Stephanie's Travel Tales : Stories.

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Please post your stories here

[MCNA]

-Untitled (EDIT: "Layovers and Connections")-
mc ma
By MCNA

I stood at the stop at 4th & Union, peering over the shoulder of the man standing next to me to see if I could make out the number of the bus coming from a few blocks away. It only had two digits, so I knew it wasn't the bus I was after.

I glanced at my watch, then walked over to the schedule again. 510 from Seattle to Everett, leaving at 2:56 PM. The bus was supposed to have been there already, but the traffic was kind of heavy for a Friday. I adjusted the shoulder-strap on my backpack, then went back to standing with the oddly placed crowd. No one seemed to feel comfortable standing near each other at bus stops, they always gave people a lot of space. Even when there was an empty spot on a bench, it was an unwritten rule that you didn't sit there unless there was going to be enough room for yet another person to place between you and whoever else was occupying that bench. Even the crowd didn't stand in a line, or a group, they were just sort of scattered about under the cover, near the sign, and along the sidewalk.

It was like a pigeon on one of the nearby buildings had loaded a shotgun with people and just sort of sprayed them next to the stop.

I looked down 4th towards the oncoming traffic and finally saw the 510 approaching. I adjusted my backpack once more and dug into my pocket for my bus pass. I found it, made sure it would be facing right-side-up and right-side-out to flash at the bus driver, and kept it in my sweatshirt pocket. A line finally formed with the people getting on the same bus, and I realized it was going to be a crowded ride as I stepped up to the end of the line.

Sure enough, once I finally got on, there were already a few people standing near the back, all the seats had been taken. It was about a 50 minute ride, and once you got on the freeway, it was kind of a pain in the ass holding yourself up on those bars. The bus enjoyed randomly pushing you forward or backward at 20 MPH for no apparent reason sometimes.

I thought maybe some older guy who had a soft spot for young women would get up and let me have his seat, but no luck on this particular trip. I ended up somewhere near the center of the bus, next to that circular part of the floor that connected the two halves. I moved to face forward, but I realized the space was a little cramped and I probably would end up shoving my backpack against someone, so I just grabbed onto one of the bars and faced the back of the bus.

I immediately felt very awkward, of course, as everyone sitting down and everyone else in the back was staring forward, and it certainly felt like they were all staring at me. I looked off to one side, nodding a little bit, as if to indicate, "Yeah, I know," and when I looked back, I was still getting those odd stares.

A young guy next to me caught my eye, though. He had shoulder-length brown hair that was parted in the middle, which was straight enough to make me jealous. His beard was a slightly reddish color, a bit lighter than his hair, and was thick enough to suggest it had probably been a week or so since he last trimmed it. He was wearing a sweatshirt that had Huskies emblazoned across the chest in purple letters outlined in gold, and some blue jeans that were starting to tear a bit at the front right pocket. His shoes were black, Vans or something else that looked easy to slip-on - the kind of thing I'd seen a lot of skaters wear.

To be honest, I don't know why he caught my eye. He was actually the only person in the back not looking at me, and he had some headphones resting over his hair - those ones with the big earmuffs that ensured you could have your music up to deafening levels and probably not have anyone near you notice. He was bobbing his head lightly, just enough that I actually wasn't sure if it was the music or just the motion of the bus causing it. Looking at him, I just saw "college dude," there was nothing terribly remarkable about him. And yet, there was something.

As we got past the downtown area and onto I-5, he looked around him for a moment before his gaze settled on me. Most of the people on the bus had taken to looking out the window or otherwise occupying themselves by kind of staring off into nothing. No one ever really talked to each other on these buses, except late at night when the really homeless looking pairs would find their way to the back of the bus and then go on about church, work, women, or start talking music with whoever made eye contact with them.

I cocked my head to one side as I returned his gaze. He just stared at me for a moment before he smiled a little bit and similarly cocked his head in the opposite direction, as if maybe teasing the slight gesture I made at him. I furrowed my brow a little bit, though I did smile at the movement. We didn't say anything - his headphones ensured I wouldn't have heard him anyway - but we just watched each other for a long moment. It got to that awkward point where if one of us looked away and we didn't say anything, it would somehow be rude. Like, "Well, I got your attention... But I got nothin' to say to you."

Unfortunately, that's apparently what crossed his mind, because he just smiled at himself and then looked down to his CD player. I thought that was sort of strange, I hadn't seen anyone listen to music on anything but an iPod for so long that I didn't think anyone had CDs any more.

"Eastmont Park and Ride," came the garbled bus driver's voice over the intercom. I looked over my shoulder to see if a spot to sit was going to open up, but only a few people got off, so nothing for me. I sighed - my arms were starting to get a little tired from making sure I didn't get sent flying into anyone as my knuckles would turn white holding onto the support bars.

The bus pulled away from the little stop in the dirt road and got back onto the freeway. I looked back at College Dude, and he glanced at my legs for a few seconds before lifting his head to look me in the eyes. I glanced at his CD player, and he followed my gaze, then looked back at me. He raised a hand to his left headphone and pulled it away from his head for a moment.

"What are you listening to?"

"White Stripes."

I nodded slightly. "Ah. I like them, they're good." I felt kind of stupid, but I wasn't really sure what else to say to that. "New album?"

"Um... No, older one - De Stijl?"

"Ah." I didn't really know the album at all, but I nodded along in understanding anyway.

He just nodded back. "Yeah." There was a moment of awkward pause, but he just nodded again at me as if to say, "Alright, then," then let his headphone back down as he let his gaze drop back down to the bus floor.

Eventually, the driver called out over the intercom, "Everett Station." I hopped off and looked around the three rows of stops for a moment, looking for my next transfer. I found it on the far side from where I was - unfortunately, the 90X heading north wasn't supposed to leave until 4:30, and it was only 3:55 by my watch. I adjusted my backpack strap and turned to the station. It almost looked like a cathedral of some sort just kind of out in the middle of nowhere - the freeway entrance was just past the stop once you got back out on the road. I didn't really want to sit on the metal benches for 40 minutes, so I made my way past the double glass doors into the station.

The train stopped by this station, too, as did some of the Greyhound buses, and for the most part, it looked like that's what most of the people inside were waiting for. There were some empty seats here and there, and I pulled up to one and took a seat. I unzipped my backpack and dug out my laptop, wondering if the cafe in the station had wireless I could use to check my e-mail or Facebook or something to kill some time.

While I waited for my computer to boot up, I looked up and around me for a moment and suddenly noticed that College Dude was sitting about 10 feet to my left, on the bench across from me, his gaze focused on the screen of his own laptop. His headphones were still on, but this time they were plugged into the back of his computer, and I didn't see his CD player. I almost laughed - I wondered if he was going the same way I was. If not, he seemed to have a lot of the same things on his mind as I did, at least for this trip.

As I let my gaze linger a little long, though, I think he must have realized he was being watched, because he glanced up over his screen, raising an eyebrow, before turning his head to look at me. His gaze caught mine, and we had another strange moment of not saying anything to each other. He didn't smile at me this time, though. He didn't seem angry or anything, his face didn't really betray what he was thinking, but his eyes... They had something playful in them.

He kept looking at me, and I started to feel kind of... Odd. Not uncomfortable, just... I don't know, not quite right. I wondered if he felt the same thing, and I ended up looking back down to my laptop. I blushed a little bit, feeling sort of embarrassed - though I wasn't really sure why. I reached up and rubbed the back of my neck some, casting a sidelong glance back at him. He was back to looking at whatever he was looking at.

After about 30 minutes of browsing my e-mail and Facebook messages - one was from my friend Sarah who was saying how fucked up she was going to get at the party she was throwing that night - I decided it probably would be a good idea to go back out to the bus platform and wait for the 4:30. Never knew when a bus would be early, and since the next one wasn't until 5:40, I certainly didn't want to miss it. As I started packing my laptop back up, I saw the Dude looking at me again. His laptop was already put away, and he was sitting with his elbows on his knees, his CD player in his hands, leaning forward some as he watched me.

I felt that strange feeling again. I was feeling a little warm, like maybe I was sitting in that spot of sunlight that gets reflected off a window in just the right way as to create a little stove top somewhere, but that wasn't the case. I shifted slightly as I slipped my laptop into my bag, glancing to the side. As I looked back to him, he got up and slipped his CD player into his sweatshirt pocket and walked out the station, his head bobbing gently to his music.

I took in a deep breath and let it out, wondering why I felt warmer than usual. I reached down and slipped my sweatshirt off, tying it around my waist, and immediately felt much better with just the babydoll shirt I had on underneath it. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and headed out to my stop.

Lo and behold, there he was again, leaning against the signpost with the schedule on it. He glanced over his shoulder at me briefly before looking back down the road at the traffic passing by the station. I reached up and brushed some of my hair back as I took my spot in the shotgun-spattering pattern so common to the bus stops.

I ended up taking a seat across the aisle from CD - I had shortened College Dude to a new nickname for the guy - for the trip up to Mt. Vernon. The bus was supposed to get in at 5:20, which would mean just barely missing the 5:15 that connected from there up to Bellingham. I decided I'd try and catch a quick nap for the short bus ride, so I leaned my head against the window and closed my eyes.

I realized this was a bad plan when, as soon the bus started pulling out of the station, it jostled so much that I actually banged my head lightly against the window. I frowned, leaning my head back against the seat instead. I rolled it over to one side, looking at CD, who was looking back at me with a grin on his face. I rolled my eyes, but smiled back as I looked forward again and closed my eyes.

A real nap isn't exactly what I'd call what I had, but I had that sensation of being somewhere between dreaming and awake. I looked over at CD again, and he had taken his headphones off, and was just watching me. I swallowed, sitting up in my seat as I watched him. I started to feel warm again. His playful look was still there, but it was almost... Predatory now. Honestly, it was... Kind of hot.

He stood up out of his seat, steadying himself against the next one as he made his way over to the seat next to me. He lowered himself down, resting back as the two of us studied each other quietly. Without a word, he reached over and placed his palm against my cheek, leaning in and pressing his lips against mine. I didn't resist at all, I just pushed forward into the kiss lightly, letting out a soft breath that felt like I was letting out some kind of tension. I sat up enough to lean into him some, which he welcomed by slipping his arms around my body.

I felt so comfortable, so warm, so... Relaxed, as I just settled against him and into the kiss. He moved his hand up to my hair, letting his fingers glide through it until he reached the top of my head, lightly scratching and massaging it like the people at the hair salon do when they're "prepping" you. I had no idea how he knew it, but I loved that feeling, and I instantly melted against him for it, letting out a little, "Ohh..." into the kiss.

He bit my lip gently before pressing his kisses down along to my neck. I felt a little twinge down at the back of my thigh as he nipped at the side of my throat, followed by me uttering a brief, "Mmm..." He held me close to him as he kissed his way up to my earlobe, flicking his tongue across it before nibbling at that, as well.

"Skagit Station."

I blinked my eyes open, thrown a little offguard by the announcement. I looked around, and saw CD getting up from his seat across the aisle. I took a few deep breaths, feeling a bit flushed, and embarrassed again as I collected myself and my backpack. I had no idea why I was imagining that he had been coming onto me, but I certainly wished my dream had been allowed to keep going. At least I thought it was a dream.

Goddamn bus driver.

As we got off the bus, I looked off towards the exit of the station and sighed as I watched the 5:15 80X pull out without me on it. I hated the layover at this station, the next bus wasn't until 6:10. I wondered if I could find something on the internet to amuse me, so I went in search of another cafe with wireless at the station - it was smaller than Everett Station, but it still looked sizable enough to have some little corner coffee stand in it somewhere.

While walking from the row of bus stops towards the station, I couldn't get the dream out of my mind. The way CD had kissed me, the way he had held me... It was almost loving, but at the same time, like he just knew how and where I wanted to be touched. I was feeling kind of turned on thinking about it again. Once again, I wondered why in the world I had dreamed that of all things.

As I took a seat on one of the benches in the station, I realized I had sat across from him once again. As with the last station, there he was, headphones on, absorbed in his screen. This time, though, I didn't even open my laptop. I just watched him, tilting my head to one side as I did. He was obviously a student at the University of Washington, or at least liked the Huskies enough to wear their clothes, but I really couldn't see anything in him that would make him stand out against any of the other guys I saw on a daily basis in Seattle.

Without moving his head, he lifted his eyes to meet my gaze. Instantly, I felt my cheeks redden and my breath catch slightly in my throat. I quickly looked away, back down to my laptop as I opened it up, turning it on. I really wished at that moment that I had already had it open, so I could distract myself with something to do instead of awkwardly waiting. What if he decided to talk to me? I mean, I didn't see what was wrong with it, but... Well, I felt a little vulnerable, and I didn't want him to speak to me at just that moment.

I made a quick look back up at him and he was back to his laptop. I looked back to my screen, breathing a little heavier than usual. I took in a deep breath, then let it out, trying to calm myself down. Why was I so worked up, anyhow? I finally got myself connected to the very slow wireless network and started browsing Facebook again. Every now and then I'd look up at CD - sometimes he'd notice me, other times he wouldn't. When he did, I'd feel embarrassed as I thought about my dream on the 90X again, trying to ignore it as I'd go back to searching... Whatever it was I wasn't really paying attention to.

Once 6:00 rolled around, he packed his stuff up and left for the bus stop again. I was feeling warm once more, and just a bit turned on. I couldn't stop thinking about how he held me, how he kissed me. For fuck's sake, the dream wasn't even sexual, his hands never wandered south of my neck!

The 80X left right on time, 6:10 on the dot, and it wasn't supposed to arrive in Bellingham until 6:55. I took my seat and closed my eyes, trying to think of something else except the last bus ride. Unfortunately, once the bus pulled out of the station and got on the freeway, all I could think about was where the dream should've kept going.

I opened my eyes and looked to my side and, sure enough, there was CD, across the aisle from me once more. But I got on after him, not before, so I must have chosen to sit across from him again. Didn't I? I hadn't even really paid attention when I got on, I just sort of picked a seat. There he was, though, looking right at me. He slipped his headphones off and put them in his backpack before joining me in the seat next to me again.

I wanted to pull away, I wanted to say something, but I just watched him as he stared into my eyes again. His look was definitely one of someone who was sexually hungry, and I felt very much like his intended prey. And goddamnit, I was starting to get off on this idea. He took hold of my shoulders, pressing me back against my seat as he arched himself against my body. I wondered what the other passengers were going to say or do, but I just closed my eyes and lifted my back off the seat to press back into him. His lips once more found my neck, suckling at the skin just above where it met my shoulder, and I felt like I was just giving into him. It felt good.

I reached out and pulled him on top of me, wrapping my legs around his waist. The positioning was all kinds of uncomfortable, considering the seating arrangements, but I really didn't care any more. Whatever he was doing to me, I don't think I could've stopped him. I wanted it too badly. He set his palm against my stomach and let his fingers trace up under my shirt. I started to pant heavily-

"Bellingham Station."

