This file is a part of Elf Sternberg's Collected Works on ASSTR.  The
complete archive of Elf's work can be found on his website at:

http://www.drizzle.com/~elf

The author can be contacted at:

mailto:elf@drizzle.com

  ----------------------------------------------------------------------

                             Lynn's Birthday

Journal Entry 245 / 00519

Anar, Hiss 02, 00519

The broad outdoor patio was filled with sunlight, a glowing hot day
illuminating the world around me. From here I had a beautifully clear
view of the entire valley. Which, in retrospect, may have been a mistake;
sure, I could see the whole Rhysh from here, but that also met I could
see behind the scenes. Although, Pendorian technology being what it
was, that meant I could see just a few small concrete bunkers hiding
the accesses.  It wasn't that much, and I guess only an engineer would
have really found them.

But what occupied my thoughts was that I could not for the life of me
figure out what Lynn had in mind. Lynn is the AI that runs Castle Rhysh,
here on the westward-most edge of Backwater, the enormous theme park of
Pendor, for people who just don't want to hack reality for a few day,
months, or years. Rhysh is Pendor's sexual playground, a place full
of people in roles of masters and servants, all carefully dressed in
outrageous modes of dress from the hypermodern and plasticene to the very
ancient and cumbersome. One of the more popular ways of restraining the
'slaves' recently was to simply dress them in nearly thirty kilos of
hoops, corsets, and such. Nobody runs very fast when carrying thirty
kilos.

But the note she had sent me was so cryptic. "Come to Castle Rhysh on
the ninth of Urime' for an evening you will never forget. Go to the
southern patio on the fifth floor."

I was drinking from a snifter something not quite brandy. It was quite
tasty though. Earlier I had seen a couple go by, two females, a Markal
in a gorgeous black cape leading a Mephit about by a black leather
leash. The Mephit had, as Mephits go, astoundingly large breasts,
restrained and emphasized by a tightly-laced bodice made of gleaming
leather. Now in Rhysh, this is usually no big deal. But what seized
my attention as they walked by was the splash of brilliant red at the
Mephit's throat. I focused on it and it resolved into a rose, the stem
leading downward and held between those breasts. I wondered, as they
walked by, if I should hope or fear the stem still had it's thorns.

They were long out of sight when I decided thorns were a bad idea.

The shadow of night (that's not a metaphor on Pendor) was crawling closer,
and I was starting to get just a little bored when a small, delicate
hand wrapped itself around the back of my neck and squeezed tight,
the fingernails digging just a little bit into my throat. "Don't move,
and don't say a word."

The voice was feminine and very familiar, but I could not place it for
the life of me. I waited.

The voice came close, and into my ear she whispered, "You know, Ken, in
all the years I've known you, you have never, ever bottomed out to woman.
Well, tonight, you're mine. Oh, don't worry, you'll get your chance to
enjoy a little masculinity, Kennet, but I want you to know that I'm your
Mistress tonight, and you, no matter what happens, are my plaything."

I closed my eyes. She knew me... who was she? "May as well dispense
with the formalities, Kennet, and give you a safeword... why not just
the usual? Very well... your safeword is- 'safeword.' That should be
easy enough for even you to remember."

I decided to keep quiet. I was intrigued. "If I let you go, will you
obey me?"

Inside, I fought over the idea; being a bottom is something that I usually
do only with men. But I decided to go through with it. "Yes, Mistress."
The words came with difficulty. This was rather new to me.

"Good. I had my doubts. Stand." The last word was an order, and I
complied, despite the odd inertia, the will to resist, inside me. It
required thought that I actually stand and obey a... a woman.

"Turn." I turned around and looked at my new... mistress. Her face was
familiar. I looked closely at her, examining her face. "Lynn?" I said.

She slapped me sharply across the cheek, but her voice was calm as she
spoke. "Eyes down, slave."

"Yes, mistress," I answered, complying.

"But, yes, you're right, Ken. I have gone for a transfer. I'm not an AI
anymore, and Rowan will be doing my job. I decided that you should be
the first to know." Her voice took on a tone of amusement. "Except for
my own staff, of course. Come!"

I assumed that was an order to follow her, and she led me back into the
castle. We delved deeper into the Castle, into areas the sun could not
reach and so torches sputtered on the walls. "In here," she said.

