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Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 1

Contents

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


Volume 2 – Club Soda........................................ 17
Volume 3 – A Shot in the Dark ............................ 34
Volume 4 – Teddy Bear’s Picnic ........................... 46
Volume 5 – Bend and Stretch.............................. 62
Volume 6 – Jell-O and Cream.............................. 73
Volume 7 – Mom’s Home Cookin’......................... 83
Volume 8 – Party Glitter ..................................... 97
Volume 9 – Dungeons and Dragons ................... 110
Volume 10 – Light and Dark ............................. 121
Volume 11 – East of Eden................................. 130
Volume 12 – Never Look Back........................... 144
Volume 13 – Club Sandwich.............................. 159
Volume 14 – But You Can’t Hide ........................ 174
Volume 15 – Maximum Exposure....................... 184
Volume 16 – Welcome to the World ................... 196

2 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


Volume 1 - Express Delivery

Part 1
“Here you go, Missy,” the man in the ticket booth said,
holding up a ten-trip subway pass to the City, “Now all we
have to do is negotiate the price.”
I was inside the closed booth with him at this point, blinds
down, vaguely aware of other travelers passing unseen just
outside. I was pressed close against him, his nose almost
against my cleavage. This was going to be just too easy, I
thought, taking the proffered ticket from his hand and
slipping it into my purse.
“Oh, I know what the price is,” I replied, stepping away
and spinning slowly to give him the full effects of my ass and
hips as I undid the short leather miniskirt and let it fall to the
floor.
“And I think you'll be very happy to accept my offer.”
I unzipped the tight leather jacket and let it slip down,
pulling my shoulders back to display those pert tits whose
size and curvature had long ago been calculated to appeal to
the maximum number of people – male, female and
everything between and beyond.
I turned again, allowing him to glimpse the second vagina
my Kind have, just between my breasts.
“A trip round the houses,” I suggested, licking my lips and
fixing him with my smile.
His eyes widened as he realized what he was seeing. He
was already reaching for me, the bulge hardening in his
trousers.
“No holes barred,” I breathed, as he fingered the soft and
increasingly moist opening between my tits.
Twenty minutes later, I was on my way, clutching the
Metro pass I had procured. I left the ticket man sitting on

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the booth floor, his trousers around his ankles, rolling a
reefer.
He had come twice, hard: once deep in my throat and
once, a few minutes later, in the opening between my
breasts. I worked him well and drained him dry, the
powerful muscles inside the cunt in my chest holding him
tight while I caressed his balls and fingered his ass to
squeeze out every drop of his thick and sticky cum. Like my
mouth, my extra pussy eventually drains into my stomach. I
was very glad of his semen; I had not had any breakfast that
morning.
Part 2
I share a flat with my friend Renie. Through Steve, her
boyfriend, I get occasional jobs as a messenger and courier.
They’re rarely dull, often exciting and extremely variable,
and I’m always delighted when he suggests a job for me. I
had learned about this particular delivery assignment the
previous evening in the flat.
Renie is a shemale, a dick-girl: she has both a cock and a
cunt. Her vagina is always wet and accommodating, her
cock petite but beautifully formed. She also has the most
delightful breasts with dark nipples, both a little larger than
mine, and so much more sensitive.
When Steve arrived, Renie and I were fucking, lying on
the oversized futon mattress we share most nights. We had
adopted our favorite position: this is where she straddles me
in reverse, with her cock inserted as deep as it will go into
the opening between my breasts. The position allows me to
both lick and finger her cunt and, later on, I'll lick my thumb
and slide it into her ass.
She likes it when I massage her with my fingertips
against the sensitive spot inside her, just where the lips
come together to form the base of her cock. This movement
makes her dick rock-hard, which is nice for me, and her
opening very damp, which she likes a lot. As she gets wetter
and wetter, I slip first one, then two fingers inside her;
sometimes she gets so hot I can slide all of my fingers into
her cunt, fisting her to an intense orgasm almost
immediately.

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“Tania, honey”, Renie said, looking up from her task of
licking my clit, “Steve's here.”
Steve loves it when Renie and I fuck. He often sits on the
couch watching, stroking his rock-hard manhood for hours
while us girls fuck and writhe and squeal with orgasm after
orgasm. Somehow he always knows when we're about to
come for the last time. He stands up from the sofa, raises
Renie’s head by the simple expedient of pulling on her long
dark hair, and forces his dick deep into her throat, coming
inside her after only a few seconds.
As always, I came explosively by rubbing my clit with two
fingers – only the vulva between my legs has a clitoris –
while Renie jerked her load into my other opening.
Sometimes I wish Steve would come in my mouth instead,
but after all he is Renie's boyfriend – so I really cannot
begrudge her that.
After the workout, we sat together on the couch, sipping
the whiskey Steve had brought with him, and nibbling
chunks from the chocolate bar he had pulled from the same
brown bag. Steve often brings Renie treats – drugs and food
and booze – and they frequently share them with me.
I slipped the square of candy I had been handed into my
mouth, reveling in the rich sweet taste – like the chocolate-
flavored oil Renie likes to massage into her cock – although
sometimes I wonder if she does this just to get me to lick it.
I can only tolerate a small amount of simple
carbohydrates - they tend to make me bloated. Fortunately,
the fats in the cacao and milk were enough to keep my
discomfort at bay, as long as I ate the candy sparingly.
As we ate and drank and fooled around on the couch,
Steve told me about the pickup and drop-off I would be
making the following day. The details all seemed
straightforward enough, although I would need to make an
early start if I was to make the scheduled delivery time.
Business attended to, Steve started sucking Renie's cock.
I knew this was the usual precursor to Renie sucking his dick
to hardness before she fucks him in the ass. Steve likes to
control his own orgasms, taking his time, and started by
stroking his own cock rhythmically while he ran his tongue
around the head of Renie’s delightful penis. Already

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moaning aloud, Renie then bent over and took Steve’s cock
in her own mouth, so that they were each swallowing the
other’s dick.
Disengaging himself, Steve knelt down on the mattress to
take Renie's smaller manhood inside him, again wanking
himself slowly and methodically while Renie’s tits bounced
and jiggled.
Watching the two lovers enjoying each other and knowing
that they would be engrossed for an hour or so, I sat back
against the cushions at the head of the bed, reaching behind
the pillow for one of my favorite toys, an oversize pink dildo
with a sucker on the end.
This one is too big for the cunt on my chest, but fills me
just perfectly between the legs. I moistened the toy in my
mouth, then up-ended it on the hardwood floor, pressing the
sucker down hard to make sure it stayed put. No way I
wanted it to slide away from under me!
I squatted down over the dildo, allowing it to slip inside,
well-lubricated by the spit Renie had provided while licking
me out earlier. Well, the exercise keeps my thighs and
buttocks in trim, I suppose.
As I eased myself down onto the huge pink plastic cock, I
thought, “Better not make it a late night tonight.”
Part 3
I awoke the following morning in a tangle of pillows and
cushions, mostly under the king-size duvet the three of us
had shared. Renie was still snoring, while Steve was idly
playing with his morning hard-on, stroking his glistening
helmet with slow deliberate movements.
I briefly toyed with the idea of helping him with that, but
he looked as if he was going to wake Renie by slipping his
cock inside her cunt as she slept which would be, I knew
from intimate experience, still wet with the juices from last
night's playtime. Instead, I slipped out from under the
covers and went to have a shower.
Perhaps I should explain who I am, and indeed what I
am, in case you have been living under a rock in the Midwest
for the last two hundred years. Looking at myself in the full-
length mirror in the bathroom, I realized that a person from

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that previous age would have thought, at first glance, that I
was wearing fingerless gloves of fine soft leather which
reached beyond my elbows, with a low-cut bodice and hold-
up stockings of the same chocolate brown material, together
with knee-length high-heel boots in a darker hue. Actually,
the leathery skin is all me, even the boot heels: I need to
scuff the soles of my feet regularly to prevent the horny
tissue from becoming too smooth and slippery.
I am a Marquis Doll, named, I'm told, after some old book
or movie or something from ages ago. The extra opening in
my chest where a man – or at least someone with a cock –
can enter me while pressing against my tits is a bonus
feature granted long ago. I can have powerful orgasms
when thoroughly fucked there, enhanced by the sensation of
my nipples being stimulated by the same movements.
As for the rest of me, well, from the top down: my head
hair is thick and dark – almost black – and naturally
completely straight. I tend to grow it long – at least when I
can be bothered to think about lengthening or shortening it.
Fortunately, given my hectic lifestyle, my hair needs little
maintenance, requiring little more than washing it through
with water and shaking it dry afterwards.
My eyes are large and dark, the skin naturally black
around them, and framed by long and curved eyelashes.
Otherwise, though, I'm genetically hairless from the eye-line
down. My lips are a deep red – all three pairs – and my
teeth are white, numerous and not at all sharp.
The skin on my arms and legs is exceptionally tough, not
really sensitive to either heat or cold, and is very easy to
keep clean. I just needed to rinse myself down and
occasionally rub in an oil or lotion or polish to keep myself
healthy and shiny.
I have all of my sensitive feelings, my sexual sensations,
concentrated in my fingertips, my face, around my neck and
breasts, and in a broad swathe of flesh from waist to upper
thigh. My skin here is much lighter – the shade a man I
once knew called Café au Lait, although I am not sure why.
As always, I give these more receptive areas the careful
attention they deserve while the shower water runs: first
soaping my breasts and nipples before carefully cleaning all
of my openings: my mouth, both cunts and my ass. I then

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rubbed all of my lips and openings with the softening oils
which are recommended for my kind.
Of course this is really quite pleasurable, and I achieve,
as almost always, my first two orgasms of the day; just tiny
ones, of course, “willy-nillys”, as my first real girlfriend used
to call them, back when we used to play with each other in
quiet corners of the playground, oh, so very long ago now.
As I emerged from the shower, I admired my slender and
muscular shape in the mirror – boy, I look hot today! –
especially my slender legs, tight ass and muscular thighs. I
keep myself in trim by energetic and very frequent sex, as
well as walking everywhere; the natural height of my heels
keeps my muscles flexible and strong.
My need, or at least desire for food is rather limited, and
the slenderness of my waist and flatness of my stomach is
aided by the fact that I have no reproductive organs inside
me. I have no womb, no ovaries, none of the biological
mechanisms I would never use, and therefore no monthly
periods either. Still, since everyone these days lives
practically forever, my inability to have a child is no great
loss.
Looking myself over in the mirror, I dried myself under
the ceiling-mounted hot air blower, still tingling from the
orgasms in the shower. I then slipped on the leather
miniskirt and zipped jacket – I never wear underwear, what
would the point be? – collected my little satchel purse and
set off.
Behind me, the louder groans and sounds of movement
suggested that Steve had succeeded in waking Renie.
Glancing back, I could see she was now giving him anal
reverse cowboy, his cock deep in her back passage. Her
breasts bounced as she rode him hard, one hand fingering
her own opening – a long nail rubbing up against the G-spot
I had been massaging only last night – and the other hand
jerking her own oiled member.
In a private moment, she had confided that she had
wanted to improve her synchronization, to achieve
simultaneous orgasms for the two of them, and that she
particularly wanted to be able to spurt on her own tits at
precisely the same moment Steve ejaculated into her ass.

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Right now, she seemed to me to be close to achieving that
goal.
“See you later,” I called gaily, closing the door behind me,
“Enjoy each other, lovers.”
Part 4
The Metro trip itself was uneventful, the Automation
recognizing my newly-acquired pass without comment. The
crowd was sparse; just the usual Saturday morning mixture
of stoned party-goers returning to their city-centre lofts and
prosperous-looking shoppers on the lookout for an early
bargain.
I politely fended off the advances of a sexy-looking satyr,
his enormous curved member not quite hidden by the thick
curly hair that covered his body from the waist down, and
the short jacket that so many of his kind wore. I was
already in danger of running late, and I really did not have
time for another diversion this morning.
In case you're wondering, I do have conventional money -
a modest line of credit based on my irregular incomes and
keyed to my biometrics. I could have flashed my card and
confirmed the transaction with my fingerprints, and just
bought the Metro ticket for a couple of Kays. But that would
make this particular errand overtly plain to anyone who
cared to look, and the approach I used avoided the use of
easily traceable credit. Besides, it was much more fun my
way.
Or, I could have just used cash. But hard currency is
becoming increasingly rare these days. They've never
actually made it illegal, probably afraid of the backlash that
would have caused, but it just seems to be in desperately
short supply.
Steve, who makes a habit of tracking all of the current
conspiracy theories, says that the reason we still have, for
example, manned booths on the Metro is to provide a way of
absorbing all of the floating cash back into the mainstream
banking system. Maybe he’s right; I don’t know, or care
much. In any case, I'd like to keep the small amount of
emergency cash I'd concealed in a number of places for real
emergencies.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 9


The meet for the pick-up was in a Starbucks in a
fashionably expensive downtown shopping mall, wedged
right next to a furrier. I was a few minutes early, so I wiled
away the time stood in front of the shop window admiring
the display of garments within. All Reel Fur™, an animated
label proudly announced - although of course these days
made without anything resembling Real Animals being
involved.
A golden knee-length fur coat caught my eye, which
would have complemented the chocolate brown of my arms
and legs, and given me the perfect foil for flashing my more
intimate assets both front and back. As they say, it would
have made me look like a million dollars, which was just as
well, since that was almost exactly what it cost.
It was overpriced, of course – I would have expected to
pay less than a third of that – but would be exactly the kind
of thing I would need to bag a sugar-daddy.
Emerging from my daydream, I shook my head, and
marched on to the cafe next door.
The 'Bucks was sited on a busy corner - aren't they
always - but at this early hour it was nearly deserted. There
were a couple of earnest-looking student-y types hunched
over their latte grandes and study tablets, presumably trying
to catch up with some overdue assignment. They barely
looked up when I entered the building.
At first I thought there was no-one else in the place. I
was about to turn around when someone I recognized stuck
his head around the corner of a booth right at the back. His
name was Johnny – no other name was known to me – and
he beckoned me to join him at his table.
“Here’s our delivery girl,” he said, “Want a latte frappe?”
I declined the offer of a coffee – caffeinated drinks make
me jittery all day – but accepted a Fruitie Yogart Smoothie™
which, although certainly smooth, contained more saturated
fats and synthetic complex starches than anything
resembling either fruit or yogurt.
“Suit yourself,” he replied.

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As Jonny spoke the automation delivered it to our table in
the blur of near-unseen movement that is both familiar and
so easy to ignore. I pulled up a chair and sat demurely.
Next to Johnny stood a tall and curvaceous figure, a
woman with a deeply retro appearance. She looked like a
movie star from a century or two ago: a tight red dress with
a plunging cleavage and split to the thigh - although I
suspected that the nipple cutaways in the frock were
probably not historically accurate.
A mass of tight blonde ringlets cascaded from her head
was complemented by pancake makeup and bright rouge on
her cheeks, and teetering high heels - real shoes, I noted.
She was a Norm, as far as I could tell, at least without
getting a lot closer. Fun thought to try, though.
The woman’s pose went as far as including the whole
cigarette-on-a-stick thing I had seen here and there, now
that smoking is no longer bad for you, but frankly never
quite understood. She glared at me through a carefully
contrived roiling cloud of smoke with the air of one who had
acquired their daddy and weren't prepared to share him.
“Hello, Johnny,” I said. “Steve didn't mention it was you
doing the handover.”
A sneer, or at least a half-hearted attempt at one,
creased his face.
“Steve has a tight circle of, um, acquaintances,” he
drawled, “You shouldn't be surprised if the same few guys
come up again and again.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I replied, mimicking his voice.
Johnny turned to the statuesque blonde.
“Hand it over, Dollface,” he said, holding out a manicured
hand. I do like that in a man: clean and well-shaped nails on
strong yet slender fingers - especially those belonging to one
who likes to slip then inside you on a regular basis.
The woman put her smoking stick in her mouth, pouting
in my direction as she did so. A long, pale and very sexy leg
emerged from the slit dress as she lifted her high-heeled
shoe to rest on the table next to me. She bent forward and
reached with both hands into the slit in her dress, very
obviously caressing herself between her legs

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I had a grandstand seat for the show, as she must have
known I would. I could see the slender fingers of one hand
separate the outer lips of her vagina, the bright red of her
fingernails contrasting with the softer pink of her labia. With
the thumb and forefinger of the other hand, she reached
inside her moist opening. Judging by the way her face
reacted to her own touch, she was already performing a
series of rhythmic pelvic floor thrusts.
After a few moments, her hand emerged holding a heavy-
looking metal sphere, elaborately engraved and inlaid in
bright enamel colors, and glistening moistly with her most
intimate juices.
“The naughty girl!” I thought, then added mentally, “Why
didn't I think of that!”
She handed the ball to Johnny, again looking disdainfully
at me. He briefly licked the object clean, clearly enjoying the
no-doubt familiar taste. He unscrewed the sphere and took
something from its inside which he flicked casually across the
table at me.
Johnny carefully re-assembled the ball, choosing this time
to return it to its previous hiding-place himself. The Dollface
twisted and her mouth opened involuntarily as the now-cool
ball was pressed between her lips. I could feel the muscles
in my own pussy tautening as I imagined what it must feel
like. Remind me to try this at home, kids.
I drew my attention back to the item on the table. The
package was a sealed plastic bag, through which could be
seen the swirl and glitter of automation. I guessed it would
not allow itself to be picked up by the wrong person. I also
knew the contents must be valuable - no-one wastes such
expensive packaging on everyday drugs or data.
“What is it?” I demanded, more because I felt I should
ask, rather than any particular desire to know.
Johnny shook his head.
“I could tell you,” he sneered, “But then I'd have to kill
you.”
All three of us laughed aloud at this. It was so hard these
days to kill or even seriously hurt anyone - unless they

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wanted you to, of course - that people have basically given
up even trying.
“You know the address,” he asked, as I slipped the tiny
package into my purse and made to leave.
“Sure,” I said. Steve had in fact remembered to tell me
this detail, although this kind of thing has been known to slip
his mind occasionally.
“It’ll get there,” I added, mainly for the benefit of the
Dollface, “Don’t you worry your pretty little heads about
that.”
Part 5
The destination was in an obscure but well-to-do suburb
beyond the end of subway line J. I needed to make just one
change at one of the quieter stops downtown. The platform
was bustling with business types in crisp and expensive-
looking suits. I felt just a little out of place and I sat
unobtrusively on a bench waiting for the connecting train.
I passed the time by people-watching, a diversion surely
enjoying since time immemorial. I was sure I spotted
another Marquis Doll, a blonde, dressed in a smart grey suit
jacket and matching miniskirt. Her legs were covered in faux
tights – lighter in color than my own – and dainty but very
high heels. A successful executive, or someone's executive
squeeze, I thought, a bonus in the boardroom. Well, either
way, good luck to her.
My connecting train arrived and I rode on to the terminus.
Apparently, I was now faced with a walk of about twenty
minutes, according to the Mapz™ I had acquired some
months before.
This piece of Value-Add Pervasive Automation –
VAPAware, in the jargon – was invaluable for this kind of job,
guiding me infallibly to any destination I cared to speak
aloud. It worked by producing arrows, in flashing Day-Glo
orange, apparently imprinted on everyday objects –
sidewalks, trees, fences – even passers-by on the streets.
No-one else could see these directional signs.
Acquiring the Mapz™ had cost me an all-day fuckathon
which I remembered through a haze of affection and lust. I
had felt quite sore in at least three places, and it must have

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been nearly twelve hours – and the close attention of the
pervasive automation – before I was able to fuck anyone
again.
The sun was way high by the time I arrived, just a little
tired by my exertions and certainly perspiring a little. A
droplet of sweat had formed on my left breast. Amused, I
guided it down into my cleavage, dampening my upper cunt.
I could feel myself moistening from the inside, too, but I
shook my head and strode onwards.
“Business first,” I said to myself firmly.
My destination was a long, low building – nowhere more
than two floors high – mostly surrounded by overgrown
hedges and rough stone walls. It looked like Old Money; it
had probably been in the same family for centuries.
The mansion was approached by a wide high gate. The
local automation must have been briefed – or just deduced –
that I was expected and the gate slid open in near-silence as
I walked towards it. I followed a short pathway up to the
formal old-fashioned front door, which was closed and
apparently locked. I was unsure what to do: there was no
sign of anything as archaic was a bell-push, and I wondered
if I was really expected.
Just at that moment, I heard voices from around the back
of the mansion. I followed the sound curiously, following a
narrow gravel pathway though the undergrowth. At the rear
of the house were a wide deck and a swimming pool. The
pool contained two young-looking people, the source of the
cries I had heard earlier. A boy and a girl, both blonde and
very well tanned, and quite naked were splashing around -
and very obviously fooling around too.
They stopped as I approached - well, mostly; I could still
see her hand grasping the boy's cock while she spoke to me.
“Hi,” she said brightly, smiling up at me from the water's
edge, “Looking for someone?”
“I'm told Mister Yamamoto lives here,” I answered equally
perkily, not to be outdone.
On a whim, I walked up and stood right at the edge of the
pool, legs astride. I thought both of them appreciated the
view, and I was almost sure the young man’s cock stiffened

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appreciably in the other woman’s hand as he casually looked
up my skirt.
“Jackie Y. Yeah, he’s around somewhere,” the girl
drawled laconically.
At that moment, a bear-like man, tall and genuinely
strong rather than the physique of a gymnasium bodybuilder
emerged from the darkened interior of the house. He had
no obvious Japanese features that I could identify, and was
wearing a lemon-yellow bathrobe and hastily-donned
sunglasses.
“What do you want?” he asked bluntly.
I took the package from my purse and held it up.
“You’re the delivery agent?”
I nodded.
“OK, come inside,” he muttered, turning on his heel and
returning to the coolness of the interior.
I followed him, stepping into a large open area - at least
judging from the echoing sounds and sense of air
movements - and filled with hulking shapes I could not
immediately recognize.
Once my eyes had adapted to the low light, I found I was
standing in an area which must have occupied more than
half of the volume of the mansion, from basement level to
roof beams with monumental sculptures. The room was
filled with abstract forms which all gave the most striking
impression of sadness and decay, without recognizably
depicting anything concrete I could identify.
In this day and age, different people reacted in different
ways to our age of infinite leisure. Many people adopt a
hobby – often, more an overwhelming passion, a zealous
enthusiasm for some artistic endeavor or other. Jackie
Yamamoto was clearly one of these types, wiling away the
decades in the pursuit of some artistic ideal.
I handed over the package I had been given. Jackie gave
a grunt of acknowledgement before taking my money card
briefly in his hand to make the payment for delivery. After
that, he ignored me completely. He seemed engrossed in

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 15


the object I had delivered, peering at it with, I suspected,
senses augmented by the pervasive automation.
“I’ll just go them, shall I?” I asked flippantly.
He waved a dismissive hand vaguely in my direction, not
taking his attention from the delivery for a second. I
stumbled my way outside and stood blinking in the bright
sunlight for a moment.
The boy and girl in the pool turned to watch me closely.
“What's eating him?” I asked.
“Don't you mind Jack,” the boy answered, “He's just a bit
distracted. He’s really into his art at the moment, ya know,
and it’s not going so well.”
I shrugged, and turned to leave, striding across the
poolside flagstones. Before I had taken more than a dozen
steps, the female half of the friendly couple in the pool called
to me.
“You look hot,” she said with a giggle, “Why not join us
for a refreshing dip?”
Hell, why not, I thought, it’s not as if I had anything
particular to do that afternoon. Just another day, another
delivery.

16 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


Volume 2 – Club Soda
Part 1
I returned to the flat in the early evening. Renie was out,
working at her regular job at the Hair and Beauty Salon on
the corner of the next block. An opportunity for me to relax
for a hour or so.
In our absence, the room had been tidied up by our PA:
cushions and pillows plumped up, clothes cleaned and put
away, toys washed and concealed in their familiar hiding-
places, ready for action at a moment's notice. Sometimes I
wondered how anyone ever managed without Pervasive
Automation.
I decided to take another shower - just a quick one, no
time for any fun this time - tossing my skirt and jacket into a
corner to be tidied away by the automation. After drying off
and oiling my skin, I wandered naked back into the main
room for a snack and a long cool drink.
The sex with the young couple in the pool had been
entertaining. We had all fucked each other a little, although
there were really not enough dicks involved for my taste.
Not needing further encouragement, I had stripped off
quickly and slid into the cool water. I am not a particularly
good swimmer - the shape of my feet does not really help -
but the water was only deep enough to come up to my
breasts.
In any case, swimming was not the objective: the couple,
Bruce and Charlene - who turned out to be brother and sister
- reached eagerly for my breasts and my ass. The tag-team
rapidly focused on the opening between my legs (him) and
the one between my breasts (her), and making me feel hot
and juicy in both places. Obviously, I reciprocated, making a
single 'O' with thumb and forefinger around the head of
Bruce's cock with one hand, and running two fingers

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 17


alternatively inside the girl's vagina and over her smooth-
shaven pussy lips.
After a certain amount of fooling around, we emerged
from the pool using the steps, allowing me to appreciate
Charlene's large, well-formed and delightfully tanned breasts
and stiff dark nipples which begged me to suck on them.
Dripping with water, we moved to the shade of a cluster
of parasols by the edge of the pool, which shaded a clutch of
daybeds and sun-loungers. I lost no time in enjoying
Charlene's nipples, sucking hard on them alternately. Her
teats swelled still further under my ministrations.
"Harder!" she begged, "Suck me hard!"
I redoubled my efforts, biting on her nipples and making
her gasp, finally crying out as her orgasm shook her body
uncontrollably.
Bruce had been watching avidly as I sucked his sister's
tits, making his dick - already hard from the fooling around
in the pool, even more erect. Charlene and I sucked him
alternately where he stood, causing him to arch backwards
and cry out. He seemed ready to explode at any moment
but managed to stay in that state for an impressively long
time.
The other girl and I ended up top-to-tail, with me on the
top - I like it either way around - so that I could bury my
head between her legs, giving her clit and vagina the full
benefit of the long and slightly pointed tongue my Type is
equipped with.
With my fanny in the air, Charlene did what she could
with her tongue - definitely a Norm! - as well as using both
tongue and finger to make my anus nicely lubricated ready
for her brother. A moment later, her brother was inside me,
fucking me from behind. The combination of tongue on clit
and cock in ass gave me my first orgasm of the afternoon.
Gratifyingly, Charlene came shortly afterwards with my
tongue deep in her cunt.
We girls rolled over, giggling and gasping; the strength of
my orgasm had forced Bruce's cock from my ass. I ended up
on my back, so that Bruce could straddle me, slipping his
rock-hard member into cunt between my breasts. The
grinning girl watched with a huge grin on her face as her

18 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


brother finally came in that opening, which I can make, by
muscles designed in for the purpose, particularly tight and
stimulating.
"Not fair," she exclaimed in a joke-petulant voice after he
had come, "She's been fucked in two places, and I'm all wet
and horny."
"Let me help you with that," I replied, kneeling to use my
tongue and fingers on her pussy once again, which was
indeed dripping wet as advertised. I was able to bring her
off surprisingly quickly, a gasping and powerful orgasm
which made her pussy muscles clench again and again
around my fingers.
All of us were warmed up, perspiring freely after the sex
in the sun. We took an impromptu cooling dip in the pool,
instigated by Charlene attempting to push her brother in.
This was successful only to the point that he managed to
grab her arm as he was falling and tug her into the water as
well. I watched their antics in the pool for a few moments
then, caught up in the child-like glee, jumped into the deep
end with a tremendous splash.
I clambered out after a minute or two, followed by the
other two, and took turns in toweling each other down, both
Bruce and Charlene making appreciative noises as they dried
my ass. I tossed the towel on the warm decking, where it
would no doubt be whisked away by the automation as soon
as my back was turned.
Cooled and refreshed, we retired back to the shaded sun-
loungers. Bruce threw himself on one of the daybeds before
offered me a drink, which I accepted gratefully. Three tall
glasses materialized on a small table just to one side, the
blur of movement being just enough to attract our attention.
I swept up one of the glasses and lay back on the daybed I
had commandeered, catching Charlene's eye in a silent toast
before sipping from the fruit-juice-and-sparking-wine
combination the man had requested for all three of us.
"Say, would you like something to eat?" she asked.
I nodded, suddenly feeling hungry after the exertions.
"So what do you like?" she added.
"Meat, and lots of it" I replied promptly.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 19


"I'm sure you do, honey" she said with a laugh in her
voice, "I'm sure you do."
Part 2
I had fallen asleep on a sun-lounger in the shade, feeling
just a little sleepy after the energetic sex and the picnic
lunch. I eventually woke up in the warmth of the afternoon,
curled on my side. Some kindly person - or perhaps just the
PA - had covered me with a colorful beach towel.
I rolled onto my back and stretched luxuriously, noticing
immediately that I was being watched through eyes slitted
against the sun by my host Bruce. He was lying back on a
second lounger sharing the same parasol and stroking his
cock, which was already delightfully hard.
Looking around, I could see that Charlene was still
sleeping on another daybed, shaded by a second canopy a
few paces away. She had tossed off her beach towel in her
sleep, so that the combination of her soft snores and curled
glory of her naked body made her look surprisingly child-like.
I turned back to Bruce, who was still looking at me
speculatively, and raised a quizzical eyebrow. He moved to
sit next to me like a shot. I really like these little indications
of keenness and enthusiasm.
"So you want to have me again?" I asked him, sliding
closer to him on the lounger and placing my hand on his
upper thigh, just a hairsbreadth from his balls were
practically throbbing in anticipation.
"Oh, fuck yes," he replied, running a fingertip over the
lips of the cunt between my legs, "I just have to have you
right here. It's the only place I haven't enjoyed you yet."
I was more than happy enough to oblige - napping in the
sun always makes me especially horny when I wake up. I
lay back on the lounger and, once again, he licked me out
expertly, running his tongue expertly over my clitoris and -
for a Norm - surprisingly powerfully into my vagina.
"I like your taste," he stated while pausing for breath,
holding my cunt lips apart with his thumbs in a way which
instinctively made me gape so wide, "Perhaps you'd like to
stand up for me?"

20 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I stood with my
legs apart with my knees very slightly bent and with my ass
directed provocatively - I hoped! - back at him. For support,
I clung to the wooden pole which supported the sun canopy
which had shaded me while sleeping.
"That's just perfect," Bruce said, positioning my hips to
his liking just so and holding my ass cheeks apart as he slide
his dick into my, by now, wet and wide-open opening.
He fucked me with energy and enthusiasm, and I could
feel myself getting very wet, my juices leaking out and
lubricating my pussy lips; the position I had adopted allowed
me to push back hard against him. He took his time and
worked me hard, and - judging by the grunts and gasps - he
clearly enjoyed the tightness of my cunt.
At first, I supported myself with one hand using the other
to finger my clit vigorously to make sure that I was taut
against his cock, tightening those strong muscles inside me.
But after a while, I found he was banging me so energetically
that I really needed to grip the pole with both hands.
I looked around to watch his tanned and muscular body
behind me. As I did so, I noticed that we were being
watched by Charlene. The girl had obviously been awakened
by our energetic coupling. She lay in the shade of the next
parasol, fingering herself. I caught her eye and she grinned
back at me, clearly enjoying the spectacle of her brother
fucking me so hard.
I could sense Bruce was about to come inside me and I
was sure I was going to come too. As I got so close, my
back arched instinctively. I closed my eyes as my mouth
opened in a paroxysm of stimulation and pleasure.
"Yes! Yes!" I cried out, "Now! NOW!"
Bruce and I must have come more-or-less at the same
moment. We stood for a few seconds afterwards, both
unable to move, the pulsations of my orgasm still throbbing
around his cock deep inside me. I heard a powerful
exhalation from the direction of Charlene - my eyes were still
closed - but there was another voice, one I had not
expected.
"Yes!"

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 21


It was Jackie Y, peering in our direction from the shade of
the house and holding some kind of device half-hidden in one
hand. He moved forward quickly, purposefully, apparently
engrossed in something I could not see as well as trying to
attract our attention.
I straightened, gently disengaging from Bruce, who sat
heavily on a lounger, as if his legs suddenly could no longer
support him. I like to think that I often have that effect on
people who fuck me.
"That's what I've been looking for," he said, looking very
much more animated than our last encounter, "That's the
pose I wanted to capture."
I was confused for a moment.
"Pose? What for?"
"For a sculpture, of course," he replied earnestly, looking
directly at me and waving the device he held in his hand. It
was a short cylinder with flat ends, it surface even now
swirling rapidly in the purposeful way the automation has
when it is busy.
"Come and see," he continued with child-like passion.
I glanced at Bruce and Charlene. Bruce seemed out of it,
lying practically comatose on the sun-lounger. Charlene
shook her head, looking wryly amused - as if she had seen it
all before. She jumped up from her lounger, tossed me a
towel - I was perspiring freely and distinctly sticky between
the legs - and coolly wandered off in the direction of the
pool.
"Sure," I said to Jackie, "Why not?"
I followed him into the house, which was now brightly lit -
nearly as bright as the sunshine outside - in contrast to the
gloom I encountered earlier. In the open space in the centre
of the room, the pervasive automation was at work in a
furious blur of dust and movement, fabricating something.
As I watched, the dust condensed into a statue of solid rock.
Within moments, it was all over, the artwork as still and solid
as if it had always been there.
The sculpture was a monumental construction, standing
at least two meters high and enhanced by the appearance
that it was carved from some dark gray rock highlighted with

22 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


flecks and speckles that caught the light from the overhead
illumination. Agape, I reached up and ran my hand over its
soft curves, feeling my own back and ass and tits artistically
caught in the dark stone.
I began to appreciate the skill and vision that Jackie had
contributed to the work. It would have been all too easy to
render my pose perfectly, a three-D photo in life-like color,
every mark and detail, every hair and eyelash - but where
would the art be in that?
Under the artist's guidance, the automation had formed
an abstraction, capturing the essence of the experience
without overloading the senses with unnecessary
information. The work gave me a tremendous impression of
energy and life, of joy and exhilaration, in stark contrast to
the miserable feelings the other works in the room invoked.
I gazed up the expression on my own face, softened and
abstracted - but still recognizably me - frozen in the moment
of orgasm. It was something you do not very often get to
inspect from different angles.
Charlene appeared at the doorway, still quite naked and
dripping water from the pool.
"Wow, impressive!" she gasped, then added cheekily, "So
it's not just Bruce you can make hard as rock, then."
Part 3
Having wiled away an hour or so thinking about the
afternoon's sex, I dressed in the short skirt and sleeveless
jacket in matching metallic sheen that was my uniform,
picked up my little purse and walked the couple of blocks to
my regular job.
For several years now, I have been working a half-shift as
an assistant greeter in a Machine Sex Club called the
Chromium Shaft. I work alternate afternoon and evening
shifts, four days a week - short shifts only, as the Club
management likes us to be perky and fresh in our roles.
Besides, this arrangement gives me plenty of time to enjoy
the company of my circle of friends, as well as undertake the
occasional delivery job.
I have found it to be a wonderful way of meeting people
as I circulate around the Club. The music is always loud, the

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 23


tips are sometimes generous and often I can end up being
enjoyed by so many people that I don't need to eat at all.
Even so, the rules are totally clear: the equipment is for
the enjoyment of the paying clientele and we're not
supposed to use the machines ourselves. But of course I do
sometimes get to demonstrate the toys and games to the
guests, if they express a desire - so many people like to
watch, after all.
As I arrived at the staff door - around the back of the
building, of course - I was greeted by a tiny bird-like figure,
the boss's right-hand woman who everyone knew as Kitti.
She was wearing her trademark tight-fitting black rubber-
look cat-suit and stiletto-heeled boots, fitted tightly to
emphasize the curves of her pert breasts and hard nipples.
Her pubic mound and vagina lips were equally clearly
delineated, an effect highlighted by those regions being
colored a flaming crimson.
According to the workplace gossip, the suit consisted
almost entirely of automation - there was quite possibly no
real fabric in the garment at all. It must have cost a fortune.
Kitti was reputed to never remove the suit - the PA
effortlessly taking care of all aspects of hygiene and waste
disposal.
The suit was capable of supporting her in almost any
position her body could adopt, as well as opening (and
closing) apertures wherever she so desired, and providing
phallic extensions and physical supports on demand. Kitti's
cat-suit - together with her own voracious sexual appetite -
made her a formidable sexual partner, as least by
reputation; I had not yet had the opportunity to find out
first-hand.
Kitti reached out a hand as I moved to pass her.
"Ah, Tania," she drawled, "You look perky this evening."
Her hand caressed my breast. As she did so, an
extension rapidly forming at her wrist, the material of her
suit warping itself to shape a beautifully-formed penis,
artfully executed with realistic veining and natural colors.
The head of the instantly produced dick pressed briefly
against the lips of the cunt between my tits, then slipped into
my still-wet opening, just once.

24 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


I suppressed a gasp. Kitti's eyes closed briefly, a slow
blink.
"You've been busy, I see," she said, smiling sardonically,
"But, knowing you, I doubt it will reduce your enthusiasm for
your job."
"Oh, no," I replied earnestly, "I can't tell you how horny I
feel working here makes me."
"Very good," she said nodding, her smile twisting her lips,
"Carry on."
I turned to go. As I did so, Kitti slid her hand under the
hem of my short skirt to pat me on the ass, the stiff dick at
her wrist slipping inside me once again.
"Yes, I thought so," she added, "Such a slut."
"Thank you, Ma’am" I answered, grinning widely, and
went to work with a spring in my step. I like to get
compliments from the management.
I dumped by purse in my cubbyhole in the staff area, put
on my most winning and helpful expression and stepped out
to assist the guests.
Some of the Club's machines are extremely retro, all
shining metal rods and toothed wheels, driven by bulky and
old-fashioned electrical motors. Of course this is all just part
of the appeal, for some people. I passed one alcove near the
entrance where two bronzed and muscular men with shaved
heads were enjoying Old Faithful.
One man was kneeling on the bench in front of the
machine, strapped in place with belts around his ankles and
behind his knees, the glisteningly oiled red plastic dildo
which was attached to Old Faithful's reciprocating arm sliding
slowing but inexorably deep into and out of the man's ass.
On each powerful thrust, the kneeling man was forced
forward. His companion was taking advantage of this
movement to fuck him in the mouth, Old Faithful's rhythmic
movements forcing his cock deep into other's throat.
Both customers appeared to be enjoying themselves, and
each other. The kneeling man was supporting himself on
one hand and wanking himself steadily with the other, in
time with the machine behind him and thrusts of his lover's
cock in his mouth. The boys did not look like they needed

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 25


any assistance, so I just watched appreciatively for a
moment or two before moving on.
Part 4
As I circulated, nodding politely to the regular members I
recognized, or occasionally directing some guest to a
particular rendezvous area or sex machine, I thought about
my first encounter with the management at the Chromium
Shaft Club.
There is always a lot of interest in gaining a position in
the Chromium Shaft Club; these days, there is a
considerable amount of kudos and public admiration attached
to such roles. I had been recommended through a mutual
acquaintance a scant few months before, and I was
overwhelmed to be attending for an audition. Some people
have been on waiting lists of years - even decades - before
even getting to the interview stage.
I had arrived early at the staff door, the automation
recognizing me immediately and directing me to the little
anteroom I would subsequently learn is used only as a
holding pen on staff recruitment days. I hung around
nervously in the waiting room with a few other hopefuls. I
was only in the room for a few minutes but, right then, it
seemed like a lifetime. I had heard about "stage fright"
before and I certainly had that churning sensation of
butterflies in my stomach.
After a while, I noticed that everyone else looked as
nervous as I felt. Most of the interviewees had come with a
friend - or more than one - presumably for support and
encouragement. One sad-looking blond man - probably a
Norm - was being comforted by a couple of girls, who were
taking turns to suck his limp and flaccid dick in a forlorn
effort to produce a hard-on. No doubt the pressure of the
audition was already at work, even before it had properly
begun.
I sat demurely - for me, anyway - on a straight-backed
chair, ankles crossed and knees firmly together. I had worn
one of my short skirts - longer than most in my wardrobe,
perhaps, but still only coming half-way down my thighs and
just covering the region where my Norm skin around my ass
meets the soft leather-effect of my Marquis Doll legs.