Oh, fucking Christ! I thought to myself. I suddenly realized that once again, I was sitting alone in my seat as CD was getting off the bus. Another dream? It felt so real that time - real enough that, at this point, I was already getting wet. I suddenly wondered if I had been inadvertently touching myself or somehow giving off some kind of sign to the rest of the passengers that I was fantasizing about this guy. I hurriedly picked my stuff up and got off the bus.

CD was waiting for me. His headphones were wrapped around his neck, and he had his backpack slung around one shoulder. He reached out with his free hand, placing it on my shoulder. I looked into his eyes, feeling almost helpless, like I'd do whatever he wanted me to, but all he did was smile warmly and say, "Enjoy your weekend."

With that, he turned and headed off into downtown Bellingham. I wanted to run after him, to jump him and fuck him in the middle of the street, viewers be damned. His touch almost felt electric, and I ended up hurrying into the bathroom and barricading myself in one of the stalls.

I quickly unzipped my jeans and pooled them on the floor, my fingers finding their way past the waistband of my panties to my slit. I was barely even thinking at this point, my mind felt like it was just in a frenzied haze that would only be lifted by cumming. I was already well-lubricated with my own juices, and it didn't take long for me to find three of my fingers inside myself, stroking my clit and rubbing against my pussy. It also didn't take long for me to bring myself to a mind-bending climax, as I slammed one hand against the door of the stall to steady myself. My knees almost buckled out from under me and it took everything I had to not scream out in pleasure.

As I came down off my high, I took in several deep breaths and collected myself, pulling my jeans back on and washing my hands off in the sink. I looked at myself in the mirror, almost in confusion. Who the hell was that guy?

Well, I thought, I guess it is a good way to start off my weekend. I wondered if I'd see him going back the other way once Monday rolled around.

I could use someone telling me to enjoy my week, too.

[Mesmeri]

When I saw this contest the following story popped into my mind. I hope you'll enjoy it. And yes, I have no editor or anything so I have to catch everything myself. Try to anyway.

Train of Thought

   "And have a nice weekend," Sylvia said to the only two passengers in this part of the train as she gave back the tickets.

   The smartly dressed woman who had accepted them gave a small smile in answering. "I always do." Her green eyes were actually twinkling as she said that and Sylvia found herself returning the smile, despite her exhaustion. And exhausted she was. It was Friday and late while she had been on her feet since eight that morning.

   This was the last car and they wouldn't reach another stop for at least an hour so she decided to take a rest. She didn't sit with the passengers but sat down directly behind the raven-haired woman. A deep sigh escaped her when her legs no longer needed to support her weight.

   Sylvia shamelessly stretched herself out, heedless of what those two women behind her thought. Only one of them could see her anyway and she seemed something of a non-entity. Having found a comfortable position she lazily directed her gaze out the window, watching the world whiz by.

   Her ears perked up when the passengers started talking, well one of them was. It was the one with the infectious smile, Sylvia noted. She liked to eavesdrop on these conversations, it was surprising what juicy stories you could stumble upon.

   "I just love travelling by train. You don't have to do, worry or even pay attention to anything. You just sit back, relax and let yourself be led to your destination." Sylvia couldn't hear any response, which was a little odd since she had no problem with the soft-spoken words from just before.

   "And then there is the sound," the woman continued. "The steady rattling of the train on the tracks. A steady thrum that follows the rhythm of your breathing. In at every kadeng and out with every kadung." Sylvia absently noted the woman was speaking the truth. Funny how she had never noticed how her breathing was being led.

   "It's so relaxing to just sit back and let yourself follow the rhythm. A train journey is just filled with them, the rattling of the train tells you when to breath in, and out. The world outside shows you when to blink." Sylvia frowned slightly at that even as she looked out the window to see what she was talking about. "A tree goes by and you blink." Sylvia blinked.

   'I guess she's right, funny I missed so much.' Her thoughts were interrupted by the woman's next words. "And another tree, a new blink. And every blink lasts a little longer, every blink makes your eyes a little more tired." Once again Sylvia found this to be true so when a row of trees came by she simply closed her eyes until she thought she was past before opening them again.

   They went by a signal post so she closed her eyes again, slowly and barely in time to notice the trees that allowed her to close her tired eyes again. "Yes, it is so relaxing to let the train do it all for you. Breathing, blinking, thinking. Your weary eyelids can't keep up, they just want to sink down. Cover your tired eyes and sink so your mind can drift on the steady rattling of the train. No worries, no fears. Just breathing and relaxing."

   It was so true, the train really was so powerful. Guiding her, telling her tired body what to do. So she let it. Sylvia closed her eyes and didn't open them again as the woman kept talking.

   "Train travel is so relaxing, you don't have to do anything but sit and let the train do the thinking for you. Telling you how to breathe, calm and steady. Is the train telling you how to think?" Someone murmured her agreement but Sylvia was to busy doing what the train told her to do to notice who it was.

   "That's good, very good. So now that your mind is free of worry and fear, it can concentrate on making you one with that all-compassing rhythm. Drown you in it. Let your hand glide up over your body." Sylvia's hand had rested on her thigh but now snaked up her body till it covered her right breast." Yes, just like that. So is your tit humming? Is it suffused by a need thrumming in pace with the train." Sylvia could feel her chest rise and fall but that wasn't the answer. So she shook her head, heedless of the fact that nobody could see it.

   "Well then you will just have to make it. Let your hand go to work, don't bother your mind with the details. Use your other hand to find more places that are lacking. That are crying out for attention." She did and found her left breast as silent as its counterpart so she began kneading that one too. Her quiet moans began to fill the car, still in tandem with the rattling of the car.

   Her hands traveled over her body, playing it like an instrument as it began to magnify the rhythm of the train. It drowned out thought all together so when the woman said to kneel her body simply did that without bothering to inform her mind. The rattling of the train filled her universe, it was her universe.

   It wasn't until the train slowed down that her thoughts started up again. It was the disconnect between the steady need inside of her and the train that caused this. But the fact that she found her tongue curled around a searing hot button that was pulsing with that same need was what really woke her up. It didn't stop her hand pistoning evenly into her own pussy or kept her tongue from licking the pussy in front of her but Sylvia could direct her eyes upward. See who she was pleasuring even though she already had an inclination as to who it was.

   They traveled over an unbuttoned blouse, a taut tummy with rippling muscles and stopped for a few moments to appreciate the sight of two gleaming globes peaked with stiff nipples. Eventually her eyes continued their journey until they met two green eyes. There was no panic or uncertainty in them.

   "The train tells you what to do, as the train goes so do your thoughts." A hand began to stroke her head. "Slower and slower they go, one thought for every kadeng."

   'What is she...talking about? Oh...no she is...right, I...can't...have...to...' And the train stopped.

   She was kneeling on the floor with her head in the lap of a strange woman. She was going down on that woman while fingering herself and there was nothing she could do about it. She was aware, just incapable of thinking. Of forming plans or conclusions, she could only continue to kneel and pleasure the beautiful woman that was still caressing her head.

   An infinity later the train began to pull up, and with it her thoughts started up again. 'Okay...Sylvia...You can...do this. Just...pull your hand out...of your pussy...not to rub your clit...or stick them into her pussy. Rub them around her asshole.' Her thoughts were speeding up alright, but she had forgotten to what they were speeding up. They were going to match the rhythm of her body, her pleasure-soaked body that was obediently licking out the goddess before her. The conductor of her thoughts.

   And so her thoughts of escape derailed as contemplation on how to best pleasure the other came back on track. Sylvia's eyes drifted down to focus on the pussy before her, drinking in the sight of her flushed labia as her mouth lapped up her arousal. She stopped masturbating so she could use her hands on the subject of her attentions, inserting two cum-coated fingers into the raven-haired's sex.

   She became a part of the train, pistoning in and out in sync with the machine. Not slowing down as the woman shuddered in orgasm. Nor did she stop when the woman came for the second time, or the time after that. Time was meaningless to her, she did not even recognize there was a now. There was just up and down, in and out.

   The train slowed down and Sylvia came to with a start. She blinked and looked around, noticing with a start that they had reached the station. She rolled her shoulders and stood up, she felt really good. There was a funny taste in her mouth, one she couldn't quite place, but it wasn't unpleasant so she gave it no more thought.

   She turned around and saw the only passenger standing up so she stayed where she was to let the busty beauty pass. A blush came to her cheeks. 'Busty beauty? What the hell am I thinking, I must be more tired than I thought.' Of course the woman was nice enough, Sylvia had seen her before as the woman always took this train on Friday. She had never approached the woman though and she wasn't interested in women that way anyway.

   Said beauty stopped before her. "It was an enjoyable ride as always. I guess I will see you next week then."

   "We aim to please," Sylvia quipped.

   The woman grinned in return. "Oh, and Silly Silvie shouldn't forget to come by tomorrow."

   Sylvia's smile turned dreamy, "she won't Mistress". The woman nodded at that and left with a hypnotic sway in her hips.

   Sylvia watched the passenger leaving, that same dreamy smile on her lips until she blinked and came back to herself. With flaming cheeks she pulled her hand away from her breast, still tingling from the brief massage. 'Okay, I must be really tired if I am zoning out like this. I think I should just stay in tomorrow and go to bed early.' Having made up her mind she got back to work.

THE END

[Jukebox]

Not sure how popular this will be, it's got a bit of a squicky component to it, but it's what my brain came up with, so...

"Two Tickets To Paradise"

Shelley almost never won anything. She just wasn't the lucky sort. When she called the radio station, she was always either their ninth or eleventh caller. Sixteen years of always playing her lottery numbers had yielded a net loss of six hundred dollars. She couldn't even win at church Bingo night. So it was with a sensation of mild shock that she found herself boarding Northeast Airlines Flight 122, destination Maui, alongside her best friend, Clara.

The tickets had come in the mail, part of a special promotion run between the airline and her credit card company; apparently, every time she'd charged anything in the month of January, she'd been entered into the contest. "Who knew that those shopping sprees would pay off?" she'd giggled to Clara when she'd asked her to come along. She was just glad she'd convinced Karyn, their boss, to give them both vacation at once; she'd hate to have that second ticket go to waste.

They handed their boarding passes to the stewardess (Shelley knew they called them 'flight attendants' nowadays, but she hadn't flown since she was a kid), and walked down the ramp straight into first class. First class! She'd never flown first class, not ever. This was such an ultra-modern plane, too. It had a little TV screen set right into the back of the seat in front of her, so she could watch movies during the flight.

"They have 'Enchanted'!" she squealed to Clara. "That movie went out of theaters way too quickly, if you ask me."

"It's like that with every movie these days," Clara grumbled. "They just want to get them all to DVD in a hurry. Or to this thing." She tapped the credit card reader at the side of the screen. "Just a scam to get your money, that's all it is. I'll stick with this, thank you very much." She pulled out a battered paperback romance novel from her purse.

"Oh, you and those romance novels!" Shelley said. "Honestly, I'll never know what you see in those!" She chuckled inwardly at the thought of the other first-class passengers listening to their conversation. All these businessmen and jet-setters, and they were stuck listening to two forty-year old women bickering like an old married couple.

"They're sweet," Clara said, defensively but without any real heat to it. The two of them knew each others' foibles by now.

"'Sweet'," Shelley snorted as people continued to file by them, stowing bags and buckling seat belts. "Porn for housewives, that's all they are! Give me a good game show any day."

"They've probably got those on there too," Clara said, gesturing dismissively at the screen. "Anything to separate you from your cash."

Shelley giggled. "Maybe if I swipe my card through there I can win another trip! We can travel the globe, earning a new vacation everywhere we go."

Clara chuckled at the thought as the last of the passengers trickled on board. "I don't think we make enough money to go on that many free vacations."

*   *   *   *   *

Once they were in the air, the stewardess came around. Shelley wasn't one to judge, but she seemed like exactly the sort of girl who would become a stewardess--a blonde, of course (assuming you counted "bottled blondes" as blondes), thin, with big breasts and a faintly confused look in her eyes, like she couldn't remember exactly what she was doing or why. Not that Shelley was jealous of the girl's looks. She was perhaps a little wider in the hips, and her boobs might not be so impressive, but she'd trade a few chocolates for looks like that any day. She was a brunette, thank you very much, and proud of it. Of course, Clara always said blondes had more fun, but Shelley didn't think those romance novels cared what color her hair was.

"Would you like a pair of headphones?" the stewardess said in a polite, distant voice. "You'll be pleased to know that as a special promotion on this flight, the headphones and the television viewing are complimentary."

Shelley beamed at the girl. "Why, thank you!" she said. "I'll take one, and Clara here--"

"I'm fine with my book, thanks," Clara said, putting on her reading glasses.

"But they're complimentary, ma'am," the stewardess said in a perplexed tone as she handed Shelley her set.

"Yes, dear, but that doesn't mean they're mandatory, does it?"

The stewardess blinked once, twice, three times. It looked like Clara's comment had broken her brain. Finally, she said, "I'll ask again later," and moved further down the cabin.

Shelley put her headset on and plugged it into the screen. The miniature television set lit up, but instead of a recognizable picture, it just fuzzed into blurry colors. At the same time, a throbbing noise played into her ears. Just her luck to get one that was broken. She pressed the button to signal for the stewardess again, although she frankly didn't know what the girl could do.

Shelley thought about reaching up to fiddle with the channel buttons to see if she could find one that wasn't showing static, but suddenly that seemed like an awful long way to move her arm. It seemed like all of the excitement of the trip suddenly turned into a crashing wave of exhaustion that sent her sinking into the soft cushions of the first-class seat. Let the stewardess change the channel when she got here, Shelley thought. She was just going to sit there, relax, and let other people do the work for a change. She was on vacation, wasn't she?

After what felt like hours of staring vacantly at the shifting patterns of color, the stewardess finally arrived. "Is there anything I can help you with, ma'am?" she asked.

Shelley heard her voice clearly, but the throbbing noise in her ears made the question seem distant, vague, unimportant. "No," she said, hearing the relaxed tone in her voice. "Everything's...fine." She distantly realized that the lethargy she felt was too intense to be explained away by simple travel stress, but the same sensations that made her apathetic about everything else made her equally apathetic about her own apathy.

"And you, ma'am?" the stewardess said, addressing Clara. "Would you like a pair of headphones? They're complimentary."

Shelley heard the throbbing in her own ears, and thought about trying to tell Clara not to put on any headphones, even thought about asking her to take Shelley's off. But that just seemed too much like work, and so she just relaxed bonelessly into her seat as Clara looked briefly up from her book and said pointedly, "No thank you." Shelley was happy to hear that Clara, at least, would be keeping her wits about her.

"I'll ask again later," the stewardess said, heading back down the aisles.