I walked through the door in front of her, into a large room with six
tables. On two of them were strapped down, on their backs, a melSatryl,
and that gorgeous femMephit with the enormous breasts I had seen earlier,
both now naked but for a sash of cloth over their genitals. "Strip, and
lie on that one," she said, pointing to the third table in the row. I
followed her order, lying down on the table and waiting. She strapped me
down, securing me to the table completely, straps over my legs, knees,
thighs. Fetters to the wrists, additional straps over each arm. A sash
similar to the others was laid across my genitalia. The table was thickly
padded, like a massage table, and I was... comfortable, as comfortable
as someone can be strapped down as I was.

Lynn loomed over the table and said, "You look so cute. You've no idea how
long I thought this out, thinking over all of the little games I'd been
able to watch you play, with Aaden, Kritt, Borodir, and the others." She
smiled. "It's given me a lot of ideas." She ran a finger along my lips.
"Oooh, don't talk," she cooed, "that pretty little mouth of your has
such a long night ahead of it.

She put a finger aside her cheek. "I suppose I could have had anyone.
Imagine: the caretaker, the owner, the very core of Rhysh coming out of
her silicon shell and having a heart, a brain, and courage." She smiled
at her little joke. "And stepping out as a mistress certainly does take
courage. You've got it so very easy, Kennet, being such a... bottomless
bottom. Your little scene with Kathy was very surprising." She leaned over
and pressed her lips to mine, gently and sweetly. "I've mastered walking
and talking... that was my first kiss. You should feel very privileged."

"Tonight there will be a party, theoretically in my honor. Rowan has
been doing my voice for almost a year now, and only the AI's know the
changeover has occurred. And Ember, your little daughter- she knows. And
now, these two, although their master's don't know it. It's going to be
something of a birthday celebration, Ken, and you are going to be one
of the centerpieces."

She left me there, with the other two slaves strapped down to tables,
and I wondered. I wasn't worried about being left alone; I was never
really alone, in Rhysh; the AI was watching. I was stunned by the little
turn of events, though. Lynn, human? As an AI her eldar-los- faunos
had always been that of a tall, blond human woman, but she never once
mentioned wanting to actually move into a human body. And who the Hell
was Rowan? I didn't know anyone name Rowan. Was she just born?

And what had she meant by my "That mouth of yours has a long night ahead
of it?"

  ----------------------------------------------------------------------

By now we were six when a new, unrecognized voice came over the speakers
in out little room. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, my name is
AI Rowan Masters, and I am your hostess for this evening. I know you
expected to hear Lynn's voice tonight as this event is in her honor,
but we have other plans. Gentles, I present to you H. Lynn Masters,
on this, her birthday."

There was a general sound of surprise, some of shock, and a scattering
of whistles.

"Good evening. Thank you for your enthusiasm. Tonight, in the common sense
of Rhysh, I would like to declare this a party of the usual proportions. I
will join in, neither mastering nor being mastered. This is my first
day in public. I want to simply eat, and listen, and touch, and taste."

The intercom went off, and the six of us were left in the dark. Time
passed.

I don't know how long. I would be willing to guess it was an hour and a
half, maybe a little longer, maybe a little less. The door swung open and
six people walked in, one to each of the tables in question. My overseer
was a tall, carefully groomed Uncia who grinned at me. He reached under
the table and pulled out a two-meter stick, held it up against the edge
of the table. He examined it carefully, reached under the table and I
heard a hydraulic hissing sound as the table dropped several cm.

Apparently he was satisfied with the height. He reached under the table
and unlatched something. The table rolled freely now, and he pushed me out
into the hallway. The trip took some time; in fact we used an elevator.
When we finally reached the outer edge of the castle it was clearly
nighttime. The Uncia rolled us out into the main Hall of the castle, and
although I could not see very much, it was clearly a very loud party in
full swing. I could hear sounds of a whipping in one corner, very loud
and replete with an occasional scream. There were other sounds, moans,
shouts, orders being given. There must have been hundreds of people
around, from the vast array of noise. As we were being wheeled to the
center of the room a burst of maniacal laughter exploded from somewhere.

The Uncia wheeled my table to a large floorspace cleared in one corner
of the hall; I was familiar with the beautiful tile work done by the
Carazzio artisans, and I wished very much I could see the floor now,
but my mistress had other plans for me. Funny... 'my mistress.' That's
still a new one for me.

