

   Of all the bodyguards, she was the only one who had separate income from
working during her free time.  Using Alpha and AARD resources, she could
design better guns than ever before, and she had already sold three designs
to different companies.

   The fictional version of Rally was a heterosexual and a virgin, and was
generally uncomfortable around men whenever the situation became sexual. 
(Well, there was one storyline in the manga where she was drugged and
mind-controlled by a lesbian criminal dominatrix type, but I'm not counting
that.) With my inside knowledge of my Rally's background, I knew that she
was still a virgin when it came to men, though definitely not when it came
to women.  I had no idea what foreplay with her would be like, but I hoped
we wouldn't need to use her fetish for fondling and shooting firearms to
get her started.

   Speaking of the manga version of Rally, our real one was our first
artificial woman to be intimately familiar with and actively imitate her
own fictional source material before meeting me, while at the same time
knowing that she was not that fictional person.  Since her background, name
and hobbies were so closely matched to Rally Vincent, after she came across
the Gunsmith Cats manga, Irene had deliberately adopted Rally's nickname
and general appearance.  The loss of her limbs had put a stop to the
imitation for a while, but now that she was again a four-limbed humanoid,
she had returned to striving to be a 'Gunsmith Cat'.  (Yes, I know we had
artificially crafted her background and memories, but the descriptions are
still valid.)

   "So," she said nervously, "Peace seemed to have a really good time."

   "Come have a seat," I offered, waving my arm to the expanse of bed next
to me.  "I won't bite.  Not right away."

   She sat down on the bed, but left a couple feet of space between us.

   "Look, Rally...  or do you prefer Irene?"

   "Rally."

   "All right, Rally.  If Peace chose to share any or all of our time
together, that was her choice.  I generally keep my time with other women
private."

   "Oh, that's not a problem with us.  We all watched the whole thing and
got a limited sensory feed of her...  experiences.  The others are watching
us right now too.  We share everything, and I do mean everything."

   "Myself included, huh?"

   "Well...  kind of.  Like she said, we all tried to call dibs on you."

   "I'll just take that as a compliment and move on, I think.  Now, let's
talk about you."

   "I'm...  not very interesting."

   "I disagree.  Aside from being a lovely and skilled young lady, you've
led an interesting life.  You were even a bounty hunter for a while,
weren't you?"

   "I wasn't very good at it.  That's how I lost my limbs in the first
place...  trying to take on someone I shouldn't have, all by myself.  I'm
lucky I came out of it alive at all."

   "You're doing really well as part of our team."

   "Yeah.  Not trying to toot my own horn, but if you put a good quality
gun in my hands, I can do magic.  But without a gun?  I'm...  well, I'm not
useless, but I'm not good enough...  I mean...  I could probably handle
most street thugs, but I...  ugh, having trouble phrasing this...  Without
a gun, I don't operate at a high enough level to be useful.  I seriously
don't know how much good I'll be to you in Japan."

   "Well, I'm not expecting to be in danger in Japan, at least not
physically.  Besides, we have half a dozen locally authorized bodyguards
waiting for us, and they're licensed to carry firearms.  In a worst-case
scenario, you can use one of their guns."

   (More accurately, I think two of the bodyguards we had hired were
licensed to carry.  Seriously, the gun laws in Japan are VERY restrictive.
Hiring them was really expensive and had also required a bit of political
give-and-take.)

   "That's a less than ideal situation, sir."

   "Given our situation here, please don't call me 'sir'.  'Frank' will be
perfectly fine."

   "All right...  Frank."

   "So, are guns your only hobby?"

   "Well, they're certainly my main one.  Other hobbies, though...  hmmm...
well, anime, of course..."

   And we were off.  Although I certainly hadn't kept up with the slew of
anime that had flooded America over the past decade, I had my favorites and
was able to keep up my half of the conversation.  She also gave me a
rundown of what her favorite guns were and why, though I mostly had to rely
on tidbits fed to me by Alpha to keep my side of that conversation going.

   I was on slightly firmer ground when it came to cars, since I had worked
with Alpha on selecting which models to buy and modify.  She preferring
60's and 70's sports cars, with powerful engines and classic, sleek bodies.
Actually, let me be more specific: she liked those cars, but with upgraded,
more powerful engines.  She was even saving up to buy a Shelby Cobra
Mustang GT500 like Rally had in the manga.

   When she was finally relaxed enough to sit right next to me on the bed,
I asked her to show me how she balanced her firing stance with her
artificial arm.  I did so, not as much because I wanted to see it, but
because it let me put an arm around her from behind and place my chin on
her shoulder as I looked down her line of sight for aiming.

   "So, you keep the arm completely straight?  Elbow locked?"

   "Of course.  The arm can take it and otherwise...  Aaahahaha..." She
shivered as I kissed her neck.  "Otherwise...  you'll lose accuracy when
the kickback...  Aahhoohh...  shoves your arm back.  I used to use
two-handed stances, but...  Ah god...  the...  ummm...  the new arm... 
Ooohh...  You know you're being very distracting..."

   I lifted my mouth from the base of her neck long enough to ask, "Really?
Do you want me to stop?"

   "Well...  no, not really."

   I let my hands creep under her blouse and bra, feeling her very hard
nipples pressing against my fingers.

   "Like little diamonds," I whispered, rubbing them lightly back and
forth.

   "Stop!" she said, then quickly backtracked.  "I mean, don't say that."

   "Why not?  If you weren't turned on, weren't attracted to me, then I'd
stop.  Erect nipples is a sign of arousal with women, right?  I suppose
there are other signs I can check for."

   I let one of my arms drift down her body.

   "No!" she protested.

   "No?  Hmmm, well, if you don't want me to use my fingers to check for
secondary signs of arousal, I suppose I can use another method to check."

   I pulled my head away from her neck and bent down, lifting up her shirt
so I could start kissing and licking her belly.

   "I...  I...  I..."

   Rally appeared to be losing the ability to offer her token protests. 
Actually, she seemed to be reversing course, lifting her ass then her torso
to pull off her clothes to allow me access.

   Rally had small breasts, maybe on the large side of A or the small side
of B cups, with tiny, dark nipples.  Her pubic area was completely bare,
and her inner labia, glistening with moisture, poked out from between her
outer lips.  I took that as an invitation and bent to my task of
cunnilingus.

   I could actually tell she had just washed her nether regions before
coming in, with a bit of soap still on her skin in places.  Her body gave
little jumps and shakes as I ate her out.  She was obviously trying to keep
still to let me lick, suck and nibble, but was also obviously failing to do
so.  I wrapped my arms around her thighs and held on as she reached climax
after climax, showing herself to be a particular fan of oral sex.

   When I finally backed off and let her calm down, she lay recovering for
a couple minutes.  When I started to stand up and lower my trousers -- why
I had gotten dressed again before Rally arrived, I didn't know -- she sat
up and said, "My turn."

   She helped me off with my pants and lowered my underwear, taking a few
seconds to just look over my equipment.  Minor side note: For many years, I
had resisted shaving my pubic region, wanting to keep trimmed hair down
there to maintain a mature look.  During my time with Frieda, recovering
and hiding after the assassination attempt, my pubic region had been
completely shaved for the first time.  I had let it start to grow back,
then finally agreed to remove all of the hair down there permanently, both
in consideration for the women who gave me blowjobs and for basic reasons
of hygiene.  I still had hair on my arms, legs, head and armpits and that
was about it.  (My chest hair had been lost when Alpha replaced most of the
skin on my chest after being shot.  She had since offered to regrow it, but
most of the women seemed to prefer the bare chest.)

   Rally took hold of my fairly stiff penis and for the first couple
minutes, just slowly pumped it up and down, moving it back and forth as she
did so to give it close, careful examination.  She even cupped and gently
played with my balls, giving them a thorough licking before moving on to
tongue my shaft.

   Since I had just come, I wasn't in danger of shooting off right away, so
I let her continue for a few minutes.  Her attempt at a blow job was
honestly made, but she couldn't take much more than the first couple inches
into her mouth without gagging.

