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Part 1
“Here you go, Missy,” the man in the ticket booth said,
holding up a ten-trip subway pass to the City, “Now all we
have to do is negotiate the price.”
I was inside the closed booth with him at this point, blinds
down, vaguely aware of other travelers passing unseen just
outside. I was pressed close against him, his nose almost
against my cleavage. This was going to be just too easy, I
thought, taking the proffered ticket from his hand and
slipping it into my purse.
“Oh, I know what the price is,” I replied, stepping away
and spinning slowly to give him the full effects of my ass and
hips as I undid the short leather miniskirt and let it fall to the
floor.
“And I think you'll be very happy to accept my offer.”
I unzipped the tight leather jacket and let it slip down,
pulling my shoulders back to display those pert tits whose
size and curvature had long ago been calculated to appeal to
the maximum number of people – male, female and
everything between and beyond.
I turned again, allowing him to glimpse the second vagina
my Kind have, just between my breasts.
“A trip round the houses,” I suggested, licking my lips and
fixing him with my smile.
His eyes widened as he realized what he was seeing. He
was already reaching for me, the bulge hardening in his
trousers.
“No holes barred,” I breathed, as he fingered the soft and
increasingly moist opening between my tits.
Twenty minutes later, I was on my way, clutching the
Metro pass I had procured. I left the ticket man sitting on
Part 1
My performance with the tentacle machine sure had made
its mark with the audience in the Chromium Shaft Club.
People were standing two-deep in a circle around the dimly-
lit platform. Some applauded wildly, some were looking on
in thoughtful silence, and many were still openly
masturbating, or with tongues, fingers or dicks inserted deep
into wide-open mouths, moist cunts or lubricated anuses.
After the Octopus had set me down, several guests
started clamoring to experience the machine themselves.
These things rarely need policing, in my experience: as it
becomes clear that a particular individual might just succeed
in their claim, they either back away or jump in with both
feet
As I licked up the last of the cum, a tight-bodied blonde
pushed her way forward. Encouraged by the group of friends
she had clearly come with, the slender girl stepped up onto
the raised dais under the machine. The tentacles, sensing
her presence and willingness, came to life, sliding smoothly
from the hub fixed to the darkened ceiling. As I watched,
the tentacles' color changed to a deep blood-red, the
machine sensing, as is the way of pervasive automation,
one's deep and often unexpressed preferences - preferences
the PA knows from a lifetime's observations coupled to a
hugely sophisticated model of human behavior.
The woman on the dais stood naked with her hands on
her hips, looking up at the appendages snaking their way
towards her, her face a picture compounded of lust and
excitement, with just a hint of fear. She raised her chin, her
nipples hardened visibly and the muscles in the thighs
twitching slightly. Just before the first of the tentacles
reached her, she glanced at me, a half-grin on her face. I
smiled back conspiratorially. I had seen this machine at
work many times before, and I suspected I knew exactly how
Part 1
Every now and then, I find myself answering the
question: How are Marquis Dolls created? This is usually in
one of those late-night conversations, after the initial bursts
of sexual desire have been slaked by several bouts of high-
energy fucking, and there is a pause for rest and
recuperation before a more leisured approach to sex
commences - one that I, at least, can keep up all night.
The conversation inevitably starts at the point where my
extra bits - the second sexual opening in my chest, between
my breasts, and the leather-like skin on my arm and legs.
My companion - or one of the male ones, at least - will then
comment on my flat and muscular stomach and, even more
so, on the strength of the internal muscles between my legs.
He will undoubtedly have appreciated this particular intimate
spot several times by now.
It amuses me to explain that I have strong muscles inside
me because I have nothing else - none of the female Norm's
reproductive organs, no womb, no ovaries. Clearly, we
cannot give birth ourselves, not having any of the necessary
biological equipment. And that's when The Question is
asked.