Without the stewardess to distract her, Shelley found her eyes drawn back to the shifting pattern of colors on the screen. She wondered what was happening to her. She could still think freely, she realized, but it felt like the soothing colors and the warm, throbbing sounds in her ears were sedating her, wrapping her brain in a blanket of cotton wool and making her pliant and relaxed. She wished Clara would pay just a little more attention to something besides her romance novel for a moment, and perhaps notice that the show her friend was watching didn't have any characters or dialogue. But then again, if Clara looked at the screen for too long, maybe she'd get lost in those colors too. Shelley struggled to remember why that would be bad.

The stewardess returned, this time as part of a pair. The other girl was a redhead instead of a blonde, and tended more towards the willowy, but she had that same dazed expression in her eyes. Shelley knew it wasn't natural, that it wasn't even the sort of placid look she was giving them, but she just couldn't summon up the effort to wonder what was going on. She just watched, half an eye on the women and half an eye still gazing vacantly into the screen. "Would you like a pair of headphones?" they said in unison to Clara.

Clara looked up from her book and said, quite sharply, "No thank you!"

"They are complimentary," the redhead said.

"I'm not interested!"

The blonde reached out and unbuckled Shelley's seat belt, then helped her to her feet. Shelley noted that she didn't seem to have any trouble moving when directed to do so; it was just summoning up any sense of initiative that seemed to be gone. She let herself be moved out into the aisle, the headphones still connecting her to the screen like an umbilicus, as the redhead moved into the space Shelley had vacated in order to stand directly next to Clara. "You might not understand, ma'am," she said. "These are entirely complimentary."

Clara set her book down on her lap and glared at the woman. "I know what 'complimentary' means, thank you very much! Perhaps--" Shelley couldn't quite see what was happening, not from the angle she stood at, but the redhead raised her skirt, and Clara stopped in mid-sentence, her face suddenly pale as chalk. She drew in breath to scream, but the stewardess simultaneously clapped a hand to Clara's mouth and straddled her crotch, the skirt spread out over their laps as the stewardess slowly ground her hips into Clara's.

Shelley wished she could do something, but at the same time, she felt detached from the event. It was like she was watching a stranger, not her best friend as Clara's expression slowly went slack, vacant, and dazed. The stewardess just kept whispering, "That's right," while rocking back and forth on Clara's lap and stroking Clara's cheek with the hand that wasn't holding her mouth shut. After a few moments, she took her hand away from Clara's mouth. Clara didn't scream. She didn't even speak. She just sat there, a trickle of drool at the corner of her mouth, moaning very softly. "That's right," the stewardess whispered. "Soon, you will have one of your own. She will always be with you." The words made no sense to Shelley, but she couldn't make that matter to her any more than anything else. "But for now, you need to be made ready." The blonde handed her a pair of headphones, and she slipped them onto Clara's ears with no protest at all. The blonde plugged them into the screen, and the redhead gently disentangled herself from Clara's motionless form. Clara mewled softly as the two of them separated, her eyes losing that dazed expression just a little, but they remained all too glassy as the screen captured her attention. Part of Shelley started to panic, then, but it wasn't a part that could break through the enforced calm the headphones induced.

The blonde gently pressed Shelley back into her seat, and she slumped bonelessly into it as her eyes locked onto the colors once more. As her eyes moved from Clara to the shifting, swirling display in front of her, she noticed that her friend's fly had been unzipped, and her belt undone, and that the front of her jeans was now drenched in fluid. Something struck her as incongruous about that, but the screen kept her from looking back to study Clara, kept her from thinking back to remember exactly what the stewardess had done. The effect just kept intensifying, stretching time out into a mindless eternity of throbbing noise and strobing colors. It got harder and harder to care about Clara. It got harder and harder to care about Shelley.

Her endless reverie was briefly interrupted when a man burst out of the cockpit. He staggered forward to the front row of seats, tried to shake the people sitting and watching their screens, but got no response. He moved down to her seat, and Shelley managed to shake off the spell just enough to make eye contact with him. Even that, now, seemed like a Herculean effort.

"Please," he whispered, "please wake up, you have to help me! The pilot's gone nuts, he's changed our course, he said something about 'the colors showing him where to go'. I tried to take the controls away from him, but he wouldn't let me! You have to help! You have to do something!"

Shelley looked at him, trying to parse the concept through a thick wall of mental fog. Eventually, she reached out a leaden arm and pressed the button to summon the stewardess.

It didn't take long for the blonde stewardess to arrive at all. She walked up the aisle, heading implacably towards the co-pilot as he backed away. "Jenny," he said, "what's wrong with you? What's wrong with all of you people? For God's sake, snap out of it!" Jenny walked up past Shelley's seat, and as she drew closer to the co-pilot, she raised her skirt just as the other girl had. The co-pilot, though, did manage to scream. He screamed a long, girlish scream that none of the passengers reacted to in the slightest, and fell backwards in his haste to get away. Shelley managed to lean just a little to the side, just enough to see out into the aisle as Jenny flung herself onto the man, straddling his face with her crotch. She heard him scream again, but this time it was muffled, and after a few moments it trailed off into a gurgling noise, then into nothing. As his screams subsided, his flailing and kicking struggles also relaxed into stillness. Jenny stood up, and the co-pilot lay unmoving on the floor. Shelley could see a large red welt on the side of his neck.

Jenny turned and headed back to Shelley's seat. "Thank you, ma'am," she said, gently adjusting Shelley so that she was directly in line with the screen once more. "You did the right thing. I'm afraid it's Bill's first time on this route. He hasn't been told what to do." Shelley sank back into the soft colors, barely even noticing as Jenny took Bill's ankles and dragged him back into coach.

*   *   *   *   *

Subjectively, it felt like an eternity before they landed, but Shelley recognized on some level that they hadn't flown nearly far enough to go from Milwaukee to Hawaii. She couldn't look out the window, though. Her eyes were locked onto the screen, and she had moved beyond the mere lethargy of the beginning of the flight to a total passivity. When the screen finally flickered off, she simply sat there, waiting for commands. They were not long in coming.

"Everyone, please disembark the plane," the redheaded stewardess said. Shelley felt her hands lift the headphones off, seemingly of their own volition, and her legs seemed to stand and march her out of the airplane and down the steps without any conscious effort on her part. Clara's pants had fallen down when she stood up, but her only reaction was to step out of them and keep moving. Soon, they stood with the other passengers on little more than a patch of cleared ground, miles from any sort of civilization. A small pond a dozen yards away was the only landmark.

A small crowd of people awaited them, perhaps twenty or so. Shelley saw the blonde stewardess walk by, carrying the co-pilot's limp body with surprising strength. She headed towards the pond with him, and set him down, then started undoing his pants. Before she could see what happened next, Shelley was guided to one of the people in the crowd.

She wasn't surprised at all to see the same dazed, blissful expression on his face that she'd seen on the stewardesses. "Hello," he said. "What's your name?"

"Shelley," she said, listening to her own voice as if she was an eavesdropper. "Shelley Lazlo."

"Alright, Shelley, I'm just going to ask you a couple of questions. First, is there anyone who would notice if you didn't come back from this trip? Friends, family, co-workers, that sort of thing?"

"Yes," Shelley said, thankful that it was true. She knew in her heart that she couldn't lie right now. "My boss would wonder what had happened to me, and so would my whole office. And the man next door is sitting for my cats. He knows when I'm supposed to be back."

"Alright," said the man, nodding. "That's just fine. And second, during the trip or when you get back from the trip, will you be able to avoid being naked in front of people, or be able to avoid wearing extremely skimpy outfits?"

Shelley felt her face blush crimson, but her voice remained placid as she said, "I will. I had planned to do some sunbathing in Hawaii, but I can avoid doing that if I have to."

"Alright, Shelley, thanks very much. That puts you in Group Two, then. If you could just head over to the pond, there, next to the stewardess with the red hair?" He pointed, and Shelley found herself moving effortlessly towards the pond.

As she walked, she noticed that the passengers were being split up into three groups. One large group sat in the middle of the field, with a man that Shelley assumed was the pilot speaking to them. "...you will not remember this unscheduled stop," he said as Shelley passed by. "You will simply remember the excellent service, and you will want to take another trip very soon, with your spouses or significant others. You..." Shelley wondered what he was going to tell them next, but she couldn't stop herself from heading to the pond.

The people at the pond were split into two groups as well. Shelley saw that she and Clara were both in the larger of the two groups. The redhead smiled at Clara when she saw her. "I'm so glad you didn't wind up in Group Three," she said to Clara. "After feeling her touch, I'd hate to think that you'd have to wait until your next trip to get one of your own." Clara nodded vacantly, and Shelley wondered just what they were talking about, just what the two of them had shared.

"It's time," the redhead said, this time addressing all of them. "If you could please strip from the waist down, now, we can get this unscheduled stop over with quickly." Shelley tried to fight it then, simply out of embarassment over cottage cheese thighs, but she disrobed as though her resistance wasn't even happening. Three of the people who had been waiting for the plane waded into the pond then, reached their arms into the water, and pulled out...

Shelley wanted to scream. The things they held thrashed and flailed in their hands, tentacles writhing and coiling and uncoiling all along their arms. They walked up to three of the passengers. Shelley couldn't help but notice that Clara had maneuvered herself to be first in line. Each of them said the same words, like a benediction. "She will always be with you." Then they took the writhing, octopoid creatures and pressed them to the passengers' groins.

Shelley watched as her best friend shuddered in ecstacy at the creature's touch. It flattened itself to Clara's body, wrapping its tentacles around her in an effort to gain purchase. One of them, Shelley noticed, had a large, spiny stinger at the end of it. That must have been what had drugged Bill, the co-pilot.

Clara fell to her knees as the creature slowly inserted itself into her vagina, tucking itself deeper and deeper into the folds of her pussy. Shelley shuddered in revulsion, wanted to scream or run or lash out at the thing attaching itself to her friend, but just then, a man approached with another of the creatures. She noticed a faint undulating motion behind the fabric of his jeans, and knew that he must have one wrapped around his body as well. "She will always be with you," he said, and Shelley felt the cold, wet flesh touch her own.

It didn't stay cold for long. It felt like scarcely moments before it felt warm, blood warm. The tentacles pressed against the flesh of her body like a lover's, and Shelley let out a startled gasp at the sheer pleasure of the touch. The creature's touch seemed to stimulate every nerve in her body, not just the ones it touched directly, and Shelley suddenly understood the blank, dazed expression in the eyes of the people around her. They, too, felt the pleasure, the intense, gorgeous pleasure of the creatures' touch. Clara must have felt that same pleasure back in the plane, when the stewardess had pressed her body against Clara's and those tentacles had undone her clothing and pressed against her body. The very touch of the creatures was bliss. It was beautiful, not horrifying. She knew that now.

The pleasure became even more intense as the creature slowly insinuated its form into her body. Shelley looked down at her own pussy as the thing slid itself into her, its form undulating and rippling inside her cunt. When the pleasure became too intense to bear, she too fell to her knees like Clara had. It pushed its way deeper into her, now, some of its tentacles waving gently and relaxing their grip as it found purchase inside her flesh. She knew she was drooling in mindless bliss, but she didn't care. It just kept feeling better and better as it touched her deeper, more intimately.

She could hear it now, not as a voice but as a gentle, warm throbbing inside her head. It was so much better than the simulation had been on the plane, so much more powerful. It didn't just make her passive, it made her eager to obey. Colors flashed behind her eyes, and without words, she knew what they were directing her to do. She replaced her clothes, knowing that the others were doing the same. They were Group Two. They needed to return to the plane. Only Group One would stay here, preparing the way for the next flight of passengers.

Shelley walked back to the plane, with Clara and Bill and Jenny and all the others. She pitied the Group Threes, the ones who could not yet know the bliss of hosting one of their own. They would return, though. They would come back to this wonderful spot, buying tickets for themselves and their loved ones. The destination would say 'Hawaii' or 'Los Angeles', but the tickets would really bring them here, to the place where their lives would change, to the place where they would know paradise on Earth. She knew that. Eventually, they would return and bring others, just like she would, just like Clara would. Everyone would have one of their own, eventually. That would feel so good, be so perfect. Like a lover who never left them, like a caress that never stopped. Like Heaven, pressed tightly to her willing flesh.

"She will always be with me," Shelley whispered, and knew it to be true.

THE END

[lisateez]

All the Way Across

Lucidity did not come easily to James Harwood. He'd spent much of the past three months in a near stupor but the new drugs were working.

He still had moments when his intellect would leave him but those moments were becoming less and less frequent. Sometimes, he wished he weren't so lucky. Life with medication sometimes meant one didn't have to dwell on one's problems and James Harwood had more than his fair share of problems.

Actually, James Harwood had one really big problem out of which all other problems arose. James Harwood was dying and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

For James Harwood, two words summed up his condition. Inoperable meant the doctors couldn't fix it, and non-communicable meant he didn't have to stay cooped up in some dingy hospital which was how James Harwood found himself on Flight 29 over the Atlantic.

They'd left Heathrow at 11:00 in the morning and James Harwood had found himself amazingly attentive. With his luck, Harwood thought, it figured. Sure, be fully alert when the flight attendants were going through their mind numbing spiel about how to fasten a seat belt and where the emergency exits were. If there was anytime when you'd want to be zonked out, that was it.

The plane quickly rose to its cruising altitude and the captain turned off the seat belt sign, all the while admonishing passengers to stay where they were. Harwood had no problem with that. There was nowhere he wanted to go anyway.

He'd passed out by the time the meal was served and it wasn't until people were halfway through their meals that he once again regained consciousness. It figured, he thought.

He flagged down a flight attendant and he asked if there was a meal for him.

The flight attendant looked puzzled. "Didn't you hear the announcement," she asked.

"What announcement?"

"They didn't load enough meals for everyone, so we handed out what we had and then we were done."

Harwood groaned. It wasn't that he wanted airline food but he just wished he'd had a choice in the matter.

"You can have some of mine."

Harwood had been so preoccupied that he almost didn't hear the girl. "What," he asked.

"I said you can have some of mine."

"Are you sure?"

The girl laughed. Of course, she was sure. "It wasn't much," she assured him, but she was sure neither one of them would starve.

Harwood thanked her and suddenly he felt self-conscious at feeling pitiful for himself. So what if they didn't have a meal for him. If they hadn't, he wouldn't have met the girl.

Her name was Melissa and she was going to America to go to school. "Really," he'd said.

She nodded. Her aunt lived in Chicago and she'd invited Melissa to come and stay. Her family hadn't wanted her to go but for Melissa, it was an adventure. That carried almost no weight at all with her family except for Uncle Henry who kept saying they should let her go, but then almost no one paid any attention to Uncle Henry. It wasn't until Aunt Clarice assured the family that Melissa could start her college education in the states that her family had reluctantly let her go.

"So you'll be going to school in America," Harwood asked.