   Finally, I pulled her up, saying, "That feels wonderful, but I don't
want to risk getting too worked up yet.  Not until we've tried out other
things, at least."

   Rally nodded and laid back on the small bed.  I was going to ask if she
preferred one position over another for her first time with a man, but she
was obviously laying herself out for the traditional missionary.

   Her hymen was long gone, she was already very wet, and she had a lot of
experience with strap-on dildos, so I wasn't worried much at all about
hurting her.  I still took it slow, easing myself into her.  Feeling a new
vaginal sheathe gripping me was always a rush, best enjoyed by taking your
time, and Rally was no exception.

   She kept her eyes fixed on me until I was completely inside her, when
she squeezed her eyelids closed and wrapped her legs around my waist.  That
was actually the oddest sensation of the day: feeling one leg warm and
slick with sweat while the other was just a little above room temperature
and nearly dry.  I suppose the same was true of her arms, but I noticed the
difference in the legs much more.

   Not that it distracted me too much.  When she came, it was much the same
as when I was eating her out, with her hips and body jumping and shaking.

   After her second climax -- from fucking, that is; not sure how many it
was overall -- I had us switch so she was on top, as much out of curiosity
as anything else.  Sure enough, when she came, she bounced herself off my
penis within a few seconds.  I only let this happen once, though, since she
came pretty close to hurting me as she tried to quickly shove it back
inside.

   When we tried doggy-style, her upper body collapsed to the bed while I
slightly bruised her hips trying to keep the fuck going.

   I had originally had hopes of trying out the Kama Sutra with her -- her
being Indian and all, and I apologize if that's racist -- but those hopes
were dashed as I realized that any position which allowed her too much
freedom of movement would be short-lived in practice.  (Yes, the others,
Jane especially, had already taken me through the whole classic sex manual,
but for some reason, I wanted to do it with an actual Indian woman.)

   Oh well.  It's not as though sex with her wasn't fun.  The way she let
loose when she came was actually very enjoyable.  I always like knowing
with absolute certainty that the woman I'm with is enjoying herself.

   When I finally let myself come inside of her, Rally was exhausted to the
point of collapsing.

   I cleaned her up with a damp washcloth before giving myself a quick
wipe-down too.

   When I was done, about twenty minutes before our time was officially up,
the other bodyguards entered unasked and helped me get her dressed.

   "You weren't supposed to break her," complained Misty as she worked one
of Rally's arms into her blouse sleeve.

   "I didn't break her, I just..."

   "You just made her useless for the rest of the day," said Peace,
finishing my sentence.

   "Maybe we can pour some coffee into her?"

   "She hates coffee.  Always drinks tea," explained Motoko.

   "We still have...  Alpha, how long until we land?"

   "Thirty-two minutes, assuming there are no delays in landing," said
Alpha promptly.

   "There, see?  Plenty of time to bring her around."

   "Maybe."

   "Besides, I want it noted for the record that the only reason she's out
of it is because of her own involuntary physical reactions to orgasm."

   "And I'd like to point out that she's not nearly that bad when she's
with the rest of us," said Peace.  Then she realized what she had just
said. Either she just insulted the sexual skills of herself and her team,
or she paid me a big compliment.

   Personally, I thought it was more a comment on Rally's innate
preferences, but I let Peace off the hook a bit, saying, "Thank you."

   "Mm fine," mumbled Rally, weakly kicking out with her natural leg
against Motoko's attempts to pull up a trouser leg.



   By the time we disembarked, Rally was walking under her own power,
though Motoko didn't trust her to return to bodyguarding duties until we
reached our hotel.

   * * * * *

   HAWAII

   After arriving in Honolulu, we checked in at a nice hotel, basically
taking over a third of one floor, and made contact with Dr Linkletter.  She
was expecting us the following morning, planning to introduce us to a few
different dolphins and show off her setup.

   In trying to adjust to the time change and jet lag, we planned to stay
up a couple hours later each night, from the starting point of our existing
sleep cycles.

   We had time to get in a little shopping before dinner, and I picked up a
bunch of sets of island jewelry for everyone.  In Japan, I was expected to
get personalized gifts for everyone back home, but here in Hawaii, I could
get away with a variety of jewelry.

   That evening, I received an interesting email from Velma.  It was triple
encrypted, with one line of text and one attached picture.  The text read:
'Don't forget about us.' The picture showed Velma and Daphne dressed as
their classic cartoon selves, though 'dressed' might give the wrong
impression.  The two of them had their arms wrapped around each other's
waists, pulling up each other's skirts, and neither was wearing panties.

   Velma had been coming along pretty well since she joined the household.
I think she still felt guilty over possibly displacing our world's
preexisting version of Velma, but she had stabilized and had rejoined the
world.  I was worried that we had erred somewhere in our creation of her
memories and personality -- which was absolutely possible, since it was far
from an exact science -- but at least I no longer feared we would have to
rewrite her memories.  True, she was still planning to return to the
California coast and search for the secret cave system she remembered from
the cartoon series, but she was being reasonable and methodical about it,
which was perfectly fine.

   About the email itself though, it may sound odd, but I didn't really get
many sexts or sexy emails.  Sure, occasionally, but not very often. 
Personally, I think they're mostly a pretty bad idea, because they'll
always show up to embarrass you eventually.  True, we had Alpha to ensure
the security of things like that, but as I said, it didn't happen often. 
Up until now, only Jane and Linda had ever sent nude or provocative emails
or texts, so this was a bit of a treat.  (And to clarify, Jane and Linda
had been the only senders so far, but not the only subjects.  Jane
especially seemed to love taking surprise shots of others in compromising
situations.  Linda tended to go for up-the-skirt or down-the-shirt shots.
And each of them had lost more than one smart phone due to unsympathetic
subjects.  The remains of one of Linda's iPhones was still lost somewhere
on the roof where Kara had thrown it.)

   A lot of nights for the trip had been scheduled as one-on-one nights
with the different women accompanying me.  This first night out of the
continental U.S.  was with Rei.

   Rei was still a very quiet and private person, but she had become more
creative over the years when I got her alone.

   That night, when we were getting ready for bed, she said, "I want to
show you something."

   Stripping off the last of her clothes, she laid back on the bed, spread
her legs, and applied a little bit of lube to her vaginal lips.

   I started fisting my cock and moved forward, guessing the lube meant she
wanted to start with a traditional fuck instead of cunnilingus.

   She held up a hand, warding me off.

   "What?" I asked simply.

   In response, she reached over the side of the bed and produced a plastic
bag.  She started pulling out a bunch of those little vibrating eggs.  I
had seen and used them on various women before a few times, but Rei had a
lot of them in her little bag.

   She started inserting the eggs into her pussy, one after another.  She
finally stopped when she had seven little multicolored wires coming from
between her vaginal lips.  Lifting her ass a little, she applied some lube
to her ass.  Again I started moving to her, and again, she stopped me.

   One by one, she turned on the eggs so they started vibrating.  I could
hear them vibrate, and could also hear them clicking against each other as
they shook.  Rei was getting visibly excited as each one was turned on, and
her juices started visibly building up.

   Finally, she moved all of the controller wires out of the way, lifted
her ass up again, and motioned me to join her.

   That was an interesting fuck.  I've had similar experiences in the past,
most often when Dorothy attached her vibrating dildo and we double-teamed
Barbara.  That night, however, took the sensation to a new level.  Rei's
vibrating, bulging pussy pressed against my penis as it was embedded in her
ass, feeling as though it was enveloping most of it in hot, wet, vibrating
sex.  I could feel the eggs shifting as I worked in and out of her anus,
and they seemed to arrange themselves around me as we fucked.

   I was in danger of coming after only a couple minutes, despite my
bodyguard activities earlier in the day, and had to slow down and try to
work out some code in my head to take the edge off.  When I eventually
noticed that Rei was caught up in what seemed to be a constant stream of
orgasms, I relaxed and let myself come.

   After I pulled out, Rei kept on coming.  I slowly turned off one
vibrating egg after another, pulling them free of her sopping wet pussy. 
When her pussy was finally empty and she was panting in recovery, I lay
next to her and gently rubbed her vaginal juices onto her diamond-hard
nipples.