26 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


One of the group was called - a petite and busty blonde -
although I did not hear any announcement. She stood up,
tugged her skirt straight and adjusted her décolletage, then
unhesitatingly stepped towards the inner door - the one I
had not entered by - guided by some component of the PA
currently invisible to me.
I caught the eye of the poor man who was failing to
respond to the increasingly desperate attentions of the girls
kneeling in front of him. Realizing that he was probably
much more nervous than I was, I smiled widely at him and
uncrossed my legs to give him just a flash of the smooth lips
between my legs. Then, growing in confidence, I drew back
my shoulders and unbuttoned my blouse a little - just
enough for him to be able to see my second cunt nestling in
my cleavage.
Not taking my eyes from his for a moment, I slowly
moistened one fingertip on my tongue, then ran it over the
lips between my breasts before slipping my finger back into
my mouth. His eyes widened as he watched me, and his
dick must have hardened too, judging by the appreciative
purring noises his two lady friends started to make.
At that moment, a sign appeared in mid-air, showing just
one word - "Tania" - in shiny chrome letters on a black
background. It was the management summoning me, of
course. No one else noticed the sign, since it was projected
into my line of sight - and only mine - by the pervasive
automation. Unconsciously mimicking the blonde who had
gone before, I stood up, adjusted my clothing and strode
towards the inner door.
Madame Maxine, the proprietor of the Club, was sitting in
a high-backed chair behind a desk - an extremely traditional
setting - in one corner of her office. The desk and chair was
lit from above, forming a pool of light; the rest of the room
was in darkness, which made it particularly hard to judge
just how big the room really was.
Maxine beckoned me over and bade me sit in another
chair, set precisely opposite her on the other side of the
desk. She asked a few questions, more for the style of the
thing, I suspected, rather as a real request for information. I
answered clearly and as honestly as I could, feeling just a
little intimidated - which was almost certainly the intention.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 27


I suppose in the historical past there would have been
plenty of form-filling at this point - details captured in
triplicate on paper, perhaps. Nowadays, of course,
practically everything about me was publicly known: my
family and friends, education records, what kind of person I
like to fuck best, my DNA sequence, who I slept with last
night. Everything was available for those who cared to
enquire, and all this would certainly - I hoped - have been
studied before I was even called for an audition.
"Now," she said, "We need to see you in action - how you
make new acquaintances and how you entertain them."
The formality of the setting was infectious.
"Yes, Madame," I replied.
"Very good," she said, "Now go and sit over there, and
wait for further instruction."
Another dim pool of light had appeared, illuminating a
large couch finished in dark brown leather in another corner
of the room. I stood up immediately, raising my head high
and straightening my back, before I walked catwalk-style
over to the seating she had indicated, hoping she would like
the view of my behind.
I sat on the couch, once again rather demurely. The dim
local lighting made it difficult to see what was going on. As
far as I could tell, Madame Maxine was interviewing someone
else, but I could not make out who it was or overhear what
was being said.
Madame's voice rang out loudly, presumably amplified by
the automation.
"The audition begins," she boomed, "Show me how you
can entertain one another."
The lights came up around me, simultaneously
illuminating two other places in the room. In a second
corner, the busty blonde I had seen entering before me lay
sprawled on a couch identical to the one I was occupying. In
a third corner, the man with two lady friends from the
waiting room was sat on yet another couch, still looking
rather nervous. There was darkness where Madame's desk
was located, although I had no doubt that she was till sitting
there watching.

28 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


I was determined to put on a good show. I had noted the
man's reaction in the anteroom, and reckoned - correctly, as
it turned out - he would head for me first. Guessing this, I
elected to move towards the other woman, who gave no sign
of wanted to bestir herself from her repose.
Without a word being said, we converged on the reclining
form of the blonde woman. I unbuttoned my blouse and let
it slide to the floor behind me as I walked. Unhesitatingly, I
knelt and kissed the other woman full on the lips, tonguing
her enthusiastically. She responded by grasping my naked
breasts with both hands and squeezing my nipples firmly,
which made then erect and very sensitive. Her exploring
fingers found the extra opening between my tits. She pulled
me up so that my breasts were over her mouth, kissing and
licking those lips as energetically as she had been embracing
my mouth a moment before.
The man was by now behind me. I had kept my skirt on,
but he slid it up over my ass, forming what was basically a
belt around my waist. He licked me between the legs -
rather inexpertly, I felt, but with great verve – before
kneeling on the couch with his dick on a level with my face
and the other woman's tits. Taking the unsubtle hint, we
girls took it in turns to suck his penis, which rapidly
hardened. His stage fright seemed to have evaporated in
the heat of the moment.
I made sure I gave the two of them an equal amount of
attention, although the blond man seemed to make a point
of entering both of us girls in every available hole, if only for
a few seconds. He seemed to enjoy taking us from behind,
in both places, while standing, practically demanding that the
ladies present their various openings to him.
While the man was taking me in the rear, holding onto
the belt around my waist and pulling me back roughly, I bent
forward to lick and finger the other woman's cunt. The girl
responded gratifyingly strongly to my attentions, and I was
soon able to slip first two and then three fingers inside her,
while stimulating her clit with rapid strokes from the very tip
of my tongue. She came quickly, the throbbing of her
vaginal muscles around my fingers going on for a flatteringly
long time; I really am very good at licking women out.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 29


The man seemed particularly appreciative of the cunt
between my breasts. Shortly, I found myself kneeling and
pulled him firmly towards me, forcing him deeply inside me.
I hoped he would appreciate the tightness of my opening,
and the unusual sensation of his balls running between my
breasts. I fucked him increasingly hard, all the time looking
up him, never taking my eyes from his for a moment.
Meanwhile, the other woman grasped his ass cheeks from
behind, licking and fingering his anus.
The combined attention was too much for him to last very
much longer. He exploded inside me, filling my upper cunt
with a huge amount of sticky semen. I got the distinct
impression that he had abstained from sex for days.
Juddering and groaning, he collapsed on the couch looking
extremely satisfied, while I exerted the internal muscles
which would draw his cum deeper inside me, finally ending
up in my stomach.
"Thank you all," Madame's voice rang out again, "You'll be
hearing from us."
I turned to leave, tugging down my skirt and retrieving
my blouse from the floor. I slipped it back on and spent a
moment re-fastening the buttons. Suddenly another black-
and-chrome sign flashed in front of me which said, simply,
"Stay."
I realized I had just got a job.
Part 5
The Chromium Shaft Club maintains, for the exclusive use
of its members and their guests, a huge assortment of sex
toys of all kinds. One well-known variety are known as
tentacle machines, and the most popular of these is called
the Octopus as it has, as you might expect, eight
appendages.
The Octopus is a marvel of modern engineering, with an
incredible degree of variability and flexibility. For example,
both the color and the texture of the tentacles varies
depending on the desires of the user: shiny cold metal for
the real machine sex effect, warm black leather for those
who like their fetishes retro, mottled green-and-brown
snakeskin, or even a combo of ribbed purple and red nubbles
for that genuine alien sex effect.

30 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


During my perambulations, I noticed a small group of
guests standing around, inspecting the dull-grey and inert
machine nestling on the low ceiling in the large alcove which
is its usual resting place. The party appeared nervous and
unsettled. It is a key part of my job to make sure that
members and their guests are comfortable, relaxed and,
eventually, very satisfied by their experiences.
"Can I help?" I asked brightly, in the perky up-for-
anything way that the management likes so much, while
watching the group carefully in order to judge their
reactions.
"Err," one man began, "We're not sure exactly how this
thing works."
"This is the Octopus, isn't it?" one of his female
companions interjected.
"Well, it is indeed the Octopus," I confirmed, adding, "One
of our more popular attractions. Perhaps I can demonstrate
the machine for you?"
Several of the gathering looked at each other, faces
becoming alight with intrigued interest and more than a little
lust. The man who had spoken earlier, a short man of
obviously oriental origins and impressive pectoral muscles
who clearly had elected himself spokesperson for the group,
answered me.
"You know, I think that would be really great."
I grinned widely in response, then stripped off the
sleeveless jacket and short skirt that served to identify staff
members, and tossed them casually into a corner. Now quite
naked, I stood on the low dais positioned directly beneath
the machine which, sensing me beneath it, awoke suddenly
with a coordinated and frankly sensuous movement of all
eight tentacles. There was a gasp from at least one of my
audience, and several of the group stepped back
instinctively.
The unfolding tentacles stretched down toward me, their
surfaces mottling and darkening as the automation inferred
my preferences, based on its internal model of generalized
human pleasures and direct observation of my previous
experiences. I had demonstrated this machine on several
previous occasions, and so it knew that I would soon be

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 31


ready for its most intimate attentions. As the tentacles
began to run themselves over my body, I kept up a running
commentary for the guests, at least as long as I could.
"So, ladies and gentlemen," I began, "Our Octopus is the
latest model, perfectly capable of fucking eight people at a
time, or concentrating on just one.
At about this point, the tentacles darted down and picked
me up. Two each curved around my thighs and and my
upper arms, holding me in a near-vertical spread-eagle
position; a fifth looped twice around my waist, ending up
with the tip of the tentacle nestling between my boobs.
"For the ladies," I continued, "Our tame toy will - if you so
require - restrain you and enter you, stretch you, fuck you,
everywhere you desire."
The remaining tentacles converged on me, moving snake-
like over my skin and glistening moistly with secretions from
glands located close to each tip. Moving together, two
appendages insinuated their way into my lower cunt and
anus, making me gasp suddenly - a reaction echoed from at
least one member of the audience. The member between
my breasts elongated, thrusting its own wet phallus into the
cunt between my breasts.
"As you can see," I continued, "The Octopus's tentacles
move together, to stimulate our valued members in the most
erotic - and effective - way possible."
The last tentacle filled my mouth, curtailing the last part
of my sales pitch - or at least the verbal portion of it. To be
honest, I doubt that any of the audience were by now
actually listening to the words I had used, but were
nevertheless enthralled by the physical spectacle.
Pulsing in synchronization, the two appendages between
my legs and the one between my breasts forced their way
deeper into me. It was clear to the machine, and to the
watching crowd, that I would come very soon. The four
appendages filling my various openings came impressively
nearly together, forcing large quantities of authentically
warm and sticky cum inside my every orifice.
I came, hard, twice in quick succession, crying and
screaming even around the gagging appendance in my
mouth. There was a corresponding explosion of applause

32 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


from the audience, as well as tell-tale gasps and cries; even
though my eyes had been closed, I was sure that at least
two of them had experienced orgasms at about the same
time I had.
The Octopus set me down, still shaking from the orgasm I
had just experienced, and with the authentically warm and
sticky cum was dripping from my thighs, ass and lower cunt.
I started licking the remaining semen-substitute up, not
wanting to waste any, and running my fingers over my
breasts and between my legs to retrieve all the drops to
convey them to my mouth. I had already swallowed the
cum in my mouth while still shaking with passion, and the
muscles in the vagina between my breasts had reflexively
sucked the fluids from that opening into my stomach.
Now that's what I call a milkshake!

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 33


Volume 3 – A Shot in the Dark

Part 1
My performance with the tentacle machine sure had made
its mark with the audience in the Chromium Shaft Club.
People were standing two-deep in a circle around the dimly-
lit platform. Some applauded wildly, some were looking on
in thoughtful silence, and many were still openly
masturbating, or with tongues, fingers or dicks inserted deep
into wide-open mouths, moist cunts or lubricated anuses.
After the Octopus had set me down, several guests
started clamoring to experience the machine themselves.
These things rarely need policing, in my experience: as it
becomes clear that a particular individual might just succeed
in their claim, they either back away or jump in with both
feet
As I licked up the last of the cum, a tight-bodied blonde
pushed her way forward. Encouraged by the group of friends
she had clearly come with, the slender girl stepped up onto
the raised dais under the machine. The tentacles, sensing
her presence and willingness, came to life, sliding smoothly
from the hub fixed to the darkened ceiling. As I watched,
the tentacles' color changed to a deep blood-red, the
machine sensing, as is the way of pervasive automation,
one's deep and often unexpressed preferences - preferences
the PA knows from a lifetime's observations coupled to a
hugely sophisticated model of human behavior.
The woman on the dais stood naked with her hands on
her hips, looking up at the appendages snaking their way
towards her, her face a picture compounded of lust and
excitement, with just a hint of fear. She raised her chin, her
nipples hardened visibly and the muscles in the thighs
twitching slightly. Just before the first of the tentacles
reached her, she glanced at me, a half-grin on her face. I
smiled back conspiratorially. I had seen this machine at
work many times before, and I suspected I knew exactly how

34 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


it would take this newbie. As it turned out, I was exactly
right.
The first two tentacles wrapped themselves twice around
her upper arms, their tips coming to rest under her breasts.
Two more eased their around her thighs, lifting her from the
ground and roughly forcing her legs apart, arching her
backwards to give the maximum access to her cunt.
The fifth of the machines limbs wrapped itself around her
neck, bending her head backwards, and one more slid
between her breasts. Yet another tentacle extended itself
over her navel to press its narrowed tip - already vibrating
visibly - over her clit, and the last, glistening with oily
lubrication exuded from glands near the tip, began to rub
itself over the lips of her vagina.
She was evidently ready for the machine's fuck. The last
tentacle entered her vagina, sliding smoothly in and out,
edging its way deeper with each thrust and making her moan
aloud in pleasure. The tips of the two appendages holding
her arms moved up over her tits, moving side-to-side over
each nipple. I could see both teats darken and harden under
the machine's ministrations.
The tentacle fucking her was now penetrating her deeply,
moving more quickly and urgently, growing in size to entirely
fill her, its reciprocating motion forcing her to move to its
rythym. The coordinated actions of all of the tentacles
increased, a writhing mass of perspiring pink skin, blood red
limbs and glistening lubrication.
"Yes," she cried, eyes closed, "Yes, now, harder."
She was clearly close to orgasm, I knew, and as I
watched, the suspended woman jerked and squirmed in her
restraints, letting out a long low cry, almost a moan, in her
pleasure and relief.
The movement of the tentacle between her legs slowed
almost to a stop, and the vibrating appendage had moved
away from her clit. it must have seemed to her, if only for a
split second, that it was all over, that was all she would get.
She was, as I had anticipated, quite wrong.
The tentacle which had been fucking her cunt, now
lubricated with a mix of her own juices and those from the
machine, found its way further between her legs and slipped

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 35


itself deep into her anus. She had just enough time to gasp
and cry out before the tentacle between her breasts filled her
mouth forming a gag, one capable of extending itself down
her throat at a moment's notice.
The tips of the two appendages which had been
stimulating her nipples widened themselves to nozzles and
clamped themselves over her tits. From the movements of
her breasts, I could see the funnels were flexing and sucking,
alternately clamping down on her nipples and sucking them
hard. Her eyes bulged as the intense stimulation - even pain
- caught her unawares.
The tentacle which had been at her clit slammed into her
vagina, widening noticeably to form a thick stiff dick and
drilled her mercilessly. The two appendages in her anus and
cunt began to move together, much faster and harder than
before, banging away at the blonde woman as she writhed in
the restraints.
Her pleasuring took a lot longer the second time but the
machine finally brought her to a huge, a massive orgasm
which must have made the first one seem insipid by
comparison. As she came, the gag tentacle popped out,
allowing us all to witness the screams of pleasure and
excitement which seemed to go on for ages.
As the machine gently lowered the still-twitching woman
to the floor, I could hear her saying, over and over again like
a mantra, "Best cum ever."
Part 2
The group around the Octopus seemed to be settling in
for the evening, and they evidently no longer required my
assistance. The blonde woman's place had been taken by
the muscular oriental man I had spoken to earlier, and he
and the machine's appendages were now engaged in a
wrestling match he must have anticipating losing, judging by
the way the tentacles were already massaging his balls and
caressing his anus. As I watched, two tentacles converged
on his rock-hard and impressively large cock, one wrapping
itself around its base and the other folding in on itself before
sliding over his helmet.
The automation flashed me a sign indicating that I was
required elsewhere. I made my way slowly around the club

36 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


until I ended up in the hospitality suite, adjacent to the main
reception area, where the VIP members and guests wre
usually greeted.
When I arrived, the room was clamorous and nearly full
with guests circulating, and several other hosts and
hostesses were offering drinks and drugs, or assisting in
more intimate ways. Madame Maxine and Kitti were both in
evidence, greeting personally a few of the more important -
or at least self-important - guests themselves, occasionally
directing members of staff, or introducing one member to
another, based on their encyclopedic knowledge of
everyone's indulgences and peccadilloes.
In this area, dress of some description is generally worn,
although elegant nudity - frequently aided with extravagant
make-up or body paint - is also much in evidence. Some
wore elaborate garments of leather and straps and boots,
while other wore clothing which, I'm told, in another era
would have been regarded as underwear - a popular retro
look these days. Yet others wore modern clingy and
intermittently revealing dresses, usually needing built-in
automation to manage the flow of the fabrics.
Looking over, I could see Madame Maxine, looking regal
in her black silk kimono, rather formally embracing another
woman, although the apparent formality was somewhat
dispelled by the kiss exchanged and the way Madame patted
the naked ass of her friend.
The stranger had a tall slender form, pale skin and very
dark - almost black - hair piled up on top of her head in an
artful mass of tangles and curls, and looked cool and elegant
with narrow hips and muscular thighs, and tastefully large
and smoothly-rounded breasts. She was dressed, in the
retro style many people seem to prefer these days, in lacy
white underwear: stockings and suspenders, with tottering
strappy high-heeled shoes and a revealing brassiere - but
not, I noticed immediately, any knickers.
Glancing in my direction, the proprietor subtly waved me
over, a gesture make unambiguous by a subliminal flash
from the PA.
"Tania," Maxine instructed as I approached, "Please guide
my good friend Victoria to the Wet Rooms."

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 37


"At once, Madame."
Maxine nodded to the other woman, then turned away to
smoothly intercept another new arrival. I faced the
newcomer.
"How can I be of assistance?" I asked, carefully formal.
"Oh, there's no need to stand on ceremony, Dearie," she
said with a noticeably British accent, "Just call me Vicky."
I wondered whereabouts in England she had originally
come from, and also wondered how long she had lived over
here, since long-distance travel is now so rare.
"OK, Vicky," I replied, warming to the woman
immediately, "Just what can I do for you?"
She looked me up and down, realizing for the first time,
perhaps, just what kind I was.
"Maxine told me that you had a Hydra here," she said,
grinning widely, "Perhaps you'd care to help me with it?"
Part 3
The Encounter Suite at the Chromium Shaft Club - more
informally known as the Wet Rooms - was kept very dark,
the illumination being managed by the automation balancing
from moment to moment the various needs and desires of
whoever was in there at the time.
The suite consisted of a maze of passages, alcoves and
small rooms, many of which contained a linked series of
pools of warm water. A few were very shallow - no more
than a few centimeters deep - while others were deep
enough for full immersion. The entire maze was dotted with
soft padded mattresses and loungers invariably upholstered
in black where, in many cases, one could relax - or at least
recline - partially in and partially out of the water.
To encourage genuine encounters with strangers, the PA
was programmed to only engage when two or more people
were fucking. It was not a place for solo machine-assisted
masturbation - there are other rooms for that elsewhere in
the Club - but somewhere where a few friendly people could
thoroughly enjoy each other with just a little help from the
technology.

38 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


As I guided her into the Wet Room entrance, Vicky
explained in graphically explicit detail exactly what her needs
were. I nodded eagerly as she spoke - her personal
requirements sounded like great fun. At the entrance, she
kicked off her shoes and unfastened her bra, but elected to
retain the remainder of her clothing.
Unhesitatingly, I unzipped the uniform miniskirt and
slipped off the sleeveless jacket that marks me out as an
employee, tossing them to one side. I knew that the PA
would retrieve, clean, dry and fold these items, and place
them in some convenient spot to be picked up later.
Five minutes later, Vicky and I were relaxing on a low
couch close to the water's edge. She seemed anxious to
explore my breasts and the intimate opening between them.
While I leaned back, she licked my nipples alternately,
cupping my tits with her hands while sucking harder and
harder on each teat. She was gripping me more firmly each
time she changed her attentions from one breast to the
other, making me gasp with pleasure each time she
increased the pressure. I thought I might have an orgasm -
a willy-nilly - just from her stimulation of my boobs alone.
Before reaching that point, Vicky moved her fingers to the
vagina between my tits, which was by now wet and open,
and fingered me vigorously and expertly. I came almost
immediately, the muscles in my chest spasming tightly
around her fingers.
"How was that, Honey?" she purred, grinning at my
reactions to her touch.
"Oh, yes," I breathed in response.
Realizing that I had just enjoyed a Guest before I had
pleasured her - something that Madame Maxine might well
raise a stern eyebrow at - I moved quickly to reciprocate,
following that principle that says sexual partners do to you
what they want you to do to them. Not always true, of
course, but reasonably reliable in first encounters.
I gently pressed Vicky back against the couch and moved
my mouth down to her breasts, quickly sucking hard on her
nipples while holding her breasts - really too large to fit into
my hands - and squeezing her teats between my fingertips.
Under my ministrations, her nipples grew, and darkened, and

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 39


then grew some more, ending up as large and as hard as the
end of my thumb.
The approach of twinkling lights in the water indicated the
arrival of the machinery. A Hydra is a multi-headed water
snake, and the heads - this particular one had five - poked
themselves above the surface nearby. The Hydra are
programmed to imitate the actions of people engaging in
sexy fun, with the additional feature that it would apply
water jets - steadily or pulsed, from a trickle to a flood - or
other lubricating fluids, as it deemed appropriate.
Two of the Hydra heads that had appeared from the pool
positioned themselves either side of my head. I caught their
movement in the corner of my eye and pulled back slightly,
watching in fascination as the machine's snakeheads pulsed
jets of water against Vicky's engorged nipples. In a
sinuously smooth movement, one of the heads clamped itself
over her left teat, swelling slightly to take in her unusually
large nipples and a fair proportion of the surrounding aurora.
She groaned as the machine increased the suction, swelling -
I imagined - her sensitive erections still further.
Following the instructions Vicky had provided earlier, I
moved my mount down to lick her clit. A few swift caresses
from the tip of my tongue caused it to extend and stiffen
incredibly, becoming nearly as big as her nipples. Following
the programming, a third head emerged and moved to play
its water-jet against her swollen clit.
To leave room for the snakes to stimulate Vicky's swollen
protuberances, I squatted down beside the couch, then
reached out to ease two fingers inside her vagina.
The two remaining Hydra heads emerged, one
immediately playing its water-jet over my nipples and the
cunt between my legs. The other oozed an oily secretion
against the vaginal lips between my legs before sliding inside
me, where it started pulsing in a way I found ecstatically
mesmerizing.
The water-jets on Vicky's nipples and clitoris gave Vicky
several orgasms in quick succession. I could feel her
powerful muscular spasms around my fingers, keenly - if
vicariously - enjoying the other woman's pleasures while
building up to an explosive climax of my own.

40 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


I really will have to help out in the Wet Rooms more
often!
Part 4
After the fun in the Wet Rooms, I slipped back into my
uniform, ready to resume the meet-and-greet role expected
of me by the Club management. I was heading back
towards the main reception area when I was intercepted by a
well-built man wearing a towel slung casually over one
shoulder. I thought I recognized him from the crowd around
the tentacle machine.
"Hi, err, Tania," he said, squinting at the name-tag on my
jacket, "My friends and I were watching you with the
Octopus earlier, and now we have a problem."
"Uh-huh, sure," I said, smiling brightly, already beginning
to suspect exactly what was to come.
He put a hand on my arm and directed me towards a
doorway nearby, which stood partially open, revealing a
darkened room beyond.
"A really big problem, and we really, really need your
help," he continued, grinning lustfully at me.
I stepped inside. The man followed me closely and shut
the door behind us. He took my hand casually and I turned
to face him in the near-darkness.
"So what is this big problem?" I asked eagerly, "and how
can I help?"
"Our problem," he replied laconically, directing my hand
downwards, "Is that these erections just won't go away."
As my eyes rapidly adjusted to the dimness of the room, I
could see five other men lounging on the seating. All were
quite naked, and all had rigid erections which stiffened
further as I appreciatively looked over the goods on display.
"Aw," I thought, "How sweet. An old-fashioned gang-
bang!"
The man who had intercepted me was standing right
behind me, so close that I could feel his dick pressing into
the small of my back. I turned and bent, running my hand
teasingly over the head of his cock before briefly cupping his
balls and planting a pouting kiss on his helmet. His penis

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 41


jerked so hard that I thought for a split-second that he was
going to come on my face there and then, but fortunately -
for me - he managed to get himself under control.
I stepped away, towards the center of the room.
"Well, boys," I asked, barely able to keep a smirk off my
face, "Why don't you come over here and let me help you
out?"
The men - I would later confirm that they were all Norms
- needed no further encouragement. They stood as one and
moved to stand in a circle around me. I knelt to a convenient
height to get my mouth to work on the exciting array of
manhoods. It is always my pleasure to taste every cock I
am presented with, a sample to assess the level of control,
the size and the hardness of each. I moved around the
circle, licking and sucking each dick for a minute or so, while
wanking the adjacent ones, in each case imagining what this
particular one would feel like in each of my openings.
All in all, they were a splendid collection of phalluses as I
had ever come across - quite literally, in most cases! I found
it necessary to test a couple of the dicks on display a second
time, to the very evident pleasure of the recipients. Finally I
made my decision - I knew exactly which dick I wanted in
each hole and a fairly good idea of exactly how to extract the
maximum number of orgasms - for me, as well as them -
from the party.
Selecting one of the men, I pushed him down on the low
couch and sucked him once again, being sure to leave his
dick dripping wet with my own saliva. I mounted him
reverse cowboy style, first in my cunt - already wet with
eager anticipation - and then, after a few vigorous thrusts, I
eased his dick into my ass.
The man who had invited me in leant over me, holding
my breasts and squeezing my nipples before licking the
vagina lips between them. Another started licking my clit
and the opening between my legs, making the juices - a
mixture of his saliva and my own intimate fluids - flow to
further lubricate the steady piston-like movements of the
dick in my ass. Being licked out in both cunts simultaneously
I always find so very exciting and it was only a few moments
before I experienced the first of several powerful orgasms.

42 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


I would have cried out, but my mouth was filled by
another cock I had already guided there. Sensing me come,
the two who had been licking me moved to fill me in both
cunts. Now I had both hands busy too, keeping the other
two boys hard and excited, ready to fuck me after their
friends had shot their loads. I was careful to pace my
strokes, not wishing them to cum in my hands, but to hold
them off until I was able to take them inside me.
The pounding in my chest and throat did not last long,
and volleys of warm semen soon filled me. I swallowed
reflexively, the cum in both openings draining into my
stomach. The two spent dicks withdrew gracefully, and I
guided the cocks in each hand to take their places.
The cock in my mouth came almost immediately - just in
time! - and I sucked hard to drain him as much as possible.
The penis that now slipped between my breasts was
larger than the previous one - almost too big for that
opening, but now with extra lubrication the tension was so
stimulating. I grasped the man's thighs and encouraged him
to fuck me harder, until both he and the man in my lower
cunt blew their loads into me, coming together because of
my orgasmic contractions.
Then, and only them, did I tense the muscles in my ass,
squeezing the dick in my anus and bouncing up and down
with all the energy and flexibility I could muster. I could feel
him cum in my ass, hard, kicking off the last of my own
orgasms, writhing and squealing under the press of bodies
still holding me down.
I lay still with my eyes closed for a few moments, basking
in the interior glow caused by powerful sex. The weight of
bodies moved off me, and I opened my eyes and rolled off
the couch, eliciting a gasp from the man whose softening
cock was still in my ass.
As I looked around at my companions, the PA reminded
me with a subliminal flash that it was approaching the end of
my shift. I moved to collect my uniform - no point in putting
it back on - and stepped towards the door.
"Well, boys," I said, turning to look back at the relaxing
men and detumescent cocks, "I hope you've all enjoyed
yourselves, 'cos it's time for me to go."

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 43


An array of satisfied grins was answer enough.
I made my way back to the staff room to change into my
own clothes. I took a five-second dry shower - not as
satisfying as the longer wet ones I prefer - before dressing.
This I achieved by simply standing in the middle of the room,
naked and with my arms held high, and closed my eyes.
There was a faint whirr of movement and a damp fluttering
sensation over my skin from the automation, which ceased
after a few seconds leaving me clean and dry. All ready to
go.
I stopped me as I was leaving the club to make my way
home by the gang bang man, who thanked me for my
enthusiasm with his friends earlier.
"You know, you really are a great tonic to a jaded man,"
he concluded laconically, "A real shot in the arm."
Part 5
A peculiar thing happened to me on the way home that
evening. I had left the Club after my shift via the staff door
as usual. It was already dark although the low-level street
lighting - managed by the PA to balance visibility with energy
use - made it easy enough to see where I was going.
I had just reached the end of the alleyway from the back
door when a man stepped out of the shadows. He was tall
and broad-shouldered and rather unusually dressed in some
formal dark suit over some kind of stiff white shirt buttoned
to the neck. I could see very little of his face under the
matching wide-brimmed dark hat.
"Hello," he called.
I stopped and turned to face the stranger. I admit it is
not entirely unknown for me to be accosted by strangers in
dark alleys, and sometime it could be real fun - I
remembered an explosive encounter with a tiny Asian
woman in this very alleyway a month or two back - but I had
a bad feeling about this man. I was not sure why, but
somehow it seemed as if he was internally torn: wanting me
desperately in a sexual way while something else - guilt,
perhaps? - was holding him back.
I deployed the body language and visual cues that would
have politely informed almost anyone that I was not

44 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


interested in an encounter with a stranger this evening. To
my surprise, he entirely ignored my signals and walked right
up to me, putting his hand on my arm and looked as if he
was preparing to make a grab for my tits.
"I want you to come with me," he said brusquely.
He was creepy, really strange. It was almost as if he
imagined there was nothing which would prevent him using
force, overpowering me and dragging me away against my
will.
"No!" I said, a little louder than I had probably intended,
just to make my feelings entirely clear.
Before he had moved more than a centimeter, the
automation swung into action, a flurry of activity really only
visible as a grey blur in the air. A second later, the PA left
him lying, breathless but unharmed, on the paving ten
meters away. As I walked on, it occurred to me that he
looked surprised, shocked, perhaps even horrified at what
had just happened. It was almost as if he had never seen
the policing action of the pervasive automation at work
before.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 45


Volume 4 – Teddy Bear’s Picnic
Part 1
The following day's plan was a long-awaited picnic in the
country park with a group of friends. I had awoken early, as
I often do, in rather child-like excited anticipation. I lay still
on the futon, not wishing to disturb my dear friend Renie
who was still snoring gently beside me.
Steve was away, attending to one or another of the
mysterious pieces of business that keeps him busy and
surprisingly financially solvent, so it was just the two of us
keeping each other warm. I am always horny in the
mornings - well, to be honest, I am horny almost all the time
- and I felt sure that a little patience would allow me to fuck
with Renie when she woke up.
I lay in the darkness, which soon softened slightly by
illumination coming from the far wall, the lighting forming
themselves into the shape of a clock by the automation,
sensing my need automatically in the subliminal way the PA
usually works.
I may have fallen back to sleep again, or at least entered
one of those mysterious physiological states part-way
between sleeping and waking. In any case, it seemed only
seconds later when Renie started to stir next to me, writhing
in that luxurious way common to those who have just woken
from a deep sleep.
It is at times like this that a straightforward and
rewarding fuck between friends is exactly what is required,
and Renie's dick-girl essence always seems up for the
challenge. Renie held me close, both of us lying on our
sides, spooning. I could feel her morning hard-on pressing
right up against my ass.
I do not know what I had been dreaming about - I do not
remember anything specific on that occasion - but it seemed
that I was was already wet and ready for her dick. Again, I

46 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


don't know what need or fantasy had been going through
Renie's head, but she too was hard and demanding, her cock
ready and willing to satisfy my own urgent requirement.
Renie moved gently, shifting herself so that her rampant
penis slid between my legs and started rubbing over the
outer lips of my vagina. I tensed, positioning myself so that
at a single movement I could redrect her thrusts so as to
accommodate her hark penis, but loath to move too soon
when I was enjoying the teasing sensations so much.
Finally, I could take no more.
"Fuck me, Darlin'," I breathed, flexing so that Renie's next
movement caused her dick to slip into me. I gasped as her
beautifully well-formed, although not particularly large cock
separated the lip of my vagina. Obligingly, she started the
luxuriously slow and deep movements that I knew she could
keep up for hours. I moved against her, thrusting myself
backwards to accommodate every part of her dick inside me.
Wanting more, I rolled over and drew up my knees,
pressing my head right down onto the mattress. With my ass
right up in the air, I wondered which hole Renie would take
me in this morning.
Playfully, Renie ran the head of her cock over both
openings before pressing herself deeply into my cunt. I
gasped, and again, while Renie's increasingly frantic
movements brought me to the brink of orgasm. I could feel
her tension, and her movements started to become just a
little uncoordinated. I came then, the muscular pulses in my
vagina bringing Renie off too.
We lay gasping in each others arms for a minute or five
then, feeling energized and ready to face the world,
We both threw aside the duvet and bounced giggling from
the futon, making for the bathroom. After peeing, we
jumped in the shower together, soaping each other down in
a lather of soapy suds under the running water. We stood
close to each other, breasts and nipples rubbing against the
others skin and our legs spread to facilitate access for finger
play.
It was not long before we adopted a position we both like
a lot. With one of my hands, I rubbed Renie's dick, now
rapidly hardening again and lubricated by the water and

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 47


soapy lotions that we both use. The other I positioned from
behind, sliding between her ass cheeks and thighs, finally
slipping two fingers inside her cunt. With the tips of my long
nails, I was able to massage that oh-so-sensitive spot on the
roof of her opening just inside the place where her vagina
lips merge smoothly with the base of her cock.
Renie reached in front of me, with one hand directing the
lotion from my breasts onto her fingers before slipping their
tips into the opening between my tits. Her other arm
reached behind me, between my legs, caressing my anus for
a moment before slipping her thumb in my lower vagina and
stroking my clit with two long-taloned fingers.
We stood together for a long moment, kissing and
masturbating each other while the water ran over our bodies.
It is always special when I orgasm when fingered in both
vaginas simultaneously, and I am certain that Renie loves it
when cock and cunt are stimulated. We know each other so
well by now that it was only a matter of minutes before we
brought each other off, Renie's cum decorating the shower
tiles while my breasts danced in time to my gasping cries.
Part 2
The meeting point for the picnic party was the plaza just
outside our local Metro station. Renie and I were almost the
last to arrive, made just a minute or two late by our
extended shower. Our bus was already waiting, but
fortunately everyone else was still standing on the sidewalk
when we rounded the corner of the street.
Apart from Renie and myself, there were eight people
boarding. Only one I recognized immediately: Little Lil
waved gaily when she saw us approach, the bunches of her
blonde hair tied with pink ribbons waggling as she nodded
her head. Lil is a Lolita - a Kind not seen so very frequently
and one still likely to cause a stir. She is almost
prepubescent in appearance, with a slender body and the
merest bumps for breasts, although of course she is as old
and sexually experienced as anyone these days. Still, she
likes to play on her child-like appearance, and the pink
ribbons and gingham summer dress are all part of the game.

48 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


Steve, Renie's boyfriend, sauntered up, approaching from
the other direction as we arrived.
"Did you have a successful evening?" Renie greeted him
enthusiastically.
"Business-wise, sure did," he replied, looking hungrily at
her breasts bouncing happily in her tight cheerleaders top,
"But it left a few other things to be desired."
As they embraced, kissing passionately, I watched as
Steve slipped a hand under her short skirt. I could see the
pleats bulge as her cock hardened under his caresses.
"Come on, you too," I said to get their attention, "Don't
want to be left behind."
We scrambled up the steps, the door closing automatically
behind us. Externally, our vehicle was deliberately made to
resemble a Greyhound bus from the Internal Combustion era
of long ago - at least judging by pictures I have seen -
although inside it was entirely modern. The vehicle moved
silently and drove itself, moving off smoothly along the quiet
roads towards our picnic destination.
Inside, rather than rather cramped seating for fifty or
more people, which might have been expected in ancient
times, this bus was much more spacious and luxurious. Soft
carpeting, banquette seating and mountains of cushions
provided comfortable and relaxing surroundings for up to a
dozen people, while the mirrored windows kept out the glare
of the sun and the gaze of bystanders - as if anyone really
worried about that kind of thing these days, of course.
As the bus set off, Renie and Steve lost no time in re-
establishing their acquaintances with each other's bodies,
immediately annexing a low couch in one corner of the
coach. Renie scooped her ample breasts from the
constraints of her halter top and pressed the nipples to
Steve's mouth one after the other, which he sucked and
nuzzled greedily. It seemed that they had missed each other
desperately, and lost no time in stripping off their clothes
and sucking each other's dicks to rampant hardness. Their
evident sexual needs awakened my own appetites - never
very far away anyway - and I turned my attentions to getting
to know the others in the party.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 49


Sitting opposite me was Alice, a curvaceous black woman
with full lips and her hair a mass of tiny plaits each ending in
a colored wooden bead. She was dressed in a brightly-
colored and patterned robe, a Kanga, no doubt modeled on
the tribal clothing that at least some of her ancestors would
have worn in the heat of the African plains. She had most
impressive tits - the nipples protruding visibly though the
thin fabric - and an even more impressive fanny. She looked
directly at me as Lil spoke, eyes flashing, clearly inviting me
to enjoy her voluptuous form very soon.
Alice was flanked by two large men, both of whom clearly
wanted to experience those curves for themselves. Charlie
and Bear were both muscular and heavily built, with tanned
skin and tufts of chest hair emerging from their open-necked
Hawaiian shirts. Bear had a mane of curly dark hair
cascading over his shoulders, while Charlie was entirely bald
- whether shaven or genetically modified I could not tell.
Alice shifted in her seat, leaning towards Bear and
pressing her tits against his arm, while sliding her fanny onto
Charlie's lap. He reacted eagerly by running his hands over
the curves of her ass, while Bear responded to her invitation
by kissing her lips and running his hands over her breasts.
After a few moments, her diaphanous robe loosened itself
and slipped unnoticed to the floor, allowing me - and the
other observers - to appreciate just how sexy her body really
was.
Next to Lil sat two identical men. The twins, Theodore
and Edward, were apparently known to everyone as Teddy
and Eddie. She and the boys had also been watching Alice
entertain the two men opposite, but now turned their
attention to me. I was particularly taken with the twins,
each dressed in tight blue jeans that accentuated their
narrow waists and flat stomachs - not to mention the taut
curves of their asses and bulging packages - and sleeveless
muscle shirts in white (Eddie) and tan (Teddy). I could see
that Little Lil was also very interested in the boys, and it was
not surprising that she and I ended up tag-teaming.
It was not long before Lil and I were kneeling and naked,
and had the twins standing before us, us girls racing to
unfasten the jeans. Lil finished ahead by a few seconds by

50 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


the time I yanked down Teddy's pants; then I had quite a
surprise - both Teddy and Eddie had two cocks, each!
I gasped, then glanced at Lil, who flashed back a wicked
grin with a dick in each hand before returning to the task of
alternately sucking the two penises. Following suit, I set to
work on Teddy, wanking both cocks in synchronization before
deep-throating each in turn. Lil joined me, sucking one of
Teddy's cocks while I worked on the other. I could see Eddie
standing very close, masturbating with both hands,
alternately pulling back on first his left and then his right
foreskin, both cocks now pointing rigidly skywards.
I had not come across this Kind before. Taking a moment
to catch our breath before moving to give Eddie a dual
blowjob, Lil whispered that they were Josés - a reference, I
would later discover from the automation, to some old joke I
did not really get.
At the time, all I knew was that I wanted as many of
these dicks inside me, very soon. The boys seemed to sense
this, too. Guided by their urgent pressure, I lay on my back
on the low couch, spreading and bending my legs to give
maximum access to all my openings.
Lil is such a friend. It was she who guided Eddie's two
cocks into the openings between my legs, having fingered
my cunt and liberally licked my anus as the head of the
second penis pressed against my sphincter. Meanwhile I
guided one of Teddy's dicks into the cunt between my
breasts - I was almost sure he had not noticed that sexual
opening until a second before he had plunged into me - and I
slid the other back into my mouth.
The boys pounded away, instinctively moving in near-
synchronization. I could see Lil fingering herself furiously as
she watched me being fucked by four dicks. Teddy came
first in my chest cunt, wild and hard, and his jerking reaction
pulled his other cock from my mouth.
Lil seized the opportunity to take the last of the dicks
herself, grabbing the available member with one hand and
sitting on my breasts before guiding the hard cock inside
herself. She bounced back and forth energetically, much to
Teddy's amusement and mounting excitement, and I sensed
he would come again in a moment - no, right now!