Melissa nodded enthusiastically. "I can't wait," she said. "I'd like to meet kids my age."

"Kids in general," Harwood kidded, "or maybe more like boys your age."

Melissa ducked her head shyly as her face reddened but then she perked up again. "You're right," she said. "I would like to meet some American boys."

The conversation went on that way with the middle-aged Harwood and the college-bound Melissa continuing to share her meal. They talked for a while longer and then Melissa wanted to listen to some music. She pulled a blanket up around her and Harwood was left once again to his thoughts.

James Harwood thought he was hallucinating at first. It wasn't an unreasonable assumption. After all, it wasn't every day that you saw troll-like creatures building a device up by the lavatories.

The flight attendant had given him a soda as compensation for his lost meal so he sat there and he looked and he wondered just what the hell his imaginary friends were doing.

Friends really wasn't the right word. Whatever they were, he had a good idea they weren't anyone's friends. The creatures weren't completely opaque. They seemed to almost shimmer and they appeared almost transparent at times, but even with that, James could tell they were mean.

The creatures, whatever they were, didn't seem bound to the confines of the airplane. Whatever they were, they would wink out and then wink back in with a new part or tool for whatever it was they were building.

A person went up to the lavatories and the creatures scurried out of the way, taking their device with them. So, they didn't want contact with the humans. That was interesting, Harwood thought. Of course, it didn't mean they were real, but Harwood wondered what it meant when you started hallucinating about anti-social, little trolls. Whatever it meant, he thought, it probably wasn't good.

So James continued to watch. Whatever it was they were building, it seemed to be coming along just fine. It had four cylinders on it and some kind of electronics. The creatures, it seemed, had come to an impasse. One of them wanted to do things one way, but the others all wanted to do it another, but the objector was waving a screw driver at the others menacingly as he tried to get his point across.

Their argument had become quite heated so that they almost didn't notice the flight attendant coming down the aisles with one of their carts, but at the last moment, they seemed to see the cart. One of them yanked the device aside and the trolls moved out of her way.

An empty can of soda fell off the cart and the creatures went scurrying in a near panic. One of them climbed nearly halfway up the walls of the cabin. Another burrowed under a seat. Whatever it was about the can of soda, it looked for all the world as if they were afraid of the can or whatever was in it. They began to poke their heads out when it was clear that the apparent danger, whatever it was, was not about to come to pass. The flight attendant reached down, didn't see the creatures, picked up the can and continued on her way.

It was time for a closer look, James thought. He headed for the lavatories. As expected, the creatures got out of his way, but not before James had gotten a good look at what they were doing. He wasn't an expert but he didn't have to be. He knew what they were doing.

"They have a bomb," he declared.

That got everyone's attention but as far as anyone could tell, he was just pointing at the floor.

"They have a bomb," he said again, and again, no one did anything. The creatures were glaring at him but they did nothing.

A flight attendant came up to the man. "Sir, you're going to have to take your seat."

"But they have a bomb," Harwood tried to assert.

"Sir, really. If you don't take your seat and don't stop making a fuss, we're going to have to call ahead to the authorities, now please take your seat."

No one in the cabin saw what he saw and it was clear he was getting nowhere. Reluctantly, he let the flight attendant lead him to the seat. He felt so powerless.

Melissa gave him a reproachful stare as he sat down and then she looked away and she wasn't the only one. Harwood didn't care. Somehow, he knew what he was seeing was true so he kept an eye on the creatures.

One of the creatures separated itself from the group. For being only a foot and a half tall, there was no doubt that the creature was mad. He stomped down the aisle and then in a move that Harwood would have thought impossible, the creature leapt from the floor of the plane all the way to the top of the seat in front of James and the creature glared at the man.

James had the distinct feeling that it would have been better to have been able to not see the creature, or more to the point since he clearly could see it, it would have been better to be able to pretend that he couldn't see the creature but when you have something like that staring you in the eye, it was kind of hard to not see it.

The creature defined stocky. Its body was muscular and its face was old and lined and the creature stared at James with dark malevolent eyes. Try as he might, James couldn't take his eyes off of the creature.

"M badu chanari," the creature said.

James tried not to respond but he had the feeling that something in his reaction had given him away.

"Let's try this then," the creature said. "You can hear me, can't you?"

James couldn't help it. He nodded in response.

The creature stomped on the top of the seat and the tray table came down. The creature jumped down on the tray table. He was now eye to eye with James and he glared at the man. "Thought so," he said.

The creature put a hand on James's chest and he seemed to nod knowingly. That hand, it seemed, wasn't nearly as insubstantial as the creature appeared because James could feel it. It wasn't completely there but it wasn't completely not there. The creature nodded knowingly. "Thought so," it said.

James had no idea what the creature was talking about.

"This should take care of you," the creature said and James felt something flow into his body through the creature's hand.

His dick was getting hard. His dick was getting very, very hard. His dick was getting harder than it had ever gotten before.

The creature nodded knowingly as it hopped off the tray table and it hopped onto the arm rest between James and Melissa. James didn't even have the presence of mind to look over and see what the creature was doing. He was too involved in what his cock was doing to do that, but he heard the girl gasp and he knew something was amiss.

The creature hopped back up onto James's tray table and he stared the man down. "There now," the creature said. "That should take care of you. Now stay out of our way," and with that, the creature leapt down into the aisle and stomped back up to rejoin his companions.

James knew he should watch. He knew the creatures, whatever they were, were up to no good, but with the way his cock was feeling, he was having trouble concentrating on anything more than that.

This was great, the man thought. Here he was on an airplane. He was dying, and everyone around him thought he was hallucinating except he now knew he wasn't, and now his dick was hard, and it wasn't like he could do a damned thing to take care of it. What the hell else could go wrong?

Melissa moaned in the seat next to him and James turned to look at her. It was the first time he'd thought of her since the creature had done whatever he'd done but he now wondered just what the hell the creature had done.

The girl's hands were twitching and the girl moaned again.

"Are you all right," James asked.

The girl looked over at the man in irritation. "No," she moaned.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said. "Nothing you can help me with," she amended.

"You sure?"

"There's nothing you can help me with," the girl said with irritation, "nothing at least that a crazy man can help me out with."

"Are you sure?"

The girl hesitated. "No," she said. "No, there's nothing you can do."

"All right then," the man said. He'd tried his best to see if there was something the girl needed but he couldn't force her to take his help and besides, with the way his cock was feeling, he needed to take care of himself.

"Mr. Harwood," the girl said a few moments later.

"Yeah," the man said irritably. He was still trying to figure out how to take care of his cock without anyone seeing.

"Can I ask you a favor?"

Now, the man thought, the girl wants a favor now. "What is it," he asked irritably.

The girl seemed to assess the man. "Nothing," she muttered irritably. "Forget it. Forget I said anything."

There was something in her tone that got the man's attention and he couldn't help but feel that the little pint-sized troll had done something to the girl just like it had obviously done something to him, and if it had, then whatever had been done to her, he was partly to blame for it, so if she needed his help, he ought to be there to give it. "No," he said again. "No seriously. I mean it. I'd like to know what's wrong."

The girl was still hesitant at first. "I ... I need your help," she said finally.

"What do you need?"

"It's ... it's my pussy," the girl said.

The man hadn't thought his cock could get any harder than it was before but he was wrong. It was that word. It was the word pussy that did it.

"What do you need," the man asked in a tight voice.

"It's my pussy," the girl said again. "I ... I need someone to take care of it."

"You need someone to take care of it? You mean you can't take care of this yourself?"

"By someone else," the girl amended. "I need someone else to take care of it."

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about my cock."

"That's gross," the girl said. "I knew you wouldn't understand."

Harwood did understand. In fact, he understood it perfectly. It wasn't until the girl had put it into words that he realized just how right she was. He did need to have his cock taken care of but he needed someone else to do it.

"I do understand," he assured the girl, "really I do, and I'll make a deal with you. You do the same for me and I assure you, I'll give you whatever your pussy desires."

"What do you mean you'll do the same for me," the girl asked.

"I mean what I said. You take care of my cock and I assure you, I'll give your pussy whatever it wants. So what do you say to that?"

"What do I have to do?"

Harwood groaned and he lifted the arm rest between his chair and the girl's. "The first thing you can do is slide on over a little closer."

The girl unbuckled her seat belt and she slid in close to the man. Her hand seemed to almost naturally find its way to the man's chest and it wasn't long before that hand was sliding down into his lap. The girl moaned lustily. "Mmm, I think I see what you have in mind," she said. "You might be crazy, but dammit, you do have what I need to take care of my pussy."

The man could feel the way the girl's hand was stroking his cock. "I think what we need now is for you to get that cock out of my pants."

The girl didn't respond right away. She seemed almost content to let her hand continue to stroke its way over the length of that cock but then her hand pulled the man's zipper down and the girl slid her hand inside his pants and she wrapped her hand around the man's cock. "You mean this cock," she asked.

"You know what I mean," the man said.

"Someone's going to see," the girl said and yet all the while, her hand continued to play with that cock in his pants.

James Harwood didn't much care who the hell saw what the girl was doing with his cock. He needed to use his cock on the girl and really, nothing else mattered and he got the feeling that the girl was thinking pretty much the very same thing, but just in case she did ...

He looked around and he saw the blanket that the girl'd been using. "Hand me that," he said.

"Why?"

"Because I said so, and because I want to fuck your pussy, and because I don't want to hear any more arguments from you when I finally get my dick inside you."

The man didn't really think the girl would object and he was right. She merely reached back and grabbed the blanket and handed it over. "Now what," she asked.

The man draped the blanket over his lap. "Now, you pull my cock out and you start to suck on it."

The girl looked up at him and she grinned but she wasn't ready to suck him, at least not quite yet. "You are going to fuck me," she asked. "You promised."

"I'll fuck you," the man said. "You can count on that."

The girl grinned. "That's all I wanted to hear," she said, and that's when she pulled the man's cock out and she started to stroke him in earnest.

The man groaned and he pulled the blanket back if only for a moment, but it was long enough for the girl to slide her face down to his lap.

Once again, the blanket was back in place. They really weren't hiding anything, the man knew. Even to the most casual of observers, it had to be obvious what the girl was doing underneath that blanket but then really, the man didn't care. He wanted to get his cock sucked and he wanted to get that pussy fucked and that was really all he cared about. Nothing else mattered.

Even through the blanket, his hand could feel her body as he stroked it. He slid his hand down and pulled her top out of her skirt. He let out a low groan. He loved the feel of her skin under his hand.

The man groaned as the girl took his cock. She'd seemed a little bit reserved before and that was understandable, so he'd thought maybe she'd be tentative at first, but right from the first, she'd taken the length of his cock in her mouth and she'd sucked the entire length of him inside her mouth.

The man's hand moved lower still and then he was easing it down under the hem of the skirt. His hand found her panties. He squeezed her butt and he relished the way his hand made the girl moan.

The man tried not to groan if for no other reason than to draw attention to himself might be the best way to keep the girl from doing what she was doing but he wasn't all that successful at holding back. The girl was just too good a cock sucker for that.

Her panties were plain, white cotton. He could see that now but his hand was moving again, this time moving up to the waistband, this time pushing their way down inside the white, cotton sheath. He could feel her young, round butt and then his hand moved lower still. He could feel her pussy and he could feel how wet she was.

Her hand gripped his cock around its base and her mouth moved up and down on his cock. The man moaned again. Fuck, that was good.

He was going to cum. The man knew it. He was going to cum and he knew he should tell the girl but he knew he couldn't. She might stop if he did and more than anything, what he wanted from her was to keep right on going.

He was close. He really should tell her. Girls didn't like it when you came in their mouth, at least some girls didn't. Okay, most girls didn't, but the way this one was going. Oh geez. She might just like it.

He should tell her, he told himself. He should ... should ... oh fuck.

The girl had to know he was cumming. It's kind of hard to hide something like that, but she didn't miss a beat. She just kept sucking his cock as he pumped more and more of his cum in her mouth.

His cock was waning and the girl pulled her mouth up off his cock and she peeked out from under the blanket. "How was that," she asked with a grin.

"That was ... that was fine," the man spluttered.

"But remember what you said you'd do for me."

"But Melissa," the man began.

"Don't you worry about a thing," the girl said. "I just want you thinking about what you said you'd do to me."

"But--"

"A promise is a promise, Mr. Harwood," the young woman said, "and I expect you to do what you said you'd do, but don't you worry about a thing. By the time I'm done with you, people will be calling you Mr. Hard-wood."

The man groaned as the girl's mouth once again went to work on his cock. What the fuck did he care. He was dying anyway. He might as well go ahead and fuck the girl.

The girl was right. He might have just cum but she was getting him hard again. He couldn't help wondering if the girl had done this before. He wondered if the girl knew how good she was, but dammit, he'd just cum really hard and already, the girl was getting him hard again. Damn, the girl was good.

The girl peeked out from under the blanket. "Remember what you promised," she said.

The man was remembering. Fuck the rest of the passengers. "Take off your panties," he told the girl.

"Oh goody," the girl quietly squealed and moments later, her panties were gone.

The man didn't need the blanket, not anymore. He tossed it aside and unbuckled the belt on his pants. "Get over here," he told the girl.

The girl didn't need to be told twice. She clambered over his legs until she was standing between his knees. The man pulled up her skirt and held out his cock. "Here you go," he said. "Take it."

The girl reached between her legs and found the man's cock. From there, there really wasn't anything else need. Her pussy seemed to lock in on that cock and then she let out a low moan as her pussy found the head of that cock. She was so wet.

She hung there for a moment, almost as if her pussy was perched on top of the head of that cock and in a way, she was, but it was only for a moment and then her pussy was sliding down around that cock as it took more and more of the man inside her.

Harwood knew the woman across the aisle was watching. She was trying to pretend she wasn't, but he knew she was, and he knew there were others that were watching, too. Some of them might even be enjoying the show. Most of them weren't but Harwood didn't care. All he wanted was to fuck the girl's pussy. That was all he wanted, all he needed.

The girl moaned. She was trying to keep it down but she wasn't doing a very good job. Her arms grabbed the back of the seat in front of her even as her pussy moved up and down on the man's cock. "Fuck me," she whimpered as softly as she could. "Fuck me."

The man could barely keep from moaning himself. Sure, the girl was dressed, but she wasn't wearing any panties and when he held her skirt up, he could see her butt bounce up and down as her pussy took his cock.

"Fuck me," the girl whimpered. "Fuck me."

It was only a matter of time. The man's cock surged and he could feel it happening. He was cumming again and once again, he was filling up the very receptive co-ed.

Melissa moaned as she received her reward. "So good," she moaned. "It's so good."

The man didn't say anything. He was too busy with what he was doing to come anywhere close to forming rational thought and when it was done, the girl dismounted and turned around and kissed the guy. Her hand found its way to his depleted cock. "I want to do it again," she said.