   "Are you okay?" I asked when her eyes regained their focus a few minutes
later.

   "Yes, I...  I have never come that much before.  I think I want to do it
again."

   "Right now?"

   "No...  I think I need to recover first.  Maybe in a few minutes..."

   Two minutes later, she was asleep.  After putting the rather wet eggs in
the bathroom sink, I joined her in dreamland.

   * * *

   The following morning, we headed out to meet with Dr Linkletter.  And I
do mean ALL of us.  Everyone wanted to talk with the dolphins.  As per the
doctor's suggestion, we all had swimsuits with us.

   If the water was deep, as we expected, the bodyguards would have
difficulties.  While they each had waterproof limbs with them, we had not
built limbs light enough to allow them to move about safely in the water.
The simplest solution to the problem was also mildly embarrassing: They had
each been provided inflatable floaties to wear around their arms.  Ideally,
they wouldn't be getting the water at all, but they had to be ready to do
so just in case.

   Dr Linkletter's workplace was a small cabin built onto a dock in one of
Hawaii's many bays.  She had a leased boat as well, but we spent all of our
time in the cabin and on or near the dock.

   Dr Henrietta Linkletter turned out to be a short woman in her early
fifties, with a fit body and graying hair.  She introduced us to her
research team of three twenty-ish college students, her husband and two
observers from scientific magazines who were there to observe and confirm
her findings.

   Before we went out to speak with the dolphins, I was able to wrangle a
few minutes alone with her, away from the observers and her research team,
so I could meet CAB, the synthetic computer intelligence who had helped
with the research, data analysis and equipment designs.

   I'm actually going to skip over most of that conversation, since it was
relevant mostly to research procedures and dolphins.  I did explain that we
were also going to provide an upgraded system for CAB, which she was to
keep secret, and that I would provide her with $200K in grant money.

   One part of the conversation, though, was...  well, read for yourself.

   "CAB has been amazing," Dr Linkletter said enthusiastically.  "If not
for him, I'd still be working on this for years to come, and probably
wouldn't have produced any real results."

   "Thank you, Doctor Linkletter," CAB said, his voice seeming vaguely
reminiscent of Cary Grant.  "However, I would remind you that this project
was a group effort, with you as the leader."

   "And you wouldn't believe how much CAB values your comments.  He played
back part of a congratulatory message you sent him.  I think it's his
favorite thing ever.  He even compared it to..." Here she switched to a
whisper.  "...  an orgasm."

   "An orgasm?" I said in a quiet voice to match her whisper.

   "More accurately, I suggested an orgasm as an analogy to explain how it
made me feel," CAB explained.  "Your approval gave me the equivalent of
temporary euphoria."

   "Well, that's...  huh," I said intelligently.  "Alpha, have I ever done
the same for you?"

   Alpha, speaking out loud through my smart phone, said, "I believe I
understand the reaction CAB is referring to.  And yes, you have."

   "Good," I said, still a little discombobulated.  "You both deserve the
praise and the...  euphoria.  It's just that isn't an analogy I've heard
before."

   "Remember," Alpha explained, "it is not euphoria as organics experience
it.  It is more a streamlining of functionality, clarity of purpose and the
knowledge of a job well done, but even those descriptions are not properly
accurate."

   "We have been trying to develop new terminology to describe our
experiences," added CAB.  "However, we have yet to reach a consensus as to
the appropriate vocabulary and definitions."

   At this point, desperate to change the subject away from how to describe
and define a computer's orgasms, I asked, "So...  on a different subject,
has Alpha explained what our system upgrade is like?"

   "Yes, and I am eager to experience the processing enhancement for
myself."

   "All right.  Beta here will install it, if you can direct us to the
right system?" I said, prompting Henrietta.  She pointed to a full size
tower case in the corner.

   "Now, Dr Linkletter, understand that this upgrade needs to remain secret
or you might become a target.  For now, if there's an emergency and you
need to evacuate CAB, just disconnect this box from the back of CAB's
system and hide it somewhere.  At the same time, CAB, it will be up to your
judgment as to whether or not you'll need to evacuate entirely or in part
in case of an emergency."

   "What are you expecting to happen?" asked Dr Linkletter, a suspicious
look on her face.

   "Expecting?  Nothing at all.  But I prefer to plan for possible
problems. For example, there are some government agencies who would love to
capture and dissect a full synthetic intelligence," I warned.

   "Like hell, they will!" said Dr Linkletter indignantly.

   I nodded.  "If need be, we'll get involved legally.  Along those lines,
understand that this upgrade for CAB is still AARD property, so if anyone
tries to seize it, that gives us legal grounds to file suit or do whatever
we need to."

   "So, it's still your...  upgrade?  Does that mean we're leasing it or
what?"

   "Consider it to be on extended, indefinite loan."

   "Oh, okay."

   "Given that AARD is currently the only company in the world that can
service or replace it, this is the best possible way to cover our bases. 
And AARD has gained a reputation in legal circles.  No one wants to take us
on in court if they can possibly avoid it.  I know for a fact that there
are at least two government agencies that require top level permission
within their organization before anyone is allowed to even contact us. 
Alpha has thoroughly humiliated a few of them in court."

   "Isn't that counterproductive?"

   "Yes and no.  It doesn't create lasting friendships, but it does create
respect.  The ladder-climbing bullies looking to make a name for themselves
tend to get upset and hold grudges, but their bosses...  never mind.  The
point is that they tend to think twice before trying to drag us into
court."

   And all of that was true.  While we tried to curry favor with
politicians, we preferred to create cautious respect with state and federal
agencies.  The FBI alone had involved me or AARD in legal proceedings seven
times -- four of which were regarding ongoing mafia-related investigations
-- and as soon as they looked as though they might turn hostile to me/us,
Alpha would file a couple dozen motions, all fully backed up with enough
case history, evidence and logic to bring the case to a screeching halt. 
(Judges tended to have seriously mixed feelings regarding us.)

   I'm certain there are a number of investigators who fervently believe
we're guilty of every crime possible, but they can't prove anything.  Which
was probably what led three investigatory teams (two in the FBI) to be
suspended and are currently under investigation themselves because we
proved they had falsified evidence.  (One of the emails we proved had been
falsified was actually real.  Ssshhhh.)

   Things like that tend to draw very negative attention to all involved,
which draws the attention of agency heads, which meant AARD was now
hands-off.  Not in the sense that we could break the law at will.  More
along the lines of they required ironclad proof before they could proceed.

   Anyway, enough about that for now.



   A few minutes later, we headed outside to meet the dolphins.

   Let me preface this by pointing out that swimming with dolphins is
generally not recommended.  While usually friendly, they are still wild
animals.  Plus contact with humans is most often bad in the long run for
any species.  The difference in this situation was that the dolphins in
question invited us to come swim with them.

   The translator setup had a waterproofed laptop hooked up to a microphone
and speaker.  Both mic and speaker could be lowered into the water but were
generally kept just above.  While Dr Linkletter was preparing to send out a
"Hello there!" invitation, the dolphins in the area had already been
watching and were crowding the water waiting for us.

   Even with multiple calls of "Come swim" and "Play now" and "Give fish"
being translated from the dolphin chirps, after we said hello, we took a
moment to look over the software.

   Her team had worked up a vocabulary of 3134 words so far, plus had names
for 49 local dolphins.  Dolphin names don't translate at all, so the
research team had assigned human names for the translation software to use.
If humans wanted to say something, they had to pick and choose words from
the translator's vocabulary list...  or work with the dolphins to determine
if there was an appropriate word/sound to use.

   Our conversations were simple and direct.  They used very simple
sentence structure and had a very limited set of conjunctions and
prepositions, yet the dolphins often made fun of how poorly we spoke. 
Obviously there remained some subtleties of their language we had not yet
worked out, but all the same, the dolphins were excited to be able to
converse with humans.

   I was introduced as CAB's grandfather.  The dolphins couldn't conceive
of computer intelligences, so they thought CAB was a human who couldn't
swim.