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 51


As Teddy's other penis, now softening, ran up and down
between my tits, Eddie came simultaneously in my cunt and
ass. I could feel the spurts of his juices inside me, filling me
with his cum and making me cry aloud. My screams mingled
with Lil's girlish exclamations, and I could sense her
orgasmic contractions in her belly against my face.
Definitely a ride to remember!
Part 3
Judging by the grunts and moans from elsewhere in the
bus, I was not the only one to have thoroughly enjoyed the
trip. Lil had rolled off my face and lay panting on the couch
next to me, allowing me to still up and look around. Renie
was siting up and massaging her tits with some sticky fluid -
probably a mixture of his cum and hers - with Steve looking
on.
Alice was wanking off Charlie, who came explosively over
her breasts as I watched. Bear must have come just a few
moments earlier, and he was rubbing the head of his still-
hard dick over one dark, hard and shiny nipple. She looked
up appreciatively at the men who had just come over her,
then turned to catch my gaze again, grinning at me before
bringing first one nipple and then the other to her own
mouth.
I'm sure I would have responded immediately to the
repeated invitation if we had not been interrupted by a soft
chime followed by a flashed message from the automation
informing us all that we have arrived. I bounced up,
brimming with energy and excitement, paused for just a
moment to slip my clothes back on, and scampered to the
door which was now opening automatically.
I descended the steps and stood in the sunshine, enjoying
the light breeze and looking around me. It was an idyllic
country spot, with mature trees and dense growths of bushes
in two directions, a rocky hillside dominated the third quarter
and the roadway we had just traversed was behind me.
I was soon joined by my companions, most of whom had
restored their clothing - although Alice was now wearing her
wrap around her waist leaving her delightfully full breasts
entirely uncovered. Renie too had discarded her halter top.
She moved to stand close to Alice to discuss the direction we

52 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


should take. I could see the juxtaposition of Alice's full dark
breasts and Renie's - a little smaller and only a shade or two
lighter in color - was attracting considerable attention, not
least from Renie's boyfriend.
Their impromptu conference completed, Renie and Alice
directed the group, a few carrying light packs, along a
narrow path paved with heavy irregular stones. The trail
skirted a low-lying wooded area which looked to me as if it
might flood in winter. The other side of the path was
bordered by a lush meadow bounded a series of tall crags.
We rounded a bend and caught our first view of the lake
itself: a placid expanse of cool blue water bounded by a
sculpted curving shore marked with headlands and bays,
offering a number of picnic spots both sheltered and
secluded dotted along the shoreline. Individual plots of grass
and sandy beaches were separated by thick plantings of
trees and shrubs which would, I began to realise, allow these
little groves almost complete privacy.
Low voices or occasional giggling laughter indicated that
some of these spots were already taken by couples or larger
groups.
"This one," Renie said, indicating a fork in the path.
"Are you sure?" I asked.
"Oh, yes," she replied smiling, "I booked it earlier."
Our picnic spot was a classic: an oval of neatly clipped
grass - the gardening performed, as everything else, by the
PA - bordered by a narrow sandy beach leading down the
waters of the lake. The sand itself was delimited by several
large and artfully-placed boulders, which made the beach
very private as well as providing pleasant spots to dry off in
the sunshine after swimming. The other three sides of the
grove were hedged with dense undergrowth, with a few
mature trees to provide some shade for eating, and sleeping,
and other activities too!
Even in this remote location, the pervasive automation
was still present - that's what *pervasive* means, after all -
and could be relied upon to provide basic needs such as food
and water for everyone. Nevertheless, some members of the
party had brought small packs with them from the bus filled
with luxuries, including some bottles of wine and some real

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 53


fruit - oranges and bananas - which must have cost a
fortune. Steve had included a bottle of whiskey - a favorite
of Renie's, and mine too - and I suspected that Renie was
going to be having a good time today.
Some of the others had obviously expended some credit
on VAPAware, and items started to appear in a way which
would have seemed miraculous to a person from a previous
age: a couple of large sunshades, a selection of beach towels
in bright colors and an array of white plastic sun-loungers.
The arrival of the latter was particularly spectacular, the
material arriving piecemeal over an interval of several
seconds, so that the recliners appeared to assemble
themselves out of thin air.
Practically everybody ignored the arrival of the picnic
provisions and equipment, preferring to gaze at the delightful
surroundings for a few moments before, almost in
synchronization, dropping bags and clothes where they
stood. Most people seemed quite hot and, in many cases,
rather sticky after the walk from the bus - or perhaps more
honestly, from the heated activity while on the bus.
There was a mad dash for the water, led by Lil in the
child-like way typical of her Kind. She rushed down the
beach squealing as she encountered the cold water, then
plunged onwards into deeper water with a massive splash.
She was soon joined by everyone else, swimming - or at
least splashing about - in the refreshingly cool water. I do
not swim well - the shape of my feet to not lend themselves
to aquatic propulsion - but I had a grand old time, wading
about in the shallows and flicking handfuls of water at
anyone who came within range.
After a while, we emerged in ones and twos, dripping onto
the warm sand and, in Lil's case, shivering slightly. Renie
came over or motherly, grabbing a towel and wrapping it
around the Lolita's slight shoulders before firmly rubbing her
dry.
I lay back on a recliner, enjoying the warmth of the sun
on my body. Alice sat down on the lounger next to mine,
using a towel to dry her breasts, the rough material snagging
on her nipples and making them stand up taut. Clearly
enjoying the sensation of her teats being touched, she
dropped the towel completely and began massaging her own

54 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


breasts, scooping them up with both hands and squeezing
the nipples firmly between finger and thumb.
"Can I help you with that?" I asked, catching her eye.
She flashed me a look that was answer enough, an
opportunity to fulfill the promise her eyes had made on the
bus earlier. I joined her on her sun-lounger, moving to
support her warm mounds in my hands and sucking hard on
her already firm nipples.
After a few moments, the teat I was sucking oozed warm
milk into my mouth. The taste was indescribable - ambrosia
indeed! I realized that she was not a Norm - as I had first
assumed - but a Kind known as Mammas, capable of
frequent orgasms from having their tits sucked, and able to
offer a sweet-tasting reward to their partners.
The evident tensions I could feel in Alice's body and the
urgent moans I could hear made it clear she was enjoying
the attentions. I sucked her hard for at least ten minutes,
my efforts rewarded by further bursts of milk, culminating in
a final and much more generous spurt into my mouth as she
came.
"Now it's your turn, Honey," she breathed, rolling me over
on the recliner and starting to lick the cunt between my legs
expertly. I moaned appreciatively, although I also snuck a
look around at what the others were up to.
The twins were engaged in a round of semi-mutual
masturbation while watching Alice and I at play. Each of
them was manipulating one of their own cocks with one
hand, and one of the other man's cocks with the other hand.
I made a point of flexing my tits in their direction, by way of
an invitation, but they seemed happy enough to wank
themselves and each other while watching the show on the
lounger.
Lil was lying on a recliner and enjoying the attentions of
Charlie and Bear, sucking and jerking off the two of them
alternately while Renie knelt between her legs adeptly licking
her cunt while wanking her own cock. Nearby, Steve stood
masturbating in the self-controlled, measured way that he
has. I knew he would be taking Renie from behind very soon
- whether in cunt or anus I could not be sure - but just at the
point where both he and Renie would come together.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 55


I returned my attention to Alice, who was now fucking me
harder with her fingers making me moan with pleasure,
pausing occasionally to lick my clit and add another finger to
those she was forcing inside me. Soon the intense
stimulation brought me to a juddering orgasm which left me
twitching for a whole minute.
I was fucked out, at least for the time being, and I got the
impression that the others had reached a point of temporary
satiation.
Renie stood and moved to the packs we had brought with
us.
"Time for lunch," she announced.
Part 4
I woke and stretched luxuriously. I had fallen asleep on
one of the recliners, under the shade of the trees edging the
glade. After the highly enjoyable food and wine, and the
even more enjoyable sex, I had collapsed in a state of
ecstatic exhaustion.
Around me, my friends and companions were also dozing
in the shade: some were lying together in a tangle of limbs
and detumescent penises, while others lay alone, sheltered
by the parasols we had commanded or protected by a
colorful beach towel that a thoughtful friend had draped over
them.
It was delightfully quiet and peaceful. I lay as still as I
could, enjoying the gentle lapping of the lake water against
the beach and the breeze in the trees. Unexpectedly I heard
noises emanating from the foliage behind me - low voices
accompanied by the unmistakable soundtrack of live sex.
On a whim, I sprang up from the daybed, feeling very
much rested and just a little horny after my nap, and made
my way quietly through the bushes which surrounded our
miniature glade. A Norm, especially one who was completely
naked, might have been badly scratched by thorns and
briars, but the tough skin on my arms and legs protected me
from any harm.
I stopped before I reached the next clearing, squatting
down just behind a low hedge that demarcated the boundary

56 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


of another of the little glades so carefully maintained by the
automation.
The noises were coming from a threesome not far from
my observation post. A slender pale-skinned figure was
lying on her side, quite naked, on a portable sun-lounger
with her back towards me. An athletic-looking man with long
dark hair and and delightfully tanned - and very taut -
buttocks was holding one of her legs in the air, and was
fucking her enthusiastically in the ass. I had a splendid view
of her gaping backdoor as the tanned beach-boy withdrew
his stiff member for a moment. He ran his helmet up and
down over her ass cheeks teasingly before plunging back
deep inside her.
A second man, black-skinned and white-haired, was
enjoying the moist delights of her mouth. Her face was
turned away, but it was apparent that she was completely
bald - no hair on her head anywhere. She was alternately
sucking energetically on the second man's dick and wanking
him hard with one hand, and her other hand was gripping
the man's balls, firming his erection, no doubt, as well as
making sure he did not get away.
The two men - both Norms as far as I could tell - changed
places, the black man swapping her mouth for her anus.
She rolled onto her back as they moved around her. Her
torso was particularly slender and muscular, with no visible
breasts, although she did have delectably large nipples with
a dark aurora around them. She also had an exceptionally
hard and tight ass - even more so than me. No wonder the
boys were going at her with such abandon.
The black man gripped her by her ankles and lifted both
legs high into the air, separating them widely. As he stood
admiring the view, I realized that the lady had no equipment
between her legs - no cock, no cunt, just smooth unbroken
skin. She was an Andie - short for Androgynous - one
without either defining male or female characteristics, and as
equidistant between the two traditional genders as it was
possible to be.
As I watched, she gaped her anus again, the black man's
dick visibly stiffening still further as she did so. He leaned
forward, sliding into her opening and smoothly pressing
down until his entire length - a very decent one, in my

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 57


informed opinion - was embedded deeply inside her. She
looked as if she would have cried out if her mouth had not
been so thoroughly filled with tanned cock.
The two men swapped places again. As they moved, he
turned her head in my direction, looking up and reaching
urgently for the black man's penis, and jerking it hard
several times before guiding it to her mouth.
Now that she faced me, I realized that I recognized the
Andie. Her name, I remembered immediately, was Kim and
we had been close friends for a long period several decades
ago. She had moved away, for reasons I now forget, and I
had missed her humor and wisdom for months afterwards.
We had often double-dated, Kim joking that this
arrangement provided, on average, the right number of
cunts to entertain our companions.
From a very intimate inspection, I knew that Kim had
nothing between her legs except a tiny slitted stub - almost
like another nipple. I am always curious about such matters,
and she had explained something about her design. She was
genetically hairless - not even eyebrows - and she had
glands capable of lubricating her rear opening much like the
cunt juices I had in such abundance. All of the usual sexual
nerve endings and pleasure centers were wired to her mouth
and, more particularly, her anus, and she was capable of
frequent and intense orgasms from anal sex.
The virtuoso performance was being watched closely by
two women, lying side-by-side on an over-size sun-lounger
shaded by a canopy. They were fingering themselves and
each other’s clits lavisciously, alternatively squeezing their
own breasts and nipples, and sucking on the other’s tits, at
all times taking care that both could watch the antics on the
sun-lounger in front of them.
My own hand had already drifted downwards, taking
advantage of the the access my squatting position afforded
and the sudden wetness of my own vagina. As my fingertips
touched my own clit, I bit my bottom lip stifling a moan of
pleasure.
As my attention returned to Kim and her friends, I saw
that she had stopped sucking the black dick and appeared to
be saying something pleadingly. The men's faces broke into
wide grins and they nodded together.

58 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


The tanned man lifted Kim up, helping her to her feet,
and then rapidly positioning himself on the lounger. Kim
turned around and the dark-haired man guided her on top of
him, smoothly sliding his cock back into her ass.
Impressively, he was able to resume his energetic pounding
immediately, forcing her body upwards by the thrusting
motions of his hips.
The other man stood watching for a few moments,
moving his hand up and down over his dick, no doubt still
lubricated with Kim's saliva. Taking advantage of a pause in
his friend's pumping action, he effortlessly slid his member
into Kim's ass, synchronizing his thrusts with those of the
other man.
Kim started moaning, crying out loudly now that her
mouth was unfilled. Her expressions of pleasure got louder,
and her convulsions made it obvious that she was having an
orgasm. The two men came too, almost simultaneously, and
I could plainly see the cum from both Kim's gentlemen
admirers mingling with her own juices.
The two men withdrew, politely thanking her for the
attentions, although her body language made it plain that
Kim was not done for just yet, not by a long way. The two
women obviously recognized this, as they both stood and
moved over to the sunlounger, one of them briskly motioning
the men folk to take a seat.
One of the girls, dark-skinned and equipped with a
fabulously large pair of tits, lifted Kim's head and shoulders
and cradled her in her bosom. Kim could not even gasp her
appreciation before a taut nipple was thrust into her mouth,
although she was able to reach up and grasp the other erect
nipple between finger and thumb.
The other woman, a curvaceous redhead with a muscular
look about the shoulders - as if she did a lot of long-distance
swimming - knelt between Kim's legs. The redhead must
have realized that Kim was both achingly wide-open and
incredibly wet, and lost no time in slipping all four fingers
into the Andie's asshole. Soon, she was fisting Kim, fitting
all of her hand up to the wrist within the Andie's capacious
opening, and managing to keep up a fast reciprocating
movement that had Kim in paroxysms of pleasure.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 59


I was momentarily distracted by a movement in the
foliage on the opposite side of the clearing. There was
another face in the bushes on the other side, a man's face,
peering out and obviously engrossed in the performance. The
movement of the leaves suggested that he was masturbating
- just as I was, of course - while watching the energetic
group in the glade.
Just at that moment, Kim's screams got louder and more
frantic. I turned to watch appreciatively her gasping orgasm.
I could see her buck and thrash against the large black
breasts that cradled her head. Even from this distance, I
could tell that the sphincter muscles in her ass were
spasming violently around the other woman's wrist.
I came too, a willy-nilly, a few seconds later, rubbing my
clit with the juices from my own vagina, biting harder on my
lip to ensure I stayed silent. As the little orgasm rippled
though me, I sagged to the ground, unable to support the
squatting position any longer.
By the time I was in any kind of state to pay attention,
the other individual in the bushes had disappeared. It struck
me that there was something odd about the face, something
unusual. Finally, it occurred to me just what it was: the man
looked old.
Part 5
I made my way quietly back through the bushes to return
to my friends, who were now waking up, looking around
speculatively at the rest of the group.
It occurred to me that I had fucked everyone in the party
except Charlie and Bear - oh, and Steve, of course, although
I had enjoyed the latter's attentions on many previous
occasions. The three men clearly also realized this fact, and
they clustered around me as I lay back on my sun-lounger.
Charlie and Bear in particular seemed to want to explore
the unusual sexual opening in my chest, between my
breasts, and I would shortly have the pleasure of trying three
cocks, one after another, in that opening.
Steve was first in line, slipping his dick easily inside me,
but it was much too small to be satisfying, and I quickly
repositioned his cock in my mouth.

60 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


Bear was in second place, his huge member already hard
and eager, but was much too large, even with the extra
lubrication of someone's cum from someone else's vagina. I
moved him to the cunt between my legs where he would be
able to experience those preternaturally powerful muscles
my Kind have.
The last dick - Charlie's - was beautifully shaped. He
pressed it against my opening, slipping inside almost
immediately with a groan from him and a gasp from me. It
was just right.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 61


Volume 5 – Bend and Stretch
Part 1
I took my usual scheduled shift at the Club the following
day. This was the early shift, from three-pm to seven in the
evening and surprisingly popular - perfect for those who like
sex in the afternoon.
I had only been there a few minutes when a message
came for me: Lady Jane had requested my immediate
assistance in the Gym. Lady Jane is a long-term client of the
Chromium Shaft - staff gossip says she has been a Club
member for at least thirty years.
The same gossip says that Lady Jane had been a dancer
or gymnast at some point in the past - indeed, she may still
be, for all I know. I had often thought of dance, especially
ballet, as sexual energy diverted, twisted into art. Lady Jane
had acquired some particular requirements, certain urgent
needs which emerged infrequently, but seemed to be the
final release for that ensnared sexual tension.
For some reason I was entirely unsure about, she had
taken a liking to me just after I first took up this job, and
had now summoned me to provide her personal services, as
I have done many times in the past. I knew that she did not
like to be kept waiting, so I hurried down the corridor and
knocked politely on the door.
"Come."
The Gym was a medium-sized room, fitted out as an old-
fashioned dance studio rather than a sweat gym. It was a
high airy room, often lit, as it was now, by natural daylight
from roof-level skylights, so that it had brighter illumination
than in most of the other rooms at the Club. It was
equipped with a traditional hardwood floor, numerous
mirrors and a wooden rail firmly fixed to three of the walls.
I slipped inside, closing the door quietly behind me. Lady
Jane was already warming up, performing a series of

62 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


stretches and bends to flex her muscles. She is a slender
athletic woman with flat breasts and a haughty demeanor,
augmented by fine blonde hair bound up in some casual way,
and a slightly hatchet-faced look.
She was quite naked, except for a pair of black woolly
leg-warmers. The muscles in her thighs and back flexed
enticingly as she performed the splits - I can do that too -
but Lady Jane has astonishing bodily flexibility. As I
watched, she lifted one leg to near vertical whilst the other
foot was planted flat on the floor, offering me a clear view of
her shaved and perfect pussy.
I knew the drill by now, and moved over to one of the
mirrors which hid a storage closet. I slipped out of the
uniform clothes the Club provides - Lady Jane likes her
assistants to be as naked as her - then opened the closet.
Inside, on a shelf, lay Lady Jane's favorite machine - indeed,
the only one she ever used, at least at this club. When inert,
it was a black shell, curved and shaped like a seat for a doll.
As I picked it up, it was already warming and writhing
slightly as the automation sensed the need.
Lady Jane stood still, arms raised above her head in a
pose, and looked at me.
"OK, I'm ready," she said finally.
I pressed the curve of the machine against her ass. It
reacted quickly as it recognized the cue, wrapping itself
seamlessly around her waist and thighs. I could see it
pressing itself against her anus and holding open the lips of
her vagina as it closed over her, eventually encasing her
almost entirely around the waist.
She stepped away in that controlled manner that dancers
have and continued her exercise routine. She bent
backwards into a crab, then rolled over and started making
sinuous cat-like movements on her hands and knees,
alternately raising her shoulders and her ass.
The smart machine started inserting itself into her asshole
and cunt, as it had been programmed, the rhythmic
movements just visible as Jane pranced and pirouetted
around the room. As she got hotter and wetter, the part of
the machine thrusting in her vagina started expanding
sideways, stretching her wide open. Despite herself, Lady

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 63


Jane cried aloud and again, breathing heavily, until she
reached the moment where her orgasm was almost
inevitable.
"Now, Tania," she commanded,
She lay back on an exercise mat and crossed her ankles
behind her head. The machine responded too, opening a
tiny hole in the black material so that her pink and swollen
clitoris was revealed. I knelt, gently licking her clit, watching
enviously as the machine continued to fuck her ass with
increasingly violent movements, while stretching her pussy
wide enough for deep penetration by a Satyr.
"Harder!" she gasped.
I complied, energetically tonguing her for the minute or
so before bringing her to the shuddering orgasm she had so
very much desired. As Lady Jane came, the machine sucked
itself out of her pussy in an eye-blink. This movement,
together with the contractions of the professionally powerful
muscles in her thighs and ass, jetted a quantity of her
intimate juices over my chin and breasts.
Lady Jane's screams went on for an impressively long
time. I knelt back and, on a whim, massaged my tits with
her cum, wiping down my chin with my hand to have juice
enough to lubricate the opening between them. Meanwhile
the machine gently disengaged itself from her and rolled to
one side. I stood up, then bent over to pick it up.
"Thank you Tania," Lady Jane breathed, eyelids still
fluttering, "You may go now."
Silently, I returned the machine to the closet, where the
PA would clean and ready the toy for the next user. I
collected my uniform, although I did not bother to put it back
on.
As I left the room, quietly closing the door behind me, I
realized that, as always, she had not touched me and I had
not touched her, except for my tongue on her clit.
Part 2
This was not the first time that Lady Jane had squirted
over me as she came. The exciting aroma of her juices filled
my nostrils and was, I suspected, already mingling with my

64 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


own increasing moistness. I had to do something about that,
right now.
I wandered through the maze of passageways and linked
rooms which made up the Club's lower floor until I reached
the wet area: a variety of pools and hot tubs, almost
everywhere running with water. The low light level, patchy
and flickering, added to the ambience, being chiefly
illuminated by what someone from the Dark Ages of the
Twentieth Century might have assumed were candles.
Everywhere one looked, sexy people were enjoying each
other's company, in two and threes and larger groups.
I found an unoccupied shower cubicle at the edge of the
area and slipped inside. It was the work of just a few
minutes to give myself a couple of willy-nillys. I stood in the
shower, water turned off, rubbing Lady Jane's juices into
both of my cunts with my fingertips. As I relished the smell
of her on my body, I wondered what it would be like to enjoy
more intimate moments with that blonde ice-queen.
As I masturbated furiously, I sagged to the stall floor,
opening my legs as wide as its confines would let me. My
heat first burst out from between my legs, spreading rapidly
upwards. it was only as the quivering of my second orgasm
subsided - from the vagina between my breasts - that I
realsied that I had been closely watched through the semi-
transparent door of the shower stall.
I grinned, waving at my unidentified admirer, beckoning
them - whoever they were - to join me. I could just make
out a sorry-looking shake of the head and then the observer
vanished into the dimness of the room.
Sighing, I turned on the water and showered off quickly,
before drying myself in the hot air from the built-in blower.
Stepping out of the stall, I slipped back into my uniform.
The shortest of miniskirts and the sleeveless bolero jacket
had little to do with covering me up; it was more as a means
of identifying members of the Club staff.
As I dressed, I could see two slender men kissing
luxuriously while immersed in the bubbling water of a nearby
hot tub. One was sitting on some submerged ledge or seat,
while the other stood, legs braced, bending over to hold his
friend gently on each side of the face.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 65


The Club runs the bubble jets in the tubs almost all the
time. I knew that stimulating impacts of the agitated water
was found to be pleasurable by many people, although it also
has the desirable side effect of allowing the automation to
move more quickly under water without being seen.
The couple in the hot tub was being assisted by another
Club employee I knew as Alan. He was only interested in
Norm men and Types with a distinctly male aspect, a
disability known technically, I'm told, as homosexuality.
Alan and I had had a conversation about this one quiet
evening. He agreed that being interested in only one sex
reduced his opportunity to encounter entertaining partners.
He knew this, intellectually, but insisted that there was
something ineradicable inside him which found the more
feminine forms much less attractive.
At first, I was surprised that Madame Maxine permitted
him to work here, but later I realized that most guests would
not even realize, or care, and that he really was very good at
understanding precisely what certain sections of the clientele
really wanted.
From the urgency with which the two men in the hot tub
continued to embrace one another, and the increasing
tensions visible in their bodies, it was clear that they were
enjoying more than just the taste of each other's lips.
Curious, I moved closer; looking below the waterline, I could
just make out the black shape of some complex machine -
possibly more than one - from the Club's arsenal was at
work.
It was difficult to make out exactly what was happening
through the roiling waters. As far as I could see, two dark
flexible tubes had fastened themselves over the cocks of
both men, presumably squeezing and stimulating each dick
in synchronization. A further black shape could just be
glimpsed under the sitting man's backside, no doubt a
throbbing butt-plug. The standing man was being fucked in
the ass by Alan.
As I watched, the two guests cried out, grasping each
other harder and achieving the simultaneous orgasm they
had wanted. Alan politely came too, joining in the fun to
everyone’s approval. Sometimes the old-fashioned ways are
the best, after all.

66 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


Part 3
Back to work. As I emerged from the wet room, I
happened upon a couple - a man and a woman - who were
inspecting a selection of penis extenders in a display cabinet.
The racks displayed a range of black cylinders of different
lengths and widths, featureless down the sides with one end
finished in a plain hemisphere and the other flattened, with a
tiny dimple in the center.
"Can I help you with those?" I asked brightly.
The woman, a short and curvaceous figure with jet-black
hair and white - almost translucent - skin, turned to face me.
"We're not sure which one to pick," she said.
Her partner was much taller than her, and a little on the
skinny side, I thought. He nodded his agreement with her
expressed sentiment, looking distinctly confused by the
choice available.
"You should follow the Golden Rule," I said, grinning, "The
Marquis Doll Rule of penis sizes."
"What's that?" the man asked.
"You always want a dick bigger than you think," I replied
mischievously, "Even when you take into account the
Marquis Doll Rule."
The woman laughed aloud.
"You're so right, honey," she said, adding, "It seems so
obvious when you explain it like that."
The man was grinning too. He selected a particular
cylinder from the rack and held it up for inspection.
"What do you think, Darlin'?"
"Looks perfect to me," she replied, "Why don't you bring
it over here."
I directed the two guests to a nearby private room,
figuring that they would want to take advantage of the
selected toy immediately. As they entered, they divested
themselves of their towels - I think they had themselves just
emerged from one of the pools in the wet room - and tossed
them aside. I could see that there was something hidden in

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 67


the woman's hand, although I could not make out exactly
what it was.
"Come over here, sweetie," she said seductively,
addressing her friend and indicating a soft leather-look
couch, "And make yourself comfortable."
She playfully pushed him down on on the seat, then
pounced on his rapidly hardening manhood, licking the head
energetically before plunging her mouth over his erection.
The man arched his back in pleasure, thrusting his pelvis
forward to keep his dick deep in her throat.
"Can I help, too?" I enquired politely after appreciatively
watching the cocksucker at work for a minute or two.
The woman stopped sucking his penis for long enough to
answer.
"Sure can, honey," she gasped, "I know he just loves it
when he gets thoroughly attended to."
I knelt beside her and helped the woman suck her
boyfriend's cock, alternately licking his balls and deep-
throating him, enjoying the sensation of its warm stiffness in
my mouth. This, of course, had the desired effort of getting
his hard and erect. It was nicely shaped but, speaking with
professional experience, not particularly large.
The penis extenders are another of the special features
the Club offers its members. Sensing the moment was right,
I picked up the toy the couple had selected earlier and
pressed the dimpled end over the end of the man's rigid dick.
The automation in the device awoke immediately and a
swirling movement of silver ran along its sides. The toy
opened up and slid over his erection, while the outer surface
immediately formed a faithful representation of the man's
dick in shape and color and texture, but now - to the visible
delight of the woman - several sizes larger.
"I need that inside me," she purred, running her hand
over his suddenly enlarged dick, "Right now."
She picked up the items that she had hidden in her hand
earlier and showed them to me.
"Perhaps you help us with these, too?" she suggested.

68 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


She was holding two sets of anal beads. One was in
Dayglo-pink plastic, soft and flexible. I gently took it from
her hands and examined it with interest; it seemed old and
was quite probably a genuine antique.
"This must be worth a fortune," I breathed, eyes
sparkling. I was thrilled to be handling something so very
old and valuable.
"It's a family heirloom," she explained coyly, seeing my
acute interest, "My father gave it to me one night long ago -
and very intimately, too."
I moved to return the precious sex toy to her, but she
demurred.
"I promised that one to him this evening."
The other set of beads were modern, made from the
same automation-infused pseudo-material as the penis
extenders. I reached for it, knowing what to expect. The
automation sensed me picking it up, started moving,
twitching, seeking an orifice to invade, and looking very
much like the tail of some warlike and reptilian alien. It was
another of the Club's more popular items, a prime example
of the Penetraz (TM) range.
"And I suppose you want this one, then?"
"Oh, yes," she replied, grinning wickedly at me.
With just a little encouragement, the woman knelt down
on the floor, pressing her tits and face into the soft surface
of the couch. She spread her legs wide, allowing me to hold
her ass cheeks apart. I licked her anus, forcing the tip of my
tongue inside her, before swinging my tongue down over her
clitoris a time or two. I slipped first one finger, then two,
into her cunt, then repeated the same digital penetration on
her anus.
I was closely watched by the man, who was wanking his
extended dick with much appreciation both of the toy itself
and the view of my fingers and tongue stretching both of the
woman's openings.
The automated beads were now writhing frantically,
exuding its own glistening lubrication. I pressed the tip
against the woman's anus, admiring the juxtaposition of her
white skin and the metallic silver-and-black of the

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 69


penetrator. The automation moved at lighting speed,
burying nearly its full length in her ass and causing her to cry
out with pleasure.
"Now, Darlin’, now," she called to the man.
He slipping his extended dink in her cunt, already moist
and open for him, pressing deep into her immediately and
making her cry out again. The automatic beads were pulsing
visibly, and I was sure he could feel their vibrations through
both her body and the penis extender.
I thoroughly moistened the inert beads in my mouth, then
eased them into the man's anus, moving skillfully - even if I
do say so myself - with his vigorous and rhythmic thrusts.
I knew I would not have long to wait. The woman was
already close to coming, the thrusting in her cunt and the
vibration in her ass driving her to paroxysms of pleasure.
The man too was working his way up to a huge orgasm. I
watched them closely, waiting for the moment, the first
flushes of their joint orgasm. As they screamed at their
loudest, I withdrew both sets of anal beads in a series of
jerks, vicariously enjoying their pleasure - and feeling just a
tiny bit frustrated myself.
Part 4
The Chromium Shaft Club is a fun place to work, exciting
and sexy most of the time, but it can also be both exhausting
and frustrating, watching and helping - often, in the most
intimate ways possible - other people getting their rocks off.
Unsurprisingly, by the time I get back to our little flat after a
four hour shift at the Club, I often feel more than a little
tense.
On this occasion, Renie was already home. She gave me
one long concerned look as I fell in at the door.
"I know just what you need," she said, holding my hands
and kissing me gently, "You go and take a nice shower, and
then I'll see what I can do to make you feel better."
I smiled wanly, appreciating Renie's kind thoughts. I
dropped my little purse in the corner, tossed the uniform
jacket and skirt at the wall - the automation made it
disappear as soon as my back was turned - and stepped into
the shower room.

70 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


When I returned to the main room ten minutes later,
showered and dried, my dear friend had re-arranged the
furniture - with a little help from the PA, of course. On a low
table to one side, there was a steaming glass of that meaty
drink that is my regular beverage. Next to it was a plate of
hot savories, my favorites, high in the fats and protein my
metabolism craves. In one smooth movement, I dropped my
towel and sat naked and cross-legged on the cushion that
Renie had placed before attacking the foodstuffs ravenously.
As I ate, I looked around at the other arrangements Renie
had made. The futon had been moved to the center of the
room, and a large and fluffy towel had been laid across it. A
little bottle of my favorite massage oil stood open to one
side. The room lights were down low and, sensing Renie's
subliminally expressed requirements, the automation had
provided gently flickering lighting at floor level around the
futon.
I demolished the snacks in record time - I do not usually
need to eat very much, but my antics at the Club had put an
edge on my appetite this evening. Renie had joined me at
the table, sitting on another cushion and sipping at one of
the herb-smelling infusions she enjoys. We chatted while
our drinks cooled. I told her something of my encounters at
the Club: Lady Jane squirting on me, the couple with the
antique anal toy, and my unidentified admirer outside my
shower cubicle.
Renie reciprocated with tales from her day-job at the local
Hair and Beauty Clinic: the dizzy brunette who made her
move a tattoo from one buttock to the other - "it's smoother
there," he insisted; the regular who wanted her pubic hair
trimmed into the shape of her boyfriend's cock - she had
brought in a 3D-photo of the item in question; and the Andie
who wanted her nipples enlarged and darkened. The chat,
interspersed with gossip about our mutual friends and
acquaintances, flowed until the hot drinks were cooled and
consumed.
Renie put her cup down meaningfully.
"Now, why don't you go and lie down over there?" she
asked, indicated the futon.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 71


I drained the last of my soup, then sprawled face-down
on the towel she had arranged. Renie knelt beside me,
arranging a pillow for my head. Then, she reached for the
bottle of scented oil, warming a little in the palms of her
hands. She was herself already naked - we rarely wear
clothes around the flat.
"Now relax, Honey," she said soothingly.
She straddled me, kneeling over the small of my back and
sitting back so that her ass cheeks pressed against mine.
She set to work, massaged my neck and shoulders with her
strong and capable hands. I groaned frequently as her
hands released the tension in my joints and muscles, as well
as enjoying the sensation of Renie's dickgirl cock and her
pussy lips running over the base of my spine.
She steadily worked her way down my back, pressing
firmly around each vertebra, and relentlessly seeking out and
pummeling any knotted muscles. Soon, though, he oiled
hands were running over my ass. I arched my back
appreciatively and spread my legs wider. Renie gently made
me lift up my middle so that she could arrange a second
cushion underneath. Now she could give the strong muscles
in my thighs a thorough work-over.
My groans and sighs grew louder as Renie teasingly
began to run her strong and slippery fingers between my
legs, over my anus and vagina. Finally she got both hands
on my cunt, which was where she knew I really wanted
them. Her oiled fingers slipped inside of me, sliding
smoothly in and out at a rate guaranteed to bring me off
quickly. With her other hand, she stimulated my clit at
exactly twice the rate.
I came hard, and long, screaming into the pillow under
my face while my muscles spasmed around Renie's fingers.
And then, seconds later, I was stretched out on the futon,
fast asleep.

72 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


Volume 6 – Jell-O and Cream
Part 1
The management of the Chromium Shaft Club frequently
arranges entertainments for the amusement of members and
their guests. The names of the acts and the kinds of
entertainment to be provided was part of the briefing given
to junior staff members - such as myself - on their arrival. I
suppose in the Dark Ages of the Twentieth Century such
information would have been transferred on paper, or by
some time-wasting personal meetings. Fortunately, the Club
used the modern approach, the information being conveyed
subliminally, by the automation, which as always feels -
afterwards - as if you had always known everything about it.
On this occasion, Maxine and Kitti had engaged a troupe
of performers known as the Busty Creamers: unusually, all
girls and - even more unusually - all of the same Kind, a type
known as Partons. Someone once told me that this Kind was
named after a famous singer and actress, back in historical
times, one who was renowned for her mass of blonde hair
and her fabulously large breasts.
Inevitably, then, all six of the bimbos had blonde hair - all
artfully curled and tousled - long slender legs and taut asses,
and the most immense boobs I had come across in a long
time. One of the design features of this Kind, apparently, is
the strengthening of the tendons which support their tits so
that, despite their size, their breasts are pert and bouncy
without any artificial support. I was also told that the
musculature in their shoulders and backs are enhanced to
support the extra unbalancing weight.
The area of the Club known as The Stage was set for the
Busty Creamers' performance. It was actually a circular
depression about fifteen meters across, set around with
tables and chairs. Banks of private booths and other more
luxurious accommodations were set further back in the

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 73


shadows, all fitted out in soft Letherz(TM) upholstery in
various dark colors.
The stage itself was brightly-lit and bare except for The
Vat, a circular tank of a transparent material, open at the top
and with walls low enough to be stepped over with only a
little difficulty. The Vat contained a gelatinous liquid colored
a pale shade of creamy-yellow, currently deep enough to
come up to one's ankles.
I was on hostess duty, circulating between the tables and
chairs, guiding members and guests to vacant seats, helping
them with their drinks and toys, and pausing only
occasionally to suck an errant cock or allow a curious
member to explore the cunt between my breasts.
Booming bouncy music sounded out announcing the start
of the show and the performers danced on waving to the
crowd who signaled their welcome enthusiastically with
applause, cheers and wolf-whistles. The Partons stepped
over the sides of the tank, their long legs making short work
of the vertical sides of The Vat. Each dancer was naked,
except for a ribbon in a fetching shade of pink. Some wore
the ribbon in their hair, others wore it as a necklace; one had
it tied around her waist and another around her upper thigh
like a garter.
The Busty Creamers launched into the elaborately
choreographed introduction to their performance, dancing
and prancing around with their feet splashing in the liquid,
waving and blowing kisses at the crowd, and bending
forward provocatively to allow their pendulous breasts to
swing free. The audience loved it, the decibel level of the
applause and shouting rising rapidly.
Their next steps formed the troupe into pairs, each
pressing their breasts together, the colors of their nipples a
startling contrast despite the similarity of their skin tone.
The girls then moved to straddle one another with their legs
apart, allowing their curvaceous asses and delightful public
mounds to be inspected closely by the nearer members of
the audience. The girls darted sensual and playful licks to
one another's bodies here and there: mouth and neck and
nipples and belly and labia were all targets for first modest
pecks and later wildly indulgent tongue-play.

74 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


The slime inside the vat was thoroughly infused with
automation. Mobile silver flecks began to appear suspended
within the translucent goop, and the material started to
writhe and form of its own volition. The girls started pushing
and shoving each other, throwing handfuls of the goop at
each other, like the snowball fights I remember from my
childhood what seems like hundreds of years ago.
The floor of The Vat must be quite slippery, as the Partons
began to slip and slide as they struggled to avoid the
projectiles of their fellow performers. Finally, the inevitable
happened: accompanied by a roar from the crowd, one of the
girls lost her balance, fell into the writhing fluid with a
tremendous splash. She sat up a few moments later,
grinning wildly and waving her arms to acknowledge the
audience reaction, removing the ribbon from her arm and
throwing it to the nearest likely-looking member of the
audience. The lucky recipient of this favor, a man in the
front row, looked delighted, and wrapped the ribbon around
his rock-hard dick to the general approval of his companions
and neighbors.
The rest of the troupe converged on the performer who
had just emerged from the goop. One of her colleagues
flipped her own ribbon from around her neck to bind the
ribbon-less girl's wrists. Another tipped her onto her back,
and together her partners drew her legs back so that her
knees were alongside her enormous breasts.
Now held firmly in place by the two girls, the fallen angel
was vigorously - even brutally - pleasured by the remainder
of the performers. The girls again scooped up handfuls of
the slime, which began to shape itself to form the implement
the holder wanted, the pervasive automation sensing the
subliminally-expressed need, as always, and reacting
accordingly.
One of the angel's assailants massaged her breasts with a
double handful, sticky and wet, which then hardened in an
instant to clamp hard on her nipples before flowing away.
Another formed the material into an oozing dong which she
slid with skill and passion into the angel's cunt. She fucked
her hard for a few moments, then the dildo collapsed to ooze
and flowed back into the tank. Undeterred, the Parton
repeated the process with a larger portion of the cream,

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 75


assisted by a second performer forming a second impromptu
dildo to fuck her in the ass.
The lucky girl at the center of all this attention was
already having her first orgasm; I imagined she would have
two or three more before her colleagues finally released her.
The act would, I knew, be repeated with variations until all
six girls had had lost their pink ribbons and been fucked
senseless, filled by the cream jelly in most every hole.
Part 2
While the performers were on stage, it was my role as an
assistant greeter to circulate around the booths and alcoves
to help members and their guests, to make sure they had
the drinks and snacks they desired or, more usually, to assist
with the toys and devices that the club maintained in such
abundance. Many of the audience were enthralled by the
Busty Creamers, watching fixedly or perhaps masturbating
along with the antics in The Vat. Others, equally turned-on,
clearly wanted to have sex with their friends and companions
while watching the Partons fuck each other on stage.
I came across a booth which was occupied by two women
who had clearly appropriated one of the Club's more popular
toys - a giant double-ended dildo which appeared to be made
from soft pink Jell-O. Like the liquid in the Vat, this toy was
obviously infused with automation, which was moving like
silvery sparkles inside the translucent material.
One lady, a slender redhead with pale skin and large
eyes, lay back on the banquette seating while her friend, a
muscular black woman with clipped dark hair and a
determined facial expression, knelt between her legs.
The dark-skinned woman was struggling with the dildo,
which appeared to have taken on a life of its own, writhing
this way and that, presumably confused by inconsistent
directions and desires from the ladies present.
"Hi there,” I offered, "You want me to help you with
that?"
Both ladies started slightly as I addressed them, but
relaxed immediately as they recognized the uniform - a
metallic silver miniskirt and matching sleeveless jacket
unfastened at the front - which marked me as a staff
member.

76 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


"I’ve just got to fuck with this one," purred the dark-
skinned woman in a deep and sexy voice which drove a
tingle down my spine - ending up between my legs, "Can you
get this thing sorted out for me?"
She handed me the dildo, which stilled itself immediately
in my grasp. I licked the end of the toy a few times, slipping
the authentically-shaped head into my mouth. The redhead
watched me sucking on the dildo with increasing interest, her
mouth opening instinctively as I pressed the dong into my
throat.
Meanwhile, the black woman started licking out her
friend, kneeling right down with her ass in the air, while
touching herself between the legs with one hand. Her red-
taloned finger stimulated her own clitoris with a brisk circular
movement, lubricated with juices from inside her intimate
opening. As I watched, the black woman's touch moved
more often to her cunt, fucking herself with first one and
then two fingers, the wetness glistening on the deep pink of
her labia.
Seeing my cue, I slipped the moistened dildo between
those moist pink lips, Holding the toy with both hands and
fucking her as hard as I could. The black woman was clearly
enjoying the sensation, intensifying her efforts on the
redhead's clit until she came, buckling and squealing in
pleasure.
I withdrew the toy as the black woman sat back on her
haunches.
"Now it's time for me to fuck you properly," she snarled to
her companion, taking the dildo from my hand.
She squatted down, knees wide apart, and pressed one
end of the dildo inside her. I could see the device expand
further and begin to vibrate excitingly. The toy then
suddenly expanded in the middle, initially forming a thin disk
which then split into strips which eased their way around the
black woman's waist and thighs, and turning itself into a
double-prong strap-on.
The automation within the toy swirled briefly, and then
the device took on the exact coloration of the woman's skin,
the sudden apparent naturalness of the dick contrasting with
the woman's firm rounded breasts and hard dark nipples.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 77


The redheaded woman gulped, seeing the tip of the toy
now curving upwards and pulsing slightly as if driven by an
excited heartbeat. Her companion pressed her artificial cock
to the moist opening she had been licking earlier. Then, in a
single smooth movement, the black woman slid the dick
deep inside her friend, eliciting a gasp and a cry of pleasure
from the redhead and her own grunt of satisfaction.
I discreetly departed, suspecting that the ladies would be
banging each other for hours. Another job well done!
Part 3
The next booth with filled to capacity by a noisy group of
shemales, who were sitting round a table and cheering on
the girls in The Vat with raucous cries and lewd - and
possibly anatomically impossible - suggestions. They looked
like they were having a good time without my assistance,
and I moved to pass by without stopping, but one of the
party called me over.
"Hi there," she said, then added to the accompaniment of
much giggling from her friends, "Can you get us a set of
ABC's?"
"Sure," I replied brightly, leaning forward to give her a
good view of the lips between my breasts, "One for
everybody?"
"Oh, yeah," one of her friends replied, "Including yourself.
Don't want anyone to feel left out."
I strode off, making sure the girls had a good look at my
mini-skirted ass. It took less than a minute to track down a
box of the toys they had specified - guided by the PA, of
course - and return to the booth.
I would soon discover that these girls were of the classic
shemale Kind, with dicks and balls - always carefully shaved
- rather than a Dickgirl like my dear friend and flatmate
Renie. To a person, they had narrow waists and slender legs
emphasized in most cases by the pleated miniskirt their Kind
so often favored - presumably because of the potentially
painful effects of a sudden erection in a tight-fitting garment
- and large boobs barely restrained by halter tops or tight-
fitting tee-shirts.