"I don't know," the man said.

"You don't know?"

"Someone might see."

"You know what? I think they already have and you know what? I don't care."

The man had to agree with the girl there.

"I want to fuck," the girl said. "I want to fuck you all the way across the Atlantic."

The man nodded. He wasn't sure he could keep up with the pace she was setting but he was more than willing to try.

"Damn, just think about it. We can be fucking all the way across the Atlantic. We can do this all the way to the end of the flight."

The man shook his head. There was something wrong with that. What was wrong with that?

The girl seemed to sense his reticence. "Don't you worry about a thing," she told the man. "I'll keep you hard all the way across the Atlantic."

All the way across the Atlantic. Fuck, that was it. The man peered up the aisle and he could still see them, the little whatever-they-weres. This plane wasn't going to make it across the Atlantic. He was sure of that, unless ...

Unless he found a way to stop the little beasties.

"Wait here," he told the girl and he got up and went to the galley. He got a can of soda and he was shaking it up all the way up to the lavatories.

He could see the creatures watching him balefully and he knew they could see him but all he really wanted to do was go back and fuck Melissa.

"I know you guys can see me," he said in a hushed voice, "and I know you don't like what's in this can, so I'll make a deal with you. You guys wink the hell out of here and take your little bomb with you or I'm going to spray this place with soda and something tells me you aren't going to like that. You got that?"

The creatures looked at the man and to the can in his hand and then back at the man.

"You got that," Harwood asked again.

One of the creatures winked out, and then another and another until everything was finally the way it should be.

James Harwood nodded and returned to his seat. "Now, let's see," said James. "Where were we."

Melissa put her hand on the man's cock. "I think we were talking about how you were going to fuck me all the way across the Atlantic."

The man grinned. "You know," he said, "I think you're right. I think that's exactly where we were."

[badpenny]

Clockwork Utopia: Wayward Cogs

After four days of being cooped up in a tiny safe room, the open air was a welcome relief. Wren stepped off the stoop, making sure her fedora wasn't sitting too low. It wouldn't do to look like she was trying to escape the notice of the constables stationed at the corner of the street. In a grey suit with her breasts bound and her hair cut short and dyed a deep brown, she looked nothing like the delicate Wren Laurel in the holographs those damned alchemists were circulating.

And with forged papers, she was Mal Tanner, entry-level banker and bachelor. If she could keep her head, in an hour she'd be out of Delmont and on her way to her guild's branch in Ridgeway. She didn't trust the branch in Delmont. Someone there had betrayed her and informed the Alchemy Guild of her assignment.

She didn't really trust her guild's branch in Ridgeway, either, but the Alchemy Guild in Ridgeway wasn't as strong as it was in Delmont. She'd have a better chance of convincing her guild to cooperate in Ridgeway. And she had a better chance of evading an attempted murder charge in Ridgeway. Technically -- technically in  Ridgeway, at least -- her actions had been self-defense. She had been one foot off the Alchemy Guild's property when she injured Master Fulstorm.

She strode past the constables, keeping pace with the other pedestrians on the street. First test passed, but she didn't let herself relax. She still had to get to the ferry terminal. Then she had to get past the guards -- alchemists, most likely, not mere constables -- get her ticket, and succeed in boarding the ferry. Even then, there would still be the matter of disembarking in Ridgeway. Had the alchemists anticipated her actions and mustered what little influence they had in Ridgeway?

Wren sighed. She wouldn't know until she got there. There was no use worrying about what awaited her in Ridgeway now, not when she had more pressing worries. The crimson roof of the ferry terminal cut against the grey waters of the sound, and beyond it, obscured by fog, the North Peninsula and Ridgeway. One more mile.

One more mile through the business district. The buildings loomed over her, too tall and too imposing because Delmont was a modern city, a city of progress and technology and promise according to the alchemists and their supporters. Wren tightened her grip on her briefcase. Promise! Those damn alchemists already had their clockwork men dispensing tickets and directing people to the proper bays at transit stations. Soon, they'd have those things sweeping the streets, directing traffic, waiting tables, and manning bank counters. What would happen to people like Mal Tanner then?

And those clockwork men would hear all. See all. She had the proof between the layers of cloth binding her breasts. Dangerous cargo -- normally, she committed information to memory -- but in these cases, her guild, and their patrons, trusted original documentation over memory. If the alchemists began bundling information with their services, what need would the constabulary, the mafia, and other outlets have for the Information Guild? What would happen to her guild then? What would happen to her? To her fellow guild members?

Nothing pleasant.

Wren risked a quick glance at the Alchemy Guild building as she passed. The number of guards at the entrance had tripled since her little excursion, alchemists with homunculi or familiars. She took grim pride in that.

Then she was past the Alchemy Guild. The crowd thinned as she continued past the core of the business district. By the time she reached the boundary of the industrial district, she was one of only people wearing a suit. Most everyone else wore laborer clothes -- factory uniforms or construction overalls. She stood at the last intersection before the ferry terminal, fretting like a nervous businessman. She should have taken a trolley to the ferry terminal -- it would have been more fitting for her current identity -- but since she did not know how difficult things would be in Ridgeway, she needed to conserve her money.

The line to enter the terminal was longer than she expected. Two constables were checking the identification papers of every person, and behind each constable stood an alchemist with a homunculus. Wren licked her lips. Her papers would pass muster. Would her disguise?

Wren blanked her mind. If she let herself worry, her disguise would fail. If she thought, she would worry. So she let her mind drift away and let the line shuffle her forward.

She came back to herself as she handed her papers to the constable. He looked them over, looked her over, then handed them back. "Sorry for the delay, Mister Tanner. Got business across the sound, do you?"

"Yes." She cast a quick, nervous glance at the alchemist. "Haven't you caught that woman yet?"

The constable ignored the question. "What would be the nature of your business?"

"Banking."

"Banks don't usually send entry-level clerks out on official business, Mister Tanner."

"No, they don't." She slid her identification papers back in her breast pocket. "I've family across the sound, a cousin purchasing a bakery. If I can convince him to secure his investment with my bank, I may not be an entry-level clerk much longer."

The constable glanced back. After an agonizing pause, the alchemist nodded. Relief made Wren giddy, but not so giddy she forgot her role as Mal Tanner. She strode into the terminal, every bit the ambitious banker.

* * *

Despite her distaste of the clockwork men, Wren had to admit they were an impressive piece of technology. Noisy, what with all the clicking gears, but still impressive. That didn't mean she liked having to deal with them, though. Her face was now on the filmstrip behind the ticket kiosk's eyes, and record of her current identity's name and destination was on the carbon copy of her ticket stored in its left palm.

"The ferry to Ridgeway leaves from the Red Bay in twenty minutes. It will begin boarding in ten minutes." It gestured towards a pair of red pillars. "Have a pleasant journey, Mister Tanner."

She had hoped she could buy a ticket to Claymont and then hop the Ridgeway ferry, but there were clockwork men manning the doors to the bays. She fingered the pattern punched into her ticket. Perhaps someday, her guild would have the necessary information to forge a ticket.

Wren fed her ticket to the clockwork man at the Red Bay's door. It's eyes fixed on her, the lenses contracting, then snicking shut as it recorded her image. "The ferry will begin boarding in eight minutes. Thank you for your patronage, Mister Tanner. Have a pleasant journey." It spit her ticket back out with a new series of punch marks and swung the doors open.

Wren clenched her jaw and stepped into the waiting area. The polished benches gleamed in the sunlight streaming in through the glass wall. The ferry was moored outside and bobbed in the gentle waves. Yet another clockwork man stood before the door leading out to the gangway. How many did they need?

Wren took a seat facing the water and traced the punch marks on her ticket. She hadn't recalled seeing so many clockwork men in the train station, but then, she had been coming into Delmont on the train, not leaving. She had bought her train ticket from a clockwork man in Bosworth, but the train conductor had been a real person, a grandfatherly man who had helped her with her bags and complimented her on her cloche hat: "Don't see many women wearing hats these days. Pity."

Soon, she wouldn't see many men working as conductors. That was the pity.

The clockwork man announced the boarding call. Wren stood with the rest of the passengers. There were too few for her liking. It would be too obvious if she switched disguises on the ferry, so she'd have to wait until she got to Ridgeway. She didn't like that. She felt too exposed.

"Thank you, Mister Tanner." The clockwork man kept her ticket and motioned her through the door. "Have a pleasant journey."

Wren started towards the ferry. The clockwork man addressed the next person in line. "Thank you, Master Fulstorm. Have a pleasant journey."

Master Fulstorm? Wren bit down on her lip. He couldn't be! Dread squeezed her stomach tight. The alchemist? The one she had injured during her escape from the Alchemy Guild? And he was on her ferry?

She didn't dare look behind her. She could hear him following her down the narrow hallway. Fulstorm. Was his homunculus with him? Oh, that was a stupid question. Of course his homunculus was with him.

How had he recovered so quickly? His injury...she curled her free hand into a fist. She had gutted him so his homunculus would be forced to tend to him instead of pursuing her. Even with his homunculus's aid, Fulstorm should still be bedridden. And his homunculus shouldn't be able to hold human form.

Wren held her briefcase in front of her to hide her shaking hands. Her disguise would not fool the homunculus. She could change her hair, bind her breasts, walk and act like a man, but the homunculus would know her by scent and taste.

She walked up to the top of the ferry to stand in the open air. At this time of year, it would be too cold once they got out on the sound. Maybe it would be too cold for the alchemist, so she'd have the entire ride to think of a plan.

She laughed. Not likely. And sure enough, the alchemist followed her up. She leaned against the railing and watched him approach. His homunculus took up sentry at the top of the stairs.

The ferry shuddered and lurched away from the dock. Wren breathed out a little sigh of relief. At least Fulstorm wouldn't be able to drag her away to his guild in Delmont. Not that being dragged away to the Alchemy Guild in Ridgeway would be much better, but she still had time to think.

"Mister Tanner, is it?" Fulstorm asked, his voice thick with amusement.

She nodded. "So my papers say."

"And papers never lie."

"Not legal ones, sir."

Fulstorm stopped in front of her. "Why aren't you below with everyone else?"

"I desire privacy. And you?"

"I desire this woman." He unfolded the wanted flier with her likeness and activated the holograph. It was an impressive likeness, even down to the blue ribbons she had worn in her hair the day she stole into the Alchemy Guild.

"You and every alchemist in Delmont. Haven't you caught her yet?" She raised her chin. "No? That must be embarrassing for your guild."

"They say you're an entry-level banker, Mister Tanner. Do you think it wise for a man of your station to antagonize a master alchemist?"

"I won't always be an entry-level banker. If I didn't have ambition, I wouldn't be on this ferry."

Fulstorm stepped closer. Too close. She could smell his aftershave, sharp and spicy. "Oh? What business do you have in Ridgeway?"

"I've a cousin purchasing a bakery. I intend to convince him to insure his investment with my bank."

"Which bank would that be?"

"West Delmontian."

"You've the employment papers to prove it?"

"Yes. You've the authority to demand them?"

Fulstorm smiled and tucked away the holograph. "The woman's name is Wren Laurel. She's a master spy. If certain members of my guild have their way, she'll soon be a relic of a better age."

She sniffed. "I fail to see what this has to do with me."

He pulled a small doll out of his pocket. A small doll wrapped in a blue ribbon. Wren fought to keep her expression from betraying her.

"If she were smart, she'd wonder why she hasn't been caught yet. My homunculus is capable of tracking her down."

Wren sneered at him. "Is that so?" Word of Fulstorm's injuries hadn't made the newspapers, so she couldn't tip her hand. No, she'd make Fulstorm finish whatever game he was playing.

"Ah, but I don't give her enough credit. She knew what kind of injury I needed to sustain so she could buy enough time to sneak out of Delmont. It's a pity for her I know some excellent doctors."

Wren fought to make her tone haughty. "Yes, you seem to be the picture of health. What does this have to do with me, sir?"

Fulstorm's smile widened. "You're going to make me play this all the way through?" He produced a small key and fastened it to the back of the doll.

Wren felt it slice between her shoulders. She stiffened.

"Come and sit with me, Miss Laurel." He wound the doll, and Wren felt something in her spine snap tight.

"You mistake me for --"

The final turn of the key took her voice. Wren scowled at him.

"Come and sit with me, Miss Laurel," Fulstorm repeated. "And listen." He turned and headed towards the first row of benches.

Wren marched along behind him. And then she sat beside him, too close, but she could only control her expression.

"Where are the schematics you stole?" He toed the briefcase she dropped at his feet. "You're not foolish enough to keep them in there."

She scowled at him.

He chuckled. "Perhaps I've given you too much credit." He arranged the doll on the bench, and Wren found herself sitting with her arms slung along the back of the bench, her legs spread wide.

Fulstorm knelt in front of her, his hands warm on her knees. "Think, Miss Laurel. I could have taken you from your safe house on Hawthorn Street. You didn't know that, of course." He shifted and rubbed his stomach. "You thought I was in the hospital, and I was for two days."

She continued to scowl at him.

He reached up and removed her fedora. "I have to admit, the disguise is excellent. It must have been difficult to cut your hair."

Hair grew. In the meantime, she could wear wigs.

"You may speak." He waited, placing his hands back on her knees.

She could feel the heat of his palms through the fabric of her pants. Between that and the rocking of the ferry -- or maybe between that, the rocking of the ferry, and that damn doll -- her body was flushed and humming. She welcomed the sharp whip of wind. She could use it to excuse the flush spreading across cheeks. Her scowl deepened.

"As I said, think, Miss Laurel. I could have taken you in Delmont. Instead, we are on our way to Ridgeway." He leaned closer. "A city where my guild has a token presence and where yours has considerable influence."

She narrowed her eyes. "What game are you playing?"

"Perhaps the same one you are. Where are the schematics you stole?"

She had to answer. She could feel the reply building. She wanted to lie and tell him they were in the briefcase, but she couldn't form the words. So she couldn't lie. She pursed her lips.

"Third time, Miss Laurel. Where are the schematics?"

She couldn't lie. Could she tell part of the truth? "I committed them to memory." She forced herself to stop before she revealed that she had the originals layered between the cloth binding her breasts.

"I see." Fulstorm leaned back, but he didn't take his hands off her knees. "Do they frighten you?"

"Yes."

"Would you believe they frighten me, too?"

Wren considered him. "I'd be foolish to," she said slowly, but she was testing the idea in her head. It was a nice idea. She wanted to believe it.

He smiled. "Perhaps you would. But we are on our way to Ridgeway." He rose up, sliding his hands up her thighs, and then he was kissing her, slow and burning, like he had all the time he wanted to drink his fill.

He slid one hand up to her hip and tilted her head back with the other, his fingers firm and hot on her jaw. She should muster the strength to fight him, but her pulse strummed too loud in her ears, and she couldn't think.