He reached under the table and tightened the wheels again, then walked
around to the head of the table and reached under the platform I lay upon.
There was a 'clack' of two bolts being pulled free and the head of the
platform lowered down, my head thrown back. The pad was comfortable... No,
oh no. I knew now what I was, tonight, and I knew what Lynn had meant
by her comment.

My head was thrown back not so far as to be uncomfortable, but far enough
that the muscles that normally kept the mouth closed against gravity were
pulled, and held it open. The Uncia looked down at me with a wicked grin
and said, "Now you're getting it. Be sure not to bite anyone... at least,
as long as they don't want to be bit."

I rolled my eyes, and then Lynn's voice interrupted any comment I might
have said had I been allowed to speak. "Excuse me... but as promised,
tonight the five slaves who won last week's little contest-" (WHAT
contest?)- "have indeed been arranged over in the northwest corner of
the Hall. Oh, but there are six there, aren't there? The sixth I added,
as is my right as the new and reigning Queen of this Castle. He's an old
and dear friend. Some of you may even recognize him. Please treat him...
gently."

The first person to stand in front of me was a young melHuman with an
thick, short cock. I was exactly at crotch level for his height... He
smiled down at me and said, "So you're Lynn's own personal plaything, eh?
Let's see if you're as good as the other five are supposed to be."

He played his cock over my lips and slowly slid it into my mouth,
plying deeper and deeper. Cocksucking is something I do very rarely,
but I like to think I'm good at it. This was different, but I had yet
to say, or for that matter think, the safeword. I knew Rowan could hear
it if she needed to. But now that I knew my role in tonight's events,
I resolved to finish the night, or pass out trying.

I closed my eyes and tasted his cock, my tongue resting against the top
of him. He slid a little deeper and I enjoyed the taste, his cock plying
down into my throat, made a straight line by the simple yet ingenious
little table. This was what the table, the restraints, were all about.

He began to rock back and forth, fucking my mouth with his cock. I made
the mistake of opening my eyes for a second; I got a glimpse of the
massive hall full of sentients playing their games before I was slapped
in the face by my lovers's balls. He slid deeper into my throat, and I
greedily gobbled up his dick, feeling it stretch my throat on each soft
thrust, and he slid back and forth again and again until he groaned
quietly, his cock holding still but for the pulsing of his orgasm. I
swallow, and Lynn knows it.

He was replaced by a Markal female, who at least gave me the pleasure
of a kiss before rubbing her cunt up against my lips and demanding,
rather imperiously, that I eat her until she said stop. She must have
come several times before she finally got up off of me.

I heard her say "Wait, let him rest for a minute," as she got up. After
that I heard moans coming from around me, gentle slurping noises from
the table to my right, loud groans from the left; the tables creaked
with activity.

The night went on like this, men, women, even a Ssphynx female who needed
an additional table rolled up so she could get to me. Cocks slid down my
throat (which got quite used to all the activity), cunts slid along my
lips, even a sweetly clean ass or two demanding to be kissed and licked.
Male, female, skinned or furry, I was a toy for all comers. A few masters
and mistresses insisting (ha!) that I treat their slaves, but only to
the point of frustration. Aaden even went by, but didn't take advantage
of my condition; he just grinned and said hello.

The party wound down, and after a while the breaks I was receiving
between players grew longer, and longer, until finally I think I could
have counted on that one (I honestly don't remember what species he
was... but at least I'm sure it was a he. It was all a big blur by
then.) being the last one. After a while, a sweet, short femCenatur came
over and righted the platform.

I was stiff, and I was happy. I felt like an urban legend, with a pint of
semen inside me. She wheeled me out to yet a new room, untied my straps
and helped me to bed. I was tired; at times I had gotten so wrapped up in
my many lovers' orgasms that I had tensed against the bonds, exhausting
myself uselessly, bucking back further to take that last one millimeter.
Now that effort took its toll.

The Centaur tucked me in, an ear to ear smile on her face as she kissed
me on the forehead. "Goodnight, Father," she said.

"Please don' call me tha'," I mumbled. I doubt she heard it, and I was
glad for that; she was being so very nice to me. I must have fallen
asleep immediately thereafter; I don't remember anything else that night.

  ----------------------------------------------------------------------


Original document is available from:
http://www.drizzle.com/~elf/journals

The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., and Related Tales
are Copyright (c) 1989-2000 Elf Mathieu Sternberg. Distribution limited
to electronic media not-for-profit use only. All other rights are reserved
to the author.