In fact, we Marquis Dolls are born to Norm mothers, or at
least were when births were still allowed without a special
license. So my mother is a Norm, of course. She had a lot
of money back then, and bought the genetic modifications
which make me, well, me, at a time when such changes were
fashionable. She tells me there was quite a fad for designer
babies in those days - "at the birth of modern medical
science," she says - and many women elected for radical
genetic variations for their offspring in the womb.
Part 1
I swept down the wide staircase of Mom's apartment
building arm-in-arm with Dragon in an old-fashioned formal
pose made incongruous by Lyanne in her slave-girl outfit
trailing behind us. Dragon held her leash casually in his
other hand, guiding her with occasional tugs and nudges.
We passed though the outer door onto the street. It was
already dark, although the smart street-lighting made it easy
to see in any direction I cared to look. I had expected a trip
on the Metro - this was my usual way of getting around for
distances too far to walk. Instead, as we reached the edge
of the pavement, a long low black car drew up, stopping
silently a meter or so away from us. It had the external
appearance of a stretch limo from the Internal Combustion
Era - so many people are deeply attracted to retro design
these days - although this one was evidently a modern
reproduction.
The rear door opened automatically as we approached.
"Here, take this," Dragon said, handing me Lyanne's
leash. He gathered up the voluminous folds of his Kimono
and made his way inside, settling himself in the center of one
of the two luxuriously upholstered banks of seats set facing
each other in the interior.
I motioned Lyanne to get in the car. She knelt gracefully,
making her way though the open door on hands and knees -
incidentally allowing me a close and very appreciative
inspection of her cute ass. I followed closely, making my
way to the opposite row of seats. The door closed with a soft
click, and the car slid into motion, the automation firmly in
control.
Dragon sat back, an expectant look on his face. Lyanne
was kneeling on the carpet between Dragon and me, facing
in my direction with her eyes still downcast, while I held her
Part 1
I awoke with sunlight in my eyes and the smell of clean
sheets in my nostrils. I was lying on a large futon, on my
own, naked and curled into the comfortable semi-fetal
position I usually adopt when sleeping alone. I was covered
by a thin white duvet - I am always warm in bed and rarely
need much insulation - which emitted the comforting aroma
of well-washed cotton. All this was presumably arranged for
my benefit by the PA after I had collapsed exhausted by my
exertions last night.
I lay blinking in the daylight for a few moments, taking
stock of my situation and remembering, with increasing
appreciation, last night's sexual antics. I touched myself on
the lips, between my breasts and ran a finger over the lips of
my vagina, reliving exactly how I had been quite literally
fucked senseless by Dragon and Lyanne.
I was not in the least sore or sticky, of course, having
been thoroughly cleaned up by the PA while I was asleep -
the water showers that I prefer to take are more for the
pleasurable sensations than essential for cleanliness.
I sat up, allowing the coverlet to fall to my lap. Still half-
asleep and slightly mussy-headed, I dozily appreciated for a
few seconds the contrast between the darkness of my
nipples and the dark leathery skin around my middle against
the pure white bedspread.
I shook my head to clear it and looked about me. There
was no-one around; presumably the house's other occupants
were still asleep, or at least engaged in activities which were
not making their presence obvious. The futon I had slept on
was set to one side of the living area, tucked into an area
where the ceiling came almost down to head-height, a
location presumably selected by the PA to give me a sense of
comfort and security.
Part 1
"Well, actually your half-sister," Dragon continued calmly.
"Her name is Selene."
Once again, I was completely taken aback. So many
astonishing things were happening all at once: newly-
discovered relations coming at me from every side and then
some kind of delivery job on offer which I completely failed
to comprehend. I felt completely overwhelmed.
Brandon clearly recognized my reactions and reached
over the breakfast table to put his hand on mine
reassuringly.
"I know I'm dumping a lot on you all at once," he said
soothingly, "But, trust me, it's better this way - to give you
the whole picture as a sketch and then help you fill in the
details. It'll take time, so bear with me, please."