Wren parted her lips. Bite, she should bite, but his lips felt too good and he smelled too good and -- oh gods -- she'd never been kissed like this, so slow and languid, a kiss for its own sake, not as payment for something more. She whimpered, hating herself for letting a kiss melt her down to her core, but there it was. She was splayed out before him, helpless, bound by that damn doll, and she didn't care.

He drew back. Wren found her voice, too ragged and wanting, but she needed to speak before he tried anything else and she was lost. "What game are you playing?"

"No game, Miss Laurel." His voice was husky, and Wren couldn't decide if that disturbed her or not. It put them on more even footing. Possibly.

She narrowed her eyes. Oh, how she wanted to believe him!

He rocked back down, curling his hands at her hips. "My guild, however, is playing a dangerous game, and not one I'd like them to win."

"I don't --" Her voice caught. She couldn't lie. "Make me believe you."

The glint in his eyes made her tremble. "I'll make you believe I desire you, Miss Laurel. Then we can discuss my other truths." He looked up at her, waiting.

She licked her lips. How long since someone honestly desired her? How long since she wanted this? She nodded before she could convince herself it was foolish, that it was the damn doll, not her.

Fulstorm unbuttoned her pants, and then he slid his hands under her, lifting and shifting her so he could strip her and her undergarments away. And then she was exposed for him, and he was kneeling before her like some...like some devotee.

He nuzzled her thighs, inhaling deeply. She was already wet, already slick, and she expected him to...well, she expected him to fuck her. This kneeling between her legs, this -- she gasped when he licked her -- attention was not...wasn't at all what men did when they said they desired a woman.

But he was doing it, and his hands were on her, stroking her thighs, tangling in the golden curls on her mound, sliding inside her to graze that perfect spot.

His mouth was still on her, teeth tugging at her lips, tongue teasing her bud. And she was powerless to stop him. No, not to stop. To guide him. But he didn't need guidance. And she didn't want to stop him.

Her thighs trembled beneath him, and she couldn't stop her own noises, high and keening. She shuddered around him, coming, but he didn't stop. Not until she came again and again and again until it hurt.

"Stop. Please." She was panting, too hot beneath him, too cold under the wind. She shivered.

He leaned back, slick from her wetness. The outline of his cock was hard against his trousers, but he made no move to touch himself. Instead, he pulled out a handkerchief and cleaned them both as much as he could, given the circumstances. Then he reached for the doll and forced her to her feet so he could dress her, his touch almost reverent.

"You're not sated," she said, staring at him.

He stood close enough so she could smell herself on him. He reached out and traced the line of her jaw. "How else can I prove I desire you, Miss Laurel, instead of my own pleasure?"

She swallowed. "You're playing a game. You'll have your guild waiting in Ridgeway."

"Pretend for a moment I'm not here. Pretend you made it onto this ferry without incident and that you disembark in Ridgeway without incident. What do you do then?"

"Go to my guild and make my report."

"And then?"

She gave him a thin smile. "Then I learn who betrayed me in Delmont. Someone in my guild gave me away to your guild."

"And then?"

She tried to shrug but found that she couldn't. "It depends on who. I may not have the power to do anything yet."

He stared down at her, his expression guarded. "I'll take you to your guild. I have information to enhance your report."

Wren narrowed her eyes. "Why would you do that?"

"I've imagined what Delmont will be like in a few years if my guild continues its expansion unopposed." He fingered the doll binding her, and she felt a tremor run down her spine. "And after Delmont, there will be other cities."

Wren shuddered. It wasn't the doll's doing. She believed him. It didn't matter if that was the doll's doing. It was her truth either way.

Fulstorm turned and walked back to the railing. He stared out at the sound, and Wren could feel him stroking the doll absently. "I want no part of that world, Miss Laurel."

"So you'd have offered your support to whoever my guild sent?"

"Your guild sent you because the client requested you by name."

"How do you know that?"

He glanced back at her, a tiny smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Think, Miss Laurel. If you know the answer by the time we dock in Ridgeway, I'll remove the key from your back." He turned back. "And then perhaps we can both be sated."

[lisateez]

A Week in the Metro

"Osterozhni. Dveree zkrivayetsya."

Irina Terashkova breathed a sigh of relief as the doors slid. She'd made it on board just in time.

There was no place to sit but then Irina hadn't expected to find a seat. A generous man might have given her his but for the young 20-year-old Muscovite, there didn't seem to be any of those in this car.

So Irina Terashkova stood by the door as the train pulled out of the station pretending to be aloof even as she wondered if any of the guys were watching her.

You are being watched.

Irina looked around. The thought in her head seemed, well there was no other way to put it, the thought seemed decidedly male.

I am male, and you are being watched.

Irina started, looking around the subway car, trying to figure out who was watching her.

I can see you but you can't see me. Nice ass you have there.

Someone was playing games with her. She didn't necessarily mind that. She could play games, too, but at least she wanted to know the players and the rules.

No rules. Just you, me, and that cute, little ass of yours.

Who are you, Irina thought.

She almost thought she could hear a chuckle in her mind. All in good time. If I told you, it would spoil the game.

The train pulled into the next station. Irina thought of jumping off and catching the next train but she didn't do that.

"Osterozhni. Dveree zkrivayetsya." Be careful. The doors are closing.

Still with me, I see. That's good.

I want to know who you are.

Again, the thought seemed to chuckle. How about we make that part of the game.

What do you mean?

Today's Monday. If you can figure out who I am by Friday, I'll let you go.

What do you mean you'll let me go?

Another chuckle. You didn't really think I'd let you get off the train, did you? We still had things to talk about.

Irina was getting scared because she had the sneaking suspicion that that just might be right. What do you want, she asked.

I want you.

Me?

That's right. I want you, but I told you. I like a good game. If you figure out who I am by Friday, I'll let you go.

And if I don't?

Then you belong to me.

I don't belong to anyone.

I wouldn't bet on that. You're easier to control than you might think.

Suddenly, Irina felt her pussy start to wetten.

See what I mean? Easy. So what do you say? Do you want to play a game, or should I just keep playing with your pussy.

Irina fought the urge to moan but her pussy was so wet.

Come on. Play a game with me.

Irina started to pant. I'll play. I'll play. Just make it stop.

That's not the way the game works but don't worry. I've got something for you to do.

What?

There's a man standing behind you. He's had a really bad day. His wife just kicked him out of the apartment because she got sick and tired of his drinking. His name is Igor. He likes your ass. Why don't you take Igor home and let him fuck you, and we'll talk again tomorrow.

No wait. Don't go. Who are you?

There was nothing.

Don't go.

There was nothing and Irina could feel herself turning. There was a man behind her. He had on a black overcoat and a black fur hat. He had a black beard and black eyes. "Is ... is your name Igor," Irina asked.

The man looked surprised. "Da."

Irina could smell the alcohol. Please no, she told herself, but she seemed not to be listening to herself. "Did your wife kick you out," she asked.

The man looked surprised. "How did you know that?"

"Do you have a place to stay?"

"I have a friend," the man began, "but his wife, she doesn't like me."

Irina couldn't believe she was about to do this. "Maybe you could spend the night with me," she suggested.

The man looked at her with growing interest.

"You are serious," he asked.

Irina tried not to look eager but she knew she was failing. She didn't want this man to fuck her and yet she did. She nodded enthusiastically even as she let a hand slide down inside the man's overcoat. She hoped none of her friends saw her doing this but she loved the feel of his cock in his pants. "Absolutely," she gushed. "I am very serious."

The man looked at her. Irina couldn't believe he hadn't already said yes.

"All right," the man said.

Now that she had her hand inside his coat, she didn't seem able to pull her hand back. She wanted to slip her hand inside his pants. She was able to restrain herself but she knew she wouldn't be able to restrain herself for long. "We're going to get off at Turgenaskaya," she told the man.

The man nodded and Irina knew she was going to have to lead the way. She didn't want to lead. She wanted to keep her hand on his cock.

She led the man out of the station. It was a short walk to her flat but it seemed like forever. She let herself into her apartment building. Normally, she would have checked her mail but not this time. This time, there was only one thing on her mind. She pulled the man to the elevator and she practically shoved him inside and even before the doors closed, she once again had her hand inside his coat.

The man kissed her and all the while, she kept her hand on his cock.

The doors to the elevator opened and Irina practically dragged the man out of the elevator. She'd always thought it sucked having an apartment that close to the elevator but now, she loved it. In moments, she had the door open and then she was pulling the man inside.

Over the next few minutes, the two of them shed their clothes, letting garments fall where they wanted.

The man still had his underwear on when Irina shoved him down on her bed. In moments, the underwear was gone and for the first time, she had her hand in actual contact with the Igor's cock.

She couldn't believe how wet she was. All she wanted was to please this man. She settled down between his legs and in moments, she was sucking his cock.

It was weird. She'd never even wanted to do this before but somehow this felt right. She loved the feel of his cock in her mouth and she loved the way her mouth made the man moan. She wanted to suck his cock. She wanted to make him cum. She wanted him to cum in her mouth.

It wasn't long before she got what she wanted. Irina wondered how she had gone without sucking cock for so long. All she knew was she couldn't ever go without sucking cock. Not after she knew the wonders of it. Sucking cock was the best and just to show him how appreciative she was, she climbed into Igor's lap and rode him until he gave her another load of cum.

Irina woke up the next morning with Igor there beside her. When she remembered how he'd got there, she was dismayed. What had come over her. She didn't go out and pick up strange men so why had she done it and why had she felt so happy to have his cock inside her.

The worst part was that she had no answer to her questions. All she knew was she had to go to work and before she left, she was going to have to get Igor out of her apartment.

She looked at her watch. She was late and that wasn't good.

The closest Metro station was Krasnay Vorota. She pulled open the big wooden doors and followed the stairs into the bowels of the station, queuing up with the other riders to go down to the trains.

She looked at her watch as she stepped onto the platform. It was going to be tight, but she might just make it.

A train pulled into the station and she stepped onto the car. "Osterozhni. Dveree zkrivayetsya." The doors closed.

So how did it go last night with Igor.

That thought. She recognized it. She'd forgotten the thought in her head but now she remembered. It had the same feel as what she'd felt before.

Well? How'd it go?

None of your business.

Is that any way to be.

I fucked a complete stranger, Irina thought back, stopping only then when she realized what she'd just admitted to.

So you enjoyed yourself.

That's none of your business.

Sure, it is. I want to make sure you enjoyed yourself. Did you suck his cock.

She wanted to tell him it was none of his business but before she could think what she wanted to say, her mind betrayed her.

I can see someone enjoyed herself.

That's private.

Not from me. So you liked sucking cock.

Yeah.

I bet you want to do it again.

She wanted to say no but once again, her thoughts betrayed her as she remembered what she'd told herself the night before.

Well now, I'm definitely glad to see you enjoyed yourself.

Shut up.

If the man was offended, he showed no indication of it. I think it's time we found another cock for you to suck. What do you think about that?

Once again, her thoughts betrayed her.

Excellent. Now, let's see. I think I know what we should do next.

What?

You wouldn't want me to spoil the surprise, would you.

What did you do?

You'll see.

I'm going to be late for work, Irina thought.

No, actually, I don't think you will.

The train rolled on through Lubyanka station and through Lenin's Library and on it went. Irina heard nothing more but she had the feeling that whoever the stranger was, he wasn't really gone. She wasn't sure he was ever completely gone.

The subway rolled into Park Kultury station and Irina along with a good number of other riders emerged from the car. She'd have to hurry, she told herself.

She was almost to the escalators when someone called out to her.

The man was an Army man. His job was first line of defense in case the Metro was attacked. She'd seen him before. Usually, he spent most of his time just walking around but now he was calling out to her. Irina stopped.

"What is your name," the man asked.

"Irina Terashkova."

"Can I see your papers please?"

"Yes, of course." Irina produced the documents even though she still had no idea why the man was asking for them. All she knew was that for some reason, she found the thought of being examined terribly exciting.

The Army man looked the papers over and he scowled. "I'm afraid you're going to have to follow me."

The man led the way through the station with Irina scrambling to catch up. She felt like a little kid racing to keep up with her dad only it wasn't her dad. It was this Army man, this Army man who was so fucking hot.

Irina had no idea why she'd never noticed it before. She'd passed the guy so many times before so why hadn't she noticed how hot he was.

The man came to a door and he pulled out a set of keys. He pushed the door open. Whatever this room was, it was small, just barely big enough for the old wooden desk and the two chairs it had inside. "Step inside, please."

Irina stepped inside and the man closed the door behind her.

"Have a seat," the man told her and again, Irina did as she was told, but the man didn't move around to the other side of the desk. Instead, he just perched himself on the edge of the desk. "Your papers," he said as he handed them back, "appear to be in order."

"So why did you bring me here?"

"Because there were a few things that warranted further examination."

Irina loved the way he said the word examination. It made her so hot. "What do you want to know?"

"For starters, you're not married. That is correct, yes?"

"Yes, I'm not married."

"Any boyfriends?"

"No. Not at this time."

"Why? A girl as hot as you should have boys lining up."

He thought she was hot.

"You are willing to put out, aren't you?"

"For the right guy," Irina said.

"I see. So now we're getting to the root of your problem, aren't we? You're too damned picky, aren't you?"

Irina shook her head. She didn't think she was picky but what did this have to do with whether she was a security threat.

"Do you suck cock," the man asked.

Up until last night, the answer to that would have been no, but now Irina nodded enthusiastically.

"So you suck cock," the army man said. "I suppose we should put that to the test. Why don't you suck my cock."

Irina had no qualms about giving the man exactly what he wanted.

She slipped down off the chair and her hands pulled on the man's zipper. She let her hand slide inside his pants. She couldn't help it. She just had to suck that cock.

Her hands worked at his belt. The man pulled himself off the desk just long enough to let Irina pull his pants and underwear down but then her hand was back again, back again on his cock. She needed this cock in her mouth.

The man groaned as the girl took him. "Oh yeah, I can see you really do like sucking cock," he said. "Oh yeah. That's it. Suck it. Suck my cock."

Irina loved having a man tell her to suck his cock.

The man groaned again and his hand grabbed the back of Irina's head, guiding her up and down on his cock.

The man groaned. "Oh fuck," he moaned as his hand tightened its hold on the girl's head.

Irina could feel it coming and she wanted it bad.

She could feel the cock surge and then the cock surged again. Without even thinking, she gulped what she could even as that cock shot more of the its load in her mouth and Irina couldn't help but feel proud as if doing what she was doing was really something amazing.

But the man wasn't done with her. He pulled her off his cock and then he turned her around. He lifted up Irina's skirt and he pulled down her panties. "Let's see if you fuck as good as you suck."

Irina knew she should resent it but her pussy was just so wet and willing. She moaned as she felt the man enter her. It just felt so good. There was no way to say no.

And besides, she wasn't sure she wanted to.