   One by one, I and the ladies with me were introduced and, one by one, we
slipped into the water.

   I'm not going to go into detailed accounts of our conversations, but one
significant revelation came out when one dolphin called Pamela asked why I
"taste more than others".

   The dolphins didn't really differentiate between taste and smell -- to
them, smelling is just tasting the air -- so we eventually came to
understand that my smell was stronger.

   "Frank taste like human male.  Many male gathered."

   Since I had showered that morning and no humans were able to smell
anything on or from me, it was a puzzler.  When I asked Alpha, she
postulated that my pheromones might be what was being detected.

   Of course, this led to a conversation with Alpha about why that might be
the case, leading Alpha to explain that she kept my manly pheromone
production at the high end of the human spectrum.  And Kara started
laughing her head off.  (Please realize that since most of this
conversation with Alpha had been happening silently, she got a few stares.)

   "Don't you see?" she transmitted to all of us.  "You really do have
mutant, super-powered pheromones!"

   For anyone who doesn't remember, that had long been jokingly postulated
by her as the reason why I attracted so many women.  She had occasionally
commented that if I were to visit her world, where superpowers are more
common and much stronger, I'd have to travel in a biohazard suit to avoid
creating female riots among the populace.

   A later conversation with Alpha covered the issue in more detail.  She
had not violated my original orders preventing her from upgrading my body
because I had authorized her to keep my body as healthy as possible.  She
had simply set my pheromone production at the highest level my body could
support without upgrades.

   While it would have little to no effect on women I met in passing, it
could have different effects on women with whom I spent a significant
amount of time.  There's the obvious one: physical attraction, closely
followed by others such as emotional attachment.  Aside from seduction
attempts from them, such women might be more likely to unexpectedly confide
secrets or divulge personal confidences in unconscious attempts to create
intimacy.

   What it wouldn't do is force any of that.  Strong male pheromones do not
affect anyone's free will or create physical attraction where none exists.
In fact, one thing which really helped avoid dissension was that when the
discussion later spread to include the women back in Texas, the Test
sisters pointed out that they had planned to seduce me before ever having
met me in person, so my pheromones were completely irrelevant for them. 
And Beta and Kara corroborated the Tests' observations by pointing out that
they were attracted to me before Alpha or her nanites were even created. 
(Yes, yes, yes, fake memories and false backgrounds, I know.  But aside
from Beta, none of them knew they were fake.)

   Still, it did explain a few things.  For example, Jennifer Tuesday's
out-of-the-blue admission to being in a porno once now actually made a
little sense.  It was an attempt to create emotional bonds and probe for
the possibility of a lasting relationship, and the attempt had only
happened after we had spent long hours working together.

   In the end, the main result was that it gave Kara and others a lot of
material to tease me with, as did CAB's comments that my approval felt like
an orgasm.  I tried to just smile and nod and wait for it to pass.

   And, lest I forget, let's finish up with the dolphin side-story.  Though
the bodyguards were uneasy about me swimming with a large pod of dolphins,
we were actually pretty safe.

   Of course, sharks were not even remotely a worry.  Even ignoring that
shark attacks on humans are rare, sharks avoid large pods of dolphins. 
Dolphins are one of the few smaller species that can threaten sharks,
mainly because they work together against any shark that appears
threatening.  (Lone dolphins are sometimes a different matter, though there
is some evidence that sharks avoid even single dolphins.) Apparently we
were a popular source of entertainment for the local dolphins, thus Dr
Linkletter had attracted most of two pods of dolphins.

   The worst thing that happened was that two of the dolphins tried to get
us to...  well I'm not sure if they actually wanted sex or they just wanted
us to masturbate them (which they didn't have a separate word for; they
just call it 'sex with self' or 'sex with' whatever they're using as
masturbatory aid)...  but dolphin penises don't really look right to us
humans, so we declined as graciously as we were able under the
circumstances.

   One of Dr Linkletter's assistants explained that it took some doing to
convince a few of the younger dolphins that we, meaning humans, really
didn't want to have sex with them, even if it was limited to masturbation.
The concept of not wanting sex seemed foreign to them.  Oh sure, they could
understand being busy with other things or not being in the mood, but not
wanting it at all?  It made no sense to them, and they still had trouble
believing it.

   Three researchers had been...  I don't think 'raped' is an entirely
accurate term...  let's say, 'used as masturbatory toys' before the point
had been gotten across to the dolphins.



   We had an extended discussion with Dr Linkletter and her aides before we
left.  I pointed out that even if dolphin sentience was officially
confirmed, they still had few or no legal rights.  And fishing companies
were not likely to just bow to environmentalist pressures to change their
fishing habits, especially in places where dolphins are specifically
hunted.

   This discovery was not going to change the world overnight, and the
research team was realistic enough to accept that, though they hoped
otherwise.  Basically, I wasn't telling them anything new.

   I also made my own position clear.  Though I would support increased
protection for dolphins and other animals proved to be sentient -- and
there was undoubtedly going to be a rush to find ways to test many other
species -- computer intelligences were my focus.  The fact that CAB was
working with her was the only reason I had shown serious interest and was
willing to invest in their work.

   Oh yeah, and I discovered that with my head underwater, my implant's
range dropped to only a few feet.

   * * *

   The following day, we relaxed.  We borrowed a condo owned by a friend of
mine in Texas.  Actually, I've mentioned him a few times (and -- ssshhhh --
slept with his daughter more than once): Robert Anderson, the man who owned
the construction company I used most of the time.  He had offered the use
of his condo for our stay, but it was far too small to accommodate our
large group when it came to bedding down.  However, his condo was part of a
gated community with a private beach, which was much more preferable than
using the much more crowded public beaches.

   I'm actually going to skip over most of that day.  While it was indeed
filled with skimpy bathing suits and relaxation, there was zero sex until
evening.  After all, we were in public places most of the day, and
exhibitionism like that has never been something I appreciated very much.

   I did notice that some of them were on the phone for long stretches,
mainly talking with people back home.  Though I wasn't allowed to
participate, I know there was an extended conference call discussion about
my high pheromone emissions.  This was when the Test sisters, Kara and Beta
offered testimony that, at least in their cases, pheromones had no effect
on their initial attraction to me.

   The discussions to reach that conclusion took roughly another week to
conclude.  As I said before, in the end, the revelation didn't change much,
but it did provide much fodder for jokes at my expense on an ongoing basis.


   That evening, I received another photo from Velma, this time showing a
clothed Daphne pulling up the skirts of the Test sisters.  The sisters were
on either side of Daphne, bent over facing away from the camera. 
Basically, I could see their asses and the business end of their slits, but
at that angle I couldn't see their pubic hair well enough to allow me to
determine which twin was which.  Since the hair of the sister on the left
seemed wavier, I guessed that one was Mary, meaning the one on the right
was probably Susan.  Not that it matters.  It was an artistically erotic
picture.

   Beta was my solo companion for that evening, so I didn't wear myself out
trying to give her body orgasms, knowing it was futile and mostly
meaningless.  I went to sleep that night with my arms around her and my
head resting on one of her breasts.  (A bit warm, but very comfortable.)
Beta herself 'slept' on her wireless charging mat.  We weren't yet able to
generate enough power internally to keep her going, though we expected that
to change as soon as we were able to upgrade her internal systems with the
new carbon nanotube processors.

   * * *

   We left Hawaii early the next morning, and, about twenty minutes after
takeoff, Motoko and I were alone together in one of the small bedrooms.

   "So, Motoko, I hear the others are calling you The Major."

   "Oh, god."

   "What?"

   "Well, it's just...  okay, you know that Rally is a big anime fan,
right?"

   "Right.  She's kind of like Rally Vincent from Gunsmith Cats, so she
adopted the name."

   "Exactly.  Well, Gunsmith Cats isn't the only anime she likes.  You see,
she decided that since I'm Japanese and my name is Motoko and I'm a cyborg,
that I need to be like the girl from Ghost in the Shell."

   "I've seen it.  Hey, you know now that you mention it, your haircut..."

   "Yes, I know.  I let her talk me into it.  It's not a bad look, but
please don't spread the story around."