"What happened between you and Mom?" I blurted,
striking out for metaphorical solid ground.
"Oh, the usual," he replied, "Two people trying to get
along with each other because they feel they must.
Eventually it all reaches breaking-point. At least your
mother had the good sense to dump me as soon as she was
able to - she always was a strong-minded and self-
determined individual. In any case, a lot of what you are is
down to your Mom, not me. It was she who made the
suggestions about your modifications, and it was she who
raised you on her own - and a damn fine job she's made of it
too."
He smiled proudly at me.
"All-in-all, a particularly well-balanced individual, I would
say," he continued, leering appreciatively, "As well as an
astonishingly sexy one."
Part 1
"Get dressed and get out," he instructed me brusquely,
hastily stuffing his flaccid cock back inside his trousers, "Your
Kind disgusts me."
I hastened to comply, grabbing my blouse from where I
had dropped it and slipping my arms into the sleeves. I
found the vast and unflattering knickers, stepping into them
hurriedly as if they would offer me some kind of protection.
The skirt and jacket followed, and I fumbled with the
unfamiliar buttons and fastenings. While I dressed, the
Reverend returned behind his desk, and sat in the leather
swivel chair, appearing to ignore me completely and giving
his entire attention to the books and papers on the desktop.
I was still adjusting my blouse and skirt as I opened the
door to leave. The same two bearded men were waiting
outside for me.
"So the Reverend has finished with you - and so quickly,
too," the younger one said, not even attempting to keep the
smirk from his face, "And did he give you absolution?"
I bowed my head, not trusting myself to speak at that
moment.
"Follow me," the older one instructed, and we marched
back along the same polished marble corridor, down the
stone steps and outside to the street.
"This way," Jacob said, pointing down the road away from
the direction from which we had approached.
As we walked, Jem took great pride in pointing out the
features and facilities on either side - here, a church with
towering spires and arched windows, there a mission and
workhouse for the poor and needy. I felt I was getting a
guided tour of the complex - I could not bring myself to think
of it as a town - as if it was something I would want to buy.
Part 1
The car eased quietly up to the ornate front door of
Dragon's house. Brandon himself appeared at the entrance
as we arrived, and ducked his head inside the vehicle as
soon as its door had hissed open.
"How is she?" he asked.
I was not entirely sure myself. Selene seemed to be
resting comfortably, sprawled flat on her back on the -
admittedly, extremely comfortable - floor of the car, and
breathing deeply and evenly. I shook her shoulder gently
and spoke into her ear, but she neither woke up nor reacted
appreciably.
"I expected this," Dragon said softly, reaching past me to
gently ease my sister from the car.
"What's wrong with her," I asked, panicked by the sudden
thought that Selene might be hurt or unwell for some
reason.
"Nothing's wrong with her - at least, nothing that a little
time won't fix," Dragon replied in a carefully soothing tone of
voice, "But just help me get her inside."
I eased Selene's legs through the car door, then Dragon
picked her up bodily in her arms. She lay limp, head lolling
back, either deeply asleep or completely unconscious. The
front door opened silently as we approached, while the car
closed its door and slipped away, I imagined, to park itself
somewhere out of sight, wherever it normally hid itself away.
Dragon carried Selene inside, into the open-plan living
space at the top of the house. A low and comfortable-
looking bed had been set up - all pristine white linen
bedclothes - with the covers pulled back and pillows plumped
up. It was set close to the floor-to-ceiling windows that
Part 1
We left the Chromium Shaft Club by the staff entrance -
around the back, of course - and walked along the narrow
alley where I had had that strange encounter with the over-
dressed man just a few days ago. I stopped dead, looking
around at the spot where he had tried to grab me. Thinking
back, I began to suspect that the man in the black hat had
something to do with the Eden Commune, or with the
Reverend.