She moaned again as that cock took her. She couldn't help it. She wanted to feel that cock cum inside her.

And that's what it did, filling her up with its cum and Irina couldn't help but admit that it really did feel so very good to be fucked like this.

The army man pulled out and zipped his cock up. He looked at Irina. "I said your papers were in order," the man said. "You can go," and with that, he turned and left.

It didn't take long before Irina was out of the station. When she arrived at work, was told that a man had come by, that he'd talked with her boss, and that there was no problem with her coming in late this one time, but no one it seemed could remember what the stranger looked like.

Irina was still trying hard not to think about it the next day at work. Problem was she worked as a receptionist and it gave her plenty of time to think about what she wanted to forget.

Usually, Irina ate her lunch at her desk but on Wednesdays, one of the other girls would come down and spell her for a bit so it was her day to get away.

She didn't do it every Wednesday but there was a diner near the Oktobraskaya station where a lot of Americans liked to hang out. They said it was retro whatever what that meant. All she knew was it was a good place to meet American businessmen.

That day, she didn't meet any Americans. She just sat at her table and ate her overpriced meal. She got plenty of stares, but she didn't meet anyone.

Oh well, she told herself as she descended down into the station, it didn't work every time.

Of course not. You should be looking for Russian men to fuck.

Oh no.

You didn't think that just because you didn't hear me first thing in the morning that I was going to somehow leave you alone.

That was just what Irina had been thinking.

I know that's what you were thinking.

Damn, Irina thought.

I think we need to let you find a Russian cock to fuck.

Damn.

I know what you need.

Damn, Irina thought.

Keep on going straight on ahead and now the first entrance on the right.

Irina knew where she was being taken. She wanted to stop herself but she didn't. She walked right into the men's room.

There was a blond man, wiping his hands when Irina entered. He looked up and their eyes locked.

Not him. Go to the last stall.

Irina passed the blond man and walked to the last stall.

Wait for it.

Irina wasn't even sure what she was waiting for but then the door to the stall opened.

Say hello Boris.

"Hello, Boris."

The man looked startled. "Do I know you?"

Tell him you want to get fucked in the ass.

But--

Tell him.

"I want to get fucked in the ass," Irina said. She was sure she didn't want this but she couldn't stop herself from saying it.

"You want what?"

Irina couldn't believe she was doing this. She felt so dirty and yet it was making her pussy hot.

Tell him you want him to force you into the stall.

"I want you to force me into the stall," Irina said.

Tell him you want him to bend you over the toilet and fuck you in the ass.

"I want you to bend me over the toilet. I want you to fuck me in the ass."

The man was staring at the girl. He looked around as if not quite knowing what to believe.

Make him believe it.

How?

Use your imagination. Make him believe it.

Irina stepped closer to the man and she slipped an arm around his waist. Her other hand slipped down the front of his pants. She could feel his cock inside his pants. "I'm serious," she said.

I think he needs more convincing.

Irina rather doubted that. If what she was feeling in his pants was any indication, it seemed as if he were convinced enough but--

She unzipped his pants. She slid her hand inside. "I'm serious," she said. "I'm really serious."

Give him more.

Irina slipped her hand out of the man's pants and she moved into the stall. She bent down over the toilet and she wriggled her ass at the man. "I'm really, really serious."

She didn't have to look to know the man'd taken his cock out of his pants.

"I need to get fucked in the ass. I need it so bad."

Irina could hear the man unbuckling his belt. He pulled up her skirt and he pulled down her panties.

It wasn't long after that that she felt something else. She felt the man work his cock between her cheeks.

"Come on," she pleaded. She wasn't even sure why but it felt right. "Come on. Fuck me in the ass."

She could feel the head of his cock pressing against her and instinctively, her cheeks clenched.

Let him in.

I can't.

Yes, you can.

I can't.

You can and you will.

I can't let him fuck my ass.

There are worse things than getting fucked in the ass. Now, let him in.

Irina whimpered.

Just relax and let him in.

Irina took a deep breath and then she let it out and she got a cock in her ass.

If his grunt was any indication, Boris seemed to liked it a lot.

Irina whimpered. It was too much.

Tell him you want him to cum in your ass. He'll like that.

I ... I can't.

Yes, you can. Now, do it.

"Oh fuck," Irina moaned. "Oh fuck. I want you to cum in my ass."

The man didn't say anything but Irina was sure he'd heard her.

The man groaned again and this time, Irina felt it. It was tight before but now, it felt even tighter as his cock swelled inside her. Another grunt and another surge. Another grunt and still another surge. Oh God, she couldn't believe this was happening to her and what was worse, she liked it a lot having some guy cum in her ass.

Thank him for fucking you in the ass.

"Thank you for fucking me in the ass," Irina said.

Now pull up your panties and leave. Don't bother cleaning up. I want you to think about this all afternoon while you sit at work. I want you to think about how a good, nice, hard, Russian cock feels inside you. Have a nice day.

Irina was soon headed back to her job and all the while, she could feel the ever present reminder of what had just happened.

The next day found Irina wondering what the day held in store for her. There was a part of her that didn't want to know but what worried her more was that there was a part of her that couldn't wait to find out.

She almost expected the stranger to be on her morning train, but he wasn't so Irina figured she'd feel the stranger's touch on the way home.

But it didn't.

Maybe, she'd given him the slip. It was understandable really. She usually picked up a few items from the store on the way home but on Thursdays, she made her run at the market, so she'd changed trains at Lenin's Library and she'd made the connection to the blue line on Arbotskaya so she could go to her favorite market.

Baumanskaya is an interesting station. Many of Moscow's Metro stations have ornate fittings or murals but Baumanskaya has the soldiers. Clad in dark marble, the statues prowl the entrances to the trains, peering around corners, rifles in hand. She'd just returned from shopping when ...

Miss me?

Irina almost squawked at the presence in her mind. I thought you weren't coming.

Another chuckle. You should know better.

He was right. She should have known better.

So, did you miss me?

No, Irina lied. I didn't miss you.

Pity. What are you doing in Baumanskaya?

Irina didn't catch the import of the thought until she realized what it meant. She looked around. The station was still somewhat crowded but it wasn't as crowded as it could have been. Was he here.

I don't have to follow you to know where you are. Why are you in Baumanskaya?

What do you think?

I think you were shopping.

If you already knew, why'd you ask?

I don't have to answer that.

He was right. He didn't have to answer that.

Ready for your next task.

Irina wasn't sure how to answer that.

There's a girl, far end of the station. Her name's Svetlana. Long, blond hair. Her boyfriend's just dumped her and she's feeling sad. He's a jerk if you ask me. Make sure she gets over him before she leaves the station.

What do you want me to do?

No response.

Hey. What do you want me to do? Come on. This isn't fair.

Irina hadn't realized it but she'd been moving further down towards the far end of the station. Instinct took over and she moved towards the tracks, and there on a bench was a girl with long, blond hair, gently sobbing.

Gee, thanks, Irina thought to no one in particular. "Svetlana?"

The girl looked up. "Wh-who are you? How did you know my name?"

"My name's Irina. You look like you could use a friend." Irina set her bags down. Hell, the girl looked was no older than her. "What happened?"

"It's my boyfriend. He ... he dumped me."

"He dumped you?"

"He said he could find other women. He said he was too good to tie himself down to just one girl."

"He sounds like a bit of a jerk to me," Irina said and then remembered where she'd heard that first.

"Yeah, but I love him."

Irina wanted to scream. How the hell was she supposed to help the girl? This was stupid. She moved closer. She put an arm around the girl's shoulder. "You've got to get over him," Irina said.

"Yeah, but how."

God damn, this girl was cute. Irina wasn't sure why she hadn't picked up on it at first, but her lips were just so nice and full and her eyes had this really cool shade of gray.

It was almost as if the girl seemed to become aware of Irina on a whole different level. "Wh-what are you doing?"

God damn, this girl was yummy, Irina thought. She liked the way her tits made her jacket swell. Her jacket was so tight.

"What are you doing," the girl said again.

God damn, those lips were just so kissable. She couldn't help herself and truth be told, she didn't want to help herself. Those lips were so yummy. Oh geez. Those lips. Those lips needed to be kissed. Those lips needed to be kissed so bad.

"What are you doing," the girl asked again but by that time, it was obvious.

Irina's lips pressed against Svetlana's and she kissed her again and again. Unwilling at first, Sventlana's lips opened just a little at first and then more and more so.

Irina kept kissing the girl even as her hand worked its way inside the girl's jacket. It was as if she couldn't get enough of her lips.

And now, Svetlana was kissing Irina back. Her mouth no longer resisted the advances of the other but worked to encourage them.

Irina's hand cupped the other woman's breast and Svetlana pushed back. "Wait," she moaned. "Wait. I'm not a lesbian."

"Neither am I," Irina replied.

Svetlana looked at Irina and then her mouth broke into a sly, little grin. "I guess it's a good thing then that neither one of us is a lesbian," she said as she pulled Irina into yet another kiss.

After that, Irina had no problem slipping her hand inside Svetlana's jacket or unbuttoning her blouse or cupping the blond's firm, young tits.

"I love that," the blond moaned.

"What do you love," Irina asked.

"I love it when you touch my tits."

"You mean like this," Irina asked.

"Oh yeah," the blond gasped. "Oh yeah. I love it like that. I love it like that."

Irina kissed the girl. She loved kissing those lips. "I'm glad," she purred. "I'm glad you love it."

"You know what I really want?"

"What do you want?"

"I want to cum. My boyfriend ... my ex-boyfriend, he always came first. He said if I wasn't good enough to keep up with him, I didn't deserve to cum."

Irina shook her head. The guy really was an ass hole. How could you say something to a girl like this?

"Can you make me cum," the girl asked.

"You mean here? You mean now?"

The girl looked frightened, almost as if she realized she'd said something wrong. "Never mind," she said. "You don't have to do it."

"I don't have to," Irina said, "but I want to so tell me, are you wet for me?"

The blond nodded.

"Are you sure," Irina asked as her hand drifted over the blond's stomach.

"I'm sure."

Irina's hand opened the snaps on the blond's jeans and her hand pushed its way inside. "Are you sure you're wet," she asked.

"I am so wet," the blond said in a hushed voice.

Irina rubbed her hand over the blond's panties. "Wet enough to let me eat you out right here in the station?"

"Yes."

"In front of all these people?"

"Yes."

Irina pulled down the blond's jeans and panties. "Spread your legs for me," and the blond did as she was told. Irina slipped between the blond's legs. Her mouth dropped down and her tongue probed and the blond moaned.

"Oh God. That's it. Eat me there. Eat me there."

Irina's mouth knew what it needed to do.

"Oh fuck," the blond moaned. "Oh fuck. Eat me. Come on. Eat my fucking pussy."

Irina knew the blond was close.

The blond's back arched as her body succumbed to the inevitable. "Oh my God," she screamed. "Oh my God." Her pussy came and Irina ate and her pussy came again and again.

It was Friday and Irina Terashkova stood by the door as she rode the subway to work.

Moment of truth time. It's Friday. You know what the deal was. Name me and you can go free. Do you know who I am?

Irina was looking at a blond-haired man. He was wearing glasses and reading a book. He appeared to have no interest in her. The only thing was Irina was sure she'd seen him before, on Monday and Tuesday, and Wednesday and Thursday. Every time that voice had been in her mind, he'd been there.

The man looked up and he was looking at Irina as she looked at him.

Well. Do you know who I am?

Irina walked up to the blond-haired man.

Well.

She was staring at the man. No, I have no idea who you are.

You know what this means.

Yes.

You belong to me now.

Yes.

And by the way.

Yes.

That man you're staring at. That's not me.

[sara-c]

Two’s Company

[This story occurs in the same universe as Trinary, Homecoming and Hojōjutsu. But, while not exactly self-contained, it should be readable without reference to the other stories.]

Alex stepped into the carriage, waiting until the last moment before slipping through the rapidly closing doors. The train started off almost immediately, its strangely liquid movement oddly settling, although it was very clear that opinion was not shared by the majority of her fellow passengers. Crammed in among the sararīman, she found herself instinctively appraising each of them in turn, searching for threats amidst the cramped crush of bodies.

The signal had come through only moments before they had lost Hong Kong and, in the aftermath of that one unimaginable act, the Agency had simply ceased to exist. Hera’s final message had been filled with the usual fire and brimstone. It was a clarion cry, rallying the others to her cause. But neither Alex nor Agronā wanted to have anything to do with their sister’s crusade.   

If they could just get to Nagoya, then perhaps they would be able to join the growing throng heading up out of the gravity well. Shade had shown no interest in the Orbitals, and as a result they were becoming the destination of choice for any whose riders wanted to abstain from their internecine war. Alex had no idea how long that would last, but even transitory safety was better than remaining on the run.

Despite her attempts to keep a low profile, it was simply impossible for her to blend in. Standing just a shade over six foot, she managed to avoid seeming overweight, but the extra layers of subcutaneous fat still altered her shape enough to make her appear tubby. Her skin glistened unnaturally, (even when dry), as its water-resilient coating reacted to the local humidity. The bald pate drew even more attention, and left her no way to conceal the anodised chrome of her interface plugs.     

But her hands were the real give-away, and she had to fight the urge to shove them back into her pockets. Flaps of leathery skin spread between each finger and told everyone just what she was. Even though there was far more to her transformation, it was those webbed hands everyone saw. They were iconic and Alex could feel the atmosphere shift subtly against her as she was recognised as the worst kind of outsider. She was an Adapt, and her kind very clearly weren’t welcome here.

Unable, or perhaps unwilling to meet the gaze of any of the other commuters, she tried to distract herself by looking out through one of the spotless windows. For a brief instant she caught sight of the assembled platform crew, lined up beside the departing train and giving their traditional send off (which contrived to appear as half wave, half salute). And then, they were gone, washed into an indistinct blur by the train’s acceleration.

Agronā’s thoughts touched her very softly, an icy whisper that left its own slow dribble of condensation. She chose not to speak, instead communicating on a far more primal level. But despite the rider’s cryptic nature, Alex really had no difficulty in understanding what she was trying to relay. She was exposed, and it had been such a very long time since she’d resleeved that they would almost certainly have her face on file somewhere.

Cool approval slicked the surface of her mind, droplets of affirmation that left her feeling proud but almost utterly disgusted with her own predictability. Agronā’s laughter was like a winter shower, soft sleet melting instantly into ice water as it flowed down Alex’s spine. She ignored it as best she could, dropping heavily into the nearest seat and muttering stuttering apologies for the intrusion.

…

The Chūō Shinkansen maglev line ran between Tokyo and Shin-Osaka, but followed the Chūō Main Line as far as Nagoya. Despite the circuitous route, it was still the quickest way to the spaceport, especially once they left the underground section of the line and were no longer forced to curtail their speed.   