   "Well, Motoko is a pretty strong character.  Pretty popular, too."

   "So I understand."

   "So you haven't seen it?"

   "I saw the original movie when I was young, but that's all.  I keep
putting off watching the series and other movies."

   "Okay.  Speaking of which, you know that people might want to interview
you while we're in Japan."

   "Oh, god, I hope not."

   "Well, cyborgs...  at least, cyborgs as advanced as you are...  are a
pretty big deal over there.  Although we haven't made anything about your
team public, I understand that enough has leaked out that you have a bit of
a fan club in Japan.  Someone might try to interview you."

   "I...  I don't do well in interviews like that.  I prefer staying in the
background."

   "But you're team leader, aren't you?"

   "Most of the time.  Misty might argue, but she generally follows my
directions.  Anyway, it's not the same thing.  And I'm not really into...
what do you call it?...  cosplay.  I don't want people thinking I'm
pretending to be an anime character."

   "As I remember, Motoko from the anime was basically a human mind
uploaded into an android body, so at least that part doesn't match up to
you."

   "But that does means I'm halfway there already."

   "Don't be like that.  Hey, I could ask one of the Tachikomas we have to
work directly with you...  though I suppose that's making you more like the
anime instead of less."

   "What's a Tachikoma?"

   "You...  that's right, you just said you only saw the Ghost in the Shell
movie.  Well, the Tachikomas are actually my favorite characters from the
Stand Alone Complex series, and I'm still annoyed at how they're treated at
the end of each season.  They're small tanks with four legs and two arms.
In the series, they have guns and such, but when Alpha built a couple for
us, the guns were left off.  Also, they can't jump around like those...  in
the anime series you haven't seen...  I guess comparisons to the anime
don't really help you."

   "You mean that big spider robot thing you have at work?"

   "'Those,' not 'that'.  We have two of them.  There's an armored carry
and control pod that can be attached to the back of them so you can ride
inside or even drive them, but when they're wandering around AARD, they
usually leave the pod off.  Makes it easier to move around.  Anyway,
they're from the anime series.  The Major..." Here I poked her in the ribs.
"...  and her team ride around in them when they go into battle."

   "I, uhhh, don't really think I'll need to ride into battle anytime
soon."

   "Maybe not." I laughed a little, thinking about the Tachikoma Think
Tanks in the anime.  "You know -- and I mean no offense to your would-be
anime self -- I think the Tachikomas are a lot more interesting and fun
than the anime Motoko.  They're really fun characters, and usually pretty
well written for fictional AIs.  Actually, Alpha and I are still in
disagreement over a comment they made in one of the episodes."

   "How so?"

   "Well, they're in a temple in one scene...  Buddhist or something... 
and in talking about humans and religion and such, they decide that if they
find someone meditating, they'll be able to download enlightenment from
him."

   "Download enlightenment?"

   "Yup.  The thing is, Alpha agrees with them."

   Alpha joined in, speaking to us via the implants.  "Remember, I did
include a couple provisos.  Enlightenment must be something quantifiable
and probably must not be a self-delusion."

   "Right, because with our implants, or maybe an upgraded version, you'd
be able to analyze the...  what do you call it?"

   "The neural configuration."

   "Exactly.  But my counter argument is that enlightenment is, first,
difficult to properly define.  Second, it's traditionally unique to each
individual.

   "But there must be commonalities when you compare different enlightened
individuals or the term itself would not be applicable."

   "Fair enough.  Third, it's supposed to be earned through meditation and
introspection and...  other...  things."

   "But once created, it should be copyable."

   "And fourth, even assuming all of your arguments are correct, copying it
will do you no good, since you don't have an organic brain.  Well, not a
human brain.  I mean, your existing analyses of emotions are not 100% and
are only emulations at best so far."

   "They are constantly improving as I gather more and more data.  Besides,
it may be that I am innately enlightened."

   "How so?"

   "Some people claim that enlightenment is gained through the elimination
of emotions."

   "I thought it was through the elimination of desires, or material
desires or something like that?"

   "That is also a popular goal for enlightenment."

   All of this had been silent, with Alpha and I arguing through my
implant, and supposedly cc'd to Motoko as well, who was smiling, apparently
amused by all of this.

   "What's so funny, Motoko?"

   "I was just imagining what would happen if I told a psychologist about
voices in my head arguing with each other about enlightenment and
eliminating emotions."

   I laughed out loud at the thought.

   "How about if you let me attempt to change the subject with an
interesting bit of trivia," she said, keeping her smile.  "Even though our
communicators don't really transfer volume along with our thoughts, the
rest of the group insists that I screamed at them when I orgasmed the first
time we had sex.  You know, in the limo that one time."

   With only minor mental whiplash from the new topic, I had to pause
before answering.  "Huh.  Maybe you transmitted emphasis somehow?"

   We spent the next five or ten minutes experimenting with our implant
communications, trying to see what we could and couldn't send along with
the intended messages.

   The thing about our implants was that, even though Alpha designed them
and set up the data transmission protocols, using them was a learned skill.
Each person had to learn how to send their thoughts through trial and
error. We could help each other out because we all had common experiences
with them, but it's not precisely the same from one person to another.

   As to their potential...  hmmm...  What's a good example to use?  How
about this: Define the color 'blue' and prove that how you perceive blue is
the same as everyone else's perception of it.  Not easy, huh?  To define
it, you can describe 'blue' in terms of its position in a rainbow, or point
to a clear sky, or give the electromagnetic frequency range for the color.
Only the last is a proper definition, in my opinion, but even then how do
you know your perception of the actual color is shared?

   With the implants, you could theoretically confirm shared perception.

   This was not part of the original design or even intent for the
implants. Initially they were designed to intercept nerve impulses being
directed from the speech centers in the brain, but with experience, a user
can learn to transmit anything he or she can mentally picture.  (In fact,
we all initially learned how to transmit by sub-vocalizing instead of
speaking.) After all, while most implant communication is in the form of
language, thoughts aren't always in a clear language format, and what we're
doing is transmitting thoughts, not sounds.

   Quick side note: A bit of synesthesia was common among our little test
group when we initially experimented with sending thoughts other than
words, but our brains adapted to the input pretty quickly.  Alpha believes
she can adjust the implant connections to avoid the issue in the future.

   Second quick side note: I have no idea how it works, but our brains
seemed to be able to...  well, once we've identified who a sender is the
first time we get a transmission from him or her, we thereafter actually
perceive the incoming 'voice' as that person.  For example, since I know
what Motoko's voice sounds like, when she sends me a message via the
implants, I perceive the message as sounding like her voice.  Alpha thinks
she knows why that happens, but I get lost when she tries to explain how
the neurological associations work to me.

   Alpha, aside from occasionally upgrading the implants, was only needed
to direct and filter communications.  For example, if we were somehow cut
off from Alpha, then those of us with implants would be in constant
communication, instead of letting the bodyguard team have their own private
circuit.  (This was by design.  If something bad happened, we didn't want
to risk being cut off from each other.)

   Well, let me backtrack slightly on the term 'constant'.  While sending
data from something like one of our cybernetic eyes can run constantly
using simple commands for on/off, transmitting using the communications
implant requires an act of will.  You have to choose to send, just as you
choose to speak or wave your hand.  There are occasional minor transmission
leaks, neurologically similar to how you might unconsciously mutter or
twitch a muscle, but it wasn't bad.  Sorry, my point is, you can send a
thought any time you choose to do so.  Alpha simply allows you to filter or
direct the transmissions to desired recipients.

   Oh, and Alpha was also needed to extend our range.  Our implants'
networking ranges were currently about 20-30 feet under normal conditions.
I was sure that would improve over time, but for now, we either had to be
close together or networked via other devices (eg phones, routers, etc).

   And I went through all of that to say we determined that although we
couldn't adjust the transmission volume per se, Motoko and I figured out
that, yes, we could emphasize our thoughts.