The PA was, as always, ready with an explanation,
prompted by my body language and the flickering
movements of my eyeballs surveying the scene. Words and
pictures flashed in front of my eyes, as if projected on an
invisible screen. They confirmed my suspicions, that he was
indeed from the NNZ I had visited recently, the one from
whence I had liberated Selene.
But the PA could give no clue as to why he had come, or
what he intended to achieve, since any discussion or
planning would have been done inside the Commune and
therefore away from the pervasive monitoring provided by
the automation. I could only speculate that it had something
to do with Dragon's request to visit his daughter or, more
precisely, with his request to let me visit Selene - even
though that was long before he had even suggested the
possibility to me.
I turned around. Selene was looking at me strangely.
"Are you OK" she asked, sounding a shade worried.
"Fine," I replied cheerily, "Just a sudden thought. No
problem. Let’s go."
I slipped my arm through hers, and we set off jauntily
together along the sidewalk in the sunshine.
Part 1
We left the Starbucks and walked back towards the Metro
station, again pausing to look over that glorious fur coat in
the shop window. Our next port of call was Mom's
apartment. I had a favor to ask of her - another part of my
plan, of course - and besides I felt she would be interested in
meeting Selene. She might not have heard of my recent
escapade, but she would probably be amused to hear about
it and, in any case, she always likes to meet new and
interesting people.
The Metro station platform was quite crowded, enough so
that I held on tightly to Selene's hand; she remained a little
nervous in the presence of large numbers of people. The
train which arrived was also nearly full. Fortunately, a few
people got off and I moved quickly; I got on first, tugging Sis
along in my wake, moving to stand by a vertical pole
provided to steady standing passengers. Selene was pressed
right up against me in the crush; I was standing sideways
and I could her feel her breasts, larger and softer than mine,
pressing into my upper arm.
Moments after the doors had slid shut with a thump and
the car had jerked into motion, I felt Selene stiffen, her
mouth opening instinctively in a gasp and her eyes widening
in surprise.
"Tania!" she hissed in my ear, "Someone's touching my
ass!"
I turned around to face Sis, with some difficulty in the
crowded interior. I looked up over her shoulder, straight into
the face of a woman with flaming red hair, who stared back
at me with flashing green eyes and a lascivious look on her
face. She wore a tightly-cut grey business suit, which might
have been thought of as conservative if the skirt had not
been so short and the jacket not cut so low over her tits. It
was that horny slut I had encountered before, the one who
Part 1
After the Reverend’s departure with his tail between his
legs, the remainder of the party was a complete blast. Both
Selene and I ended up being shagged to the point of near-
insensibility and I, at least, had lost count of the number of
orgasms I had experienced. After that, the affair devolved
into an orgy, with friends and acquaintances and complete
strangers fucking each other with abandon.
Later on, Selene and I sat together on a large couch being
interviewed by countless numbers of reporters and bloggers,
and by the most curious of the party guests. Both Dragon
and Madame Maxine intervened from time to time, to deflect
the most persistent interrogator or idiotic question, but in
general we were happy to repeat our tale, with surprisingly
little embellishment, and offer our opinions on topics diverse
and curious.
Our fame, or at least notoriety, continued to spread, even
after the party. The news of Selene's escape, or rescue, or
release - whatever the correct description is - was the talk of
the blogs for weeks afterwards; there was relentless interest
from the news channels and reporters alike, and anyone who
knew me even slightly before the rescue seemed keen to
extend their acquaintance and to meet Selene, of course. I
was informed, after I remembered to enquire of the
automation, that at any one time, hundreds or even
thousands of people were observing us - remotely, of course,
facilitated by the PA - even weeks after the incident.
We received a great many invitations to visit for dinner,
or a party, or an orgy: far too many for us to take up more
than a miniscule number of them. Even so, as the
invitations flowed in, I was keen to show Selene as much of
the city and its peoples as I reasonably could. She too was
enthusiastic about this project, and we busied ourselves
filling our joint social calendar with a whirlwind of activities.
The End
70306 words
207 pages
21/05/2010 22:22