78 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


The girls had elaborate hairstyles, each quite different
from the others and in complete contrast to the near
uniformity of dress they had adopted. It was almost as if
this was the sole feature they wished to use to mark their
individuality.
By the time I returned, some of the girls had already
stripped off their skirts, or hitched them up around their
waists. Responding to an unspoken suggestion, the table in
the middle of the booth sank smoothly into the floor. There
was much fondling of breasts which were bouncing out of
their constraining clothing all around me. I allowed my
uniform jacket to fall open and slip to the floor, followed
shortly by my skirt.
Around me, the girls were licking each other's asses and
sucking each other's cocks. I joined in, sucking nipples and
penises as they came to hand. Hands and mouths were
exploring me too, squeezing my nipples hard, and licking
both my cunts and my ass with wonderful skill and abandon.
It was not long before all of the girls had rock-hard dicks
and moist anuses. Seeing my cue, I opened the box I had
retrieved earlier and drew out a set of synchronized anal
vibrators - known as Anal Buzz Cocks, in the jargon - little
black dildos infused with automation.
The woman who had called me over made me kneel in the
middle of the booth, where the table had been previously,
and the girls stood around me, asses towards my face,
cheek-to-cheek in a circle.
I made my way around the circle, separating the ass
cheeks with my fingers and licking each one - to appreciative
moans from the recipient and encouragement from the
others - before slipping a little black toy into each opening.
When I had finished, there was just one toy left, which I
sucked lavishly for a moment before slipping into my own
anus.
The girls reformed their circle, now with their dicks
inwards. Again, I made my way around the circle, sucking
one cock while wanking two others. As I did so, the butt-
plug inside me began to vibrate, its force and frequency
depending not only on my own level of stimulation, but also
on the degree of excitement from all the others in the group.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 79


Inevitably, the girls took to stroking their own cocks,
harder and harder, allowing me to first squeeze my own tits,
and then start to finger both of my cunts, again to general
appreciation. All the while, the vibration in my ass grew
stronger and stronger, and I could see the girls' dicks
straining and swelling under their increasingly energetic
masturbation.
It was not long, before we came, together as a group, the
girls exploding a huge quantity of cum over my face and tits,
their orgasms - and mine - synchronized by the ABCs
throbbing in our asses. The girls' joint ejaculation was the
most impressive display of shemale bukake I had seen in a
very long time.
More very satisfied customers, I would say.
Part 4
The shemales stood wanking the last of their cum over
my breasts, gasping and moaning raggedly with the force of
their joint orgasms. I opened my mouth wide, showing just
how much cum they had managed to get inside me, then
swallowed. I set about transferring the rest of their Dickgirl
ejaculations to my mouth, scooping up every last bit with my
fingers and licking them with great relish and savoring the
different tastes of the jizz that had been sprayed over me.
One by one the ladies sagged back on the banquette
seating, legs akimbo, dicks detumescent and their jiggling
breasts almost stilled, just rising and falling with their heavy
breathing. The dildos in their asses, and mine, quietly slid
out of their own volition - the automation at work again, of
course. I swept up the toys and returned them to the open
box, knowing that the PA would soon efficiently and silently
clean them.
"Well, thank you ladies," I said pertly, standing up and
surveying the group, "I trust you are enjoying the hospitality
of the Chromium Shaft Club?"
The round of satisfied muttering was music to my ears. I
grinned broadly, then made to leave.
I collected my uniform clothes and stepped away into the
deeper shadows between the booths. Once out of immediate
sight, I held out my arms and spread my legs, and closed my
eyes. The automation, sensing my need, moved as swiftly

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as always, cleaning my skin in a swirl of air and motion
around me, and leaving me feeling refreshed and ready for
duty.
I slipped back into my uniform and continued my
perambulations through the audience, around the tables and
between the tiers of banquettes, occasionally greeting a
member by name, or introducing myself to a first-time guest.
I approached a larger booth towards the back of the
auditorium, where I could just make out a woman lying
prone, eyes closed and motionless, on a table between the
banquette seating, and surrounded by silent and motionless
people. Up here, the view of the performance was limited,
and the music somewhat deadened, and the quietness of the
group contrasted alarmingly with the energetic and noisy
audience elsewhere.
As I got closer, I could see that the elegantly reclining
form was adorned with the kinds of food which are popular
here at the Club. Jell-O and cream decorated her body in
many places - her ample breasts, the soft skin of her thighs,
and the delicate swelling of her pubic mound - while pieces
of fruit and sweets, and more cream, were arranged
artistically around her body on the table itself. A chocolate
candy bar had been slipped partially into the woman’s
vagina, already excitingly warm and melting gently.
The people in the party themselves were naked, or nearly
so: casually worn, or discarded towels and miscellaneous
items littering the booth. They held drinks in their hands,
and every one of them appeared to be in a state of silent but
excited anticipation.
One figure, a large man with a preternaturally jolly
expression on his face, turned to me and held a finger to his
lips. I stopped dead, following his eyes as he turned his
head. Emerging from the darkness of the exit, a blindfolded
man was being guided up to the group by a woman. The
man was wearing a towel around his waist, and his
companion led him gently forward by the hand.
The woman bade him stop with a light pressure on his
arm. She then removed the blindfold in a single dramatic
movement, to a huge round of cheers and shouts from the
group, who as one raised up their glasses in a coordinated
toast to the new arrival. Simultaneously, the PA, no doubt

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 81


carefully programmed by someone here, provided sparkling
simmering lights in amongst the food, in a fashion that
someone from a historical era could have mistaken for
lighted candles.
The man's eyes widened as he took in the group of
friends, the decorated beauty arranged before him. On cue,
the prone woman opened her eyes and turned her head to
smile and the new arrival. The man's towel promptly fell off,
displaying his erect member to another round of cheering
from his friends.
"Surprise, Darling!" the woman said, "Happy Birthday!"

82 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


Volume 7 – Mom’s Home Cookin’

Part 1
Every now and then, I find myself answering the
question: How are Marquis Dolls created? This is usually in
one of those late-night conversations, after the initial bursts
of sexual desire have been slaked by several bouts of high-
energy fucking, and there is a pause for rest and
recuperation before a more leisured approach to sex
commences - one that I, at least, can keep up all night.
The conversation inevitably starts at the point where my
extra bits - the second sexual opening in my chest, between
my breasts, and the leather-like skin on my arm and legs.
My companion - or one of the male ones, at least - will then
comment on my flat and muscular stomach and, even more
so, on the strength of the internal muscles between my legs.
He will undoubtedly have appreciated this particular intimate
spot several times by now.
It amuses me to explain that I have strong muscles inside
me because I have nothing else - none of the female Norm's
reproductive organs, no womb, no ovaries. Clearly, we
cannot give birth ourselves, not having any of the necessary
biological equipment. And that's when The Question is
asked.
In fact, we Marquis Dolls are born to Norm mothers, or at
least were when births were still allowed without a special
license. So my mother is a Norm, of course. She had a lot
of money back then, and bought the genetic modifications
which make me, well, me, at a time when such changes were
fashionable. She tells me there was quite a fad for designer
babies in those days - "at the birth of modern medical
science," she says - and many women elected for radical
genetic variations for their offspring in the womb.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 83


I still see Mom on fairly frequent occasions, when I have
the money to travel; her business interests, not to mention
her immensely active social life, means that she's not often
able to visit me. She is an elegant and sexy lady, and
certainly manages to get all the lovers she wants.
Mom maintains a wide circle of friends and acquaintances,
and likes to entertain a great deal. Indeed, the orgies and
swinging parties she hosts occasionally make the high-
circulation subscriber blogs and society zines. She had
invited me to one of these glittering events, as she often
does, and on this occasion I had decided to attend.
My excuse - as if I really needed one - was that I still
have several trips left on that Metro pass I had acquired a
few days before, and the tickets were only valid until the end
of the month.
Part 2
Traveling to Mom’s apartment was a journey of an hour or
more but, as it turned out, I need not have worried about
getting bored.
On this occasion, I walked the few blocks from the little
apartment I share with Renie to the Metro station, enjoying
the coolness of the morning under the palm trees that lined
the street. From the clear sky and the weather forecast the
PA had flashed at me as I left, it looked like being a hot one
today.
The first part of the trip ran though the central
downtown area and the cars were quite crowded, with
standing room only as I got on. Several people got on after
me and it was hardly possible to turn around.
The doors had barely closed behind me when I felt my
fanny being touched by an anonymous hand. I could feel a
firm and urgent pressure running down over my ass,
lingering a long while on that narrow strip of soft flesh
between the hem of my skirt and the leather-look skin that
covers most of my legs.
I did not turn around or acknowledge the touch, other
than to arch my back slightly and ease my legs a little
further apart - as far as the press of the crowd in the train
would allow. Encouraged presumably by my reaction, the
hand made its urgent way upwards, now inside my skirt,

84 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


running over the very sensitive skin on the inside of my
thighs and gently caressing my outer lips. I barely stifled a
gasp, although it would probably have been virtually
inaudible against the noise of the Metro car. The involuntary
reaction to the touch made me push back against my
anonymous admirer, feeling that body's heat and pressure
right up against me.
The hand withdrew briefly - I thought it most likely to be
a woman's, judging by the size of her fingers and the long
nails that had been skittering over my skin - and returned a
second or two later, two fingertips now dampened, whether
by saliva or some other more intimate juices I knew not.
Within seconds, her fingertips were expertly running over my
clit, the length of the fingers themselves separating my
rapidly moistening lips and some other appendage - I think it
must have been the knuckle of her thumb - pressing firmly
against my anus.
The woman must have been touching herself with her
other hand - masturbating frantically, judging by the
increasingly urgent movements I could sense against me.
Her hands moved in synchronization, rapid desperate
movements against my need, and her own. I felt a jerk and
an explosive breath behind me as she came, an urgent
tightening of her body as the release caught her. It was
infectious; I came too, a willy-nilly that made me gasp again,
and again.
And not a moment too soon. The car came to a stop, the
doors opened and people spilled out onto the platform. As
the crush reduced, I turned just in time to catch a glance of
a redhead disappearing along the platform. She was a little
taller than me, dressed in high heels and a conservative grey
business suit - although that skirt was exceedingly short and
tight. I could have been wrong, but she might have glanced
back at me watching her through the Metro's windows.
Perhaps she made a habit of touching up strangers -
perhaps it was part of her morning ritual: a quickie on the
train, masturbating on her way to work to help her through
the day - or at least until coffee-break. I could imagine that
she had a friend or two who would help her out in some quiet
part of the office. I felt obscurely delighted that I was able

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 85


to help her this morning; maybe, I thought, I should take the
Metro more often.
Part 3
The departure of the anonymous redhead had left me as
horny as hell, practically dripping from both vaginas and
desperately needing a thorough and deeply penetrative
fucking. It is at times like this, I thought, when something
you really, really need has got to come along right now.
The Metro made its way steadily out of the city. After five
or six stops, the downtown crowd had thinned out and the
car became almost empty, the few other occupants
engrossed in their own affairs. I found myself sitting across
the aisle from a really gorgeous black man. He was ignoring
me, or at least seemed to be completely distracted, clearly
watching some entertainment or other projected directly
onto his eyes by some paid-for VAPAware service I did not
subscribe to.
Further along the car, a lone woman was masturbating
with a tiny hand-held device. Her head lay back against the
window, cushioned by her elaborately and artfully arranged
black hair. A silver band with the tell-tale glitter of
automation covered the upper part of her face, eyes and
ears and nose, no doubt projecting some high-quality and
immersive pornography to at least three of her senses.
She had thrown one of her stocking-clad legs - a
delightfully fashionable retro touch, I thought - up on the
banquette seating, the dark weave of the fish-net stockings
contrasting with the red leather-look uphostery. A glossy
black high-heeled shoe dangled from her raised foot, at risk
of falling at any moment.
The blindfolded woman had hiked up her skirt, taking
advantage of the side slit to spread her legs very wide apart.
She was holding her panties aside and spreading her pussy
lips - a delightful pink against the darkness of her skin - with
one elegantly manicured hand. She held the tiny toy in the
other. It was little more than a thin flim of automation over
her fingertips - I was only sure it was there at all because I
could see the silvery membrane stretched between her
fingers.

86 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


The device was twisting and vibrating visibly, adjusting
itself to her most intimate contours, as well as the
movement of her hand and the thrusts of her hips. Her full
breasts, still entirely constrained by the formal blouse and
jacket she wore, bounced in harmony with her increasingly
energetic movements. Her moans became louder and more
prolonged as she approached the second climax she had
achieved since I had started watching her. A few last jerks,
a final scream - she had made it. I nearly applauded in
appreciation and - to be entirely honest - increasing
frustration.
Her raised leg dropping to the floor as she relaxed, laying
back limply and breathing heavily, apparently sated - at least
for the moment, I thought wryly. The blindfold unfolded
itself at a touch and dropped into her hand. She secreted
this and the clitoral vibrator in her purse, then stood up as
the train slowed to a halt. Glancing neither to right nor left,
she stepped out of the car, head held high and a distinctly
satisfied look on her face.
Part 4
At the other end of the Metro car, another woman was
entertaining a Satyr. Satyrs are priapic, able to retain a vast
hard-on for hours at a time, and indeed likely to become
massively erect at the slightest provocation. I had come
across this kind many times in the past, always with exciting
and repeatedly satisfying results.
It was once explained to me by a Satyr that the reason
his kind never wore trousers, or even a kilt, and were
equipped long ago by thoughtful designers with a coat of
thick curly hair from the waist down, was that the effect of a
rapid and unexpected erection would otherwise be
immensely painful. He winced visibly when he mentioned
this, suggesting that personal experience had taught him an
uncomfortable lesson once upon a time.
This particular Satyr I had fucked so hard and for so long
that he was unable to continue for nearly twenty minutes - a
record in his experience, I was delighted to learn. Mind you,
it had taken me nearly two hours to reduce him to that state,
fucking him only with the opening between my legs - the one
between my breasts and my mouth being far too small to
take very much of his dick inside me. Satyrs do not have

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 87


orgasms like Norm men, and have neither semen nor
testicles, but can be worked up to a state of continued
ecstasy with a little hard work from both parties.
I got the impression that the shapely blonde with the pert
tits on the train had not enjoyed a true Satyr before. She
seemed surprised - and highly delighted, too - at both how
quickly he became hard and the size of his incredibly large
dick. She ran her hands - she needed both of them - over
the curve of his member and the dome of his helmet,
bending forward to run her tongue around the sensitive
crease at the base of his glans. As was my experience, it
was much too large to get even the head of his cock into her
mouth. Satyrs have no foreskin, but they are - again, from
my experience - very sensitive around the helmet, and I
could see him already shaking in ecstasy.
As I watched, the blonde woman suddenly stood upright,
firmly holding onto the handrail with one hand to maintain a
balance against the jerky ride of the Metro. He knelt in front
of her and lifted her skirt, before expertly performing oral
sex, as Satyrs almost always do: licking her out with a thick
strong tongue, penetrating her opening with its tip frequently
and powerfully, as well as moistening every part of her
pussy.
Satyrs have particularly thick saliva and his purpose,
clearly enough, was to get the woman as wet and open as he
could, with plenty of lubrication to help ease his massive
manhood inside her. The attention made the woman moan
almost immediately, throwing back her head and half-closing
her eyes as she enjoyed his tongue against her.
After a few minutes of this attention, the curvaceous
blonde clearly felt as ready as she was going to be. Glancing
again at the huge dick that reached to her waist, even
though the Satyr was still kneeling, she urged him to stand
before turning away. She bent at the waist, still with one
hand on the rail, pulled her skirt right up to her waist and
spread her legs wide. Understandably, I thought, the woman
had adopted a position where she could accommodate as
much of his manhood as possible.
The Satyr needed no further encouragement. I could see
his saliva glistening on her pussy lips, her other hand was
already touching herself, stimulating her clitoris with a rapid

88 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


circular movement. He began to rub the head of his dick up
and down over her opening, stopping now and again as if
poised to enter her.
The blonde turned her head to address her urgent lover.
I could not hear the words over the noise of the train, but
her lips moved as if to say, "Now, fuck me now."
He pressed forward, her lips opened and an astonishing
length of his member slid inside her. She cried out, loud
enough to be heard across the car. To my surprise, the
Satyr hesitated, and I could see as he withdrew slightly from
that first thrust that there was blood flowing down the
Satyr's cock.
"Don't stop!" I heard her cry over the rattle of the car,
"It's all right. I like it to hurt a little."
I realized that she must be a Madonna, one who was able
to restore her hymen, her notional virginity, within hours of a
bout of penetrative vaginal sex. I am not sure whether this
was a genetic feature - something her mother had specified
before her birth - or was a paid-for, optional part of the
medical features of the PA, the ones that keep us all young
and healthy forever.
Taking her at her word, the Satyr thrust back into her,
rapidly working his way to that regular and exciting rhythm
that I knew his kind could keep up for hours.
"Fuck me, fuck me now," she cried again, louder this
time, "Open me up, make me bleed, make me come."
Part 5
I was watching the blonde and the Satyr so closely that I
had nearly forgotten about the attractive man sitting nearly
opposite me. Some movement caught the corner of my eye
and, as I turned my head, I saw him looking at me
speculatively, his eyes roaming up and down my body,
frankly appreciating my legs and thighs under my short skirt.
I caught his eye and nodded, delighted to have caught his
attention at last. To make my point, I uncrossed my legs
and laid back just a little on the seating, as well as lowering
the zipper on my jacket enough to show plenty of cleavage
and the top of my second vagina. He needing no further
urging, and moved over to sit next to me.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 89


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

"Hell, yes," I smirked, "In fact, I could do with a lot of


company, a whole helluva lot, in one or two places right
now."
He chuckled, then said in the same liquid tones, "So
exactly where would you like that company, darlin'?"
In answer, I completely undid the zipper on my jacket
and guided his mouth downwards between my breasts.
"Well, right here would be a good place to start."
He got the message quickly enough. He moved to kneel
on the floor of the car and licked me vigorously, if not
particularly expertly. At first, he reached up with both hands
to caress my breasts, holding my firm nipples between finger
and thumb, or rolling them against his own cheekbones.
Wanting more, one of his hands moved to explore
between my legs, tentatively at first, as if unsure if he would
find a cunt there too, and then more enthusiastically,
perhaps delighted to find me already so wet. He probably
had not seen me being finger-fucked by the redheaded
businesswoman earlier.
I wanted more, too. I urged him to stand, bending
forward provocatively as I reach to undo his fly. I could tell
immediately I would have to undress him more; he was
already so hard, and so big, that it would be impossible to
get his dick out without extreme discomfort.
Laughing, he reached for his belt and tugged down his
pants and shorts. I knelt, just to get a taste of him right
away, the movements of my mouth and tongue over his cock
assisted unpredictably by the shake and rattle of the Metro.
His dick grew larger under my ministrations, to the point
where I could get only a small portion of its length in my
mouth, then to my surprise, his cock shrank a little, just
enough for him to force almost all of it down my throat.
As far as I could tell, the man was a Norm, although
through - I strongly suspected - long practice, he was able to
exert some conscious control over the size - both the length
and girth - of his cock.

90 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


I positioned myself where I could look up at him as he
slipped his dick into the wet opening in my chest, now just a
little smaller than its maximum girth, I judged, as well as
taking in the excitement of the couple fucking and screaming
at the end of the car.
Holding my shoulders, he thrust into me again and again,
fucking me vigorously, even violently, my tits slapping loudly
on his muscular thighs.
"You're good, girl," he said, almost snarling, "Very good.
But are you as good at the other end?"
Obligingly, I stood up and bent right over, my short skirt
riding up to show him my pussy lips.
"Yes," he grunted, his dick briskly parting the lips of my
other vagina. I am naturally more accommodating between
the legs, and he must have sensed this, his dick growing
large again to fill much more of that intimate passage.
In this position, we could both see the blonde and the
Satyr at the other end of the car. The black man's dick grew
larger again as the Madonna worked her way up to a second
shattering, screaming orgasm. I came too, just seconds
before the man inside me shot his load - something I very
much like sometimes - filling one of my most intimate
cavities with sweet sticky cum.
Part 6
The black man I had just fucked left the Metro at the
same stop as me, although it appeared he had to head in the
opposite direction. I kissed him farewell, full on the lips - so
he could taste his own pre-cum in my mouth - and ran a last
appreciative hand over his cute ass. I was definitely right, I
considered, sometimes I do get what I really need - and I
really will have to ride the Metro more often.
From the rail station, I walked the handful of blocks to
Mom's apartment building with a spring in my step. The sun
was high and hot - an expression which could have applied
to me right now, too.
Mom has a spacious loft on the third and top floor of an
antique red-brick building in the outskirts. It was originally
constructed as some kind of workshop, I think, from the days

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 91


when people actually made things with their hands, and was
now carefully preserved and maintained.
Mom's apartment consisted of a large open living space,
with traditional separate bedrooms and two bathrooms. I
could have lived with her - indeed, I have done from time to
time over the last few decades - but I see more of my own
friends when I have a place of my own. Her apartment was
also equipped with an extensive range of automation, much
of it more sophisticated and expensive than anything I could
afford.
As I walked in - the automation recognizing me
immediately - I was confronted by a bronzed and muscular
man wearing a blue-and-white striped apron - and nothing
else. He was cooking the old-fashioned way, handling the
skillet and spatula with practiced ease. My Mother is old-
fashioned enough - and rich enough - to maintain a kitchen
in her apartment, rather than relying on made-to-order
synthetic food from the PA.
"Hi," he said brightly, "You must be Tania. Your Mother's
taking a shower. Can I cook you something?"
I was hungry after all my exertions and I gratefully
accepted a three-egg omelet - real eggs, they must have
cost a fortune - which I wolfed down as soon as the plate
was put in front of me. As I ate, I glanced appreciatively at
his toned ass and broad shoulders. I was quite sure that the
skillful and well-equipped man was looking after my mother's
Inner Woman in more ways than one. And, judging by the
way he caught my eye and smiled, I would be enjoying more
of his skills real soon now.
Mom emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a large
white towel, although her hair was already quite dry and
exquisitely coiffured by the VAPAware services. She
welcomed me with a huge smile, and I hugged her close for
a long moment.
Mom and I are close and enjoy each others' company
when we can, and she likes to make sure my needs are
catered for. And, of course, I like to satisfy her
requirements, too.
"Come and sit with me on the couch," she suggested,
leading me by the hand.

92 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


I sank into the low leather sofa, lying back against the
soft cushions, watching while Mom tossed aside her towel.
She knelt on the floor and tugged up my short skirt while I
spread my legs wide, before running an expert tongue over
the lips of my vagina, sensing the moistness there.
"You've been having a little fun on the way here," she
said, grinning up at me wickedly.
I nodded, unable to make any sound other than a gasp of
excitement as Mom slipped two fingers inside my opening
and began to rub their tips against my G-spot.
"He sure tastes good to me," he added, before returning
her mouth to my clit.
"He did, Mom," I managed to gasp, "He sure did."
Part 7
After a bout of me and Mom licking and fingering,
luxuriating in the familiar taste and texture of each other's
body, we collapsed together on the couch, Mom's head in my
lap. I had enjoyed a couple of little orgasms - willy nillies -
and Mom had come twice, too.
Lying together, Mom enquired after my life, asking how I
was enjoying working at the club. She had used a little of
her influence to get me interviewed for the position - well,
tried out might be a better way of putting it. But the
assessment had been a success, after all - the interviewers
had appreciated my abilities and every one of my intimate
openings.
"It's great, Mom," I replied, "Everyone's really friendly,
and it sure helps to pay the bills."
"That's good, dear," she said, adding with a note of
concern, "But don't let them overwork you."
"I won't, Mom," I reassured her.
Our sex play had been watched closely, if slightly
surreptitiously, by the bronzed man in the apron, although
he was careful to continue with his kitchen duties. As we
chatted, Mom nodded in the direction of the kitchen.
"He's new, isn't he?" I asked.
Mom smiled.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 93


"He is. I thought you might appreciate him," she replied,
sitting up, "Let me call him over."
Gary - that was his name - turned out to be a Seal.
Otherwise close to Normal, he had a large and muscular
tongue able to easily lick the tip of his own nose, as he
demonstrated as he emerged from the kitchen area, still
wearing his apron. The name, by the way, is supposed to be
some kind of pun, referring to a physically strong and active
man who is also an accomplished eater of oysters.
The bronzed Adonis undid his apron and let it fall - or at
least tried to. He had to stop to unhook it from the rock-
hard member I had already spotted underneath the cloth.
Now completely naked, he came over to stand next to Mom
on the couch. Mom could not help herself. She leaned over
to take the head of his cock in her mouth, just a couple of
hard thrusts which made Gary cry out.
Grinning, I stood up, unzipping my jacket and tossing it
and the skirt behind the couch. I knelt to join Mom sucking
his cock, taking it in turns for a few minutes until the man
seemed ready to explode over our faces.
"Not just yet, Gary," Mom said teasingly, "Tania wants to
feel that wonderful tongue of yours."
Obediently, he knelt down on the floor while I lay back on
the couch. His hands had already started caressing my tits,
taking each nipple firmly between thumb and forefinger.
Leaning forward, he ran his tongue repeatedly between my
breasts, seeking out the soft lips and enticing opening I have
there. His tongue was surprisingly hard and quite rough,
and now curved nearly back on itself to form a hollow tube.
It was clearly his pleasure - and mine too, of course - to
enter me with this most unusual member.
Mom watched in delight as Gary's tongue fucked me. She
was close beside me now, eyes bright, one hand exploring
between my legs and three fingers of the other fucking her
own cunt. It was exhilarating, and I realized that I was
going to come - and come really hard - with this man's
tongue inside me.
With a cry, I made it. My muscles spasmed suddenly,
jerking Gary's tongue almost completely out of the cunt in

94 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


my chest. I could the sudden powerful tension around
Mom's fingers in the vagina between my legs.
"Well done, Gary," Mom said in a hoarse whisper, "Now
it's my turn."
With little urging, Gary lay down on the floor. Mom
straddled him, taking his cock - harder than ever, it seemed
- deeply into her. She rode him with a rhythmical
movement, one I suspected she had practiced many times
before, forcing his cock against just the right places inside
her.
Watching Mom work her way up to a powerful orgasm, I
wondered about straddling Gary's face, although I suspected
that his rough tongue would be almost too much for my
already highly-stimulated clit.
Mom came, as hard as I had just done, arching herself
backwards and shuddering visibly. After a few moments, she
lifted herself up as I watched, delighted to see that Gary's
manhood was as hard now as it was before Mom had fucked
him. A few beads of moisture - Mom's pussy juices - had
formed on his helmet and I leaned forward to lick them off,
savoring once again her most intimate flavors.
"Go on," Mom said, "I know you need this."
I squatted over Gary, using the strong muscles in my legs
to control my descent, to ease slowly - oh, so slowly - over
Gary's dick. The combined lubrication of all of today' lovers
gave a delicious smoothness to the motion. And then, up
again, and down. And again, and again, just a little faster
each time.
Mom did the same over Gary's tongue, facing me. We
moved together, in synchronization. Our movements
allowed me to kiss her passionately a couple of times to
enjoy the various tastes which were already mingling in our
mouths. Our hands reached out to each other, cupping one
another’s breasts and squeezing hard on the other's nipples.
I could feel myself ready to come again, and I could tell
that Gary would be ready to spurt very soon. I was just
entering that moment of elation as another powerful orgasm
swept over me when I Mom say, "Come inside her, Gary.
You've deserved it."

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 95


My contractions drove him over the edge and he filled me
with sweet sticky cum.
"Way to go, Mom!" I gasped, as soon as I could speak,
"What a find!"

96 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


Volume 8 – Party Glitter
Part 1
My mother had bought me a party dress. a low-cut one-
piece, the Little Black Dress that every woman is traditionally
supposed to have. It fitted itself to my body perfectly, the
automation in the fabric adjusting to cling to my curves like
the finest black silk. I adjusted it to display a lot of
cleavage, the PA reacting instantly to my directions, flowing
deep between my breasts to show just the tiniest hint at the
deep red lips positioned between my tits. The PA also
dressed my hair, something I can rarely be bothered to do
for myself, curling it into an artfully tousled mass on my
head.
Mom also presented me with a leather choker necklace,
the color almost identical to the naturally dark and strong
skin on my lower legs and feet, where a Norm would wear
shoes or boots. The choker was set with brilliant-cut white
stones which were probably Diaminz™ - artificial diamonds,
although without the flaws and imperfections of the real
thing.
The necklace was accompanied by matching ankle straps
and bracelets, which made it look as if I was wearing real
shoes and gloves, and earrings which molded themselves to
my lobes in a moment.
I felt like a million dollars, although in truth the whole
outfit probably cost only a tenth of that. Mom herself put the
final touches to the fit of my garment before licking me on
the lips just made visible between my breasts.
"There," she said, standing back approvingly, "Everyone
in the room will be wanting you now."
While we had been dressing, the apartment automation
had been busy, re-arranging the furniture and setting out
plates for snacks and glasses for drinks. As her guests
arrived, the PA would fill them on demand, knowing - or at

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 97


least predicting with astonishing precision - each guest's
preference at that time and place, based on a lifetime's
intensive observation and insight.
Mom and I emerged from the bedroom together, just as
the first of her guests appeared at the doorway. Gary had
also changed for the occasion, now wearing a stiff white
collar and black bow tie, together with formal cuffs set with
glittering stones. Otherwise, his torso was bare, providing a
perfect opportunity for him to show off his oiled and rippling
muscles. It was a classic look, and one he was able to carry
off to perfection; he was quite an attraction, or perhaps
distraction, as he welcomed the guests and directed them to
the drinks and buffet.
Mon took her place close to the entrance, greeting those
people she knew with a kiss and embrace, and those she did
not similarly - although once or twice I detected an embrace
with more than a little lingering passion as a particularly
interesting personage passed through.
The automation in Mom's apartment is really something
special. Even now, she is able to afford several fairly
expensive value-added services which she utilizes to the full
for the frequent parties and social events she hosts. As the
room filled with people, and the buzz of conversation and the
crush of warm bodies increased, the apartment became
correspondingly alive with the magic of the VAPAware.
The walls of the room, normally dull and unmoving, were
now alight with soft glows and scarcely-glimpsed blurs of
movement. The PA constantly monitors the direction of
one's gaze, tracking the movement of the eyeballs and the
direction of one's attention so that, when the automation
moves to perform whatever function is requested or
required, it is always out of direct sight.
In an empty room, of course, the PA works with minimum
hindrance and this is when non-urgent background tasks,
like cleaning, are performed. Similarly, if one sits quietly,
reading a static book (how fashionably archaic!) or watching
some old-style flat-screen entertainment, the motion of the
automation is barely perceptible.
In a room full of alert active people, on the other hand,
the PA has to work very much harder to remain unseen. At
the party, the air continuously blurred with movement, only

98 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


sensed subliminally, in the corners of the eye, accompanied
by a faint buzz and hiss, occasionally audible over the music
and the chatter, as the automation rushes to attend to
everyone's wants and needs.
I suppose this rush of barely glimpsed movement might
have been confusing, perhaps, to one who had never
experienced it, but it has been so much a part of my
everyday life for so long that it becomes easy enough to
ignore. It’s just a part of the world.
Part 2
The dress code for Mom's parties - and for many other
social events in her circle, I'm told - demands exquisite
elegance and at least some clothing. Mom does not approve
of unadorned nudity at her soirees, although the
interpretation of "clothing" can be very broad, to say the
least.
For example, the statuesque black woman adorned with
matching nipple tassels, gloves and long boots was
considered entirely acceptable. So was the white-blonde ice
fairy with silver body paint and lacy wings held in place with
white Letherz (TM) straps around shoulders, waist and
thighs. The wings could actually make her fly, at least for a
few moments - she would demonstrate several times during
the party - thanks to some fairly elaborate and probably
quite expensive VAPAware.
A very debonair satyr entered the room and immediately
greeted by Mom. The thick curly hair which covers his Kind
from waist to ankle was neatly coiffed and set about with
jewels, offset by a formal white shirt, black jacket and bow
tie, polished black shoes and a burgundy cummerbund
demarcating the line between Norm skin and hairy coat.
After welcoming the satyr effusively - probably an old
friend, I imagined - Mom introduced him to a curvaceous
woman with a mass of dark ringlets on her head and a
patrician's nose, who was classically dressed in a white toga
and smoking a long brown cigarillo. She eyed the satyr
speculatively, clearly impressed by his urbane elegance - or
perhaps the immense penis which could just be made out
nestling in that dark fur. I thought I caught a glint in Mom's
eye as she whispered a remark in the other woman's ear.
The satyr affected not to notice, but extended a formal elbow

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 99


and escorted the Greek goddess towards a couch in a far
corner of the room.
The goddess had arrived with a friend also adopting an
Olympian appearance. He was also wearing a white toga
and simple sandals, set off by a mane of white hair and a
long beard. He had a deep and commanding voice which I
could make out across the room, even over the buzz of
conversation.
Mom had introduced this god-like figure to a woman
wearing a long coat of Reel Fur(TM) fastened with a single
loop at the front - the mock fabric two shades lighter than
her auburn hair - and teeteringly high and strappy shoes. It
was abundantly clear that she wore nothing else underneath
the coat, and the curve of her breasts and her smooth pubic
mound were highlighted by tiny jewels which glowed with
intermittent illumination. I could see that her intimate
lighting was keyed to her emotional reactions, through the
agency of some VAPAware, no doubt, judging by the way the
lights flashed brightly just after the Olympiad whispered
some exciting suggestion in her ear.
Next to arrive was a man of medium height and build,
with well-trimmed dark hair graying slightly at the temples.
He was wearing a tailored dressing gown and smoking a
pipe. I suspected he was of a Kind known as a Hefner -
otherwise close to Norm, he would have insatiable sexual
desires which made him very popular in certain circles, since
he would be capable of energetic and prolonged sexual
activity.
I had heard gossip that said that Hefners were at risk of
being driven to a frenzy of frustration unless they had sex
every few hours. This seemed unlikely to be a problem here,
since Mom's guest was surrounded by three clinging and
giggling women, all dressed in the fashionably archaic style
of bunnies - complete with floppy ears and fluffy tails - all
held in place by the automation, it seemed, since they were
otherwise naked.
The room had been filling steadily was the guests made
their appearance. Here were a pair of tiny women -
evidently athletes and gymnasts - who looked as if they
might be of Chinese origins. There, a trio of elegant women
in long and stylish dresses, the skirts slit to the waist and

100 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


deeply plunging necklines which barely concealed their pert
tits. Yet another woman wore a short one-piece dress,
strapless and cutaway both front and back - I could not
imagine that the garment could possibly stay in place without
the full-time intervention of the PA.
Mingling amongst the guests were a number of bloggers
and journalists - those who wrote in a journal every day for
their own - and others - amusement. They were easily
identified by the slightly distant appearance - preferring to
observe rather then to interact - and their tendency of
murmur observations into hidden recording machinery. The
presence of these commentators is always a plus for a social
event - while anyone could find out endless details through
the PA, these professionals added insight, wit and editing
skills for the consumption by a much wider readership.
There was a sense of energy in the air, the electric buzz
of conversation at risk of drowning out the music (managed
of course by the automation) as the alcoholic drinks and
other stimulants in circulation raised voices and reduced
inhibitions. It was, truly, a wonderful party, with the guests
circulating - greeting and chatting, flirting and petting - and
all underlain by the subliminal motion of the automation,
making sure glasses were filled, cigarettes were lit and that
scraps and debris were removed instantaneously.
It looked like being an event to remember.
Part 3
I watched Mom at work for a few minutes, the perfect
hostess: the life and soul of the party. She appeared to
recognize almost everyone who arrived, as well she might -
it was her event, after all - although I thought I caught the
momentary distraction of the PA flashing a reminder or
confirmation at her.
By contrast, I knew almost nobody in the room. Not that
this bothered me overmuch - I am quite adept at making
new acquaintances. Right now, I could tell I was attracting
the attentions of a slender man dressed as if for old-style
yachting in an blue blazer with brass buttons, white trousers
and a cravat. I caught his eye and smiled, and he hurried
over. I always like an enthusiastic reaction in a man.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 101


"Hello, sailor," I said with conscious irony, "What brings
you into port today?"
"Ahoy, ma'am," he replied with a wide grin, keeping up
the nautical theme, "Coming ashore to meet the natives."
The sailor man had perhaps the most beautiful eyes I had
seem in a long time, large and dark and ringed with the most
delightful lashes. Under the tie and blazer, the man's torso
was naked; I could see he had put a lot of effort into building
up his abs and pecs. The thin material of the white trousers
was stretched tight over the man's legs and tush, as well as
highlighting the curves and bulges of his package. He looked
to me like a man who liked to make an effort - something I
always appreciate.
"Fancy a glass of grog, shipmate?" he enquired, clearly
flattered by the looks I was giving him.
"Aye, Aye, Capt'n," I responded, slipping my arm through
his and guiding him towards the drinks area where two
glasses of rum and water were already waiting for us.
Mom always likes to arrange a few entertainments for her
guests, and it seemed that one of these performances was
about to start. At the sound of drums, the lighting in the
large room changed suddenly, plunging much of the room
into dear-darkness while leaving a central open area brightly
lit. Dramatic music struck up, and the athletic Chinese
women I had noted earlier, now completely naked and their
bodies’ slick with oil, bounded into the lit arena.
Everyone turned to watch. We were treated to a virtuoso
display of sexual gymnastics, the two girls displaying
incredible bodily flexibility. As the music banged and
clashed, the two women slipped and rolled over each other,
their bodies sliding together in a blur of artistic movement.
As they spun and danced, they managed to pass mouth over
nipple, and finger over pussy, then toe over clit, and mouth
over anus, again and again, no two movements alike and
always precise and perfectly controlled.
At the culmination of their act, they formed a near-perfect
circle, one arched forward and the other backwards, each
with their mouths pressed to the others pussy lips. They
circled the room like a cartwheel, then flexed and re-formed
their circle in reverse, this time each with the fingers of one

102 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


hand inside the others vagina. They spun again, fingering
each other to a throbbing orgasm synchronized to a
crescendo in the music - and very probably the simultaneous
orgasms of at least three members of the audience.
The Chinese performers bounced up, then held hands and
took a bow to tumultuous applause. The girls were clearly
still in a state of intense physical and sexual excitement,
breathing deeply and perspiring freely. They kissed each
other warmly, licking each other’s mouths eagerly, then
bounded off in the direction of the kitchen - whether to get a
drink of water or fuck each other senseless I was not entirely
sure.
"The natives are friendly, hereabouts, then?" the sailor
enquired of me.
We had standing close together during the performance,
fascinated by the movements of the dancers. We had not
been entirely distracted by the act, though - he had been
caressing my ass under the fabric of my little black dress,
and i had been responding in kind through the thin material
of his trousers.
"Oh, very friendly," I agreed, "Look at these locals,
f'instance."
A group had formed around the Greek Goddess and her
friendly satyr, now sitting together on a couch that the
automation had earlier moved to the side of the room. The
satyr had evidently been excited by the ladies' performance
and now was sporting the immense erection typical of his
Kind. The Goddess had clearly decided that this was too
good an opportunity to waste, and was now licking and
sucking his cock - even though she was unable to get more
than the very tip of this dick in her mouth.
As we watched, the curvaceous woman slipped out of her
white toga and bent forward over the padded arm of the
couch, guiding the immense cock towards the soft folds
between her legs. The satyr entered her slowly, necessarily
gently given the size of his penis, although the goddess soon
pressed herself back onto him, urging him deeper inside her.
The satyr started a series of smooth and deep and powerful
thrusts - the kind he could keep it up all day - accompanied
by an increasingly loud series of cries and moans from the