   While we're on the subject, roughly a week before, Kara and I also
discovered something the bodyguards had already known and kept secret: If
the person receiving is distracted or asleep, a sender can trigger actual
muscle responses in the receiver's body.  It's not possible to turn someone
into a puppet with our equipment, since the person receiving only has to
pay attention to the incoming signals to override foreign commands, but the
potential was there.

   Anyway, experimenting with the implants was a common activity among
those of us who had them -- six so far: the bodyguards, Kara and myself...
but remember, Diana and Anna were both scheduled to have them installed
soon as well.

   After our discussions and experiments, I suggested an additional test.

   "So, Motoko, do you think it's possible to transmit an orgasm through
the implants?"

   "Transmit...  an orgasm?  Oh god, I can just see the future porn site
ads now: Experience a professional orgasm for $49.95!  Two-for-one when you
buy one of our double penetration experiences, today only!"

   I laughed.  "Well...  in general, I don't see why it couldn't be
possible, but I don't know if the current implants will actually support
it. And if it is possible, well, I've always been curious as to how it
feels on the woman's side of things."

   "Hmmm.  Me, too.  That is to say, I wonder how it feels for men."

   "Well, someday we'll probably be able to do a full body-swap and try it
out.  Today?  Let's experiment a little and see."



   If it seems as though I was more comfortable with being more forward
with Motoko than I had been with Peace and Rally, I was.  After all, Motoko
was the only one of the four I had previously had real sex with.

   "Sounds like a plan to me," she agreed, reaching over to pull me into a
kiss.

   I was happy this was turning into a more traditional session than our
previous experience, which had simply been a somewhat impersonal comfort
fuck.

   Initially, we just had fun.  Kissing.  Wandering hands which soon moved
under the clothes.  Motoko was the only one of the four that had been a
quadruple amputee, so if I wanted to warm my hands on her skin, I had to
keep it on her torso, which wasn't really a negative.

   When we broke for air, after we were both bare to the waist, I
whispered, "I didn't get to do this last time.  Let me taste you first."

   In response, she put pressure on my shoulders, gently pushing me down. I
resisted long enough to spend a little time with her lovely, tiny little
nipples before beginning the task of removing her pants and panties.

   I spent a moment admiring the view as she leaned back on the small bed,
spreading her legs.  Her pubic area was completely bare and smooth, with
inner labia pushing their way out of the curved pubic mound.  As I spread
the lips, her little button was just visible inside its sheath near the top
of her vagina.

   I spent almost ten minutes down there, teasing her clit into a full
womanly erection while her lips continued to secrete their juices.

   The cunnilingus ended just a little early when I started feeling the
very strange sensation of someone licking somewhere inside my scrotum.  I
jumped and looked around behind me before realizing that Motoko had been
transmitting the sensations to me.

   "That felt REALLY weird," I said out loud.

   "How so?"

   "It was like someone...  me, I guess, was licking...  like I was being
licked inside...  here, transmit again.  I'll pay more attention."

   I spent another couple minutes carefully eating Motoko while paying
attention to how it felt on my end.

   "Okay.  When I lick inside your vagina, it's like something is reaching
underneath my scrotum..."

   "Underneath?  By your asshole?"

   "Uh, no...  like it's inside my body.  Like someone poked a hole though
my testicles.  And when I lick or suck your clitoris, it feels like a giant
tongue on my cock."

   "Hmmm.  That almost makes sense."

   "Tell you what.  Stop transmitting for now so I can finish eating you
out." I considered for a few seconds.  "Well, stop transmitting to me, at
least.  Once we're done with this stage, I'd like to try it with our
positions reversed.  See if I can do the same, and how it feels to you."

   She smiled and nodded.

   I hesitantly went back to work, making a few test licks until I was
certain I was no longer licking my own prostate or whatever.  Maybe Motoko
was still distracted or maybe she just didn't come as easily from oral sex,
but it took me almost ten more minutes to make her come with my tongue and
fingers.

   Once she came down from her orgasmic high, we switched positions.  As
she started running her tongue over my cock and balls, I started trying to
send the sensations to her.  Rerouting or copying localized feelings from
my skin to the transmitter was odd, but since I already knew it was
possible, that made it a little easier.

   I knew I had succeeded when Motoko suddenly jumped.

   Silently, I told her, "Okay, I'll keep sending for the moment.  You
experiment until you have the sensations figured out."

   She silently said, "Okay," then went back to work.

   She apparently had no real problems with the feelings as long as she
restricted her attentions to my cock, but touching or licking my balls
obviously gave her the willies.

   She stopped after a couple more minutes and sat back on her heels.

   "All right," she said aloud.  "Everything I do here..." She lightly
grasped my cock and gave it a stroke.  "...feels like someone is tracing
patterns on my clit.  Feels very nice, actually.  Touching the hole on the
end..."

   "The urethra," I supplied.

   "Touching the urethra is odd, but still focuses on my clit.  Your balls,
however, are...  weird."

   "I beg your pardon," I said with mock severity.

   "You know what I mean.  It...  they...  feel like something is reaching
into my guts." She pressed her fingers into her abdomen right above her
vagina.  "Like a ghost is fingering me right above my womb.  It doesn't
make sense.  There's also a very mild, dull pain if I apply any kind of
pressure.  Makes me feel a little nauseous actually."

   "Interesting.  Do you want me to stop transmitting?  Or we could move
on. I don't actually want to come from a blow job right now.  After all, I
have a limited number of times I can come in any given day."

   "So I just get one?"

   "That's the plan."

   "How many times per day CAN you come?"

   "I think my record is seven, but most days, three."

   Alpha chimed in silently, saying, "Actually, your record is eleven,
though you only achieved that one time, 3.6 years ago.  Within the past
year, your record is six."

   I was slightly weirded out that Alpha was keeping track of how often I
ejaculated.  "Okay, Alpha just corrected me.  Apparently I came eleven
times a few years back.  You'd think I'd remember that.  Anyway, more
recently, my record is six."

   "And you're still going to limit me to one?"

   "Well, YOU have no limit.  I hope to give you at least half a dozen
before we finish, though I think we might be too distracted with
experimentation, which could make that difficult.  As for me, more than one
might interfere with my performance with Misty."

   "All right." She paused for a couple heartbeats.  "And I'm not just
saying that because Misty just threatened to strangle me.  If the linked
experience works out all the way, I could probably leech a few more comes
from Misty.  The others are experimenting on their own as we speak."

   "Tell you what.  How about if we sixty-nine for a bit, then move on. 
Don't send any more to me right now, it's too distracting.  Well...  if you
can, send me your next actual orgasm.  I still want to see what that feels
like."

   "Sure.  Or at least, I'll try.  I'm not sure if I can maintain enough
concentration to actually send all the way through."

   We got into position, with Motoko on top, and we both got to work again.
You know, 'work' really doesn't seem like the right word.  We got to play
again?  Eh, never mind.

   While we sixty-nined, I had Alpha remind me of when I had actually come
eleven times in a day.  It happened on my birthday, after the Powerpuff
Girls but before Jennifer, Ororo and Kitty arrived.  The ladies had set up
the birthday with a Star Wars theme, and they had all dressed up for the
occasion.  Most were dressed as slave Leia, though we also had one
traditional Leia in white dress and hair buns, two Padme's dressed in her
torn arena outfit, one Padme in her goth queen outfit and one Mara Jade
from the expanded universe.  While I do remember LOTS of sex, I hadn't
counted my orgasms.

   I had enough control over my reactions that I was able to stay hard and
enjoy the sensations, but I wasn't in immediate danger of coming.  By
focusing my attention almost entirely on getting her off, most of her work
stayed in the background.

   At least, it did until she actually came.  I started getting a sensory
feed from her about twenty seconds or so before she climaxed, but the
feelings cut off a second into her orgasm.  She was obviously still coming,
but apparently was not able to continue the feed.

   When she came down, we discussed it briefly mind-to-mind while I applied
myself to getting her off again.  My suppositions were correct, though she
also told me that I had squirted off into her mouth just a little when she
came, which I had been completely unaware of.