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 103


shapely woman. I was sure she would achieve the first of
several orgasms very soon.
Evidently even more excited now, my sailor-man
squeezed my ass more firmly. In response, I arched my
back and pressed myself towards him, opening my legs and
allowing him to sample with his fingertips my moist - oh, so
wet! - opening. I ran my hand over the bulge now straining
the fabric of the man's trousers, which split and folded away
at my touch - no doubt some feature of the PA sensing both
his, and my, urgent need. I grasped his cock, a particularly
shapely example, appreciating its hardness and upturned
curvature which would, I knew, reach a great many
immensely sensitive places deep inside me.
The sailor swung me around and pressed me down over
the other end of the couch, my face close to the goddess's -
her eyes now closed and screaming as her orgasm ripped
through her. Without further fuss, he positioned his
delightful manhood over my pussy lips, then slipped into my
wet and welcoming opening. I was fucked hard, even
violently, by the sailor, his cock plunging into me again and
again with fierce abandon.
The curvaceous woman facing me opened her eyes, which
widened as she realized what she was seeing. Now panting
together with excitement, our eyes locked and our lovers
synchronized their thrusts; my first screaming orgasm
coincided, as it so often does, with the Goddess's second
cumming.
Part 4
The party was already in full swing - definitely swinging! -
when I first caught sight of the man I would know as Dragon.
He appeared inside the apartment door, a tall suntanned
man of medium build whose trimmed steel-grey hair was
swept back from his forehead and set off by a black silk
Kimono decorated with entwined red dragons in the classical
Chinese style. I immediately noticed that he had a strange
air of cool determination about him, a man clearly used to
being in control of his own destiny.
His companion was a slender woman whose skin was the
most delightful caramel color. Her dark hair was clipped
very short, and dark lashes and heavily made-up eyes were
set in a small and exceptionally pretty face enhanced with

104 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


red lipstick - which immediately made me lick my own lips
appreciatively. She was decked out in high-heeled strappy
shoes, and elaborate straps and buckles - all dotted with
Diamintz (TM) - around waist and breasts and thighs, which
emphasized rather than concealed her tits and pussy.
Around her neck she wore a studded collar, again decorated
with sparkling gems, with an attached lead whose handle
was casually held by the Kimono'd man. She looked like
someone's elaborately cared-for and very expensive pet.
Mom rushed over to greet the newcomers, reaching up to
kiss the man warmly on the lips, her hand behind his head to
encourage him to respond. He responded in kind, cupping
her ass with one hand and pressing her firmly against him.
His slave stood demurely behind him, face downcast -
although I could see her eyes flitting to and fro checking out
the other guests.
Disentangling herself, Mom beckoned me over and
introduced me in the rather formal way she sometime affects
at her parties.
"Tania, this is Brandon O'Reilly."
"Call me Dragon," the man said in a deep voice, shaking
my hand in that delightfully old-fashioned way, "Everyone
does."
"Pleased to meet you. And who's your friend?" I asked,
nodding at the slender girl behind him.
Dragon tugged delicately on the leash that he held in his
left hand. The slave-girl took two steps forward, still looking
at the floor.
"This is Lyanne."
The girl looked up suddenly, catching my eye with the
most incredible expression of pure lust I had come across in
a long time.
"Now I need to have a long chat with my dear old friend,"
Mom interjected, she and Dragon affecting not to notice the
other woman's reaction and putting her arm around the
man’s waist, "Why don't you go play with Lyanne?"
"Good idea," Dragon agreed, casually handing me the
handle of the leash. He and Mom turned away and
wandered off in the direction of the drinks glasses, two of

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 105


which had filled themselves automatically the instant I
glanced away.
Lyanne seemed slightly bemused by the noise and bustle
of the party and I wondered if she was a little shy, despite
the directness of her come-on look a few moments before.
She seemed curious about my arms and legs, reaching out to
touch the soft dark leather that forms my skin over those
parts.
I looked around. No-one seemed to be paying any
attention to us, intent on their own conversations and
flirtations.
"Let's go in here," I suggested, indicating the bedroom
doorway.
She swallowed, nodded and followed me inside the room.
I had barely closed the door behind us when I felt urgent
hands on my breasts. I turned, leaning back on the closed
door, and she kissed me firmly, holding my head in both her
hands and exploring my mouth with an intensity I found to
be immensely exciting. I could not help but press my mouth
back against her, kissing her and licking her mouth with
increasing abandon.
"Turn me loose," she begged, pulling away momentarily,
"Let me run wild!"
I unclipped the leash, an action which had no practical
impact whatsoever but was clearly part of the role she had
imposed upon herself. No sooner had I let the leash fall to
the floor then she pounced upon me, kissing me on the lips
again and again, exploring the most intimate recesses of my
mouth with her tongue.
Her attention moved lower down my body, first, to my
neck - licking and nibbling that sensitive spot just below my
ear - then further down to my breasts. She slipped the little
black dress from my shoulders and allowed it to fall,
unnoticed, to the floor.
She was clearly exciting my by nakedness and attacked
my breasts with renewed enthusiasm, massaging my boobs
with both hands and sucking hard on first one, and then the
other nipple with an intensity that made me cry out.
Perhaps for the first time, she noticed the vagina my Kind

106 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


had set between my breasts. She drew back, looking up at
me with an expression of incredulity.
"What kind are you?" she breathed.
"I'm a Marquis Doll", I replied, guiding one of her hands
between my legs, "We have two cunts, for twice the fun."
"Wow," she replied, grinning, "Pity I've only the one
mouth. But a girl's gotta do her best, hasn't she?"
Mow completely unleashed, Lyanne forced me down onto
the bed with a strength I would not have expected from
someone her size. She licked frantically at the opening
between my tits while simultaneously fingering the vagina
between my legs. I lay back, spreading my legs and
enjoying the sensation of an urgent and energetic lover hard
at work on some of my most sexually sensitive places.
Feeling that she was firmly in charge, Lyanne swiveled
around, pinning me to the bed with her knees over my
shoulders. She wiggled her exceptionally cute ass
provocatively, just too far away for me to be able to reach
her clitoris with my tongue.
"You wanna taste me?" she growled, "Cos I wanna taste
you."
She plunged her head between my legs, extravagantly
licking my cunt and ass, returning again and again to my clit,
now standing firm and proud and incredibly sensitive under
her onslaught. She must have know I was about to come;
my moans and cries must have made that clear enough. I
bucked and screamed as her relentless stimulation brought
me to a shattering climax, held and controlled by Lyanne's
weight on me.
"Oh," she laughed, "You do like it, don't you? Let’s see
what you can do for me, then."
She pressed her pussy over my face, enveloping me in
her sweet, warm, delightfully sensuous flesh.
I knew I'd like this party.
Part 5
Lyanne and I lay together in a tangle of limbs and bodies
on the large firm futon that I had shared with Mom on many
occasions, temporarily exhausted by our efforts to satisfy

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 107


each other and sharing the warm tingle of multiple orgasms
still rippling though us. Suddenly, Lyanne stiffened slightly,
presumably as some message from the automation was
brought to her attention.
"Gotta go," she announced, bouncing up from the bed,
"Dragon's calling."
She gripped my hand and helped me up from the futon. I
swept up my dress from where it had fallen and slipped it
over my head, relying on the automation to repair any
damage to makeup or hairstyle caused by our energetic love-
making.
"It's been real fun," Lyanne said, adding with a lusty
smile, "Let's do it again sometime very soon."
I nodded in response, grinning naughtily, then picked up
the leash and swiftly re-attached it to her collar.
We emerged from the bedroom to see Mom and Dragon
standing by the door, still deep in conversation. I held the
end of the leash in my hand and led the now compliant pet-
girl over to them.
"Now it's time for me to leave," Brandon said to Mom,
seeing us approach, "Thanks for the invitation. I've enjoyed
it."
He kissed Mom again, the unashamed affection of old
friends unexpectedly re-acquainted. I handed the leash back
to him and he moved towards the apartment door.
"On, I should have said; I may need to get in touch with
you," Dragon said evenly, suddenly turning back to me
almost as an afterthought, "I have a little job for you - one
where your talents will be perfect for my needs."
He handed me a card, a small stiff rectangle alert with the
glitter of automation. The PA recognized me immediately
and flashing up a welter of information almost too fast to
follow. I realized it was a dossier containing a fair degree of
detailed information about me, and a lesser degree on
Dragon himself. Before I could do more than blink, the card
dissolved into nothingness as if it had never existed.
"Of course, if you're not busy right now, why not come
home with me?" Dragon asked, still speaking in what I would
come to learn as characteristically slow and even tones.

108 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


Mom was nodding, encouraging me to take up this most
unexpected offer. Lyanne, too, grinned widely, encouraging
me - I could tell she would like to have an opportunity for a
repeat performance. I looked deep into Brandon's eyes for a
moment, seeing a need I thought I recognized - one I was
quite adept at satisfying.
"OK, why not?" I responded, nodding and grinning openly.
"Excellent," he said, "Ready to go?"
It took but a moment or two for me to locate and collect
my purse. Then, Dragon held the door open for me,
ushering me forward before following himself, Lyanne trailing
along behind in her accustomed position. I glanced back to
wave farewell to Mom. I could see that she was looking
gleeful, even satisfied, as if some planned, expected
outcome had finally been achieved - although I was entirely
unsure just what that might be.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 109


Volume 9 – Dungeons and Dragons

Part 1
I swept down the wide staircase of Mom's apartment
building arm-in-arm with Dragon in an old-fashioned formal
pose made incongruous by Lyanne in her slave-girl outfit
trailing behind us. Dragon held her leash casually in his
other hand, guiding her with occasional tugs and nudges.
We passed though the outer door onto the street. It was
already dark, although the smart street-lighting made it easy
to see in any direction I cared to look. I had expected a trip
on the Metro - this was my usual way of getting around for
distances too far to walk. Instead, as we reached the edge
of the pavement, a long low black car drew up, stopping
silently a meter or so away from us. It had the external
appearance of a stretch limo from the Internal Combustion
Era - so many people are deeply attracted to retro design
these days - although this one was evidently a modern
reproduction.
The rear door opened automatically as we approached.
"Here, take this," Dragon said, handing me Lyanne's
leash. He gathered up the voluminous folds of his Kimono
and made his way inside, settling himself in the center of one
of the two luxuriously upholstered banks of seats set facing
each other in the interior.
I motioned Lyanne to get in the car. She knelt gracefully,
making her way though the open door on hands and knees -
incidentally allowing me a close and very appreciative
inspection of her cute ass. I followed closely, making my
way to the opposite row of seats. The door closed with a soft
click, and the car slid into motion, the automation firmly in
control.
Dragon sat back, an expectant look on his face. Lyanne
was kneeling on the carpet between Dragon and me, facing
in my direction with her eyes still downcast, while I held her

110 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


leash in my hand. I quickly realized what was expected: he
had given his pet to me, at least for the moment, and she
was mine to do with what I would. I grinned lustfully and
glanced at Dragon, who nodded in acknowledgment, a wry
grin now playing over his features.
I held the leash handle between my teeth for a moment
while I wriggled out of the pretty little black evening dress
that Mom had given me - it would only be getting in the way
just at the moment - and tossed it casually towards the
seating at the other end of the limo.
"Come here, girlfriend," I purred, pulling firmly on the
leash to draw Lyanne's head into my lap, pressing her cheek
against my thigh. I stroked her hair, smoothing it away from
her ear, then nibbled playfully at her lobe.
"I think I need you to lick me again, honey," I whispered,
nipping her earlobe hard enough to make her squeak with
surprise, "But this time, you'll do it right."
"Yes, Mistress," she replied, glancing up at me with that
same astonishingly direct and wanton look.
On a whim, I decided that there would be no penetrative
sex just now - not even fingers - and I would make Lyanne
bring me to a climax just using her tongue. I kept Lyanne's
leash attached to her collar, using it to guide her mouth
exactly as I required.
First, I directed her to my breasts. Sensing my need, she
licked me like a cat, an impression enhanced by her sinuous
movements and kneeling position, running her tongue
lavishly over every part of by tits. I made her return again
and again to my nipples, pressing them into her mouth and
jerking repeatedly at the leash until she sucked satisfactorily
firmly on them.
Now, I like my nipples sucked hard, and I was taking this
opportunity to delight in the sensation of attention to my
breasts without the distraction of being touched elsewhere.
Even so, the intensely pleasurable feelings made me want
more, and I was rapidly getting damply excited in several
places. The second cunt between my breasts, the one
unique - as far as I knew - to my Kind, was by now really
very wet and a few drops of my intimate moisture began to
bead on Lyanne's throat.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 111


Groaning with pleasure, I dragged Lyanne closer, holding
onto the leather straps which bound her breasts and pressing
her mouth against my second opening. Again, she licked me
with abandon, immense cat-like strokes along the entire
length of my lips, evidently relishing the taste of my juices.
Sometimes, I can come just by having these lips stimulated -
there's no clitoris associated with that opening - but I
decided I would require her attention lower down.
I pulled on Lyanne's hair, forcing her roughly onto her
back. I slid off the seat, squatting over her and alternately
pressing cunt and ass against her face. Her tongue was soon
hard at work over the folds of my vulva and the tight 'O' of
my anus, her saliva and my own juices mingling to lubricate
me extravagantly.
While Lyanne gave the area between my legs the
attention I deserved, I glanced over at Dragon. Even though
the bulky Kimono, I could make out that he had a massive
erection - indeed, he must have maintained a hard-on during
the entire performance. Even so, he sat quietly, watching
out antics alertly, but making no move to either join in or
touch himself.
By now, I was ready to come, and I knew how I wanted
it. I sat again on the car seat, legs wide apart, and tugged
Lyanne's leash to bring her to a kneeling position again. I
drew her forward and down, pressing her mouth firmly
against my clit. Again, she responded with laudable
enthusiasm and I was soon brought to a shattering climax,
crying out in pleasure and release, and my head banging
against the seat-back, while still steadying Lyanne's head
with both hands.
The car drew slowly to a stop.
"We're made it," Dragon announced, "Let's go indoors."
He was so right, I thought. Oh, yes. After that licking
out, what I really, really needed was to be fucked long, and
hard, and so very, very deep.
Part 2
It was surprisingly difficult to make out any details of
exactly where we were. Over the decades, I had become
used to the efficient outdoor lighting provided by the PA,
always enough to see adequately in the direction of one's

112 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


gaze, but without wasteful use of energy to illuminate places
which no-one was actually looking at.
As I stepped from the car, following Dragon who was
leading Lyanne on her leash, all I could see ahead of us was
a doorway in deep shadow, relieved only by a single light
source. Dense foliage on either side formed effective hedges
- nothing to be seen there. Behind me, the car itself stood
on some dark roadway and it was impossible to see anything
beyond the vehicle itself.
The door itself was a classic, a work of art: a vast stone
archway more than three meters high at the apex, filled with
a solid and brooding door in some dark wood, studded at
intervals with black metal reinforcements. The door swung
open silently as we approached, showing a dimly-lit stone
passageway beyond. We entered, and the door closed
behind us with a solid thunk.
"Welcome," Dragon said solemnly, "To my lair."
Again, he held out a formal elbow for me to take, which I
did. Lyanne looked eager and moved on ahead, tugging at
her leash. Dragon smiled indulgently and let himself be
drawn forward by her enthusiasm. Kimono rustling, we
followed Lyanne down a flight of wide stone stairs.
The corridor opened out into some vast open space. The
room was dark all around, obviously underground, and so
large that it was not easy to judge exactly how big it actually
was. There was pool of light some way off, which Lyanne led
us towards, still tugging keenly at her leash.
A heavy table, formed from the same dark wood as the
door, stood in the center of the source-less illumination. Its
surface was dotted with metal chains and buckles and
leather restraints, although I had little time to study them in
any detail.
Lyanne crawled up onto the bench, again suddenly cat-
like, and lay back, her eyes alight with anticipation and
immense sexual appetite.
"Bind her," Dragon instructed softly.
I did as he said, fastening the restraints around her
ankles and wrists so that Lyanne was lying spread-eagled on
the wooden bench.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 113


Dragon produced a small tube from somewhere and
handed it to me.
"My favorite lubrication," he said, "Use it to fuck her for
me."
I unscrewed the lid and squeezed a little of the oil it
contained onto my fingertips and sniffed it. I immediately
recognized the scent viscerally, although it took me a
moment to realize consciously what it was. The massage oil
smelt of semen - a particularly fine example, in my educated
opinion. In a flash of insight, I guessed that the lubrication's
perfume - although probably synthetic - was derived from
Dragon's own cum.
I nodded appreciatively and drizzled a copious quantity of
the oil over Lyanne's pussy lips. She twitched and gasped as
the coolness of the oil struck her skin. I oozed more oil on
my fingers, then rubbed them over her generously lubricated
folds, separating her lips and teasingly toying with her
around her opening.
She moaned at my touch, louder as I stimulated the area
just around her cunt. She was clearly ready for me, horny
after the warm-up sex at the party and no doubt just a little
frustrated after the one-sided sexual encounter in the car.
I quickly slid two of my oiled fingers right into her, and
was rewarded by a cry of delight and excitement. I started
moving my fingers in a circular movement, stimulating the
sensitive areas just inside her opening. Her cries got louder,
and her pussy got wetter, her own juices mingling freely with
the lubrication Dragon had supplied.
I fucked her harder now, forcing my fingers into her and
withdrawing them again and again. Sensing her need, I
used three and four fingers to open her wider, my hand
thrusting again and again against her hot thighs as my
fingers intimately explored her vagina.
I was beginning to appreciate just how incredibly flexible
and sexually accommodating Lyanne actually was. She was
quite possibly the most sexually capable Norm woman I had
come across in ages.

114 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


"Lyanne should take up a much more, shall we say,
accommodating position for us, don't you think?" Dragon
suggested to me.
He pulled on one of several chains that hung down,
presumably supported in some fashion from the unseen
ceiling. The shackles that bound her ankles moved in some
complex way, drawing Lyanne's ankles back towards her
head and leaving her dripping cunt and shapely ass entirely
exposed for our pleasure.
"Remember, you're not to come," Dragon breathed in her
ear, "Not until you've been given permission."
She nodded, then said, "Yes, Master."
He was incredibly wet and open now, and I was soon able
to slip my entire hand inside Lyanne's gaping vagina. She
clearly wanted more, reveling in the intensity of the sexual
sensations as I fucked as hard as I could.
It was an intense experience for me, too, fisting this
willing and capable slave-slut while knowing all the time that,
actually, it was me who wanted to be penetrated, fucked,
abused, just like this. I felt myself putting all my physical
tension, my own sexual frustration, into the force, the
violence, with which I was thrusting my whole hand and
most of my lower arm inside this slender girl.
Dragon stepped forward, bending down so that his face
was close to Lyanne's.
"Very good, my girl, very good" he said softly, barely
audible over her pants and moans, "I think you're ready."
Dragon deftly unclipped the leash from Lyanne's collar.
She came immediately, instantly reaching an incredible
climax - one which must have been building for the last hour
or more - and bucking hard against the restraints and
shackles which bound her wrists and ankles. Her orgasm
must have lasted for at least a minute, and Lyanne screamed
loudly for the entire time, interrupted only when she drew
breath to scream again.
I wanted - no, I so needed to come like that.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 115


Part 3
Now that Lyanne was again off the leash, her whole
demeanor and body language changed. She struggled
violently against the straps and chains that bound her in
place, growling inarticulately all the while. Dragon pulled at
another of the dangling chains and Lyanne's ankles were
lowered, forcing her once again to lie spread-eagled on the
heavy wooden bench.
"She's going to be an absolute tiger now," Dragon said to
me, "Are you ready for that?"
"Oh, yes," I assured him, "I think she knows what I
want."
The flash of pure lust from Lyanne's eyes told me I had
guessed correctly.
I started on the task of unbuckling her restraints, starting
with her ankles. As the straps came loose, her movements
became more energetic, twisting this way and that. I took a
step back. Together, Dragon and I unfastened the buckles
that restrained her wrists. They flew loose simultaneously.
In a single movement, Lyanne swung off the table and
pounced on me, kissing me wetly and forcing her tongue
deep into my throat. She gripped my breasts hard with both
hands, forcing them together, and twisted the nipples so
firmly that they grew redder immediately.
With surprising strength, she gripped me around the
throat, under the chin, and brought her face close to mine.
"I know what you want, bitch," She hissed into my ear,
"Do I have to make you beg for it?"
I shook my head, unable to speak. She bit me hard on the
earlobe, my way of acknowledgement, then swung me down
onto the table top she had been occupying only a few
moments before. Still gripping me firmly, she forced me
face-down on the hard wooden surface. I lay flat, my
breasts flattened against the cool boards, the moisture
marks created by Lyanne now being joined by my own
intimate fluids.
"Stay still," she commanded, "Don't move until I tell you
to."

116 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


I obeyed. Lyanne swiftly fastened the restraining straps
around my wrists, then moved to repeat the operation on my
ankles, roughly dragging my legs apart to attach the chains.
She then must have reached up and pulled yet another of
the suspended chains that Dragon had used - I had already
suspected that she had been here before - which forced me
into a kneeling position, legs wide apart and my ass up in the
air. I could barely move; I felt exposed and vunerable, and
tingling unbearably with sexual excitement. I so wanted to
be stimulated, penetrated, fucked hard, but by what or
whom I didn't care much right now.
I could see Lyanne picking up the tube of cum-flavored
lubrication I had used on her earlier. She squeezed some of
the contents onto her fingers and started to smear it onto
my face.
"You're a little cum-swallower, aren't you?" she purred in
my ear.
I nodded, as best I could. It was true - I've lost count of
the times that my breakfast has consisted entirely of those
high-protein ejaculations of my night-time companions. I
made an attempt to lick the tasty oil from my face, where
she had marked me. She growled, and forced two fingers
down my throat.
"You little slut," she said, "You're going to get everything
tonight."
Lyanne started rubbing the lubrication over my ass,
sliding a slippery finger first into my anus - that always
makes me excited - and then into my cunt. She must have
started using both hands on me, stretching my opening
wider and forcing her fingers into my vagina. She knew
what I craved, and it was not long before she had her entire
hand in side me. I could feel her thumb and fingers pressing
against my inner lips.
Slowly, and then with increasing force, Lyanne began to
fuck me with her fist. I rocked back and forth, moving
involuntarily with the pressure between my legs. No doubt I
as moaning aloud, although I cannot now honestly say how
much noise I was making. My entire focus, my very being,
was now concentrated on the waves of pleasure from
between my legs.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 117


Lyanne's energetic pounding was having the intended
effect, and I was wide open and ready for the final orgasmic
thrust. Sensing my reaction, she forced her hand further
inside me, my stretched and tingling vagina so very
stimulated by the brutal penetration.
But just when I was verging on a climax, she suddenly
withdrew her arm - the bitch! - and I must have cried out
instinctively. She can't leave me in this state, can she?
Fortunately, I did not have to wait long. A few seconds
later, her warm and wet hand was sliding over my ass again,
reaching for me, entering me. I cried with relief as she
resumed the fucking motions, again penetrating me so very
deeply.
Now fisting me furiously, Lyanne brought me to orgasm
after orgasm. I must have come three times in the space of
ninety seconds, each release more extended and more
powerful than the one before. I could feel my muscles,
stretched as they were by Lyanne's arm inside me, spasm
and contract powerfully, gripping her hand yet more firmly
and setting me off on another bout of exultant cries.
The entire performance had been watched closely by
Dragon, who now caught Lyanne's eye and nodded in
approval.
"Well," he drawled, "It's seems you girls can be a whole
load of fun."
Finally, it seemed that Dragon wanted to join in.
Part 4
I had begun to wonder whether Dragon would join in the
sexy fun at all. Of course, I have encountered men - and
women, and plenty of other Kinds too - who are voyeurs:
who prefer to watch other people having sex and enjoy
vicariously rather than participate themselves.
Even so, I had realized that Dragon had been rigidly erect
for much, perhaps most of the last hour or more; indeed, I
had noticed while I was fucking Lyanne earlier that there had
been distinct twitching movements visible beneath the black
and scarlet kimono he still wore.
Dragon pulled a chain and released me from the kneeling
position. Lyanne bent over me, moving to release the

118 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


restraints around my ankles and wrists. I rolled over on the
bench, now lying face-up, and looked into Lyanne's face.
She kissed me passionately, luxuriously, her taut nipples
brushing over my breasts - still immensely sensitive and
tingling.
Lyanne seemed to sense what was that I felt: that, even
after the numerous orgasms I had experienced during the
evening, I was not yet fully satisfied. Sometimes, have lots
of energetic and fulfilling sex makes me want even more of
the same - I guess this is one of the reasons I am such a
horny little slut, I suppose!
Dragon watched us kissing for a few moments, then
turned away; as he did so, another pool of light appeared a
few meters further into the cavernous underground space.
Centered in the circle of illumination was an immense black
couch, no doubt upholstered in a expensive grade of
Leatherz(TM).
Dragon sat himself in the center of the couch, and looked
over at Lyanne and me with an expectantly lustful look on
his face. Lyanne gave me her hand and swung me off the
bench, steadying me as I stood. We indulged in another
long kiss then, as one, we turned to Dragon and walked
slowly, enticingly, towards him, each of us with an arm
around the others waist.
I seemed to have inherited some of the cat-like
characteristics that Lyanne displayed earlier. We girls knelt
together, crawling over the couch and Dragon himself on
hands and knees, running our hands over the smooth black
silk of his clothing.
Lyanne and I opened the Kimono with a flourish. I
gasped, glancing at Lyanne who grinned wickedly back at
him. Dragon had an incredibly huge penis, larger even than
that of any of the Satyrs I have encountered at various times
in the past. It was as big as Lyanne's hand and forearm
together, beautifully proportioned and rigidly erect.
I was fascinated, and excited, and just a little alarmed, by
the mammoth appendage in front of me. Lyanne had clearly
had this experience before and knew what to expect.
"I know you want some of that," she whispered in my ear,
"And since you've been such a good girl, you can go first."

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 119


I began to understand why Dragon habitually wore a
Kimono, and also why he wanted us girls loosened up or at
least to be assured that we were capable of accommodating
his length and girth. I felt myself grow even more excited,
oozing just a little of my own wetness from the opening
between my breasts, trickling down over my belly. Dragon
reached out a finger to gather up the drop of moisture,
licking his fingertip appreciatively while holding by eyes with
a long stare.
There was no way either of us could get any part of his
dick in our mouths, but Lyanne knew of a way we could
provide him with oral stimulation. While Dragon sat, Lyanne
showed me how to press our opened mouths either side of
his glans, like goldfish kissing, moving our mouths in
synchronization up and down the length of his penis. Dragon
groaned, evidently enjoying the touch, his cock twitching
involuntarily as we licked and sucked on him.
He was definitely a long stayer, seeming intent on
enjoying both Lyanne and me by turns. At first, Lyanne
licked his balls while I squatted over him on the couch. I sat
on his dick, guiding it deeply inside me, penetrating me as
far as I could possibly manage. I could feel the muscles in
my thighs quivering as I moved myself up and down on him,
eventually reaching orgasm, coming hard around him, the
muscles inside me twitching and spasming around his dick as
I screamed aloud.
Lyanne took my place, repeating my performance with
swift powerful thrusts and an expression of exquisite
intensity on her face. Then it was my turn again, quickly
reaching yet another orgasm, if anything even more powerful
than the one a few minutes before.
Our efforts were successful: Dragon finally came, Lyanne
using her hands to jerk him off while I knelt still quivering
from the aftershocks. He sprayed a huge quantity of hot
sticky cum over my face, and Lyanne's too, accompanied by
a vast cry, a wail of such intensity that thought he was going
to pass out there and then.
I remember nothing after that explosive orgasm. I think I
must have collapsed with exhaustion, too worn out even to
lick up my portion of the delightful cream bath I had just
received.

120 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


Volume 10 – Light and Dark

Part 1
I awoke with sunlight in my eyes and the smell of clean
sheets in my nostrils. I was lying on a large futon, on my
own, naked and curled into the comfortable semi-fetal
position I usually adopt when sleeping alone. I was covered
by a thin white duvet - I am always warm in bed and rarely
need much insulation - which emitted the comforting aroma
of well-washed cotton. All this was presumably arranged for
my benefit by the PA after I had collapsed exhausted by my
exertions last night.
I lay blinking in the daylight for a few moments, taking
stock of my situation and remembering, with increasing
appreciation, last night's sexual antics. I touched myself on
the lips, between my breasts and ran a finger over the lips of
my vagina, reliving exactly how I had been quite literally
fucked senseless by Dragon and Lyanne.
I was not in the least sore or sticky, of course, having
been thoroughly cleaned up by the PA while I was asleep -
the water showers that I prefer to take are more for the
pleasurable sensations than essential for cleanliness.
I sat up, allowing the coverlet to fall to my lap. Still half-
asleep and slightly mussy-headed, I dozily appreciated for a
few seconds the contrast between the darkness of my
nipples and the dark leathery skin around my middle against
the pure white bedspread.
I shook my head to clear it and looked about me. There
was no-one around; presumably the house's other occupants
were still asleep, or at least engaged in activities which were
not making their presence obvious. The futon I had slept on
was set to one side of the living area, tucked into an area
where the ceiling came almost down to head-height, a
location presumably selected by the PA to give me a sense of
comfort and security.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 121


Throwing off the coverlet, I stood up and wandered
around to take a closer look at Dragon's residence. I could
now see that Dragon's house was on at least two levels, the
lower area which contained the dark dungeon we had
experienced last night and this area where I had slept.
This upper floor was split into a surprising number of
sublevels, joined by steps, sloping floors and even short
spiral staircases. These were all approximately at ground
level, with soaring white pillars supporting a high ceiling.
The walls were uniformly white and decorated with numerous
monumental paintings, most executed in bold styles with
bright, even garish colorings.
Large windows spanning floor to ceiling let in masses of
natural daylight, allowing one to appreciate the sunrise -
although that event had occurred several hours before, I
judged. The light wood floors were dotted with rugs,
couches and pedestals supporting massive carvings,
installations and artworks too numerous to mention.
This was clearly the home of a serious, or at least
wealthy, art collector, and it was all such a contrast to the
dark dungeon below. Dragon, it seemed, was a man of
many passions and tastes.
"Good morning."
Dragon's deep voice made me jump slightly. He had
emerged from a doorway leading to a room off the main
living area - some kind of study or workroom, I assumed.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked solicitously.
He was once again wearing a Kimono, this one all in white
with silver-grey dragons embroidered on the sleeves. He
looked unruffled and suave, presumably having received the
attentions of the automation earlier.
Lyanne arrived through another door, delightfully naked -
as I was - and still stretching, also looking as if she had slept
well. He had that "dragged-though-a-hedge-backwards"
hairstyle typical of one who has been very thoroughly fucked
the previous night.
"I feel great," I said in reply to Dragon's question.
Actually, I had slept very well - the deep sleep of the
physically exhausted and profoundly sexually satisfied. Now,

122 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


I felt wide awake, bursting with energy. I wanted to run,
jump, turn somersaults, anything but stand around.
It seemed that Dragon and Lyanne felt the same;
Brandon swiftly slid open the glass door to the decking
outside, letting in the fresh smell of the morning. Outside,
an expanse of clipped green lawns spread out ahead of us,
with a couple of visible paths that appeared to lead down to
a swimming pool and spa area. The whole space was
bounded with hedges and trees giving a degree of notional
privacy which was unusual in my experience. Once again, I
realized just how wealthy Dragon must be.
"Let's go swim!" Lyanne squealed, suddenly child-like in
her enthusiasm.
She ran down the lawns, naked and barefoot, and
plunged into the pool with a splash and a lot more shrieking.
Laughing, Dragon and I followed more sedately, following the
steps that edged the lawn, the stones already warming in the
sunshine.
Part 2
By the time we had arrived on the paving around the
pool, Lyanne had already completed a couple of lengths at a
fast swimmer's crawl that she looked to be able to keep up
all day. Seeing us strolling up, she stopped her swim and
rested her elbows on the tiled edge.
"You coming in?" she asked, looking from Dragon to me
and back again.
Dragon shook his head, smiling, and sat himself on one of
the sun-loungers that dotted the patio.
"I'll join you," I replied, grinning playfully at Lyanne,
"Although I don't swim very well."
I scampered towards a series of wide steps that led down
into the water, with Lyanne splashing water at me and
shrieking "Come on in!" I reached the bottom step, the
water coming up to my waist. It was cool and refreshing
against the soft skin of my upper thighs and ass - I had
hardly noticed the temperature on the thick leathery skin
that covers most of my legs.
Lyanne streaked through the pool towards me, splashing
more water at me and making me squeak as the cold

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 123


droplets struck my breasts. My nipples hardened with the
chilly water, or perhaps it was the prospect of another sexy
encounter with the sexy little slut swimming towards me.
Lyanne stood up in the shallow end next to me, pool water
running from her hair and dripping from her face, and kissed
me libidinously on the lips.
"Good morning," I said wryly, disengaging after thirty
seconds of passionate tonguing.
"Hmmm, you look cold," Lyanne replied playfully,
"Perhaps I should warm you up?"
I nodded in response, although I did not really feel cold at
all, of course. She kissed me again, holding my butt with
both hands under the water's surface and pressing her
breasts against mine. I arched my back slightly, trying to
slide my nipples upwards to rub them over hers. She started
slightly as my hard left teat flicked her right one. She
moaned and stepped slightly to one side, bending to suckle
on that very nipple. I cupped both her small but delightfully
pert breasts in my hands, stimulating her with finger and
thumb.
We two girls stood in the pool, alternately sucking, licking
and fondling each other's upper bodies. Out of the corner of
my eye, I could see Brandon watching us closely, and I
thought I caught a movement under the voluminous folds of
the white Kimono he still wore. But my attention was soon
dragged back to Lyanne’s attentions, now licking and
fingering the lips between my breasts. I could sense she
wanted more, soon, and I was not surprised when she took
my hand from her breast and guided me back up the pool
steps.
By now, the sun was quite hot. Lyanne and I toweled
each other down, using fluffy blue-and-white striped towels
provided by the PA while our attention was elsewhere. I
gently pressed Lyanne backwards and down onto another
towel-covered sun-lounger. As she lay back, I picked up a
small bottle of massage oil - again, the automation inferring
perfectly our desires - and began to rub a few splashes into
her breasts.
She moaned again, clearly enjoying the sensations on her
chest, but soon guided my oily fingers down her belly,
towards her already spreading legs. I never need further

124 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


encouragement under these circumstances. I immediately
began delicately rubbing oil onto her vagina lips and clit,
feeling her writhe slightly as the oils warmed by my fingers
infused the delicate folds of flesh. Her movements became
more vigorous as I slipped a fingertip into her opening -
already moist with excitement - then her whole body tensed
as I began finger-fucking her.
All the while watched by Dragon from the other sun-
lounger, I proceeded to finger Lyanne's cunt and ass
simultaneously, dripping more oil onto my hands to lubricate
the simultaneous movements. I could feel Lyanne's powerful
internal muscles begin to twitch, then spasm more strongly
as she came around my fingers, crying, "Yes! Oh, yes" time
after time.
The audience was thoroughly appreciative of our efforts,
and we were beckoned over by Dragon, who flipped aside his
Kimono. He was already hard, his massive penis erect and
visibly throbbing with excitement. Both Lyanne and I fucked
him, one after the other, both evidently wanting to feel that
huge dick deep inside. I knelt to one side as Lyanne sat
astride him on the sun-lounger, bouncing up and down on his
cock while rubbing her own clit, making energetic circular
motions with all four fingers. I watched Brandon's dick
sliding between her oiled lips while I helped Lyanne make it
again, whispering encouragements into her ear, as well as
oiling my own clit and cunt.
She came for a second time, crying out again and again,
and then it was my turn. There is something so very good
about a naturally large penis penetrating deep inside me.
Oh, I really like big dildos, both the old-fashioned passive
plastic kind and those infused with pervasive automation,
and fingers and fists too have their place in my heart and all
of my openings. But there is something irredeemably special
about a natural cock, changing its size and shape as it moves
inside me. With these thoughts running through my head, I
came hard and long, unable to contain either my cries or my
climaxing spasms.
After the floor show around the pool earlier, not to
mention being energetically fucked by us both, it was not
surprising that a pair of horny girls were able to make
Dragon come quickly and hard. We knelt together on one

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 125


side of the lounger and we alternately ass-fingered him and
wanked him off, our fingers still lubricated by a mixture of
massage oil and cunt juices. Sensing him close to orgasm,
Lyanne and I moved cheek-to-cheek, our mouths open, each
using one hand to rub his twitching manhood, finally coaxing
from him an immensely satisfying explosion of cum that
covered both her face and mine.
I licked by lips and swallowed the few drops of semen
which had made it into my mouth. I then licked the cum
from Lyanne's chin and forehead, consuming that too before
kissing her full on the lips. On a whim, I playfully licked
Dragon’s cum from inside Lyanne's mouth, taking it into my
own - Lyanne seemed happy to let me have the lion's share
on this occasion. Brandon lay back, clearly spent for the
moment, but equally obviously enjoying the sight of us girls
sharing his taste.
After a few moments of all three of us basking in the twin
glows of morning sunshine and post-coitus ecstasy, we
moved over to the bathing house which adjoined the pool
area. Together we showered off the oils, soaping and rinsing
each other languorously before stepping out to stand under
the flash dryer for a few moments, which left my skin
smooth and dry.
"Well girls," Dragon said, still grinning as he picked up his
Kimono and deftly slipped it over his shoulders, "Anyone for
a bite to eat?"
Lyanne declined the offer of breakfast, declaring that she
was too sated with sex to be interested in mere food.
Personally, I find the opposite is true: energetic sex makes
me ravenously hungry and I eagerly anticipated the arrival of
nourishment.
Lyanne reached up and unfastened the collar which still
encircled her neck, and handed it to Dragon. He nodded
formally to her in response. She then turned to me.
"Have you been here before?" she asked.
"No," I admitted.
She nodded slowly, smiling as she turned to leave.
"You'll be coming here again," she predicted, "You're
very, very good."

126 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


Part 3
After Lyanne had left, Dragon invited me to join him on
the decking in front of the house. We sat at a small table in
the warm sunshine, overlooking the grounds and the pool,
and shaded by strategically placed canopies. Dragon
commanded some breakfast, delivered instantaneously to
the table by the automation: for me, a large beaker of the
hot meaty broth that I enjoy so much and a plate of the
high-protein, low-carbohydrate foodstuffs my metabolism
demands.
Brandon sipped his drink - coffee, I think, how retro! -
then sat in companionable silence for a few moments while I
took the edge off my appetite. Finally, he set down his cup
and turned to me with a serious expression on his face.
"I have to admit I've got you here under false pretenses,"
he began.
"What, you mean you didn't want me to fuck Lyanne on
your behalf?" I asked quizzically.
He laughed aloud, looking at me appreciatively and
perhaps with just a tinge of relief.
"Well, that was partially the point, of course," he replied,
"But there's also a pickup and delivery job I'd like you to do
for me."
It was my turn to laugh.
"It's not the first time I've offered that kind of service,
you know?"
He nodded.
"I do know," he replied, "But this one's a little bit
different."
"So where's the pickup?" I asked.
"Aren’t you curious?" he countered, "Don't you want to
know what the item is?"
"I never ask," I replied, shrugging "I can't see that
anyone would ever want to tell me."
"Well," he said slowly, "In this case, I think you really do
have to know."

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 127


Well, there's a first, I thought, amused: someone who's
going to tell me what's going on.
Dragon nibbled on a croissant, perhaps wondering where
to begin. Coming, perhaps, to some kind of conclusion he
began to talk about his past - a past before I was even born.
As I understood it, Brandon O'Reilly was an investor, one
who used his wealth - mostly acquired hundreds of years
ago, when things still changed quickly - to fund new business
ideas, new ventures. He was, in short, an entrepreneur -
and indeed, still was, in a limited kind of way. This is of
itself unusual, given the stasis of society deliberately
introduced, as I understand the histories, to allow human
beings to live forever on this little planet of ours.
"That's when I picked up the nickname, Dragon," he
continued, "An aggressive and - I'd like to think - astute
investor in other people's businesses. Or, at least, a lucky
one."
He paused, looking out over the lawns with a distant
expression on his face.
"So, one of the more risky investments I put money into,
in the early days, was what was then still called
Nanotechnology" - I had not heard the word before - "The
early successes in medicine and computer systems" -
another unfamiliar term - "made me a lot of money. Against
the advice of my peers, I ploughed much of my wealth back
into the businesses - the research and development, the
facilities and equipment - which, much to their chagrin,
showed a considerable profit and made me even wealthier."
"My last investment was in the - not just self-replicating,
but self-evolving - Nanotechnology: the final step in the
production of the Pervasive Automation which now surrounds
us all, and culminating in the creation of the society in which
we now live."
Dragon gestured vaguely with his coffee cup, looking out
over the verdant scenery.
"You have to remember, at the time where I grew up, our
everyday life would have seemed nothing less than
miraculous. The vision, and now the reality: automatic
policing, the provision of basic needs for all, the maintenance
of buildings and landscapes, and the creation of an un-

128 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


ageing population - with enforced medical services and birth
control. All this was put in place by organizations in which I
held an equity interest.”
He returned the cup to the table and his attention to me.
"As a private investor in this immense project, I managed
to amass a vast fortune. Now I am still a rich man, although
this means less and less these days, but one of the
advantages of wealth, in the early days of our new world,
was that it was possible to buy privileges not available to
many."
"What kind of privileges?" I wondered.
"A long time ago," he replied, "When - a few - people
could still do such things, I fathered two children."
I was fascinated with the racy idea of procreation, of
giving birth. I was vaguely aware that this was the original
purpose of sex, but I had never before met anyone who had
admitted to carrying out this rare process - well, except
Mom, of course.
"Really!" I breathed excitedly, "So who are your kids?"
Dragon let out an explosive breath.
"Well," he began, "One of them is you."
It took me quite some time to get over the shock. I was
not sure how to react, what I should feel, even whether
there should be any kind of emotion at all. Sure, I get on
well with Mom - she's a friend and confidante, and we like
each other - but I'm convinced I would feel the same way if
there were none of those old-fashioned biological
relationships between us. I decided I would just have to
defer judgment on my relationship - if any - with Dragon.
"Well, OK," I said finally, attempting to recover my
composure, "All very interesting. But what has this to do
with the delivery job?"
"The package," the Dragon said slowly, "Is your sister."

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 129


Volume 11 – East of Eden

Part 1
"Well, actually your half-sister," Dragon continued calmly.
"Her name is Selene."
Once again, I was completely taken aback. So many
astonishing things were happening all at once: newly-
discovered relations coming at me from every side and then
some kind of delivery job on offer which I completely failed
to comprehend. I felt completely overwhelmed.
Brandon clearly recognized my reactions and reached
over the breakfast table to put his hand on mine
reassuringly.
"I know I'm dumping a lot on you all at once," he said
soothingly, "But, trust me, it's better this way - to give you
the whole picture as a sketch and then help you fill in the
details. It'll take time, so bear with me, please."
"What happened between you and Mom?" I blurted,
striking out for metaphorical solid ground.
"Oh, the usual," he replied, "Two people trying to get
along with each other because they feel they must.
Eventually it all reaches breaking-point. At least your
mother had the good sense to dump me as soon as she was
able to - she always was a strong-minded and self-
determined individual. In any case, a lot of what you are is
down to your Mom, not me. It was she who made the
suggestions about your modifications, and it was she who
raised you on her own - and a damn fine job she's made of it
too."
He smiled proudly at me.
"All-in-all, a particularly well-balanced individual, I would
say," he continued, leering appreciatively, "As well as an
astonishingly sexy one."

130 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


I stuck out my tongue at him, and he blew me a kiss in
response.
"As you know, I am still friends - and occasional sex
partners - with your Mom, although I don't get to see her as
often as I'd like," adding with a shrug of the shoulders, "So
many other distractions and drains on my time."
I had recognized at the party that there was considerable
warmth between Mom and Dragon, that they genuinely
enjoyed each others company in public, and very probably
less public ways, too.
"I wish it was the same with Selene's mother," Brandon
continued sadly, "Marianne, her name was."
Dragon paused for a long moment, twirling his coffee cup
and evidently caught up in some deep introspection.
"I met Marianne a long time after your Mom," he
continued, shaking his head as if to dislodge a particularly
painful memory, "We had a wild and deeply emotional
relationship for several years. When it became clear that I
might be allowed to father another child, I was natural that I
asked Marianne to be the mother."
"How did you get permission to become a parent?" I
asked, still fascinated with the whole process.
"Well, it’s a long and complex procedure," Dragon replied,
"And takes a great deal of money. In another age, this
process would have been called bribery, but I prefer to think
of it as payments for services rendered."
"OK," I said, still puzzled, but decided I was not going to
get much further on this right now.
"Anyway," Dragon continued, "When Marianne became
pregnant with Selene, she had a huge change of heart for
some reason. To this day, I don't know what caused it.
Perhaps it was something from her own childhood that
reared its head, some ingrained notion about the way in
which children should be brought up, and perhaps some
repressed fear of the Pervasive Automation."
I shook my head in wonderment. How could anyone be
worried by the PA? It always did everything you expected,
and usually before you had fully formed the thought in your
head.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 131


"Marianne got to be increasingly eccentric," Brandon
explained, "Firstly, she insisted that we had a girl - fine by
me, of course. Then she declined any non-essential genetic
tinkering in the womb. Again, I wasn't too bothered about
that - a Norm daughter - and a second child! - was more
than I could have hoped for."
He paused, again sipping his cooling coffee.
"Finally, she upped and left for a commune before Selene
was born, a religious enclave known as Eden, and I never
saw her again. I've never seen my other daughter in the
flesh - just a few pictures and letters - and I've never been
allowed to visit."
"Why not?" I asked, astonished, "People can go anywhere
they want, surely."
"Well, no," he replied, "Eden is a designated NNZ."
"What do you mean, an NNZ?" I asked, struggling with
the unfamiliar terminology he was now using.
"A No Nanotechnology Zone," he replied then, seeing my
confusion, expanded on his explanation.
"When the Pervasive Automation - back then called
Nanotechnology - was invented, a great many people were
nervous that it might somehow be dangerous. So, it was
first introduced in strictly limited regions, and the
geographical area in which the PA is allowed to work is firmly
wired into its basic technology and simply can't be changed
by self-modification."
"As the advantages became apparent, and most people
were won over, these areas grew and spread and joined up.
Even so, there remain to this day groups of people who are
still suspicious or afraid of the automation, or maintain moral
beliefs that declare the automation somehow unacceptable -
'evil', in the jargon. In these enclaves, there is simply no
PA."
Dragon took a deep breath.
"So, since there's no automation, people can make up
their own rules of behavior. They can hurt each other and,
since there's no pervasive medicine, people really do die
there."

132 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


I gasped in horror, my mouth open involuntarily in shock.
"Marianne moved there forty years ago," Dragon
continued sadly, "She expired - from what was once bizarrely
known as 'natural causes' - nearly a decade ago. Died from
old age. Quite unnecessarily."
I was speechless, flabbergasted. The notion that
someone - anyone - could die was incomprehensible.
"Selene managed to smuggle a message out," Brandon
continued, "Perhaps the death of her mother brought things
home to her. Now, she wants to get away from the
commune."
"So what am I supposed to do?" I asked.
"Go in to Eden, as a visitor - to see your sister," he said
bluntly, "Smuggle in some PA - I'll provide the goods, and
the automation will be programmed to help you. And bring
her out."
"Why don't you go yourself?" I demanded
"I simply wouldn't be permitted to enter," he replied
sadly, "I know, I've asked repeatedly, and they've always
said no. I guess my commitment to our society - and my
actions in bringing it about through my investments in
Pervasive Automation - are too well-known to be
acceptable."
"But they'll let me in?" I asked.
Dragon shrugged.
"You have a legitimate claim for entry - she is your sister,
after all. And you were born into a world already saturated
with automation - so they can't blame that on you."
Part 2
I sat and thought for a long moment.
"OK, well, I'm willing to give it a try," I replied finally, "I
assume that this PA you mentioned been fixed somehow to
ignore the NNZ ban?"
"Yes," Dragon said slowly, "I did the work myself."
I looked at him very directly and raised an eyebrow.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 133


"Well, since I made my money from nanotechnology, and
then I had time on my hands, I thought I would find out
more about it. It's taken decades of effort, firstly to work
out what had to be done, and then building an environment
where I could undertake it without being discovered."
"What do you mean?" I demanded.
"I had to work in secret, if you remember what the word
means," he replied, "This house, and the grounds
immediately around it, are infested with a subtly changed
variant of the standard automation - one which limits certain
information flows, and allows me to build further and more
sophisticated PA versions undetected."
"Aren't they suspicious?" I wanted to know.
"Of course," he replied, looking smug, "And my
automation is constructed to just fail to conceal the presence
of my dungeon, so that anyone who investigates believes
that it is my quaintly old-fashioned little peccadilloes that I'm
attempting to hide."
I laughed at the ingenuity of the tactic.
"How am I going to get this illicit automation into this
Commune, then?" I asked.
Dragon put his hand in a pocket of the Kimono he wore
and extracted something which he held out on his hand.
Sitting on his palm was a curious metallic sphere, engraved
with complex patterns and inlaid in pink and cream. It
looked very familiar, very much like the original container for
the anonymous package I had delivered to Jackie Yakamoto
a few days earlier - the one the Dollface in the Starbucks had
been concealing in her vagina.
"Oh, I know just where that's supposed to go," I said,
highly amused, "But you really think they'll not look there?"
"Oh, they're sure to do so," he replied laconically, "But I
know that your internal organs are not arranged as other
women."
I grinned back at him. It was quite true. I have a lot
more space, more length and accommodation inside me than
almost anyone I've met. In the past, this has made me very
popular with certain well-endowed men, not to mention
several other male Kinds, especially Satyrs.

134 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


"So you'll be able to get it right inside you, so far up that
it won't be discovered, even by," he paused, "Shall we say,
the most intimate physical inspection."
I nodded, a clearer understanding growing in my head.
Dragon sat back in his chair, again toying with his coffee cup.
"Besides," he added, smirking at me, "I've had an
excellent opportunity to check it out myself."
"So how am I going to get the Automation in there? Are
you planning on slipping it in yourself?" I asked, grinning
lavishly and thinking again of Johnny's Dollface, not to
mention Dragon's delightfully oversized dick.
"Well, no. This one's a replica," Dragon replied slowly,
"Lyanne put the real thing inside you when she was fucking
you last night."
Part 3

I stared at him for a long moment, then burst out


laughing.
"You seem pretty sure of yourself," I said.
"Oh, I am," Dragon countered, grinning widely,
"Remember, I have direct access to the kind of behavioral
modeling the PA undertakes on a routine basis, and so it's
easy to predict anyone's reaction with a fair degree of
precision."
"Well, I'm not going to disappoint you," I replied, "It
sounds like a real adventure."
My answer had not been in doubt for quite some minutes
now. I was in truth keen to rescue my sister - like some
adventure story from olden times - and I fully confess to
having been highly intrigued.
"Great!" Dragon enthused, "Now there are some
preparations - some further preparations, I should say - that
you need to undertake."
"OK," I replied cautiously, "What kind of things?"
"For a start, we need to get you properly dressed."

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 135


I was confused and it must have shown on my face - or
perhaps the automation was feeding an analysis of my
reactions direct to Dragon in a way I could not detect.
"The people in Eden," Dragon continued, "Have rather
quaint and old-fashioned ideas about a number of things -
many of them centered on sex. Public nudity is prohibited,
and even displaying skin other than face and hands is
frowned on."
"So I'm going to have to wear a costume?" I asked.
"Well, yes, if you like," he replied, "But you should bear in
mind that they will regard this as normal everyday dress."
Dragon put down his coffee cup and stood up suddenly.
"Come inside with me," he said, "Time is of the essence."
I followed him back into the living area of the house,
where a large pile of black and white cloth had materialized
on one of the couches. He picked up some large item of
white cloth and held it out to me.
"This is the approved underwear," he explained.
I took the proffered item and slipped it on, then turned to
look at myself in a mirror instantaneously provided by the
automation. I confess I laughed aloud. The shapeless
knickers covered me from waist to mid-thigh - concealing
more bare flesh than the short skirts I normally wore.
Under Dragon's guidance, I struggled into the remaining
clothes: a voluminous white blouse with long sleeves, a
heavy black skirt that hung nearly to the ground, a jacket of
the same material and a headscarf. Dragon helped me tie
the scarf under my chin.
"There," he said approvingly, "You look like a proper
goodwife now."
At first, the garments felt like some kind of fancy dress,
but I found myself becoming gloomy and depressing as I put
them on. They were so cumbersome, so heavy and
restrictive and above all, so un-sexy. I took one last look in
the mirror - I hardly recognized myself - then turned to
Dragon.
"What next?" I asked.

136 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


"I'll take you to the compound," Dragon replied, "In my
car."
We traveled together for about an hour. Dragon
explained that the Eden commune was a carefully-
constructed Primitive society, technologically stuck
somewhere in the later part of the Twentieth Century,
although with a moralistic culture from some much earlier
point in history. About ten thousand people lived inside the
NNZ, tilling the land and growing their own food, and
breeding children, a process involving something called
'marriage' which I did not quite understand. These people
lived and worked for perhaps sixty years - I was already
many times that age - policing their own lives and business
according to some loosely defined set of rules called the
Commandments.
After the briefing, we said companionably for a while,
Dragon in his loose-fitting Kimono and me in the scratchily
uncomfortable cover-all clothes he had foisted on me.
Eventually, the limo came to a halt in a quiet wooded area,
and the car door swung open silently. I moved to get out,
but Dragon took me by the arm.
"Take care," he said earnestly, "People can get really hurt
- even killed - in there."
With that chilling thought, I exited the car. The door
closed softly behind me, and the car turned around and
quickly accelerated away in the direction from which we had
just come.
Part 4
I looked around. I was standing on a well-maintained
roadway which widened at just this spot into a large circle,
presumably to allow wheeled vehicles to turn around easily.
Tall trees stood motionlessly on either side, and I could hear
nothing except for the faint calls of birdsong and occasional
rustles of wildlife.
Opposite the roadway was a track, narrower than the
road and paved with broken stones in stark contrast to the
smooth tarmac I was currently standing on. It was the
obvious way to go, and I moved towards the start of the
path. As I did so, a sign appeared in mid-air, flashing

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 137


furiously in the familiar way of the automation determined to
attract your attention.
"Warning: no pervasive automation beyond this point!"
Simultaneously, these same words were spoken aloud
directly into my ears. This warning was followed by further
messages explaining in detail exactly what this meant, and
the risks and hazards I was exposing myself to by
proceeding.
I ignored the warnings, although they did nothing to lift
my mood. Already perspiring, I trudged along the path with
the sun on my back, hampered by the heavy clothing, and
with my high-heeled feet occasionally slipping on the uneven
surface. After several hundred meters or so, I came across a
sign - an old-fashioned fixed board - which announced "Eden
Commune" in worn paint. No welcome, no warnings even,
just a flat statement. Presumably no-one came here who did
not know what to expect.
Trees and heavy undergrowth grew on either side of the
track which curved this way and that, making it difficult to
see very far. I rounded a bend. Ahead, the woodland was
cleared for fifty meters in front of a stout wooden fence
which looked to be as twice as high as my head. The fence
was surmounted in places by lookout towers and I could see
figures moving in them. One spotted me approaching and
shouted down to an unseen colleague, although I was too far
away to make out the exact words.
The gravel path led directly to a pair of heavy wooden
gates, evidently firmed closed and blocking the way. I
walked up to the gates and stopped, wondering what to do.
Perhaps I should knock politely, although I doubted I would
be able to make myself heard through the thick planks.
Suddenly a hatch at head height slid open with a crash and a
bearded face appeared in the opening.
"What do you want?" he asked brusquely.
"I'm Tania," I replied simply, "I'm here to see my sister
Selene."
The bearded man consulted something written on a sheaf
of papers clipped to some kind of board. He grunted
something that sounded disappointed to find my name listed,
then shouted to someone to open the gates. One of the

138 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


doors opened slowly on old-fashioned hinges which gave the
impression that they were not very frequently opened. As
soon as the gap was wide enough, I slipped through; there
was another shout and the gates closed with a bang behind
me.
There were six or seven people clustered around me. All
were men, and all wore beards. They were dressed alike in
lack jacket and trousers, with a white shirt buttoned to the
neck and round black hats with wide brims.
The man with the clipboard, who was clearly in charge,
looked me up and down. So much of me was covered up
that it must have been impossible to tell that I was anything
other than a Norm female, although he did look
disapprovingly at what I suspect he imagined were ordinary
high-heeled shoes.
"So, you're our latest visitor from Sodom," he said, "Here
to marvel at God's land of Eden?"
I was confused, so I followed the advice that Dragon had
given me in the car - when in doubt, repeat your request,
politely and in simple language.
"I'm here to see my sister Selene."
"So you said, so you said. Jem and Jacob will act as your
escort," the leader said, indicating a younger man whose
facial hair owed more to willpower than hirsuteness, and an
elder whose neatly-clipped beard was streaked with grey. I
thanked him profusely, then set off with the two stolid men,
one walking in front of me and the other directly behind.
As we walked, I took the opportunity to have a good look
around. Apart from a small cluster of low buildings by the
gate, all dark wood and grey fieldstone, fields of various
crops lay in every direction as far as I could see. Trees
marched in neat rows following the lines of the hedges or
were bunched into little copses in odd corners. Men and
women, and smaller persons I eventually realized must be
children, were working in the fields, stooped over the corn or
hoeing the rows of vegetables.
Our oddly-assorted little group trudged along the road
towards a large group of buildings. A horse-drawn cart was
coming the other way and we stepped aside to let it pass. I
had seen such animals before, of course, mighty beasts that

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 139


were cosseted by equestrian collectors, but this one looked
worn as if by many years of hard labor. The cart itself was
laden with a foul-smelling substance that I eventually
realized was animal shit mixed with straw - a wagon-load of
manure to fertilize the fields.
Following Jem, I walked through the little town
unconsciously attracting a great deal of undesired attention
from the passers-by. Men dressed like those at the gates
glared wordlessly at me, while women dressed as I was
shielded their children as if I was some kind of untamed
beast, likely to rip them limb from limb in an instant.
Jacob indicated a larger building with steps leading up to
an imposing front door.
"You have an interview with the Reverend," he said, "All
visitors must be inspected and approved by him."
"The Reverend is a blessed Methuselah, a miracle from
God," Jem added with awe in his voice, "He has lived
amongst us for two hundred years and more, without the
sins of your godless nanotechnology."
I was unsure what response was expected from me here.
My natural mischievousness got the better of me, and I
asked him, "Do you expect to live as long?"
"Oh no," he replied earnestly, "I am far too sinful, I am
sure."
Before I could question Jem further, Jacob shushed us
both, then removed his hat and walked up the stone
staircase. Jem and I followed meekly, Jem too removing his
headgear and toying with it nervously.
We entered the building and stood inside a high vaulted
hall with an echoing polished stone floor. We marched
nearly the full length of the hall, the men's boots and my
heels clattering loudly on the marble tiles. All eyes followed
us, and it seemed I was again the center of attention for
some reason. I held my chin high and looked neither to right
nor left.
Jacob stopped and knocked on a door marked with a large
brass plate which read: "The Very Reverend James W.
Buxton".
A voice sounded from within: "Come!"

140 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


We entered, the door swinging open silently. A old man
with a grey beard sat behind a large desk of polished wood,
caught in the act of handing a sheaf of papers to an
underling who took one look at our party and scurried out.
With a start, I realized that I recognized the man at the
desk - his was the face I had seen peering from the bushes
sat the picnic spot, watching Kim the Andie being fucked
hard by her friends in the clearing by the lake.
Part 5
I froze in the doorway, hoping that my reaction did not
show. Surely I must be mistaken? The revered leader of
this closed community, this miraculous figure, caught
wanking in the bushes? I was at a loss; just what was going
on I could not determine.
The Reverend stood up and stalked around the desk,
beckoning me forward with a pre-emptive wave of his hand.
I approached the desk slowly, followed by Jem and Jacob at
a respectful distance. He walked around me as if he was
inspecting a prize specimen.
"So you are Goodwife Selene's sister, are you?" he said
softly.
"I am, sir," I replied, carefully following the form of
address Dragon had recommended to me.
"And you look so very young," he continued, almost to
himself, "Barely more than a child yourself, are you not?"
"I am a little older than I look, sir," I replied, presenting a
half-truth again suggested by Dragon.
"Hah! No doubt that Spawn of the Devil's loins, the
handiwork of Lucifer himself," the Reverend almost spat,
"That foul nanotechnology has had a hand in your
appearance!"
"I'm told so, sir," I returned, looking at the floor with
pretended embarrassment.
The Reverend abruptly turned to the two men who had
accompanied me from the gate.
"Leave us!" he commanded.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 141


The two men did as they were instructed with alacrity,
although I did detect a glance, perhaps even a smirk, that
passed between them as they closed the door behind them.
"Strip!" the Reverend instructed.
I hastened to comply, slipping out of the heavy and
confining jacket and skirt almost with a sense of relief.
Under other circumstances, I would have been eager with
anticipation. The firm command and the evident urgent need
of another person is something that can generally be relied
upon to immediately excite me. Here, tinged with an
indefinable overtone of threat which I was not familiar with, I
felt an unaccustomed nervousness about a sexual encounter
- something I had not experienced in a very long time.
Reluctantly, I slipped off the vast knickers that covered
me from waist to mid-thigh, then started to unbutton the
white blouse. I let the shirt fall to the floor and stood naked,
ankles demurely together, while the Reverend again walked
around and around me, studying me from every side. He
made a close inspection of my arms and legs and feet, his
fingers exploring the boundary between the band of tough
leathery skin below my breasts and above my waist, and the
softer and more sensitive skin to either side. He briefly
fingered the unconventional opening between my tits, and
twisting my nipples cruelly just once, perhaps just to see if
they were real.
He put his hands on my shoulders and made me kneel in
front of him, opening a slit in the front of his clothes and
bringing out his dick, already stiffening with excitement.
Without warning he suddenly forced his cock in my mouth. I
struggled to oblige him, not because his dick was particularly
large or impressive, but because he seemed to have no
desire or concern over my wellbeing or enjoyment of the
encounter. I gagged, something I can normally control
without difficultly, but he did not relax the pressure nor
cease his urgent thrusting at my discomfort.
After a few moments, presumably enough to make him as
large and hard as he was going to get, he raised me up and
brutally bent me forward over his desk. He held me down
with one hand around my desk while roughly fingering me in
the ass and cunt alternately.

142 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


"Such a slut, wanting this, a wanton hussy," he growled in
my ear, "But I have a way towards absolution for harlots like
you, a way to take away the sin - at least for a moment."
So saying, he plunged his penis into me, fucking me hard
for a few seconds before spurting his seed inside me.
It was now abundantly clear to me that the Reverend was
essentially a hypocrite, engaging in casual and exploitive sex
with all penitents and visitors - and presumably anyone else
he could persuade - on the pretext of checking them over,
inspecting them for physical or moral damage, while publicly
preaching the virtues of abstinence and marital fidelity.
And his apparently miraculous longevity? Probably that
was equally hypocritical. He had access to the automation -
the nanotechnology, as he called it - in the world outside, the
real world. He somehow managed to leave the supposedly
secured area that was the Eden Commune, presumably
without being observed, which was how I had come to
glimpse him masturbating in the bushes at the lakeside
retreat.
It was all over soon enough. Of course he enjoyed it - I
could see that plainly in his face - but, for the first time ever,
I felt used, dirty and mistreated after sex.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 143


Volume 12 – Never Look Back

Part 1
"Get dressed and get out," he instructed me brusquely,
hastily stuffing his flaccid cock back inside his trousers, "Your
Kind disgusts me."
I hastened to comply, grabbing my blouse from where I
had dropped it and slipping my arms into the sleeves. I
found the vast and unflattering knickers, stepping into them
hurriedly as if they would offer me some kind of protection.
The skirt and jacket followed, and I fumbled with the
unfamiliar buttons and fastenings. While I dressed, the
Reverend returned behind his desk, and sat in the leather
swivel chair, appearing to ignore me completely and giving
his entire attention to the books and papers on the desktop.
I was still adjusting my blouse and skirt as I opened the
door to leave. The same two bearded men were waiting
outside for me.
"So the Reverend has finished with you - and so quickly,
too," the younger one said, not even attempting to keep the
smirk from his face, "And did he give you absolution?"
I bowed my head, not trusting myself to speak at that
moment.
"Follow me," the older one instructed, and we marched
back along the same polished marble corridor, down the
stone steps and outside to the street.
"This way," Jacob said, pointing down the road away from
the direction from which we had approached.
As we walked, Jem took great pride in pointing out the
features and facilities on either side - here, a church with
towering spires and arched windows, there a mission and
workhouse for the poor and needy. I felt I was getting a
guided tour of the complex - I could not bring myself to think
of it as a town - as if it was something I would want to buy.

144 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


We arrived at what the older man took pleasure in
describing as a "guest lodge". It was a heavily built building
of stone blocks with tiny iron-barred windows. Jacob guided
me inside, indicating a room I should use. I could not help
but notice that the building was guarded and each room had
a heavy wooden door with a lock which could only be
operated from the outside. I racked my brains for a
moment, struggling to remember the correct word - ah, yes,
it was a prison.
"Ten minutes," he said brusquely.
I sat on the hard and uncomfortable bed, looking at bowl
and jug of cold water, and a meager and scratchy towel that
had been provided. I washed myself as best I could,
removing the stain of the Reverend's seed from between my
legs. I adjusted my dress and reached to open the door,
half-expecting it to be bolted from the outside, but it swung
aside easily enough.
Jem and Jacob had been talking to the guards near the
entrance, and turned when they heard my room door open.
I approached, eyes downcast demurely.
"So now you will visit your sister," Jacob said
portentously, "Come this way."
I bit my tongue, a retort unspoken in my throat.
It was another ten minute walk to the house where I
would meet Selene. She lived in one of a row of seemingly
identical establishments, each two stories high. I took care
to note the number of the house by counting as we walked
by. Low wooden fences at the rear enclosed plots of land
which seemed to be intensively cultivated - by the
backbreaking effort of actual people, no less - and grew a
variety of plants which I assumed must be foodstuffs.
There was a covered wooden veranda or sidewalk in front
of each building, which creaked alarmingly underfoot as I
crossed. Jem knocked on the door, which was opened by the
oldest-looking woman I had ever seen. Her face was a mass
of wrinkles framed by a close-fitting cap of stiff white fabric.
Surely, I thought, this cannot be my sister.
"Sister Mary, good day to you," Jacob addressed the
crone in a surprisingly loud voice, "Is Goodwife Selene at
home?"

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 145


"She is, sir," the old woman answered, bobbing down in a
curious way that I finally realized must be some kind of
polite gesture.
The crone led me to old-fashioned sitting room - a parlor -
at the front of the house. Another woman sat in an easy
chair there - a woman who had been exceptionally beautiful
once, and even now exuded a certain powerful attraction.
She was dressed, as I was, in unrelieved black and white,
and her hair, what of it I could see under her linen cap, was
a fine blonde color, although a little washed out and streaked
with grey.
"Hello, Tania," the younger woman said, standing and
crossing the room to take both my hands in hers, "I'm
Selene."
Part 2
I could barely breathe, and I felt sure that my mouth
must be hanging open. This woman, my sister, or at least
half-sister, looked so old. Not as old as the crone who had
answered the door, true, but wrinkled and bent enough that
I would have thought her infected by some kind of wasting
disease, if I had not been paying attention during my school
history lessons so long ago.
Selene guided me unresisting into the room, and gestured
at an easy chair on the other side of the unlit fireplace.
"Sit, sit," she said gently.
I sat, balanced on the edge of the chair, the folds of the
unfamiliar clothing clinging uncomfortably to my legs.
Selene sat too, settling herself composedly, even elegantly,
into the worn leather upholstery.
The two men who had accompanied me everywhere
escorted me inside. They hung around for a moment,
standing uncomfortably by the window, then decided they
would be better off waiting outside, perhaps not wishing to
be subjected to a barrage of womanly chatter.
The old woman also followed me inside and settled herself
in another chair on the far side of the room, close to the
window and the door through which I had entered. She
seemed to be doing something with her hands, using long
thin poles and some kind of colored thread. It would not be

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until much later I would understand that this was a process
called "knitting", and was a way of making clothing unaided
by any kind of automation.
I've looked forward to meeting you so much," Selene said
earnestly, leaning forward from her own chair and speaking
softly, as if wished to add a little intimacy to our
conversation.
"I want to know everything about you," she added, "And
about the world outside."
I glanced in the direction of the elderly woman.
"Oh, don't worry about her," Selene said lightly, with a
distinct giggle in her voice, "She's very deaf - that's why I
suggested her as a chaperone for this meeting."
I grinned in return. Somehow, the shared secret had
broken the ice. We talked for a long time all that afternoon
and into the early evening. I told her everything I could
think of about myself - she gasped when she realized I was
more than five times older than she was - and in return
Selene spoke of her life, her family, her society. It all
sounded so different, but she said nothing that I did not find
hard to take at face value. By contrast, she seemed to
disbelieve, or misunderstand, much of what I said about the
way I lived, and I found myself shying away from topics
where she might be asked to believe another impossible
thing.
After an hour or so, I judged, Selene offered me tea. This
is not a drink I usually take, but I did not want to cause any
offense, so I accepted the offer graciously. Selene stood and
went to the kitchen to make it herself, the old woman
looking up sharply as soon as she stood up.
I sat and watched the crone knitting until Selene
returned, carrying a tray loaded with cups and a variety of
other unfamiliar implements. She asked how I liked my tea -
very milky and no sugar, I decided - and poured me a cup.
She also poured tea for the crone in the corner, who nodded
her thanks absently. Selene also offered me some kind of
baked cookies, which I declined - too heavy for my digestion
- but which the old woman accepted with alacrity.
Despite the constraints of the situation and the
expectations of her upbringing, I felt an instant rapport with

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 147


Selene. Under the watchful eye of the crone in the corner
seat, it was impossible to touch my sister, other than that
brief moment holding her hands as a greeting when I
arrived. Even so, I got the strongest sensation of a sexual
interest in me, a desire more a more intimate contact,
somehow emanating from Selene. Perhaps it was just me,
but maybe it was her increasing knowledge of the nature of
the world outside, coupled wit her sexual desires, that had
motivated her to contact Dragon.
Much later, Jem and Jacob re-entered the room.
"Time to go," Jacob said briskly, nodding politely to the
old woman before gesturing for me to come with him. I
stood hurriedly, adjusting my skirts as best I could.
"I'll be back to visit you soon," I said to Selene as I left,
as reassuringly as I could, adding, "Perhaps even sooner
than you think."
Part 3
I was guided back to my cell at the "guest house" by
Jacob and Jem, now feeling deflated and moving slowly with
my eyes firmly on the ground. I sat heavily in the hard chair
- which was made, as far as I could see, entirely from pieces
of tree, badly cut and assembled by hand - and leaned on
the table - which was constructed in the same fashion -
holding my head in my hands.
The younger guard, Jem, was left to look after me - Jacob
presumably believing that it was beneath his dignity to wait
on someone from my world, or perhaps he assumed that I
was no threat. Shortly afterwards, a plate of food was
brought for me - unfamiliar heavy starchy food that was not
at all to my taste, but I did my best to consume out of
politeness, although I was not particularly hungry. There
was also a glass of water, which I drank.
Having finished what I could of my meal, I wondered what
to do with the plate and glass. Just at that moment, Jem re-
appeared, collected the remnants of my meal, wished me a
gruff "good evening" and left. I heard the door close with a
thump, followed by a softer click which I realized was a lock
being turned.
I sat in the room - perhaps cell would have been a better
description - alone with my own thoughts, wondering about

148 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


my sister and what I should do. Should I rip her away from
her own world, the only one she knew, and bring her to a
place where everything and everyone would be strange and
different? Or was the oppression of this place, which seemed
to have seeped into my very bones in the few hours I had
been here, worth the risk of culture-shock?
The room gradually darkened; the sun was setting. I had
nothing to do and in any case no light to do it by. No-one
had thought to bring me a candle, although there might have
been some kind of lighting if only I could have worked out
how to switch it on. Finally, bored to tears and feeling
depressed beyond measure, I undressed in the very last of
the daylight - placing the clothing carefully on the chair,
rather than tossing it aside for the PA to sort out - and
slipped between the cold scratchy sheets of the bed. I had
never felt so unsexy in my entire long life.
I knew that in order to complete my secret mission -
there was something decidedly and unexpectedly romantic,
in an old-fashioned kind of way, about that description - I
would have to remote the capsule embedded deep, so very
deep, inside me by Lyanne during that energetic sex session
not so long ago. I have to be very, very excited to be that
open and, right now, that was a long way from that.
I lay under the cold bedclothes and thought about that
time with Leanne and Dragon. I thought about my friend
Renie and her wonderfully sexy bisexual appearance. I
thought about many of those fun-filled encounters at the
Chromium Shaft Club. Somehow, all that - all my own world
- seemed so far away; so remote, distant, almost as if I
could not bring myself to believe that it was really real.
Finally, I found myself thinking about Selene, my half-
sister. Although I had barely even touched her, I had
detected an incredible sexual warmth coming from her. I felt
as if there was practically nothing preventing her from
reaching out to me, running her hands over my face and
neck and breasts, and exploring with increasing urgency the
openings between my breasts and between my legs.
As I was thinking these sexy thoughts, I realized I had
instinctively begun to run my hands over my breasts and
explore the soft opening between them. It seemed to be
getting warmer in the bed - it was probably just me - and I

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 149


threw off the constraining covers and lay naked on the
mattress.
I slid my hands down over my own belly and between my
legs. To my surprise, but more to my entire delight, I found
myself wet and open, my pussy lips already moist under my
own insistent fingertips. I curved my body and curled up my
legs, tucking the backs of my knees behind my arms,
grateful that I was so flexible - although plenty of other
people have been grateful of my flexibility, too.
I pressed the tips of my fingers and my thumb together,
forming a cone. Slowly, I eased my hand inside me, while I
stimulating my clit with the fingers of my other hand. I was
fucking myself with my fist, my lips closed around my wrist.
the pleasure was intense - and just a little pain, too - and I
knew I would come soon. I suppressed my cries as best I
could; I did not want the sudden attentions of my gaolers
just at this precise moment.
With a final pressing effort, I could feel the precious
sphere between my fingertips. It came loose as I came, my
orgasm hard, my muscles rippling powerfully against my
wrist. I swiftly withdrew my hand from inside me, a cry
escaping my lips despite my best efforts at silence. My
convulsions spurted the container and an astonishing amount
of my own juices over the rumpled white sheet on which I
was laying.
Success, finally - twice-fold. I felt a lot happier after that
orgasm - much closer to my normal horny self - and I had
got that precious container from inside me.
Part 4
I lay on the hard narrow bed panting for a few moments
before I sat up. I took the little sphere in my hand and held
it up, just visible in the wisps and traces of light that came in
through the little barred window of my cell. Even in that
light, I could make out the swirling movement of the
pervasive automation all over its surface.
I had just started wondering how I was supposed to open
it - this had not been part of the briefing that Dragon had
given me - when all of a sudden the device split apart, one
segment falling from my hand onto the bedclothes. I
thought I might have seen some movement, something

150 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


emerging from its containment, although whatever it was, it
was gone so swiftly that I could easily have imagined it.
Then the two halves of the sphere, one on the bed and the
other still nestling in my palm, disintegrated and disappeared
into nothing.
"Help me," I said softly, almost only mouthing the words,
"Help me take Selene away with me."
Silence, no movement or activity that I could detect.
Dragon had warned me that the automation's behavior would
be unpredictable at this time, as it sought to balance
carrying out my wishes with its limited resources and its
understanding of the world around it. After a minute or so, a
sign appeared, brightly visible in the air in my direct line of
vision.
"Wait one hour" the glowing yellow letters read. Then the
sign suddenly flicked out.
I shrugged in the darkness. I had no option but to go
along with the terse instruction. At the time, I wondered
what the wait was for. Perhaps there was some action that
PA needed to undertake to make itself ready or maybe it was
to do with the disposition of the guards outside or something
else in the surrounding area. I could not know. Impatiently,
I lay down on the bed and pulled the covers back over me.
Perhaps I slept a little, or at least dozed, as it seemed
only a few moments later that I was awakened by a repeated
buzzing, the sound projected directly into my ears by the
automation. I opened my eyes. A sign in the same yellow
letters read: "Dress."
I slipped from under the covers and found my clothing on
the chair where I had left it. I fumbled with the unfamiliar
clothes in the dark, trying several orientations for the blouse
and putting the voluminous knickers on backwards at the
first attempt. Finally, I was ready. An arrow lit up by the
door and I moved as quietly as I could to the entrance.
There was a soft click, which I imagined was the automation
operating the mechanical lock.
More letters appeared in mid-air: "Quiet. Open the door."
I pulled the door inwards as carefully as I could. There
was a guard outside my prison door, a man I did not
recognise although his clothing - and beard! - seemed

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 151


entirely familiar. He sat on a rough wooden stool with his
back to the wall, fast asleep. He did not stir as I slipped past
him. I could imagine that perhaps the PA had somehow
made him unconscious, or maybe we had been waiting until
he fell asleep on his own.
"Shut the door."
I set off at a fast walk to Selene's residence, the direction
indicated by the PA's arrows, although I was pretty sure I
could have found my way unaided. Around me, the darkness
was near-absolute, with just a few lamps burning yellow in
the distance. Even so, I did not stumble or fall; the
automation seemed to be providing some kind of ghostly
blue lighting, enough for me to see by, or perhaps the PA
was projecting an enhanced view of the night-shrouded
surroundings directly onto my eyeballs.
I did not see a single person as I made my way stealthily
through the sleepy township, even though I would have
thought the grounds would have been patrolled at night.
The PA - which must have been expertly programmed - was
choosing a route to minimize the changes of encountering
anyone as well as providing guidance and opening locks on
my behalf.
Even so, I was still required to do things myself - open
and close doors, for example - rather than finding this was
carried out silently and efficiently by the automation. The PA
must have a limited capability, I concluded, as only a small
quantity of the automation could have been contained in the
tiny sphere I had concealed inside me.
It was not long before I arrived at the door of Selene's
house. The PA flashed "Wait" and I stood for a few moments
in the deep shadow cast by the roofed veranda, which
seemed to have lost its squeak this evening. There was a
soft click from the door lock. Unprompted, I carefully pushed
the door open - there was no sound from the latch or hinges
- slipped inside, and noiselessly shut the door behind me.
Dragon's briefing suggested that people here normally
slept on the upper floor, so I stepped carefully along the little
passageway and made my way up the stairs. Again, no
sound, no squeaks of stressed timber joints. I realized that
the PA must be working to suppress the sounds of my
movements.

152 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


There were two rooms at the top of the house. One had
the door wide open, and was obviously unoccupied; the
other's door was ajar. I pushed it open - again, no noise
from the hinges - and moved over to sit on the edge of the
bed, next to Selene's sleeping form.
I shook Selene gently on the shoulder. She sat up
suddenly, clutching the bedclothes to her chest. She was
wearing some kind of shapeless nightdress that covered her
from neck to - I would later discover - ankles.
"Who's there?" she asked tremulously.
"It's me, Tania," I replied softly.
The room was suddenly bathed in a more normal-looking
- although still dim - light, no doubt projected by the PA.
"How did you get in?" she demanded, looking startled at
my sudden appearance.
"I snuck in to see you," I replied simply.
"But how did you get out of the guest house?"
"The prison? Well, I have some help," I laughed, waving
my hand vaguely in the air to indicate the source-less
lighting, "Some hidden machinery supplied by a friend."
Selene looked at me askance. I shivered slightly,
suddenly feeling chilled after the stress of my exertions. She
sat up further and drew me close to her, throwing some of
her bed covers over me so that we were almost in bed
together, even though both of us were effectively fully
clothed. She reached up and held my face in her hands.
"I thought you were a dream," she said softly, hesitantly,
then kissed me quickly on the lips, "I'm so glad you're real.
But what are you doing here?"
She looked suddenly anxious, scanning the bedroom as if
expecting to see Jem or Jacob standing in the shadows.
"I've come to take me away with me," I replied, holding
her close, "If you want to, of course."
"Oh!" Her eyes opened wide again, "You mean - go
now?"
"Yes. They might catch us," I warned, "Which might well
be bad for me, but it would be much worse for you."

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 153


"I don't care," she replied defiantly, "They can beat me
but I want to give it a try."
"If you're sure," I said, taking both her hands in mine and
looking into her eyes.
She nodded quickly, finality in her every movement.
"Get dressed," I said, slipping out form under the covers,
"Quickly."
She complied, tugging off the long nightdress, allowing
me a glimpse of her womanly form, still trim and curvaceous
even after all her unaided years. She dressed with the
swiftness of long practice, and it was only a minute or two
before she was lacing her shoes.
"Okay," I said softly, "Time to go."
Part 5
The night was as pitch-black as before, relieved only by a
few lanterns that glimmered in the distance. The automation
was still showing an enormous yellow arrow directly in my
eye-line, urgently flashing on and off and indicating that we
should go right. I took Selene by the arm. She was still
fiddling in some obscure fashion with her garments, as if it
was really important at this time.
"Come on," I hissed in her ear, "Go right. Keep close to
me."
We slipped out of the door and over the boards of the
sidewalk in front of the house, hugging the shadows. I
expected them to creak noisily, but they were strangely
silent. The automation must be working overtime to ensure
that our movements were not heard. We hopped off the
sidewalk and scurried behind the buildings, still following the
direction signs flashed up by the PA.
I imagined that the automation was doing its best to
make us invisible was well. The heavy clothing might be
sweaty and constricting, but the dark colors meant that, for
the most part, we would not be standing out. The
automation only had to mask our faces and we would be
effectively invisible to all but the closest observer.