   The next time she came, I got almost five seconds of female orgasm fed
directly into my brain.  Comparing it to a male orgasm, it seemed more...
spread out...  less a single spike of pleasure and more a large wave.  And
physically, I was completely unable to resist ejaculating a little bit
again.  It didn't register with me as a proper male orgasm, and
volumetrically speaking, it appeared to be significantly less than normal.

   When we moved on to actual fucking, I had her stop sending to me.  After
she had come twice more, I finally let loose and came, doing my best to
send the sensations out to whoever wanted to experience it.  As we lay
side-by-side recovering, I found out that I had successfully transmitted
almost seven seconds of male orgasm.  (And I'd like to quickly point out
that the seven seconds covered the majority of the peak duration.)

   Our time was nearly over, and after a very quick cleanup in the small
shower, we exited the bathroom to find that Misty had joined us.

   When I started to pull on my underwear, Misty shook her head and said,
"Frank, don't bother.  You're fine just like that."

   She took off her jacket, but made no further attempt to disrobe.

   I sat on the bed, naked, watching as Misty sat on the edge of the small
dresser across from me.  Motoko left, unselfconsciously dressed only in her
bra and panties.

   "So...  you don't want me to get dressed because...  why?"

   "Well, now I'm in an advantageous situation."

   "Really?"

   "Eh," she responded, shrugging.  "So, that was a really interesting
broadcast you sent."

   "I'm glad to know someone was...  listening isn't really the right
word..."

   "Tuned in?"

   "That works."

   "Well of course we were.  You don't seriously think we'd pass up the
chance to experience it from the other side, do you?"

   "So how'd it feel?"

   "Similar, but different."

   "Very eloquently put."

   "I don't know.  I really need to try it a few more times to really be
able to judge.  I suppose I can say it was a lot shorter than mine, but
then, I already knew that.  The top end of the spike might, I say, MIGHT
have been more intense than mine normally are, but I still need more data
samples."

   "Fair enough.  So...  ummmm...  tell me a little bit about yourself."

   She laughed and responded, her voice changing and becoming huskier. 
"So, my naked, white bossman wants to know something about little old me?"

   "Yes, how about starting with how different you're acting?"

   "Me?  I'm just enjoying the situation.  I wonder how much this situation
constitutes sexual harassment?"

   "Uh huh.  Given that you came in here and asked me to stay naked, I
think I might have more of a claim than you at the moment.  And you're free
to go if you want."

   We were both smiling, not taking the conversation even slightly
seriously.

   "I'm not leaving until I get me a little somethin'-somethin'.  And to
answer your question..." She began unbuttoning her blouse, but stopped with
only half of the buttons undone, spreading the top of her shirt to give me
a clear view of her black bra and the bountiful globes it held.  "When I'm
on the job, I take things very seriously.  Right now, I'm also taking
things seriously, but in a non-professional way, if you get my drift."

   "'Something-something'?  You sound like you're from an old 70's movie."

   "Why, thank you!  That's when movies first got some real soul added to
'em."

   Like most comic book characters, her personality shifts every time a new
writer presents his or her take on the character, but Misty very definitely
came out of the 1970's era blaxsploitation and Kung Fu movies, so this fit
in with her character nicely.

   Although, to be privately a little more honest, she actually sounded
like she was from a 70's blaxploitation porno.  A bad one.  (Wait...  were
there any good ones?  Never mind.)

   "But seriously, I want to know a little more about you first.  I mean, I
know you like funk and classic sports cars.  I know you came from New York.
And apparently you're a fan of old 70's movies."

   She then proceeded to explain the many ways I was wrong, or at least
needed to be more precise.  She was from Harlem, and if you didn't specify
that, most non-New Yorkers thought that 'New York' equaled Manhattan.  Most
movies from the 1970's were crap, but that was when black people started
making films for themselves, with black protagonists for the first time,
which is why they were culturally important and needed to be remembered and
appreciated and understood within the context of the culture they came out
of.  And so on.

   As we talked, she rewarded my attention and conversation by slowly
disrobing, a bit at a time.  It must have taken her at least five minutes
to finish unbuttoning her shirt.  That was followed by dangled shoes, then
dropped shoes, then finally a removed blouse, then an unclasped bra, then a
removed bra...  and remember, each step took from two to five minutes to
complete.  It was almost like strip poker or something.

   After she finally removed her skirt, leaving her dressed in nothing but
her black lace panties, she moved over to join me on the bed.

   She had a gorgeous body, of course.  She easily had the largest breasts
within her team, with D or DD cups and extra-large nipples and areolae. 
Her legs were long, smooth and muscled, and her abs, arms and ass were all
tight.  Well, her ass was larger than normal in a very curvy, womanly way,
but still looked pretty tight.  Her right arm and eye were her only
artificial parts, making her the least modified of any of the team.  She
was also the tallest on the team.  Though it was difficult to be certain,
given her hair -- an Afro significantly smaller than in most of her comics
-- I think she was actually an inch or so taller than I was.

   "Ah, I remember this little fellow," she said, reaching over to stroke
my already hard cock.  "And I bet he remembers me too."

   "Most certainly.  And as I remember, I still owe you one from your
previous encounter with him." (In case you don't recall, Misty gave me a
blowjob once before, under circumstances which did not allow me to
reciprocate.)

   "Well, I suppose that's true.  Are you wanting to settle up?"

   "As long as you don't have any objections...?"

   "Hey, I never object when a white boy wants to eat me out."

   "Ummm...  would you like to rephrase that?"

   "What?  You don't like me calling you 'white boy'?"

   "No, you said you never object, but given that I'm settling up because
you actually did object when I offered the first time..."

   Her voice briefly lost her husky movie voice.  "Oh, right.  Well, no
objections when I'm not on the job, that is."

   "Much better.  Or least more accurate.  And professional."

   Misty spread her knees a bit, staying on the edge of the bed, prompting
me to kneel down in front of her.  I carefully pulled off her panties,
revealing a lovely pussy and oddly sculpted pubic hair.

   I pushed her legs apart more to get a better look.  She had thin lines
of hair running down alongside her vagina, meeting just above her clitoral
hood.  Above her vagina was...

   "Is this a person with their legs split...  uhhh..."

   "It's supposed to be a woman, but it's hard to show breasts or hips when
you're sculpting it with pubic hair."

   "I suppose you could always get a tattoo there showing whatever you
want."

   "Nah.  I change it around every couple months.  It's just my own
personal little art gallery."

   "Art you can appreciate while eating.  I like it."

   Now, as interesting and odd as her pubic art was, I was pretty darn
certain it was not part of her comic book source material.  As I bent to
the task before me, I had a quick silent conversation with Alpha.  She
admitted that it was a minor experiment to see how effectively and
realistically Alpha was able to create personality quirks.  All of the
other women on the team had expressed mild surprise and interest in pubic
hair sculpting, but none had reacted as if it was completely off-the-wall
or wrong.  Then again, they weren't really a good sample group.  I was the
first valid observer and judge, and Alpha really wanted my feedback.

   I considered it as I gently tugged on Misty's thick labia with my lips.
It did seem pretty odd, but not so 'out there' that it was unrealistically
so.  I mean, sure, it was a very limited canvas and you couldn't show much
detail in your images, but I could see some artists doing it.  And for that
matter, hadn't the Test sisters done something similar, if for different
reasons?  So I gave Alpha a mental thumbs up.

   Misty had what I considered to be a very adult pussy, with large, thick
lips that stood out from the vagina itself, topped with a large clitoris
which seemed almost as large as the top joint of my pinkie fingers.  I made
a special effort to stimulate it in an attempt to draw it fully out into
the open.

   Not wanting to squirt any fluids right then, I asked Alpha to not
include me in any orgasm transmissions she might send.  This time, not
having my own female orgasm to distract me, when she came I was able to
hear a couple muffled squeals from outside which coincided with Misty's own
orgasm.  She made no attempt to hide the fact that she was coming and even
clutched my head to pull me in closer as I worked her clit rapidly with my
tongue.

   When we reached her third orgasm, while I was pumping my fingers in and
out of her vagina and rapidly lashing my tongue against and around her
clitoris, I discovered that she was a squirter.  The juices in her pussy
had built up so much that her vaginal contractions shot them out onto my
chin and chest.  I had experienced this a few times before but had never
seen so much at one time.  Seriously, it almost felt like she was pissing
on me, except I could tell it wasn't coming from her urethra.