154 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


"Where are we going?" Selene whispered, as we paused
to peer nervously around the edge of another darkened
building.
"We're getting out of here," I replied softly, urging her
forward, "Just follow me."
"But this path leads to the lake!" she insisted.
I did not know this, of course, but there was no time to
explain anything now. We hurried onwards, partially hidden
by the fences and garden sheds that delineated the
vegetable plots and kitchen gardens which surrounded each
homestead in the compound.
The gardens ended a little before the point where the the
boundary fence and its ramparts came down to the lake side.
There was no obvious means of escape, other than
attempting to swim - which I was certainly in no position to
try. Besides, I was sure that there would be hidden, sunken
barriers and traps which would impede, perhaps fatally, any
attempt to leave by that route.
The moon chose this moment to emerge from the clouds.
Even so, the automation was insistent and led us to an
unremarkable section of the fence perhaps twenty meters
from the water's edge. I followed the arrows, with Selene
tagging along right behind me, until we were both hidden in
shadow below the guard's walkway above our heads.
The automation's directions flickered out for a moment,
causing me to gasp nervously. Then, an arrow appeared,
indicating what looked like a knothole in the stout timbers of
the fence. On and off, on and off, flickered the automation.
Eventually, I took the hint and stuck a finger gingerly into
the hole that was being so very insistently pointed out to me.
There was a click, and a small section of the fence swung
outwards on smooth invisible hinges. The doorway was low
and narrow, with barely enough room for us to pass though.
My eyes widened, I’m sure, and Selene's face was a picture
of astonishment, her own eyes bright in the sudden
moonlight.
"Come on!" I whispered urgently at Selene.
She slipped through, followed closely by myself. I paused
only for long enough to bump the hidden door closed with

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 155


my ass. The automation was pointing the way again,
directing us along a barely visible path along the edge of the
lake, mostly concealed by trees and bushes - in stark
contrast to the brutally cleared swathe that was to be found
on the outside of the fence elsewhere, I had noted.
We scurried down the path, I allowed myself to think for
one brief moment that we had managed to get away
undetected. But just then, a harsh voice sounded from
behind us, an urgent alarm mingled with surprise.
"Run," I shouted to Selene, "Keep close. Don't look
back."
There was a series of sharp cracks from behind us.
"They're shooting at us!" Selene cried.
I had not recognized the sound of gunfire until sensed a
bullet tearing through the undergrowth not two meters from
where I was. I ran on, as fast as I could, trailed by Selene.
We were being followed, I was sure of it, and I could not tell
where we were or how far we had to go. Amongst the
shouts, I thought I could pick out the sound of the
Reverend's voice, issuing instructions that seemed at once
impossible and contradictory.
Bodies came crashing through the woods behind me. The
PA's urgent arrow showed that we should leave the path
right here, and I dragged Selene bodily sideways into the
undergrowth. We pressed on together, leaves and branches
brushing against my face and arms and legs. I did what I
could to shield Selene from the ravages of the foliage, relying
on my own tough skin to deflect the worst of their effects.
Quite suddenly, I thought I recognized where we were,
even without the intervention of the PA. In the bright
moonlight, I realized that this was the lake at which I had
enjoyed a picnic with my friends not so long ago and - the
connection made me gasp aloud even as I ran - where I had
glimpsed the Reverend masturbating in the bushes.
The yellow arrows that had been subliminally guiding me
all this time abruptly disappeared. I confess I was
immensely relived. During his briefing, Dragon had told me
that his special automation was programmed to deactivate,
to destroy itself as soon as we had passed over the edge of
the No Nanotechnology Zone and were safe.

156 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


Simultaneously, the pursuers seemed to fade into the
distance. We had either outrun them, or they had been
discouraged from following us further by the normal PA's
protective police action, or at least the threat of that action.
I slowed to a stop and tried to catch my breath, catching
Selene as she stumbled behind me.
"It's OK," I said, between gasps, "It's OK, we're safe now.
Catch your breath."
Selene coughed and panted for a few long moments.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Yes, I am. But we need to press on. We've a way
to go yet."
She nodded her acceptance, with not even enough breath
to speak again. We walked on slowly, picking our way
among the trees. The automation, now in normal operation,
was able to provide us with a degree of illumination, enough
so that we could avoid the foliage for the most part. I
followed the guidance of my Mapz(TM) subscription which
increasingly gelled with my own memory of this area, and
which led us to the roadway where our bus had delivered our
party for that fun lakeside picnic in the sun.
There was nothing to be seen on the road now, just a
dark tunnel made by the trees and fitfully illuminated by the
automation. The Mapz(TM) began to indicate a route to
make our way to Dragon's house, although it would be a long
walk to the nearest metro station. Selene was flagging
visibly, looking completely exhausted and now barely able to
put one foot in front of another. I was feeling winded too,
and I was beginning to wonder about finding somewhere to
rest for a while.
Fortunately, we were collected after just a few minutes by
Dragon's car. The vehicle slid to a stop just a few meters
away, its lights dimmed and the door hissed open. Dragon
was not present and the car was operating, as usual,
automatically.
"Here's our ride," I said to Selene reassuringly, although I
was not sure she had even heard me.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 157


She collapsed on the carpet inside the car, falling deeply
asleep immediately. All I could do was my best to make her
comfortable while we were whisked back to Dragon's house.

158 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


Volume 13 – Club Sandwich

Part 1
The car eased quietly up to the ornate front door of
Dragon's house. Brandon himself appeared at the entrance
as we arrived, and ducked his head inside the vehicle as
soon as its door had hissed open.
"How is she?" he asked.
I was not entirely sure myself. Selene seemed to be
resting comfortably, sprawled flat on her back on the -
admittedly, extremely comfortable - floor of the car, and
breathing deeply and evenly. I shook her shoulder gently
and spoke into her ear, but she neither woke up nor reacted
appreciably.
"I expected this," Dragon said softly, reaching past me to
gently ease my sister from the car.
"What's wrong with her," I asked, panicked by the sudden
thought that Selene might be hurt or unwell for some
reason.
"Nothing's wrong with her - at least, nothing that a little
time won't fix," Dragon replied in a carefully soothing tone of
voice, "But just help me get her inside."
I eased Selene's legs through the car door, then Dragon
picked her up bodily in her arms. She lay limp, head lolling
back, either deeply asleep or completely unconscious. The
front door opened silently as we approached, while the car
closed its door and slipped away, I imagined, to park itself
somewhere out of sight, wherever it normally hid itself away.
Dragon carried Selene inside, into the open-plan living
space at the top of the house. A low and comfortable-
looking bed had been set up - all pristine white linen
bedclothes - with the covers pulled back and pillows plumped
up. It was set close to the floor-to-ceiling windows that

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 159


overlooked the flood-lit lawns and the pool, flanked by banks
of trees and hedges in the distance.
He laid her down on the mattress and gently removed her
clothes with almost no assistance from the PA. Dragon then
slipped her under the covers, tucking her in with a wonderful
display of tenderness. He stood back, hands on his hips and
looked at his other daughter for a long moment. Then he
turned, took me gently by the arm and let me to one side.
"She's lived nearly forty years without the medical
attention of the automation," he explained, "There has been
nothing to repair the everyday degradations of her body's
cellular structure. That's why she had those lines on her
face, and the grey in her hair - why she looks old, even
though she hundreds of years younger than me and you."
He looked again at the sleeping beauty across the room.
"The PA is working her over at a cellular level," he
continued, "Reversing the effects of that decay. So, she'll
sleep a lot for the next day or two, and she'll be very hungry
too."
I nodded in understanding.
"There's nothing we can do now except wait," he added,
"so why don't you get yourself cleaned up and change into
something more comfortable?"
Indeed, I did feel both physically grimy and emotionally
dirty after my abusive experiences in the compound and the
woods. I was still wearing most of the hot and heavy old-
fashioned clothing I had donned for the trip to the Eden
commune. With a sudden fierce energy, I tore off the white
blouse, now torn and stained, and tossed it aside,
immediately following it with the modest long skirt and the
hateful undergarments. Suddenly I felt better, more myself
- much more the independent and fun-loving individual that I
really am.
"I'm going to take a shower," I said, more forcefully than
I intended.
"Of course," Dragon agreed, smiling in an avuncular
fashion and indicating the direction to the bathroom.

160 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


Twenty minutes later, I was showered, dried and had
carefully massaged oil into the skin on my arms and legs. I
was just finishing up when Dragon appeared in the doorway.
"Let me help you with that," he suggested.
I nodded. I was more than happy to let him rub more oil
on my leathery epidermis under my breasts and on my back.
It felt so good to be clean and pampered again, but I wasn't
yet feeling at all horny. Dragon must have sensed this, as
he held a large toweling robe open for me to slip into. I felt
warmed and comforted, enveloped by the soft folds of the
material.
Together we sat at a table just inside the glass wall and
allowed the automation to bring us food and drink. I was
hungry too, and demolished most of my sandwich in
seconds. My appetite assuaged, I told Dragon in a low voice
what had happened to me inside the Commune. He
interrupted only twice, once to clarify that it was the
Reverend himself who had "purged me of sin" in his office,
and once to confirm my route around the lakeside to the
picnic area.
Dragon got up and crossed to a cupboard, and came back
with a bottle of what I would shortly discover was an
extremely good bottle of whiskey. While I had been
watching him, the PA had placed two old-fashioned heavy
glass tumblers on the table. He poured a generous measure
into each one.
"I can never express my thanks to you enough," he said
formally, raising his glass in a toast.
I accepted the toast wordlessly, raising my own glass in
response. I sipped the whiskey, which was warming in my
throat, and washed it down with a morsel of the rich dark
chocolate that had appeared with the glasses. I yawned and
stretched.
"You should stay here, too," Dragon said, "You look worn
out."
I suddenly realized I felt desperately tired, my exertions
having completely exhausted me. It would be dawn in a few
hours.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 161


"You should sleep there," Dragon suggested, indicating a
second made-up bed that had appeared as if by magic a few
meters from my sister, "I'll keep an eye on Selene."
I could barely keep my own eyes open. I tottered over to
the bed and collapsed into it, barely finding the energy to
remove the toweling robe. I was asleep in seconds.
Part 2
By the time I awoke, it was already mid-morning. The
sun streaming in through the windows lit up the bright and
airy room. Now I felt fully alive and positively buzzing with
energy; the PA had evidently been working on me whilst I
slept. I lay back on the heaped pillows, thinking over the
events of the last few days. Somehow, I thought wryly, I
always seem to end up collapsing in exhaustion when I visit
here.
Before I got around to getting up, I sensed a movement
from the other bed. Selene's blonde head - now much more
radiantly blonde than it had been yesterday - emerged from
the covers.
"Good morning, sleepy-head," I called gaily, "How do you
feel this morning?"
She sat up suddenly in alarm, looking around wildly and
holding the covers up to her neck.
"I was wondering if it was all a dream," she said, in tones
which combined relief and amazement in equal measure,
"But I'm glad I really am here."
She looked at her own hands, which were still clutching
the bedclothes at her throat. Her eyes widened, and she
dropped the sheets - incidentally exposing her breasts - as
she turned over her hands, inspecting them closely. She
took a fragment of her hair between her fingers and looked
at it amazed, tugging a blonde lock through the space
between her fingers again and again.
Half-smiling, Selene sat up straight and ran her hands
over her breasts and her belly, admiring - as I was - the taut
muscles around her waist and stomach, and the flawless skin
on arms and neck and face. I particularly enjoyed viewing
her pert nipples and full round tits, their pale skin set off by
large and contrastingly dark nipples which just begged to be

162 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


sucked. She started in surprise and then stared into space
as the automation produced a virtual mirror in front of her so
that she could see her own face and hair and body.
"So it is true what they say," she said, her voice shaking
with emotion, "This world makes you look young - and feel
young too. And I cannot see how this is the work of Satan."
"You look lovely," I assured her, "Truly wonderful."
I swung myself out of bed and stood up, stretched
luxuriously, then took the few steps over to Selene's bed and
sat casually on the edge of it. I twisted around and smiled
widely at her, but was startled to see her staring at me.
"What are you?" she gasped, shrinking back from me and
clutching the sheets to her chest again, "You're not human!"
I suddenly realized that, up until now, Selene had never
seen any part of my body other than my face and hands, so
she had no idea what Kind I actually was.
"Honey, relax," I said, taking her hands in mine, "I'm as
human as you are. It's just that I'm a different Kind of
human."
She was still looking at me wild-eyed.
"Look," I said reassuringly, taking one of her hands and
putting it on my thigh, just at the point where the soft Norm
skin met the shiny leather-look lower section, "This is all me,
all real. It's just the way I was made, before I was born. Of
course, I have thoughts and feelings and emotions like
anyone else, and my body's not really that different - just a
few enhancements for extra fun."
Selene ran her hand up and down my leg - I enjoyed the
sensation, of course - over the smooth seam in my skin.
She explored the similar joins at my wrist and upper arm,
marveling at the way the different textures changed. Then
she noticed my second vagina, the soft pink lips which nestle
between my breasts, and her face looked shocked again.
"I have two," I explained, taking her fingers gently and
pressing them first against the pussy between my tits and
the vagina between my legs.
After a few moments, she withdrew her hand and stared
into the distance for a while. I was unsure whether she was

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 163


reading something projected by the automation, or just deep
in thought.
"Sorry," she said, looking genuinely contrite, "I guess I
should have expected this kind of thing."
I smiled and, on a whim, slipped into her bed next to her.
She shifted over to accommodate me, although the size of
the bed meant that we were touching at hip and shoulder.
Selene twisted to look at me, eyes downcast.
"What I should really be doing," she said slowly, "is
thanking you, for rescuing me from that terrible place."
With my free hand, I lifted her chin and kissed her full on
the lips.
"I was my pleasure," I said, adding cheekily, "Or, at least,
I suspect it soon will be."
She looked at me with some mixture of confusion and
delight.
"Let's go shower," I suggested playfully, throwing back
the covers and exposing both our naked bodies.
I could now see that my sister had smoothly rounded hips
and the same flawless pale skin on her long shapely legs
with a delectable split mound between them. She was
completely shaved there, presumably performed by the PA -
having inferred that this was the way she preferred it.
I took Selene by the hand and led her to the large and
well-equipped shower room just off the main open-plan living
area. Even though she had got over the initial surprise and
shock, she was still completely fascinated with my body,
looking intensely at my back and ass as I opened the cubicle
door.
"Come on then," I enthused, "In we go."
She hesitated for a second, then followed me in. The
water turned itself on automatically, at a temperature chosen
precisely by the PA to be most comfortable for both of us.
"Let me soap you," I suggested.
Selene nodded, and I see about rubbing her back, and
then her breasts and her ass and thighs. Sle clearly enjoyed

164 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


the attention, and every reaction on her face and in her body
told me she wanted to feel more of my hands, my fingers.
"We mustn't do this," she said earnestly, suddenly taking
my hands in hers and lifting them from her body.
"Why not?" I said, "I know you want to. I want to. No-
one's going to stop us, and certainly no-one's going to
disapprove."
"But what if someone's watching?" she insisted, "Surely
anyone could be observing us right now, using this magical
automation."
"What if they are?" I replied, grinning lustfully at her, "In
fact, we should put on a good show just in case someone is!"
Her face lit up at the happy, naughty thought. I bent
forward to suck on her left nipple, the water from the shower
cascading from my back for a moment before the automation
shut it off. I could hear her gasp even over the rush of the
water, her moans of pleasure increasing as I moved my
mouth to her other breast.
I ran an exploratory finger between her legs, between her
pussy lips. She was already wet, and she evidently enjoyed
my attentions on her clit. I was rapidly able to bring her to
orgasm, her head jerked back hard and nearly banging on th
shower wall. She did her best to reciprocate, although I was
soon fairly convinced that she had never played with a pussy
before - except her own, of course.
In the end, I polished myself off with swift circular
motions on my own clit while Selene fucked me
enthusiastically but inexpertly with her fingers. It seemed
like a little sex education would be required very shortly.
Part 3
After our sex in the shower, Selene and I emerged and
dried each other off using a varied collection of fluffy white
towels the automation had laid out for us. I tried out a few
more caresses of her ass and breasts and, to my entire
delight, she returned the touch, kissing me warmly on the
lips while separating my fanny cheeks with both her hands.
"You know," I said, disengaging from the kiss with a fair
degree of reluctance and slapping her gently on the rump, "I
really think you'll like it here. And I also think, if you're

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 165


anything like me, that after a good sleep and a little playful
sex, you'll now be incredibly hungry."
Her face lit up.
"You do understand, don't you," she said, with an
expression compounded of wistfulness and satisfaction, "I'm
so glad you came for me."
We ate breakfast together, sat at a small table on the
terrace overlooking the lawns and the pool. My sister was
entirely amazed at the way the food that she wanted
seemingly materialized out of thin air - "like magic", she
said. I explained again about the pervasive automation,
about how it was built with a deep knowledge of the needs
and desires of humans of all Kinds, augmented by near-
omniscient observation, and therefore capable of
instantaneous prediction and delivery. This time, perhaps
she was beginning to believe what I said.
Sis ate an astonishing amount, new plates heaped with
the foods she enjoyed appearing regularly. Presumably her
appetite was the result of a need to fuel the repairs the PA
was making to her body. By contrast, I picked at my food -
although I certain ate a good deal more than normal for me.
After we had finished eating, we sat at the table together
for a long time while it was cleared unobtrusively by the
automation. She told me more about her life, her family:
how she was brought up in the strict faith of the commune
by her mother, now long dead of old age, and the man she
had married in church - I had the automation provide me
with a concise definition of this term - twenty years ago.
Her husband was also now dead, after an accident with
some kind of mill machinery that confused and distressed me
immensely. I was horrified to hear about people dying, no
longer existing, the reality of death brought home to me
much more than the warnings - at the time, seemingly
abstracted - that Dragon had issued before I visited the
commune.
Selene also told me about her desire to have a family, to
bear children herself. To her distress and for some reason
she did not - or could not - explain, she was not able to get
pregnant, although she did hint that she suspected the fault
was with her husband. It seemed that he was rarely able to

166 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


perform at all and was never even barely satisfactory "in the
bedroom", as she put it.
To compensate, she told she fantasized about encounters
with strangers and neighbors - although had never acted on
those fantasies - and masturbated regularly and vigorously.
She kept about her various tools and objects - all of which
had plausible alternative uses - but whose real purpose was
to assist her in achieving a degree of sexual satisfaction.
I tried to explain about my life, the way the world worked
here. I got the impression that she simply didn't believe half
the things I said, that she thought I was exaggerating, even
showing off for her benefit. I backed off from anything she
did not seem to accept; I did not want to push things right
now - there would be plenty of time for demonstrations later.
By this time, the sun was high in the sky, and it was
getting quite hot, even under the shade of the terrace
parasols. I stretched luxuriously, then suggested a cooling
dip in the swimming pool.
"But I don't have a swimming costume," she objected.
"Well, neither do I," I responded, "But I'm quite sure it's
not in the least bit necessary."
"Oh! Skinny dipping!" she cried, "I've always wanted to
swim naked."
I took her by the hand and together we scampered down
the sun-warned steps to the pool area. Selene rushed
straight into the water, squealing from the coolness, then
swam energetically and confidently but not, as far as I could
tell, with a great deal of technique - not that I'm an expert,
of course. Even so, she seemed to revel in the warm water
and the sunshine, her eyes flashing and her breasts bouncing
when she stood up in the center of the pool. I splashed
about in the shallow end, more to be sociable than anything
else; I was delighted to see my sister so happy and playful.
While we were swimming, Dragon emerged from the
house and made his way down the same steps. On this
occasion he was not wearing his trademark Kimono, but was
quite naked except for a folded towel that he had evidently
thrown casually over one shoulder and which concealed,
basically, nothing at all. Selene saw him approaching, and

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 167


swam up to sit next to me on the steps that led down to the
shallow end of the pool.
"Who's that?" she asked in a low voice, her face alight
with lustful interest, "He's gorgeous."
"Our host. Why don't you go and say hello," I suggested
mischievously.
She looked shocked, frozen for a moment. Before she
could decide what to do, Dragon had pre-empted her.
"Good morning, Tania," he said in a friendly fashion, "I
trust you slept well."
I nodded grinning. He turned to my sister.
"And you must be Selene," he continued, "I'm delighted
to meet you."
Sis was transfixed, her eyes locked on Dragon's dick -
which was nicely impressive, in my experienced opinion - as
if she had never seen one before. There was a short
stillness, then Dragon slid the towel from his shoulders and
bent down, taking Selene by one hand and encouraging her
to stand.
"I can see you have a need, an urgent requirement,"
Dragon said softly in his deep voice, "Let me help you with
that."
My sister seemed to be in a daze, unable to drag her eyes
away from the man's crotch. Dragon led her to the sun-
lounger and guided her to lay back on it, then gently spread
her legs to run his thumbs over her pussy lips.
As he stimulating her clit between the edges of each digit,
she squirmed and cried out, a low animal groan that
conveyed a deep-seated need. Dragon bent forward and
licked at her pussy, causing her to arch her back and reach
down with one hand to hold his head firmly between her
legs. She cried out again and again, rapidly reaching the
orgasm she so desperately craved, despite my best efforts
earlier. She panted for a few moments, looking at Dragon's
face still wedged between her thighs, then rolled over and
knelt on the lounger, spreading her legs wide.
"Take me now," she begged, "Fill me, enter me, now!"

168 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


Dragon needed no further urging. He stood behind her,
his rampant cock stiffening still further as he rubbed the
head over her cunt lips, moistening it so that it glistening in
the sunlight. He then plunged into her, taking her as deeply
and as thoroughly as she obviously wanted.
I sat on the top step of the pool, watching my sister get
the entire length and girth of Dragon’s cock inside her and
idly touching myself, bringing myself off - a willy-nilly - just
as Selene reached her second screaming, shaking orgasm.
Dragon had not finished - I knew from previous experience
just how difficult it was to get him to come - but he politely
withdrew his member. There should be time to enjoy that
cock myself very soon, I thought.
I decided to join them. I stood, dripping pool water - and
a little of my own moisture - on the warm decking and made
my way over to where Selene was still lying on one of the
sun-loungers, grinning at me as I approached. I sat down on
the edge of the lounger and kissed Dragon - enjoying my
sister's taste on his lips - and then Selene.
"I can't tell you how much I needed that," she told me,
licking her own lips libidinously, no doubt also tasting a little
of what I had just experienced.
"Oh, I think I got the idea," I replied, grinning back at
her.
Selene rolled over onto her stomach and kicked up her
heels, supporting her chin in her palms and looked up at
Dragon.
"You know," she said, "I've always fantasized about
having a real cock - a real big, hard cock - inside me like
that."
"Glad you enjoyed it," Dragon said, looking flattered.
"Of course, you can have as many hard cocks as you
want," I chipped in, "And I'll make it my mission to arrange
plenty more for your delectation."
Selene laughed, a happy sound of release and satisfaction
mixed with an appreciation of what the future might hold.
"So what is your name?" she asked Dragon.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 169


"I'm Brendon O'Reilly," Dragon replied in his deep voice,
"I'm your father."
Selene's mouth formed a soundless 'O' of surprise, a look
entirely at odds with her horny attitude a moment before.
Then she smiled, increasingly widely as the realization, the
truth of the situation, sunk in. She looked from Dragon to
me and back again.
"So here, I really can" - she hesitated, then pressed on -
"fuck anyone I want?"
Part 4
"Yes, you can," Dragon confirmed in his deep drawling
voice, "You can fuck anyone who will have you. Any Kind,
any place, any time - and in any numbers and combinations
you fancy. It's one of the delights of the modern world."
He paused, then added, "Personally, I love it!"
He sat up on the sun-lounger suddenly, then stood and
stretched luxuriously, the sunlight glinting off his tanned and
magnificent frame. He turned to face us both.
"Now then, ladies," Dragon said, "We need to make a visit
to the club. I have a favor to ask of the proprietor."
"OK," I agreed, and Selene shrugged her shoulders,
giving the impression she was perfectly happy to tag along
anywhere.
We collected towels and dried off, then strolled up the
gentle slope back to the house. The house was cool and
quiet, the PA having tidied away all the bedding and the few
remnants of our breakfast. Dragon made to go into another
part of the house, then stopped at the door.
"Tania, there's some clothing in the closet near where you
were sleeping," he said, "Perhaps you'd help Selene pick out
something."
"Sure," I agreed perkily.
We took another quick shower, each wrapping ourselves
in a fluffy white towel, then investigated the closet Dragon
had indicated. My own miniskirt and light jacket were
hanging there, cleaned and tidied away by the automation.
After a surprisingly short time, Selene picked out a strappy

170 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


summery print dress in yellows and greens that left her arms
and neck and shoulders bare.
"But what about underwear?" she asked.
"What do you need underwear for?" I responded, eyeing
her up and down, "Your breasts certainly don't need any
support, and I'm sure you'll be much more comfortable
without any kind of constraint elsewhere."
Selene smiled wickedly, then slipped the dress over her
head.
"How do I look?" she asked, twirling girlishly.
"A utter delight," Dragon's voice came before I could
answer, "Are you ready to go?"
We took another trip in Dragon's car, which appeared
automatically at the front door as we emerged. I passed the
time by showing Selene how to suck cock. This was quite a
challenge, given the immense size of Brandon's member now
protruding from another one of the Kimonos he preferred to
wear when he felt clothing was desired. Even so, I thought
that Selene gained the skills really very rapidly, judging by
the reactions on Dragon's face and the stiffness of his dick.
We took it in turns to lick his cock, and to rub it between
our breasts. Dragon was far too big to enter my upper cunt,
but Selene managed to get some of his helmet into her
mouth - hers was just that little bit bigger than mine.
Dragon groaned and writhed for a good fifteen minutes,
finishing with a wild and uncontrolled cry followed by an
immense explosion of cum that caused Selene to screech -
some combination of surprise and delight, I imagined. I
licked the cum off her face and breasts, and we were all
nicely cleaned up by the time we pulled up at the front door
of the Chromium Shaft club.
We exited the vehicle together, Selene still twitching her
dress back into place over her breasts, and strode in.
Directed by a sign from the PA, we turned a sharp right just
inside the main doors and walked up two flights of stairs to
the upper floor area.
Maxine was the proprietor of the Chromium Shaft Club,
and therefore my boss. She was sitting calmly behind the
desk in her office and accompanied, as always, by Kitty, her

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 171


sidekick. Kitty was dressed in the inevitable cat-suit, the
armory of sensory equipment built into the fabric of her
clothing gave her - the Club gossip said - a whole gamut of
enhanced senses not available to those less well-endowed,
not to mention a range of sexual capabilities beyond any un-
augmented Kind I had ever heard of.
"Hello, Dragon," Maxine said, standing up as we followed
Brandon into the room, "What can I do for you?"
"Dragon?" Selene hissed at me.
"It's a nickname," I explained, "Everyone seems to call
him that - even me."
Dragon and Maxine stood close together, speaking very
quietly before exchanging a chaste kiss in the fashion that
indicted clearly that they were two people who would very
much like to fuck each other senseless right this very
moment, but were held apart by some kind of shared history
I knew nothing of. I was tempted to ask the PA, but
demurred: we had other fish to fry - whatever that old-
fashioned expression meant - right now.
"So why are we here?" Selene whispered to me.
Before I could answer, Dragon spoke loud enough for us
all to hear.
"My daughters: Tania you already know," he said to
Maxine, holding out his hand in our direction, "And let me
introduce Selene."
No doubt the PA had already filled the gaps in knowledge
for the proprietor’s benefit.
"I want to throw Selene a party," Dragon explained to
Maxine, then turned to speak directly to Selene herself, "I
want to introduce you to a few people - old friends - by way
of a welcome home. And I want to hold it here at the Club."
"Actually," I said, several naughty thoughts appearing in
my mind, "I suspect that quite a lot of people would like to
get to know you, a lot better and you could do with catching
up."
"What do you mean?" Selene wondered.

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"I think you, and I, should entertain as many people as
we can manage," I elaborated, "Let's hold a gang-bang; an
old-fashioned orgy."
Selene looked delighted, even radiant for a moment,
clearly ferally excited by the prospect, then her face
suddenly, inexplicably, looked sad.
"I don't know whether I can stay," she said, looking from
Dragon to me and back again, "If the Reverend finds me and
asks me back, I'm afraid I'll have to return."
"Why?" I demanded, utterly shocked.
"I promised my mother," she said simply.
In a flash, I realized that we would need to find a way of
making sure that the Reverend did not want Selene back,
that he could never ask her to return, or if he did, she would
not feel compelled to go after all.
"Okay. Well, we will just need to get you in a position
where the Reverend cannot ask you that question," I said.
"How are you going to achieve that?" Selene demanded,
looking both confused and suddenly hopeful.
I grinned broadly at her.
"I think I know exactly how to do it," I replied
mysteriously, "Although it will take a certain amount of
careful management. So, will you just trust me?"
I glanced around at Maxine and Kitty and Brandon,
knowing that the automation would discreetly inform them of
what I had in mind, and why Selene had to remain unaware
of my plan. I hoped she would remain so, which she would
unless she asked the automation explicitly, of course.
"Yes," Selene replied carefully, "Yes, I will trust you."
"Great! We'll want to get a welcome party organized, of
course, but firstly," I said, looking directly at Selene, "We
need to pay a visit. To see a man about a job."

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 173


Volume 14 – But You Can’t Hide

Part 1
We left the Chromium Shaft Club by the staff entrance -
around the back, of course - and walked along the narrow
alley where I had had that strange encounter with the over-
dressed man just a few days ago. I stopped dead, looking
around at the spot where he had tried to grab me. Thinking
back, I began to suspect that the man in the black hat had
something to do with the Eden Commune, or with the
Reverend.
The PA was, as always, ready with an explanation,
prompted by my body language and the flickering
movements of my eyeballs surveying the scene. Words and
pictures flashed in front of my eyes, as if projected on an
invisible screen. They confirmed my suspicions, that he was
indeed from the NNZ I had visited recently, the one from
whence I had liberated Selene.
But the PA could give no clue as to why he had come, or
what he intended to achieve, since any discussion or
planning would have been done inside the Commune and
therefore away from the pervasive monitoring provided by
the automation. I could only speculate that it had something
to do with Dragon's request to visit his daughter or, more
precisely, with his request to let me visit Selene - even
though that was long before he had even suggested the
possibility to me.
I turned around. Selene was looking at me strangely.
"Are you OK" she asked, sounding a shade worried.
"Fine," I replied cheerily, "Just a sudden thought. No
problem. Let’s go."
I slipped my arm through hers, and we set off jauntily
together along the sidewalk in the sunshine.

174 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


I had decided to drop in at my apartment since it was
quite close to the Club and on the way to the Metro station.
I wanted to change my clothing - something a little more
special was called for, I considered - and I thought that
Selene might like to borrow something from my wardrobe,
too.
We scampered up the stairs of the apartment building and
flung open the door of the little apartment I share with my
dear friend Renie. She was in, on her own, evidently trying
on a variety of clothes from her wardrobe and some out of
mine, too, I could see. As we entered, she was twirling
around, no doubt admiring her outfit - a tight halter top and
a school-girl pleated miniskirt - in front of a virtual mirror
projected by the automation.
"Tania!" she squealed, "There you are! I was beginning
to wonder what you're up to - and who you're up to it with."
Her greeting struck me as if I had been away for a month,
rather than a couple of nights.
"And who's this?" she added archly, looking over my
shoulder at Selene, "A new friend?"
I grinned, looking from one girl to the other.
"Renie," I said mock-formally, "Let me introduce Selene,
my half-sister. Selene, my flat-mate Renie."
"Sister?" Renie queried, "I didn't know you had a sister."
"It's a long story," I replied.
We three girls sat together on the large futon that
occupies a surprisingly large amount of the space in our little
apartment. I told Renie a little about my recent adventures,
a short-form version of the party at Mom's, and meeting
Dragon, and my trip to the Eden Commune, with
interjections from Selene whenever I tried to down-play my
part in the proceedings. Meanwhile, the PA - sensing our
needs even before we were consciously aware of them -
presented us with a selection of snacks and nibbles, each
plate tailored to our own tastes and preferences.
Having eaten their fill, Renie and Selene lay back against
the small mountain of pillows at the bed-head, while I sat
cross-legged at the foot of the bed. I could see that Renie
was interested in taking things further with Selene - I have

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 175


seen that look on her face too often to count - and I was
pretty sure that Selene was feeling horny too. I coughed, to
attract their attention back to me for a moment.
"Now that Selene's here, I need to do a couple of things,"
I started, "Firstly, I'm going to arrange a little welcome
party, to introduce my new-found sister to my friends.
Madamae Maxine's offered us the use of a room at the Club."
Renie's eyes lit up at the thought.
"Am I invited?" she asked.
"Of course, Darling. I wouldn't want it without you," I
replied reassuringly, then continued, "Secondly, we will need
to go away for a while, somewhere where the Reverend can't
find us. So I'll need some money."
"How are you going to get that?" Renie inquired, "Ask for
a loan from your Mom, or this Dragon."
"Oh, that won't be necessary," I replied airily, "I'll just do
a few delivery jobs for Johnny. That should see us through
for a while."
Renie nodded, her attention already returning to the
curvaceous blonde next to her.
"But we don't have to rush right now, do we?" Selene
said, with a plaintive tone in her voice, "I've not really got to
know your friend yet."
I grinned wryly, looking at the two sexy people at the
other end of my bed, running their hands over each others
breasts and kissing passionately.
"There's no rush," I replied generously, "Take your time."
Inevitably, Selene's hands wandered down below Renie's
waist and under the short skirt she was still wearing. As she
reached between Renie's legs, Selene gasped suddenly and
started to jerk her hand back. Renie caught her wrist gently.
"It's all right, Honey," she purred, "It's not anything you
won't have seen before."
Renie flicked up her skirt and opened her legs wider,
revealing the petite but perfectly formed penis I was so very
familiar with.
"You're a man," Sis cried out, her eyes wide.

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Renie laughed aloud.
"No, Honey," she said, "I've got everything a girl's got,
and then some!"
Renie guided Selene's hand down over her rampant cock
and to her pussy lips, showing her the increasingly moist
opening she had where a Norm male would have balls.
"You lucky girl!" Selene exclaimed.
She reached down with her other hand to rub Renie's cock
while slipping a finger inside her. It was Renie's turn to
gasp, this time with pleasure as Selene's nimble and
sensitive fingers explored her most intimate places.
I could see these two were going to get one well. I drew
out my favorite toy, a large pink dildo, from behind the
cushions and moistened it lavishly in my mouth, before
firmly affixing the sucker cup to the floor. While I watched
Renie receiving the full attention of Selene's tongue on both
penis and pussy, I squatted down pressing the familiar tip of
the toy between my legs.
Another afternoon playtime at home. I was glad to be
back.
Part 2
Steve turned up at our flat while Selene and Renie were
fucking and I was masturbating, squatting over my dildo
while watching the two of them getting much better
acquainted.
"New friend?" he asked Renie laconically, after standing
and watching the three of us for a while with his hand inside
his retro-look blue jeans.
Renie looked up from her task of sucking on Selene's clit,
delighting in taking that soft but oh-so-sensitive
protuberance between her lips and teeth. She grinned at her
boyfriend.
"Hi Steve," she said, licking her lips, "This is Selene,
Tania's new-found sister."
"Who's that?" Selene asked, attempting to sit up and
glancing at Steve anxiously as if she was about to be the
object of the man's anger.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 177


I must admit I was a little distracted at this time,
pounding up and down on my toy while working my clit
furiously with my own saliva. I was working my way up to a
tidy orgasm, the kind that would pleasure me greatly while
making me desperate for several more. It's just the way I'm
made, I guess.
By the time I could even think about speaking coherently,
Renie had re-assured Selene and both of them were smiling
again.
"Just you relax, Honey," she told her, "Steve always likes
to watch."
Renie pressed Selene gently back down onto the futon
and resumed her interrupted cunnilingus. Steve's dick was
by now protruding from his clothing, the bulging fabric
having split open by the kind attentions of the automation.
"You two seem to be busy," he said laconically, "Perhaps I
should get Tania to entertain me for a while."
"Uh-huh," Renie replied.
She was already visibly distracted by Selene who had
swung around and was now tonguing her cunt lips, her head
on one side and the tangled disarray of her hair falling over
Renie's thighs. I was impressed by the way Selene had
managed to set a smooth coordinated rhythm of her tongue
on Renie's pussy lips while wanking her hard dick to a
different, but equally exciting tempo. There was every risk
that Renie would cum on the other girl's hair very soon.
By now, Steve had rapidly stripped off his clothes and
resumed his masturbation, while I returned my attention to
my dildo. I knew Steve's preferences well: he likes to watch,
and he likes to be in complete control of his own orgasms.
He moved to a spot where he could watch both me, and
Renie and Selene with minimal movements of his head. I
put on a good show for him, again bouncing hard on my toy.
I knew I would come again very soon, and the cries
emanating from Renie and Selene - she was fucking her hard
from behind now - suggested that they were both close to a
powerful release. Steve recognized the moment, too, and
moved to first fuck in my mouth and then in my upper cunt,
before coming explosively over my face and breasts. I
achieved that second orgasm almost at the same moment,

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not even having taken the dildo from inside me in the
meantime.
A little while later, all four of us were lying together on
the mattress. Now that she had thought about it some
more, Selene was still curious about what I have in mind for
her.
"I need to take you away," I explained, "Far away from
this area - somewhere where the Reverend and his
henchmen cannot track you down."
This was a flat lie - something I could not possibly have
got away with most people, who would have instinctively -
subliminally, even - checked with the PA for verification,
though I thought I could rely on her naivety for the time
being.
"We should take every opportunity to enjoy ourselves
while we are still around," I continued, "But we do need to
go and talk to a man about a job."
I had already sent a message asking to meet Johnny. He
had responded almost immediately, accepting my invitation.
"So it's time we were off," I said, bouncing from the futon
with a sudden burst of energy which took Selene and the
others by surprise.
She tossed her tousled blonde locks and smiled.
"Okay, let's go."
We took a quick refreshing shower together, leaving Renie
and Steve dozing together, and dressed both of us rapidly
with items from my wardrobe. I chose one of my miniskirt
and sleeveless top combinations, while Selene decided on
another flowing summery robe.
It was then just a brisk walk to the Metro station and a
short trip across town to meet Johnny. The Metro was
practically empty and Selene and I sat quietly together,
chatting softly, still enveloped in that rosy post-orgasmic
glow which I always find lasts for a little while and then
leaves me wanting more sex, much more.
Part 3
The place I had agreed to meet Johnny was the same
downtown Starbucks I had visited before. I was beginning to

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 179


suspect that he uses the place as a kind of office for
whatever business he undertakes. Selene and I paused for a
few moments to admire the knee-length golden Reel Fur(TM)
coat in the shop window next door.
"Do you like it?" I asked Selene.
"Oh yes," she replied, her head on one side as she
inspected the garment closely, "Such lovely colors. It would
really suit you."
When we entered the 'Bucks, Johnny was occupying a
semi-circular banquette at the back of the shop. He was
accompanied by the same cool Dollface, still smoking a
cigarette with the same long holder and the same disdainful
expression. She wore a different dress: this one was sheer
and strapless (of course), colored a deep shade of crimson,
slit to the navel and to the waist from top and bottom
respectively, and displayed a substantial fraction of one of
her long and slender legs. The foot at the end of the visible
leg, and no doubt the other too, was decorated by a different
pair of glitteringly expensive-looking and teeteringly high-
heeled shoes.
By unspoken agreement, Selene and I split up as we
approached, me moving to sit next to Johnny on one side
and Sis sliding in alongside the Dollface. Johnny turned to
acknowledge me as I sat down, removing his hand from
between his companion's thighs and sniffing at his manicured
fingertips.
Selene was completely struck by the tall doll-faced
woman, looking up at her mass of tousled blonde ringlets
with her mouth open. It must have been something from
her background and upbringing, I suppose, but she just
could not drag her eyes away.
"Wow," she said, in a hushed voice, "You look gorgeous -
absolutely beautiful."
The Dollface's chilly demeanor warmed several degrees at
this compliment and her face eased into an ironic lopsided
smile.
"Well, Honey, you sure know how to appreciate a lady,"
she drawled, looking at the petite woman next to her with
increasing appreciation.

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"Say, Dollface," Johnny said laconically, "Tania and me,
we need to have a little chat. Why don't you entertain her
friend for a while?"
The Dollface slid closer to Selene on the banquette.
Sitting back, she slipped a perfectly formed breast from
under the sheer red cloth of her dress. Her dark nipple stood
proud, surrounded by a small and delightful areola in a
scarcely lighter shade. I knew I would have been unable to
resist the temptation to suck on that teat, and I was not in
the least bit surprised when Selene pressed her mouth to the
glorious breast offered to her.
The Dollface arched her back at the increasingly firm
pressure on her nipple, her mouth opened and her face
twisting with the pleasurable sensations. I knew she could
not resist for long, and she reached for Selene with one
hand, sliding over the soft skin on the inside of her thigh.
Selene moaned at the touch, drawing away from the
Dollface's breast. The blonde woman gently drew my sister's
face to hers with her other hand, kissing her with lips wide
and her tongues exploring the other's mouth. Selene
returned this kiss, her hands exploring the other woman, her
fingers seeking the other's pussy lips with increasing
abandon and urgency.
Johnny and I sat silently for a few moments, watching our
companions exploring each others bodies with fingers and
mouths. Finally, Johnny dragged his attention away from the
sexy show next to him and turned to me.
"So, what was it you wanted to see me about?" he
drawled.
"Well, now that I've rescued my sister..." I started.
"Oh, so she's your sister, is she?" Johnny's curiosity was
engaged, at least a little; it was my job to fan the flames,
"And just what antique horror did you rescue her from?"
I snorted, not quite a laugh.
"She's been brought up out of this world, in an NNZ - a
closed religious community. She was there because her
Mother wanted it that way, but now she's out and about -
and clearly enjoying every bit of it."