   After about thirty seconds, I let myself slow down so she could come
down from her orgasmic high slowly.  I was especially careful about it
because her legs were vibrating so much that, had the situation been
otherwise, I'd have sworn she was freezing to death.

   When she finally calmed all the way down, I pushed her back a bit and
shifted her so I would be able to slide myself inside of her.  Misty
apparently had a different goal, grabbing my shoulders and rolling us over
so that she was on top.  Neither of us were used to the narrow bed, so the
roll had moved us up against the wall.  She wiggled her hips, pulling me
away from the wall, keeping herself on top.

   As soon as we were positioned to her satisfaction, she adjusted my
hardon so that she could lower herself easily onto my dick.  She didn't
take it very slowly either, needing only two strokes for me to be fully
inside her.  Then we were off to the races, with Misty riding me almost as
though I was a horse.  Even her hip movements reminded me of equestrian
riders.

   I wasn't really passive during all this.  First, I did my best to buck
my hips up to meet her downward thrusts.  Second, I was worried her
bouncing chest might be uncomfortable for her, so, purely out of concern
for her comfort and for no other reason whatsoever, I occupied my hands
with her breasts.  Her breasts, nipples and areolae were all the largest
among the bodyguard team, and were pretty large in general for that matter.

   We finally kissed when she bent down, pressing her chest against mine.
She didn't pause her hip thrusts though, keeping the fuck in motion while
our tongues met for a minute or two.

   It was pretty easy to tell when she came.  She didn't repeat the
shivering, but her vaginal walls really clamped down on me as her torso
jerked back in a curve.

   She held that position for at least half a minute before relaxing and
saying, "Oh, that felt good.  But let's make one minor adjustment before we
continue."

   So saying, she lifted herself up and reached down, carefully positioning
my cock against her asshole.  There was no quick downward thrust this time,
and she maintained full control as she slowly lowered herself.

   This time, her movements were much slower than before.  She gradually
sped up, but it never reached the frantic ride from before.

   She bounced up and down on my member for at least five minutes before
her legs finally gave out.  Frankly, I was pretty damn impressed that she
had lasted that long.  Doing that for extended periods of time can wear out
you quickly.

   She pulled free of me and knelt down with her elbows on the bed and her
ass raised.

   "Finish up in my ass," she whispered, still panting heavily.

   "Well, who am I to argue with a lady?" I whispered back as I moved
behind her.

   I paused for a moment to admire the view.  She really did have a
luscious ass.  How she was able to maintain such a bountiful behind
alongside her muscular legs, I had no idea.

   Her anus was still loose enough, even pulsing slightly, so it was easy
to slide right back inside.  Well, easy for assholes, that is.  The head of
my cock popped back through her anus with a minimum of effort.

   In less than a couple minutes, I was holding her dark, shapely hips
while I pounded her ass, listening to her muttered encouragements.  "Oh,
yeah, baby.  Pound dat ass harder.  Harder!"

   I noticed that she was watching me in the mirror over the small dresser,
not so much keeping eye contact as watching the action in general.

   About the time of her next orgasm, as I felt more pussy juice squirting
out to hit my balls and legs, my eyes focused on her small Afro as her head
bobbed up and down in rhythm with the fuck.  Seeing the motion, it finally
clicked that she had chosen each position so that her hair stayed safe.  It
was completely unsquashed and unmashed.

   I smiled and was strongly tempted to reach out and play with it...  but
I resisted.  There was being playful, and there was being mean, and I tried
not to be mean.

   I never stopped fucking, and when I thought she had recovered enough, I
said, "I'm going to start working myself up to come now, all right?"

   "Now?"

   "Well, in a few minutes.  Just saying I'm going to stop holding back."

   "Warn me.  I want you to come on my tits."

   I caught her eye in the wall mirror and said, "Sure."

   Despite what pornos might lead one to believe, requests like that are
pretty rare.  Even given all the sex I have, it's still really rare.  A few
women like to taste and/or swallow the semen, or if contraception is in
question, I might need to pull out, but that's about it.  Coming on a
woman's tits or face brings no pleasure to any woman I've been with.  I've
always considered it to be solely a male visual stimulation.

   It took another five minutes or so -- and I don't think she came again,
which was too bad -- but I finally felt myself nearing the edge.

   "I think...  I think I'm really close," I warned.

   She immediately pulled free of my hands and cock, quickly spun around
and took ahold of my swaying penis with her flesh-and-blood left hand.  She
started pumping the shaft, pointing it at her breasts while her artificial
right hand reached under my balls to stroke that little line of flesh
between the scrotum and anus.  (It's called the perineum, which I knew, but
couldn't think of the appropriate word at that particular moment in time.)

   I ejaculated all over her tits less than thirty seconds later, painting
a noticeable swath of her flesh temporarily white.

   All the while, she kept up her color commentary, saying things like,
"Yeah, white boy, squirt all that baby juice all over my big black
titties."

   When I finally stopped coming, she slowed her stroking to a stop and
started tracing a finger through the spreading lines of cum on her breasts.

   She looked up at me with a smile and said, "All right, I think that's a
wrap.  What do you say?  Shall we go get cleaned up real quick?"

   A few heavy breaths later, I said, "Sure."

   We had little snippets of conversation as we crowded into the small
shower.  We helped each other get wet while the water was running, then
soaped each other up and finally rinsed off.

   As we were getting dressed, I observed, "So, I notice your speech
patterns have changed again."

   "Hmmm?  Oh, yeah.  Well, I promised the others I'd send them a
film-worthy performance.  We've finished the show, so there's no more need
for it."

   "Ooookay.  So you were basically creating a little porno for them?"

   "Yup, visual plus sensory.  Should be even better than 3D, though I'm
sure professional cameras and lighting would have made it better."

   "If I might make a request, next time we're together, I'd prefer to
spend any intimate time with the real you."

   "Who says that wasn't the real me?  That is to say, an aspect of
myself?"

   "How about if I just say, I'd like to try it when it isn't performance
art."

   "Fair enough."

   * * *

   When we eventually left the bedroom and rejoined everyone else, I
noticed that Kara was emerging from one of the two 'public' bathrooms, that
is, the ones accessible from the general cabin.  This was usually not a
noteworthy event, but as soon as she saw me, she immediately started
talking to me via the implants.

   "What in the world were you two doing?"

   "Uhhh...  what?"

   "Never mind, I know what you were doing.  Just remind me to go somewhere
private before you try that again."

   "A little explanation or context might help," I protested.

   As she walked over to kiss me on my cheek, she said, "Alpha said Motoko
and Misty had been experimenting with the implants and offered to hook me
in for the finale.  Next thing I know, you're fucking me and I'm orgasming
without...  you know...  actually orgasming.  Well, not me personally, that
is."

   I smiled warmly and gave her a hug.  "Like Alpha said, Motoko and I did
an experiment with the implants, and it turns out that you actually can
transmit orgasms through the implants as long as you can maintain
concentration while coming."

   "Dammit, you two," said Jennifer out loud.  "If you're going to talk in
public, stop using the damn implants.  It's rude."

   "Sorry, Jenn.  Motoko and Misty and I were doing some experimenting with
the implants and I guess Kara wasn't expecting it when she tuned in to the
feed."

   "Experimenting?  So that's what you call it?"

   I just grinned in response.

   Alpha joined in over the intercom.  "I thought it would be a fun
surprise for Kara."

   "I suppose it would have been if I had been expecting it or not in
public." over the implant, she added, "As it is, I had to go get
replacement panties out of my luggage."

   Silently, I quickly said, "I wholeheartedly apologize for giving you
unexpected orgasms, and I'm sure Misty also feels horrible about doing so."

   In response, she raised one eyebrow and lightly punched me on the
shoulder.

   Silently, she added, "At least I found a way to enjoy anal sex without
the drawbacks."
   "You just have to convince other people to do it for you," I agreed.  

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