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 181


I nodded in the direction of the increasingly noisy lesbian
sex show in the other half of the booth. Johnny followed my
glance for a second.
"All very interesting, but what has this got to do with
me?"
"Well, in all honesty, I need some money," I said, "And I
was hoping that you'd find some work for me, some delivery
that needs making, some job I can do.”
"Ah. Perhaps I can help," the man replied, feigning
disinterest, badly, "But not today. Nothing's hot just now.
Come and see me next week, maybe. What do you need the
money for, anyway?"
"I need to get Selene away from here, quickly, in case the
Reverend and his people come after her," I explained in a
low voice, "They want her back, you see."
I could see that the message was getting though - that
Selene was a runaway from a closed community. The PA
would tell him everything he would need to know to find out
exactly which community I had spirited Selene away from. It
was a pretty safe bet that they would have already been
putting out feelers, advertising their loss and, in particular,
offering a substantial reward for information on the location
of their missing follower.
I knew that the Reverend could not been seen to be using
the automation he preached so vehemently - and so
hypocritically - against. Instead, the information must come
to him in a way that could be explained, demonstrated to his
followers, so that he could come out into the world or, more
likely, send some of his henchmen to retrieve my sister.
"That's okay, I suppose," I replied, taking care to look a
little disappointed, "But I guess that gives me time to
organize a party for her."
"A party?" Again, so very curious, try as he might to
conceal it.
"A welcome party," I explained, "A quiet gathering in one
of the private rooms at the Club. Just a few friends and
family. This evening, if I can get everything set up in time."
We were distracted by the Dollface and Selene as they
reached a screaming simultaneous orgasm. Both women

182 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


had their legs wide, astride each other, their breasts exposed
and Selene's bouncing in time to the Dollface's vicious
thrusts. Selene was finger-fucking the blonde just as
brutally while rubbing her own clit with an urgent circular
motion.
My sister was beginning to fit in really rather well, I
thought.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 183


Volume 15 – Maximum Exposure

Part 1
We left the Starbucks and walked back towards the Metro
station, again pausing to look over that glorious fur coat in
the shop window. Our next port of call was Mom's
apartment. I had a favor to ask of her - another part of my
plan, of course - and besides I felt she would be interested in
meeting Selene. She might not have heard of my recent
escapade, but she would probably be amused to hear about
it and, in any case, she always likes to meet new and
interesting people.
The Metro station platform was quite crowded, enough so
that I held on tightly to Selene's hand; she remained a little
nervous in the presence of large numbers of people. The
train which arrived was also nearly full. Fortunately, a few
people got off and I moved quickly; I got on first, tugging Sis
along in my wake, moving to stand by a vertical pole
provided to steady standing passengers. Selene was pressed
right up against me in the crush; I was standing sideways
and I could her feel her breasts, larger and softer than mine,
pressing into my upper arm.
Moments after the doors had slid shut with a thump and
the car had jerked into motion, I felt Selene stiffen, her
mouth opening instinctively in a gasp and her eyes widening
in surprise.
"Tania!" she hissed in my ear, "Someone's touching my
ass!"
I turned around to face Sis, with some difficulty in the
crowded interior. I looked up over her shoulder, straight into
the face of a woman with flaming red hair, who stared back
at me with flashing green eyes and a lascivious look on her
face. She wore a tightly-cut grey business suit, which might
have been thought of as conservative if the skirt had not
been so short and the jacket not cut so low over her tits. It
was that horny slut I had encountered before, the one who

184 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


liked to touch people in crowded trains while masturbating
herself to a quick orgasm between stops.
"Relax, Honey," I answered her, "She just wants to play a
little."
"Oh," Selene said, a grin widening across her face as she
thought about it.
As I might have done, Sis moved her legs as wide apart
as the confines of the Metro car and the bodies of strangers
would allow, and leaned a little forward, arching her back as
she did so, her head coming to rest on my shoulder.
Encouraged by her movement, I could just make out the red-
haired woman sliding her hand further under my sister's
short skirt, eliciting, again, a gasp from Selene.
"Ohh," she moaned, barely audible over the noise and
rattle of the Metro car, "She's, she's inside me, her fingers,
and I'm soo wet!"
"You like?" I purred in her ear, remembering my previous
encounter with this particular lady.
"Oh, yes!" Selene replied between gasps, "Ohh, yes."
Do doubt she was still wet from her encounter with
Johnny's Dollface in the 'Bucks a few minutes ago. I stood
leaning back on the handhold pole and cradling her head on
my shoulder, whispering encouragements in her ear and
willing her to come soon, so very soon, to reach a climax in
the short time we had before the train reached the next
station stop.
I was watching the woman through half-slitted eyes, who
was masturbating herself and my sister at the same time.
Hher eyes were half-closed too, and her shoulders and hips
jerking rhythmically to the motions of one hand between her
own legs and the rigid fingers of the other fucking my sister.
All three of us were surrounded by anonymous backs in dark
clothing, no-one noticing - at least, not overtly - and
certainly no-one caring what she was doing.
The redhead sure was practiced at this. As I watched, her
mouth opened in an almost soundless "O" and her head
shook with exquisite pleasure. She sagged momentarily,
almost as if her legs were suddenly too weak to support her.
I could tell she liked what she had just done. At almost the

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 185


same moment, Selene arched her head back and then it
banged hard on my shoulder, crying out once involuntarily as
an orgasm rippled through her.
The Metro rumbled to a halt and the doors slid open. The
crush eased almost immediately, with people hurrying to
leave the car. The woman in the grey business suit departed
too, smoothing down her skirt over her fanny and walking
with a gait which cried "just fucked!" to a close observer. As
she left, she cast the merest glance back at us, Selene still
gasping in post-orgasmic pleasure on my shoulder, and me
watching her with much curiosity and not a little lust.
The Metro car was now two-thirds empty - the downtown
stop where the lecherous redhead had departed was
obviously a popular destination at this hour - and I guided
Selene to a seat to allow her to recover. One day, I told
myself, I will find out more about that horny red-headed
bitch, and arrange for a longer and much more satisfying
encounter.
Part 2
For the rest of the train trip, Selene and I sat back and
watched the other travelers. My sister was - very
temporarily, I am sure - sated from the attentions of the
Dollface and the redhead, while I spent much of the time
staring out of the window, thinking further about the scheme
I had hatched for Selene's party.
By the time my attention had returned to the here-and-
now, most of the passengers had departed at the numerous
stops along the line. The car was by now nearly empty and I
was only vaguely aware of a couple of people at the far end
of the carriage.
"What is that?" Selene hissed in my ear, pointing down
the car.
I smiled. Of course my sister had never encountered one
of his Kind before.
"He's a Satyr," I explained, "Huge cock, hard instantly,
horny as hell and able to keep it up for hours."
The Satyr, with the priapic reactions characteristic of his
kind, was already erect, his immense dick proudly emerging
from the dark and curly fur that covered his body from waist

186 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


to mid-calf. The upper part of his body was clothed in a
sleeveless white tee-shirt that emphasized his broad chest
and shoulders, and the hair on his head and the little goatee
beard he sported were of the same thick brown hair that
covered his lower body.
"But why has he got all that hair on his legs?" Selene
pressed.
I laughed aloud, just managing to deaden the sound
behind my hand.
"Can you imagine," I replied, speaking directly into
Selene's ear, "Just how uncomfortable that erection would be
if he was wearing any trousers?"
"Oh!" Selene said, her eyes widening as she took in the
information.
I felt sure I had seen this particular Satyr before.
Perhaps, I was beginning to suspect, this particular horny old
goat had taken to traveling frequently on the Metro
principally as a way of encountering interesting strangers - a
possibility I had entertained myself on more than one
occasion.
On this journey, the Satyr was attending to the urgent
needs of a statuesque woman with incredibly dark skin and
short-clipped white hair, presenting a contrasting effect that
was emphasized by her flashing white eyes, white teeth,
silver fingernails, and silver gloss on her lips - both the ones
around her mouth and, I could now see clearly, the ones
between her legs.
As we watched, she had bent forward from the waist,
licking the Satyr's dick - there was no way she could get
even the tip into her mouth - while holding it determinedly in
both hands. She had hitched up her short skirt and
separated her legs instinctively - or perhaps because she
knew we were watching her from a distance.
She looked to me very much like a woman who knew
what she wanted and was determined to get it as soon as
possible. She pressed the Satyr back against the seating
and straddled his face, clearly urging him to lick her out, to
explore the soft folds around her cunt. He was clearly doing
this very effectively, judging by the intense expressions of
pleasure that racked her face.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 187


In a low voice, I explained to Selene about Satyr's saliva,
which was thick and immensely effective as lubrication.
"So you're experienced this yourself?" Selene asked,
sounding, to my amusement, slightly shocked.
"Oh, yes," I said, a huge grin spreading over my face as I
thought back to one or two recent - and highly satisfactory -
encounters with others of his Kind, "You must try it yourself
sometime."
By now, the Satyr's protruding cock, dramatically ribbed
and veined, was a delightful pink against his dark curls and
her dark skin. The woman slid down onto his lap, skillfully
guiding the immense dick straight into her moistened vagina,
taking an astonishingly large fraction of his length inside
herself.
Next to me, Selene gasped, seeing just how much of his
cock the black woman was determined to enjoy. In
moments, she was already working her way up to her first
orgasm, forcing herself down on his cock again and again,
and crying out expressions of encouragement and ecstasy in
equal measure. The evidence of the Satyr's oral enthusiasm
was apparent in the vestiges of silver lipstick all around his
mouth.
Our stop arrived, the Metro rumbling to a halt. The doors
hissed open. I nudged Selene, who was still engrossed in
the spectacle at the far end of the carriage, and guided her
onto the platform. Even after the doors closed and the Metro
car had begun to pull out of the station, the black woman
was still energetically bouncing up and down on the Satyr's
lap, her face still twisted into paroxysms of delight. Good for
her, I thought.
Part 3
It was a short walk from the Metro station to Mom's place,
the sun shining on the ancient, carefully-preserved buildings
that made this district such a fashionable one in which to
live.
"How frequently do you see your Mom?" Selene asked
curiously as we navigated the streets in the direction of the
converted warehouse that housed her apartment.

188 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


"Not particularly often," I explained, "Although we get on
very well. She has her own life and I have mine. Besides, I
don't always have the money for the Metro tickets."
"But you've got tickets now," he pressed.
"True, although I've just used the last ones," I said,
laughing "And one day I'll tell you what I had to do to get
that Metro pass!"
I bounced up the stairs to Mom's apartment, followed by
Sis. The door opened at my touch, the PA no doubt having
informed Mom of my intention to visit. Mom was reclining on
a couch, but stood up as we entered, moving across the
room to greet me with warm embraces, and to be introduced
to Selene with, I was delighted to see, equally warm kisses.
I told Mom a shortened version of the story of my trip to
Eden, and the way I had snatched Selene from under the
noses of the Reverend and his enforces. As I was speaking,
Gary appeared in the entrance to the kitchen - one of Mom's
old-fashioned affections that she likes so much - wearing a
very masculine-looking apron, a wide smile and - as far as I
could see - nothing else.
"Hi," he said in a friendly fashion, "Can I get you ladies
something to eat?"
Selene turned and looked at me, as if wondering whether
to accept his offer - or perhaps wondering exactly what was
on offer. I did not think it was the time to explain the
properties of Gary's Kind - he was a Seal - so I just smiled
back at her.
"Go ahead," I suggested, "He really is an excellent cook."
Selene, much to my surprise, offered to help in the
kitchen. Perhaps she felt she would be making herself
useful, or maybe she just wanted to eye up Mom's toy-boy
without interruption.
With Sis amusing herself elsewhere, it was time to talk
things over with Mom, explaining about my desire to throw a
welcome party - a swinging party - for Selene, Dragon's offer
to pay the expenses and Madame Maxine's willingness to
host the event at the Chromium Shaft Club. I also whispered
the secret part of the plan - the part I had not explained to
my sister - which caught Mom's imagination immediately,

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 189


judging by the calculating grin that appeared on her face.
Finally, I begged Mom to use her friends, acquaintances and
contacts to ensure the maximum possible coverage of the
party.
To my delight, Mom declared herself immediately keen to
assist, and her organizational skills immediately swung into
action with gusto. She stood rigidly still for a few moments,
in that absent pose one instinctively adopts when the
automation is throwing a large amount of information into
your line of vision.
After a few seconds, she relaxed and sat languidly on one
of the couches, a tall glass of sparkling white wine appearing
by her left hand. She raised her glass to Selene, sipped the
wine, then started dictating personalized notes and reeling
off invitations to a long list of names, many self-evidently
nicknames and very few of which I recognized.
I was delighted to hear that she was describing Selene as
her daughter, even though this was not even slightly true - a
white lie that anyone could see through in a trice with a
simple query of the automation. She explained in a few
words about the rescue from the Eden Commune, certainly
enough so that anyone could easily find out more from the
automation.
The next few hours passed in a blur of activity. Selene
and Gary emerged shortly afterwards from the kitchen,
carrying plates of food - scrambled eggs for me, a particular
favorite. Selene was looking just a little hot and flushed, an
effect that I was quite convinced had nothing to do with the
heat in the kitchen and much more to do with the strength
and flexibility of Gary's tongue.
There were yet more invitations to send, and Mom was
tireless in adapting the invites to each potential guest,
prompted by the infallible memory of the automation. I also
sent a great many invitations: Steve and Renie, of course,
and my friends from the lakeside picnic, and Kim the Andie
too, and all the other acquaintances, lovers and sexual
partners I could remember.
Later on, Mom pulled out a couple of party dresses from
her considerable collection - all shiny and shimmery and sexy
- for Selene and myself, and dressed herself in an elaborate
confection of an outfit that nevertheless managed to display

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an astonishing amount of leg and cleavage. Gary also
dressed for the part, in that classic black tie style made
famous by the Chippendales, a look which, with his oiled and
bronzed torso, he carried off to perfection.
Sparing no expense, Mom summoned a private hire car to
transport the four of us to the Club, sweeping down her own
stairs like an ancient High Priestess followed by three earnest
acolytes. It was going to be a night to remember.
Part 4
"Everyone who is anyone is here," Mom said delightedly,
"I didn't invite half of these people, and I'd never have been
able to get most of them to one of my parties ordinarily."
Mom had performed wonders to get the celebrities and
the rich-and-famous, and the bloggers and zine reporters to
attend, but the results seemed to exceed even her wildest
expectations. The main hall at the Chromium Shaft Club was
packed to the rafters, all thanks to her magnificent,
miraculous efforts.
We were standing in the darkened wings of the nearly
circular stage at the centre of the auditorium, looking up at
the excited crowd all around us. The staff and greeters - my
colleagues and co-workers - were circulating energetically,
making sure that drinks and drugs and foodstuffs were being
supplied to guests, and that the more portable of the Club's
inventory of sex toys and machines were being deployed to
best advantage.
Speaking in the fashion used to address the PA - no
sound, and lips barely moving, I asked the automation if
Johnny was nearby in person or if he was remotely observing
the activities at the Club. I had not seen him in person in
the audience, but there were so many people that I could
easily have missed him. The automation whispered in my
ear: he was not present, but was indeed following the
proceedings at a distance, sitting in the 'Bucks that he used
as an office.
Madame Maxine stood nearby, with Kitty - as always -
waiting at her elbow. Madame nodded to me, then stepped
out into the center of the stage, announced by a low-key
musical introduction. Stage lights followed her, making her

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 191


stand out in everyone's attention. The noise level dropped
markedly.
"Friends," she said, her voice subtly amplified by the
automation, "Welcome to our party and indeed welcome to
the Chromium Shaft Club."
A ripple of polite applause ran around the room.
"Let me introduce your host for this evening," she
continued, "My dear friend, Brandon O'Reilly."
Madame held out her hand and Dragon, dressed in one of
his trademark kimonos, stepped out onto the stage. The
applause was louder this time, and Maxine bowed out into
the shadows leaving the focus entirely on the man.
"Thank you all for coming," he began, "As Madame
Maxine has already said, welcome to our party - a party to
welcome Selene, my long-lost daughter."
He gestured and Selene emerged into the limelight, to
much louder applause.
"Selene has recently been restored to us, from a lifetime's
exile, in a place out of our world, a place of peril and death,"
be said slowly in his deep voice.
The room was silent, everyone following Dragon's words.
Those who wished to know more could ask for a précis from
the automation. This would have been formed from a
combination of direct observation - readily available for those
things that occurred in our world - and my descriptions and
reports, made earlier to Dragon and Mom and Renie, of
exactly what happened inside the Eden Commune.
"She was rescued from her peril by none other than my
other Daughter, Tania." he continued, gesturing for me to
join him.
I stepped onto the stage to louder and more prolonged
applause. Selene and I stood together, holding hands,
turning to face different parts of the auditorium. Selene was
smiling widely, tears in her eyes, and I am sure my own eyes
were just a little moist. Clearly, many of those attending
had accessed some description of recent events. The
applause went on and on. Finally, Dragon held up his hands
and the clapping diminished.

192 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


"So, as a celebration, Selene and Tania wish to enjoy with
you a good old-fashioned gang-bang," he concluded, "Please,
my dear friends and honored guests, I hope as many of you
as possible will join in the fun here on-stage and help us to
properly welcome my daughter to our world."
This announcement was met with a roar of approval, and
an eruption of movement as the more enthusiastic guests
started to make their way down to stage level. Meanwhile,
more lights appeared on the stage, illuminating two raised
and padded daises. Moving in synchronization, Selene and I
slipped out of the shiny, shimmery, dresses we had been
wearing, leaving them as heaps of brightly-colored material
on the floor and us entirely naked.
We held each other's hands, then embraced, kissing and
pressing our breasts together. Then we separated, moving
to our individual platforms and reclining gracefully on them.
"So," Selene cried, "Who will it be? Who will be the first
to welcome me properly?"
Renie scampered over, tearing off the short pleated skirt
she wore - her breasts were already uncovered and bouncing
extravagantly. Selene took her cock in one hand, guiding it
to her mouth. Renie was joined almost immediately by
Steve, first bending to lick Selene’s pussy before standing,
lifting and separating her legs with both hands and driving
his hard member inside her.
Soon, nearly everyone was waiting to enjoy Selene or
myself. I was understandably rather distracted by the
attention I was getting - it was ages since I had had so many
people come inside me and over me in such a short period.
As far as I could see, Selene was fucking all-comers with
abandon, sucking first this dick and then that one, fingering
this anus and that pussy, all while her own lower openings
were penetrated by cock and tongue and finger
interchangeably. She was surrounded, as I was, by many
others - men and women and other Kinds - all masturbating
furiously, the men and shemales more often than not coming
over our breasts and our faces.
I felt sure it was only a matter of time before the
Reverend and his cronies arrived. Sure enough, it was less
than twenty minutes after the introduction - barely enough
time for a couple of orgasms - their party arrived. They

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 193


walked out of the darkness and stepped directly onto the
edge of the stage unhindered, Madame Maxine having given
instructions for the automation to allow anyone to attend the
occasion. Their heavy black clothing was in stark contrast to
the near-nakedness to practically everyone else in the room.
I recognized two of the men that accompanied him - and
they were all men - from my visit to the commune. They
made no attempt to approach or intercept Selene, or anyone
else for that matter, obviously aware of the capability of the
automation to police the situation. Indeed, they seemed to
want to keep as far away as possible, as if they did not want
to be too close - or, at least, they wanted to be seen not to
be wanting to get too close.
"Sister Selene," he orated, "I have come for you, to take
you away from this den of vice and inequity."
Selene rolled off her dais, looking suddenly shocked and
embarrassed, while the men and women who had been
enjoying the delights of her body stepped aside politely. Her
face was flushed, her eyes wide and blinking aside the cum
on her face. She looked uncertain, lost, suddenly once again
a slave to her upbringing.
"No," I shouted, my voice reverberating around the room,
"You belong here."
"Yes, stay with us!" a voice sounded from the crowd
nearby. I could not be sure, but I suspected it was Steve.
Others shouted out, at first sporadically, but the room soon
erupted into a noisy buzz which then dissolved into a chant.
"Stay! Stay!" the crowd bayed in encouragement.
The Reverend looked utterly furious, and his cohort
seemed confused and discomforted, whether by the noisy
crowd or by the display of wanton nakedness I could not tell.
"You will come with us!" The Reverend bellowed, his face
red and his eyes bulging, "You have sinned, transgressed,
but you can still be saved."
"You are always welcome here," I countered, in a gentle
tone that nevertheless carried to everyone's ears, "You have
done nothing wrong."

194 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


The chanting from the audience in the Club grew to a
noisy crescendo. Selene drew herself up straight and turned
again to face the Reverend, a wry smile growing on her face.
"No, thank you all the same," she said calmly, quietly,
although her voice too was carried to the far reaches of the
chamber, "I will stay here, with my friends. This is where I
belong."
The noise and cheering from the crowd grew louder still.
I rushed to Selene, still standing proudly in the centre of the
stage, pressed myself against her - the cum decorating her
breasts lubricating my nipples excitingly - and gave her a
deep passionate kiss. This caused at least one man who was
waiting nearby, stroking his erection in readiness to fuck the
famous sisters, to come immediately, ejaculating hard in an
impressive spurt that splattered on the naked thighs of two
men who stood in front of him, hand in hand, awaiting their
turn.
The Reverend glared hatefully at Selene, took in the rest
of the room with one sweep of his head, then turned on his
heel and stalked out. He was followed closely by his
associates, now huddled together sheepishly as if for
protection from the howling mob.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 195


Volume 16 – Welcome to the World

Part 1
After the Reverend’s departure with his tail between his
legs, the remainder of the party was a complete blast. Both
Selene and I ended up being shagged to the point of near-
insensibility and I, at least, had lost count of the number of
orgasms I had experienced. After that, the affair devolved
into an orgy, with friends and acquaintances and complete
strangers fucking each other with abandon.
Later on, Selene and I sat together on a large couch being
interviewed by countless numbers of reporters and bloggers,
and by the most curious of the party guests. Both Dragon
and Madame Maxine intervened from time to time, to deflect
the most persistent interrogator or idiotic question, but in
general we were happy to repeat our tale, with surprisingly
little embellishment, and offer our opinions on topics diverse
and curious.
Our fame, or at least notoriety, continued to spread, even
after the party. The news of Selene's escape, or rescue, or
release - whatever the correct description is - was the talk of
the blogs for weeks afterwards; there was relentless interest
from the news channels and reporters alike, and anyone who
knew me even slightly before the rescue seemed keen to
extend their acquaintance and to meet Selene, of course. I
was informed, after I remembered to enquire of the
automation, that at any one time, hundreds or even
thousands of people were observing us - remotely, of course,
facilitated by the PA - even weeks after the incident.
We received a great many invitations to visit for dinner,
or a party, or an orgy: far too many for us to take up more
than a miniscule number of them. Even so, as the
invitations flowed in, I was keen to show Selene as much of
the city and its peoples as I reasonably could. She too was
enthusiastic about this project, and we busied ourselves
filling our joint social calendar with a whirlwind of activities.

196 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


One invitation we did accept was from the artist Jackie
Yamamoto, for whom I had once delivered a package. His
terse note, addressed to both of us and delivered by the
automation, read: "Please join me for a poolside lunch, and
later a viewing of my recent artworks."
I spoke a short acceptance, which was transcribed and
grammatically corrected by the automation into the elegant
cursive script I prefer before being whisked away for
delivery.
The morning for our lunch date arrived. Our visit involved
a fairly long trip on the Metro, with just a single change at a
downtown station. As I have previously observed, travel by
Metro is a surprisingly fun way of observing other people
enjoying themselves, and even taking part in an occasional
encounter or two.
Selene and I wiled away the time chatting, holding hands
and kissing occasionally, and otherwise indulging in a little
people-watching. Having spent so long in a cloistered
environment, Selene is sometimes a little nervous in crowds,
although she seems to be getting over that, judging by a
variety of recent experiences. But she does have a
continued fascination with the different Kinds that our society
includes, as well as the kinds of sex that people of all shapes
enjoy.
The Metro cars pulled up and the doors slid open. We
stepped on board and made our way to a pair of empty seats
in the middle of the carriage. In the seating opposite, two
men in old-fashioned but well-tailored business suits sat
together, kissing passionately.
One man, tall and dark-skinned with a mass of dreadlocks
tumbling over his crisp white linen shirt collar, had just slid
one hand inside the other's opened trousers and loosened his
already-hard dick which now protruded visibly from between
his legs. Within moments, the dark-haired man had bent low
into the other's lap, apparently cupping his balls and sucking
on his cock before drawing back momentarily to lick his
helmet which I could see was now glistening with saliva.
The other man - shorter and sandy-haired with just a
suggestion of boyish freckles on his face, and with blocky
and powerful shoulders filling his suit jacket - lay back,
clearly appreciating the oral attentions of his acquaintance so

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 197


thoroughly that I thought he might be at risk that his head
might bang on the glass of the windows behind him. Selene
nudged me surreptitiously and giggled into my ear when she
caught the eye of the cock-sucking man as he tossed back
his long heavy locks, better to take the other man's cock
deep in his throat.
Unfortunately, before I could discover exactly how their
games would end, we arrived at the stop where Selene and I
must alight in order to transfer to line J. I stepped onto the
platform and looked back over my shoulder as the doors
closed with a hiss and the carriages started to move again.
Through the windows, I could just glimpse the dark-haired
man, now himself laying back on the seating. The sandy-
haired man had disappeared from view, no doubt now
returning the oral favors.
Best for all concerned to change and change about, I
thought, just like everything else in the world.
Part 2
The Metro platform where Selene and I had just alighted
was quite busy with commuters and shoppers. I took
Selene's hand and together we edged our way towards the
exit and the connection to our next train. The short
connecting corridor opened up into a large public space,
high-ceilinged and brightly lit, even though I knew it was
several tens of meters below ground.
Shops and outlets of all kinds edged the square, and were
huddled in clusters here and there. In one of the open
spaces in between, a small crowd had already begun to
gather. On a whim, I guided Sis in the direction of the crowd
and edged our way to the front. In the circle formed by the
audience, a troupe of exotic dancers - or at least entertainers
of some kind - were going through a series of warm-up
movements. I glanced at Selene, who grinned back at me,
clearly keen to see what kind of performance was to be
forthcoming.
The troupe members were an equal mixture of male and
female - none of the troupe seemed to diverge from the
classic bipolar nature as far as I could tell. They were
dressed with only tassel-decorated nipples and the skimpiest
of thongs for both men and women, and were uniformly all
exceptionally tall, exceptionally thin and, even more

198 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


astonishingly, exceptionally flexible. Even during their
warm-up exercises, Selene and I marveled at the kind of
position they could adopt without apparent strain: one
formed herself into a backward crab position and scurried
about on the floor, while another stood flat on one foot and
raising the other directly above his head.
The sound of dance music boomed out, something that all
in the vicinity could hear, unless of course they chose to
have the PA block the noise. Judging by the way heads
turned, few of the passers-by seemed compelled to suppress
the soundtrack. The troupe sprang into a well-rehearsed
routine, some of the members turning somersaults and
cartwheels, throwing each other in the air and catching them
adriotly, and even forming wheels in pairs and triplets before
rolling around the floor. Others mimed sexual activities in
time to the music, not actually consummating their
movements, although I fully admit that their abundant
energy and evident enthusiasm was infectious.
"What are they?" my sister asked in a whisper.
Good question, I thought. I did not recognize their Kind
at all, although I was reasonably sure they were not merely
Norms. The automation, immediately identifying our
uncertainty, flashed up that they were a mixture of Cats and
Ragdolls. These were two Kinds I had not come across
before, but it was clear that both were significantly
augmented for strength and movements impossible to Norms
or, for that matter, for other Kinds like myself.
Belatedly, I realized that they were busking, entertaining
the passers-by by way of an advertisement for their services,
their show, whatever they were offering to those who were
willing to buy. No doubt a more elaborate and erotic show
could be arranged at a suitable price. Anyone could find out
more by a moment's interrogation of the PA, although right
now I was more interested in the timetable information the
PA was projecting for me.
"We gotta go," I hissed to Selene urgently, "We don't
want to miss our connection."
With some effort, I dragged her away. We hurried along
another underground passageway, arriving just as the train
was pulling into the station.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 199


This was the longer part of the trip. The carriages started
fairly full, although Selene and I were able to snag a couple
of seats. The crush thinned out rapidly as the train made its
way out of the city centre and into the suburbs. Most of our
fellow passengers sat quietly, or even slept as the Metro
rattled along; for the most part, they appeared to be revelers
returning home after a evening on the tiles, or more likely a
night in someone else's bed.
One man awoke with a jump as the Metro began to slow,
clearly roused by the automation just in time for him to get
off at the right stop. A woman was chatting to an invisible
friend, the communication mediated effortlessly by the PA. I
could see her lips move, although the automation prevented
the sound of her voice from disturbing the slumbering
travelers around her.
Another woman was obviously trying out some recent
purchases, opening first one little package containing a
highly-decorated bottle and then another. As I watched from
the corner of my eye, the woman scooped up her breasts,
releasing them from the strappy top of the summery green
dress she wore. She then rubbed a little of the first liquid
into her cleavage and around her nipples, which made her
skin shimmer and glisten with pale gold flecks.
Pleased with the result, she tugged up the hem of her
dress and rubbed some of the second bottle into the lips
between her legs. Her pussy darkened to a deep glossy red,
almost the crimson of ripe cherries. The body paint
combination was particular fetching, I thought, a very
attractive look and one that certainly made me want to run
my tongue over her lips to see if they tasted as good as they
looked.
Before I could make any move to appreciate the woman's
taste from a much closer range, the train pulled into the final
stop. The woman calmly packed away her shopping and
adjusted her dress before standing up and making her way
to the doors. Selene and I followed her onto the platform
where she was greeted by a couple - a man and a woman,
both Norms - who embraced her warmly before escorting her
arm-in-arm towards the exit.

200 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


Shortly afterwards, Sis and I also emerged from the Metro
station blinking in the bright sunlight. The surroundings all
looked vaguely familiar after my last visit.
"This way," I said, pointing.
We set off for a walk in the sunshine, chatting gaily.
Part 3
Perhaps ten days before, Dragon had bought me the Reel
Fur(TM) coat that I had so coveted. Selene was so delighted
for me, as she knew more than anyone just how much I
wanted the item when I saw it in the shop window. Perhaps
the gift was meant as some kind of reward, although to be
honest he need not have bothered, since the company of my
sister is more than reward enough for me. Or perhaps just
because he understood that I liked it and in any case the
money probably meant nothing to him.
I wore my new coat as frequently as I could - it was too
hot to wear today - and it was so sensual a feeling that I
never wanted to wear anything underneath.
The first time I put it on, I strutted about the apartment
admiring myself in the virtual wall-to-wall mirrors that the PA
had flashed into existence - formed of tiny reflective patches
directly in my eye line which were created and destroyed as
my eyeballs moved, all to give the impression of a
continuous reflective surface surrounding me.
The golden fur-substitute had proved to be irresistibly
attractive to both Renie and Selene, who had been both
watching me wide-eyed, sitting cross-legged and nude on
the bedroom futon we now often shared, surrounded by the
litter of packaging. Both of them wanted to try it on, which
of course I was more than happy to do for my friends. I
slipped it off, enjoying the sensuous feeling on my shoulders
- and leaving me naked - and handed it to Selene.
My sister sprang up from the mattress to take the heavy
coat from my arms. She ran her fingertips over it, relishing
the authentically slightly-irregular feel of the fur created, no
doubt, with nanoscopic precision by the automated
manufacturing process. She slipped it on, feeling the silky
lining against her skin and twirling around to look at herself
in much the same way as I had been moments before.

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 201


Renie stood as well and moved behind Selene, rubbing
her shoulders and waist and breasts through the fabric and
allowing the artificial hairs to brush up against her nipples.
The sensation made her cock stiffen immediately, I could
see, and Selene must have felt it too, as she arched her back
and pressed her ass back against the bulge behind her.
"Let me try it on now," she breathed into Selene's ear.
Selene acceded, letting the coat slide from her shoulders.
Renie caught the fur and slipped it around her. Just as we
had, she strutted to and fro, swirling the hem of the coat this
way and that. Both Selene and I were amused by the way
her dick, now wonderfully hard and erect, protruded from the
furry folds. I could not resist sucking that delightful dick that
I knew so well.
Selene knelt to join me, concentrating on the pussy lips
that Renie has as well as a cock - lucky girl! - in place of the
balls that a Norm would sport. Renie let out a gasp of
pleasure, then swept the folds of the fur coat around both
our shoulders forming a dark and intimate tent. It was so
dark that I could barely even see Selene's face next to me,
and all sounds were muffled by the heavy fur. I found
myself enjoying with distractions the feel and taste and smell
of my dear friend's erect penis.
Renie really appreciated the dual attention to her most
sensitive places. I could feel the muscles in her legs tense,
and her cock - small but beautifully formed - stiffen further
in my mouth. Selene's mouth and tongue worked
energetically on Renie's pussy lips, and I redoubled my
efforts, taking Renie's cock deep into my throat again and
again.
Renie came hard, screaming loud enough to be heard
even under the furs and spurting her delightful juices in my
throat for me to swallow. She sagged back onto the futon
with Selene and I falling on top of her, all of us still swathed
in the voluminous folds of the coat, and my sister and I
giggling in unison.
I was so engrossed in chatting to Selene about the
delightful coat and our reaction to it that I was automatically
following the markers displayed - for my eyes only - by the
Mapz(TM).

202 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


"How do you know where to go?" Selene asked as we
wandered hand-in-hand along the quiet and shady streets
that meandered between mature trees and manicured lawns
that bounded the estates and grounds of the well-to-do.
It had not occurred to me that she did not know about the
VAPAware I had acquired a few months before nor, for that
matter, exactly what I had had to do to acquire it.
"Well, I have been here before, once," I admitted, "But
the PA is helping me, too."
She looked puzzled. I realized that, although she was
aware of the pervasive automation - how could she not be? -
she did not know that some services - basic rights like health
and food and safety - were provided free for all, and others
were paid-for. I explained to Selene about the Value-Added
services known as VAPAware, how I had earned myself a
subscription to the Mapz(TM) service, and indeed how this
whole industry contributed to Dragon's continuing wealth.
By now, we were once again approaching the entrance to
the old-money mansion occupied by Jackie Yamamoto. The
ornate black and gold gates stood open, flanked by neatly-
trimmed hedges and ancient-looking walls of sun-warmed
masonry. Selene seemed faintly alarmed by the massive
gates, perhaps remembering the near-prison where she had
been brought up. I squeezed her hand reassuringly, and she
followed me with only the slightest hesitation, bucking up
noticeably when the gates failed to close behind her.
The front of the grand house was quiet, even tranquil. As
on my previous visit, the front door was closed and there
was no movement visible through the glass windows.
Unhesitatingly, I directed Selene around the side of the
house, following the sounds of splashing and giggling, which
turned to low moans as we made our way along the path.
The woman I knew as Charlene was sitting on the edge of
the pool with her feet in the sparkling water. She was
leaning back with her arms behind her, her head tossed back
and her golden hair cascading behind her. Her legs were
wide apart and the head of a blond tanned man was buried
between them.
At the sound of our approach, the blond-haired man - I
remembered unprompted that his name was Bruce - stopped

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 203


what he was doing and looked up, standing upright in the
warm water of the pool. He licked his lips and grinned.
Charlene tossed her blonde locks and turned her head to face
us, also grinning.
"Hi, Tania," she said with characteristic brightness, "We've
been expecting you."
Part 4
Charlene lifted her legs from the pool and stood up,
smiling at us both as we approached. She embraced me,
planting a warm kiss on my lips and pressing the sun-
warmed flesh of her naked breasts against me.
"And you must be Selene," she said, turning to my sister,
"I've been looking forward to meeting you."
Her brother pulled himself from the pool in one fluid
movement, his shoulder muscles rippling under his tan.
"You remember Bruce?" Charlene said to me.
I nodded, admiring his athletic body and tanned skin. I
glanced at Selene, who returned my look with a grin as wide
as Charlene's. I shrugged my shoulders, bowing to the
inevitable.
"Let's swim!" I suggested perkily.
Selene rapidly pulled off the light summery dress she had
been wearing and tossed it aside carelessly - she now knew
that the automation would effortlessly find and present her
with the garment when she next needed it. She dived into
the pool, swam several strokes underwater before her head
emerged. She turned to face us, pulling her wet hair away
from her face.
"Come on then!" she called, "What are you waiting for?"
Both Bruce and Charlene dived in after her and chased
after her, while Selene attempted to swim away to the far
side of the pool. As I watched, the three of them engaged in
a certain amount of horseplay, splashing each other
energetically and chasing each other around the pool,
accompanied with many giggles and playful taunts.
I unzipped my skirt and slipped out of my sleeveless
jacket, and made my way carefully down the wide steps at
the shallow end of the pool. The three naked swimmers

204 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


came up and splashed at me, and I returned the favor with
gusto. Then they chased each other into the deeper water
while I watched, amused by their antics, then Selene left the
other two flicking water at each other and swam back to me.
"Are you OK?" she asked, a note of concern in her voice.
"Yes, I'm fine," I answered, "It's just that I don't swim
very well. My feet are the wrong shape."
Selene's face made a soundless 'O' of surprise, her eyes
wide.
"I'm fine here," I assured her, "Go chase the others."
Over the next few minutes, the games in the pool
changed from splashing and giggling to fondling and kissing.
Bruce swam to the edge and pulled himself out, then reached
down and grabbed a hand each from both girls, pulling them
smoothly from the water in a grand display of macho
muscularity.
The three of them collapsed laughing onto a sun-lounger.
Both Bruce and Charlene seemed keen to explore the
delights of their new friend. I emerged from the pool
dripping, and skipped over to join in the fun. Bruce was
obviously, impressively, already excited, and all three of us
took a turn at sucking his manhood, between bouts of licking
tits and massaging pussy.
Selene stood up, with her legs spread very wide, gripping
the shaft of one of the pool-side umbrellas that dotted the
decking. Charlene knelt in front of her, her fingers inside
Selene's cunt and her mouth alternately licking Selene's clit
and kissing me. Charlene and I shared the task, our cheeks
pressed together so that we could both stimulate her clit with
our tongues.
Meanwhile, Bruce knelt behind her, his hands separating
her ass cheeks while energetically licking her ass, slipping his
tongue repeatedly into her anus as a prelude to fucking her
there. She was evidently enjoying the moral attention
immensely, judging by the way she moaned and just how
wet she was getting.
Bruce stood behind her, his cock hard and dripping and
began to ease himself inside her rear opening. Selene was
writhing with pleasure now, her pussy being forced against

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 205


our faces by the force of Bruce's increasingly vigorous
thrusts. She came hard, wave after wave of intense feeling
racking her body, crying out, gasping, her body quivering
with released tension.
As Selene sagged back onto the sun-lounger, I noticed
Jackie Yamamoto approaching from the direction of the main
house. I suspected that none of the rest of the party had
noticed him, as they were so engrossed in one another.
Jackie caught my eye, and beckoned to me with a wave of
his hand. Leaving Selene with Bruce and Charlene, I
extricated myself deftly and made my way across the
poolside decking.
Following Jackie, I entered the main room of the house,
where lights blazed as bright as the sun outside. In the
center of the floor, a statue took pride of place. It was, I
could see clearly, a rendition of Selene: her relentless
approach to orgasm had been captured in stone by the
artistry of Jackie Yamamoto, another tribute to his talents for
sexual sculpture.
It closely resembled a figurehead on the bowsprit of an
antique sailing vessel. Selene was bent forward, arms
clutching a pole. Her upper body was picked out in exquisite
detail, with every curve and fold rendered perfectly in the
cool grey stone, and her face in that beautiful ecstasy of
incipient orgasm.
Her lower portion, from her waist down, was abstracted,
simplified and rendered in a finish that suggested that it had
been hewn from solid rock with crude hand tools. I could
make out that she was surrounded by three other people,
kneeling or squatting on every side, and I could just tell that
mouths were pressed against her most sensitive places. But
when I looked again, it was as if Selene's body was escaping
from the dead rock, like something wonderfully miraculous
escaping like a butterfly from a chrysalis.
There was something else in the Jackie's sculpture of
Selene, too - something that I found hard to describe at first.
Finally, I realized that it elicited a wonderful sense of
freedom, a release from a grinding oppressive drudgery, and
a sense of being really, truly, joyously alive for the very first
time.
"Do you like it?" Jackie asked.

206 Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009


"I do," I breathed, "It's marvelous, absolutely
magnificent. Does it have a title yet?"
"Yes," he replied, clearly pleased with my reaction, "It's
called 'Welcome to the World'."

The End

70306 words
207 pages
21/05/2010 22:22

Copyright © P Hopkins 2008-2009 207

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