Exactly on cue, Alex felt the familiar pressure changes in her middle ear, as the last car emerged from the station tunnel. Almost immediately the train reached its cruising speed of around four hundred miles an hour; rocketing through the chaotic urban sprawl and out into the more natural randomness of the Japanese countryside.

She knew they were closing in on her. It wasn’t just paranoia; she really had felt a presence. It had been a wrench, to simply abandon everything and flee. But the spoor had been unmistakable, and so, following a well rehearsed routine, she had dropped everything and fled, pausing only to collect an overnight bag from the nearest locker. Then she had headed straight to the station, new identity in hand.

Before the extra expense of reserving a seat had seemed like an extravagance. But now she was here, Alex realised she would have paid at least twice as much to avoid being part of that press of sweaty flesh. However short the journey she had no desire to spend it trying to fend off the apparently ubiquitous groping hands. She considered herself to be pretty broadminded, but she really wasn’t in the mood for chikan.

Her rider’s hiss of surprise echoed Alex’s own, both of them sensing something amiss scant seconds before someone slid effortlessly into the seat opposite. She didn’t recognise the woman at first, but in her defence, Cassie was wearing a different body than the last time they had met. Still, there was something unmistakable behind those deceptively soft eyes and that brief glimpse brought everything back, familiarity adding a painful clarity of its own.

“Cas,” she began lightly, while her fists shook with the effort to retain control, “It’s been a long time. But you’re looking well, and how’s Inari?”   

“Too long,” the smaller woman agreed, “We’re fine, as I’m sure Agronā would confirm, if she wasn’t locked up so tight. What’s the matter, Alex? The way you’re acting anyone would think you didn’t trust us any more.”

“Can you blame me?” Alex asked softly, resisting the urge to reach out. She remembered how it had been, their minds linked so closely that all four of them had effectively become a single entity. But she pushed the memory aside, focussing instead on the bitter tang of betrayal. “We didn’t exactly part of the best of terms.”

“Things have changed,” Cassie suggested, after a moment, nodding her head as if in agreement. “Hera’s gone, and after Hong Kong the Agency has lost its teeth.”

“So much death,” she sighed, her voice thick with emotion, “Hera, Dusk … Susan. Where does it end, Cas? How can it end?”

“Why are you here, Alex?” the other woman asked, and there was no longer any softness in her eyes, “Are you picking sides?”

Alex glanced away, trying to ignore how badly her eyes were stinging. There was something about Cassie’s stare that she just couldn’t bear. Tears prickled at the edges of her vision, and she had to swallow hard, choking down the swell of emotion.

“I just want out, Cas,” she finally managed. “I’m not part of this, not any more.”

“Oh, sweetness,” Cassie smile coldly, seemingly unmoved by the other woman’s tears, “I wish I could believe that. Now, why don’t you try a little bit harder, and see if you can convince me?”

The first probing touch was so gentle Alex almost missed it. In fact, the only reason she detected it at all was because she had been expecting the attack, mostly because Cassie seemed to have forgotten that this was what the Adapt did for a living. Even still, those deft caresses had already slipped effortlessly through at least three layers of defences before she managed to lock them out.

She tore apart the strands of invasive code, letting Agronā analyse the assault while she focussed on how to respond. Even before the A.I. had been installed, Alex had been a specialist in electronic warfare. Since then she had continued to learn, using the extra processing power to augment her already prodigious talents.

“You’ve been practicing,” she suggested, using the distraction to rein in her emotions. “But I’m still better at this that you. And because of everything we’ve shared I’m going to give you one chance to back down. I don’t want to fight you, Cas, but don’t mistake reluctance for impotence. If I have to, I will rip your mind apart …”

Almost before she had finished speaking, Cassie gave her response. This time she didn’t bother with subtly, relying instead on brute force to overwhelm the other woman’s defences. Alex’s teeth ground together, as the sledgehammer of code slammed into her. The power behind it was incredible, and the attack hit with near physical force.

The world seemed to decelerate, and even her thoughts stuttered to a jerky crawl. She tried to shut down the connection, but everything was happening far too slowly. Reflexively, Alex scattered countermeasures, filling the air with viral chaff. Agronā tried to shield her from the worst of it, whispering icy reassurance as she sheathed her mind in glacial certainty.

“She’s stronger than before,” the rider whispered. “But she’s still not as strong as us, we can beat her.”

Alex just groaned, trying desperately to cling to that artificial calm while the invasive code coiled around her pleasure centres. The flames of arousal lapped avidly at her frosty shield, and despite Agronā’s best efforts, the ice began to run in trickling streams.

“Why are you here, Alex?” Cassie hissed into her mind, “Who sent you?”

Around her, the carriage receded, fading into a background of muted colours and muffled sounds. Alex knew the other passengers were still there, she could feel the warmth of their proximity. But that too was slowly ebbing, subsumed by the unnatural heat of Cassie’s attention.

She searched for an answer, recognising the fear behind the other woman’s words but unable to understand its source. Without warning, the code took hold of Alex’s senses, plunging her into darkness for a long moment that seemed to stretch on forever. Even Agronā’s chill presence was slipping away, leaving her more isolated than she could ever remember. 

“What happened to you?” Alex gasped, her fingers sliding helplessly from her rider’s grasp.

“Don’t play stupid with me!” Cassie’s voice screamed through her thoughts. “Tell me, and I’ll make this quick!”

Everything snapped back into place, painfully sharp and unnaturally clear. For an instant it seemed as if the illusion would hold, but it was just too perfect. And yet, even though she knew it was merely an induced, consensual hallucination, she was still unable to break free from its insidious grip. Alex’s hold on Agronā was growing increasingly more tenuous, and she knew that was all that stood between her and a reality entirely of Cassie’s making. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whimpered, hating herself for how weak it sounded.

The other woman’s cry of frustration ripped into her, tearing at her clothing. The fabric shivered fiercely and then, as the vibrations grew in intensity, it simply unravelled. The other commuters continued to ignore them, adding another layer to the building sensation of unreality. They were merely simulacra, unable to respond no matter what happened.

Tangled threads flowed from her body, floating impossibly between them. She knew it wasn’t real, at least intellectually, but her denial only seemed to speed the process. Her senses had already been convinced, and now it seemed only a matter of time before her mind also accepted. The disintegration of her clothing mirroring what was happening to her swirling thoughts.

“Tell me!” Cassie grinned savagely, talking hold of the twisting strands. “There’s none of Shade’s taint on you, but I can’t believe the Agency is still interested in me. Not after everything that has happened. Tell me who you serve, Alex. I want to know who you call Mistress.”

Alex didn’t get a chance to answer, before Cassie tugged hard on the hanging fibres. The thin cords snapped out, wrapped themselves tightly around first one wrist and then the other. Even before she could react, Alex’s arms were drawn upwards and outwards, pulling her roughly to her feet. More of the dangling threads lashed around her ankles, binding them to the seat behind her and stretching her body into an uncomfortably stringent ‘X’.

“No one!” she screamed, as Cassie added yet more cords to her bondage. “I serve no one!”

“So be it,” the other woman said, with deceptive calm.

Cassie gestured, flinging a single hair-fine strand along the length of the carriage. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she jerked the thread upwards, unerringly drawing it between the naked folds of Alex’s exposed sex. Cassie grinned evilly before she tightened her grip on the still swirling cords and began to pull. The captive woman could do nothing as the cord was relentlessly shortened. The pressure lifted her up onto her toes, ignoring her increasingly hopeless efforts to escape that unbearable friction.

“You will give me what I want, Alex,” Cassie promised, “Even if I have to suck the answers from the cum-soaked remnants of your bliss-fried brain. Just give me a name, sweetness. Tell me which bitch commands this kind of loyalty.”

The thread was pulled even tauter, biting hungrily into the burning heat of her cunt. Leg muscles trembling with the simulated effort, each shiver let the cruel tether vibrate against that exquisitely sensitive nub of tender flesh. Arousal drooled from her helpless lips, daubing the fibre with glistening droplets. More signals pounded into her pleasure centres, blurring the distinction between the real and virtual still further.

She could feel the invasive code worming its way through her thoughts. Soon it would bypass what little resistance remained and begin to gnaw at the core of her being. Given time it would even erode Alex’s personality, leaving her completely to Cassie’s not-so-tender mercies.

Cassie sawed the tortuous cord back and forth, making her want to scream. But no matter how savagely Alex was treated, it did nothing to quench her building need. The desire just continued to grow, a rising frustration that threatened to consume her utterly.

“Please,” Alex whined, not knowing or caring whether she was speaking aloud.

“A name, Alex,” her tormentor urged, “That’s the price, if you want this to end.”

“I …” Alex began, forcing the words past her gritted teeth, “I wasn’t talking to you.”     

…

The self-replicating virus that Cassie had used was a vicious bugger, formed from constantly mutating chains of distributed code. But that first assault had given them taste of it, just enough for Agronā to work on. All she had needed was time, and Alex had provided the perfect distraction. The two minds had worked in tandem, performing flawless digital legerdemain and forcing Cassie to concentrate in one direction while the real magic took place elsewhere.

Agronā’s fingers slipped between Alex’s and tightened. Her perfect world dulled perceptibly, becoming suddenly more jagged and tawdry. The shadows lengthened, forming eerie phantoms that mirrored this newly revealed reality, and left blurred afterimages in their wake.   

“Do you know why I kept this sleeve, Cas?” Alex asked, staring into the eyes of her tormentor’s double image.

She let the first soft pulse echo through Cassie’s body, keeping the energy as low possible. It was gratifying to see her former friend’s expression dissolve into one of confused excitement. Alex remembered that look all to well, the stunned surprise of just how good it could feel. The second pulse was a little more forceful, and far more accurately targeted.

“They had me shadowing bombers, Cas,” Alex explained, as the virtual world began to fracture and pixellate. “Hunting down missile subs and hacking their systems remotely. And while I’d have never risking ‘going active’ when I was out there, you have to admit, if I keep the power output low enough, this sonar makes one hell of a sex toy.”

Steadily she let the sound grow louder, firing ping after ping into the smouldering depths of Cassie’s already aching pussy. At the same time Agronā back-traced the viral assault, and began to upload her own attack programs into Cassie’s headware. Alex leaned across the narrow plastic table and whispered into the wide-eyed woman’s ear.

“You can’t say I didn’t warn you, Cas,” she breathed. “Just remember, you brought this on yourself. Now … why don’t I show you how much better the real world is compared to all that virtual crap.”         

The other passengers couldn’t miss Cassie’s reactions, and whereas their imaginary twins had studiously ignored the two women’s antics, it was clear that in reality they weren’t going to be so lucky. As her fingers dug into the seat, knuckles whitening with the effort, the commuters around them began to exchange worried glances.

Cassie tried to fight it, trashing in her seat as she struggled to rise. But by the time she realised the danger, Agronā’s attack had already hit Cassie’s motor centres and robbed her of the ability to stand. That didn’t stop her from arching helplessly, clawing at the armrests and moaning out her desperate need.

“I’m not your enemy, Cas,” Alex told her, gently. “Despite everything that has happened, I never was. But you are going to tell me what’s going on, even if I have to make you.”

“Screw you!” Cassie screamed defiantly, even as the first orgasm washed through her.

In response, Alex simply increased the frequency of the pinging, letting each echo nail the shuddering woman’s throbbing clit with pulses of pure delight. Harmonics ran ecstatically through Cassie’s body, each reverberation adding another note to the increasingly powerless woman’s pleasure. 

“If you insist,” she smiled thinly.

Then, just as another climax threatened to crash over the trapped woman, one of the sararīman finally plucked up enough courage to intervene. He lurched to his feet, flailing overhead for the emergency alarm. Agronā barked a warning, sending torrents of frozen concern cascading over Alex’s neck and down between her shoulder blades.

…

She groped blindly for the train’s systems, searching for a flaw in its unsophisticated security. The task took only a fraction of a second, but even that brief distraction proved more than sufficient for Cassie to launch her own counterattack. Agronā startled cry filled Alex’s mind with a blizzard of razor shards as feedback lashed the pair.

The commuter hammered the panicbutton, while the other passengers sunk low in their seats as if trying to appear even more anonymous. But, Alex’s intervention had isolated the system, and instead of the strident alarms he had no doubt expected, the businessman was rewarded with nothing more than a soft click.

There was no time to celebrate their success; they were too busy trying to shrug off Cassie’s reflexive attack. Alex continued to pour energy into the other woman, rapid bursts of sound that ricocheted back and forth seemingly at random. But the pulses were growing increasingly unfocussed, missing their target and turning what should have been mind-melting ecstasy into an erotic but ultimately resistible full-body massage.

Alex could feel the control slipping away, and Agronā’s muffled hisses left her in no doubt that the internal conflict wasn’t going any better. Cursing softly she tried to ignore the white-noise buzzing in her ears. Alex knew she had to concentrate, but then so did Cassie and she wasn’t about to make it easy for her opponent.

Quite suddenly the character of the signal changed, static resolving into a dull throb that shook Alex to her core. It took a moment to recognise the recorded sounds, and then they were drilling relentlessly into the still trembling walls of her once again helpless cunt.

“Stop it!” she screamed, even as her traitorous body responded to the reflected assault.

Agronā was already in motion, even before Alex’s thoughts were fully formed. Alex watched, with the uncomfortable sense of detachment as the A.I. rocketed still more deeply into Cassie’s mind, bristling with attack software. Neither of them wanted to harm their former friend, but they couldn’t allow themselves to be taken and right now self-preservation simply overrode all other concerns.

The A.I. plunged, riding the electronic attack straight back to its source. Her software was clearly struggling to render the chaos within, glitching with the effort. And then, quite suddenly she burst through an intangible barrier, and was gone. All that was left for Alex to cling to were her rider’s parting words.

“Oh …” Agronā’s voice gasped, as if from a great distance, “Bollocks!”

…

Echoes of stolen desire rolled through Alex’s body, each pulse forcing a soft groan from her tortured throat. She cast about for Agronā’s touch, wanting that steely conviction now more than ever. Code tickled deep inside her brain, sliding between the neurones and spiralling hungrily around her limbic system.

Again the world around her began to unfurl, virtual origami that threatened to leave her once more naked and helpless. She shivered, anticipating the sharp touch of that biting thread long before it even touched the swollen flesh of her pouting lips.

Alex could feel her choices slipping away, her defences stripped as easily and efficiently as her clothing. Faced with the inevitability of surrender, her will failing even as the gleaming cord shifted its first shuddering inch, Alex took the only other path she could imagine. She tumbled after Agronā, letting her consciousness follow the faint whispers of her rider’s startled oath.

Photons swirled, pinwheeling into a wide fractal window. The illusion captured her, and Alex felt herself dropping, even while she fought to abandon that distance awareness. She slid through the narrow strands, feeling them fade into the background. And then she was through, falling heavily into the centre of the construct.           

She didn’t know quite what she had been expecting, although what she had felt through the link with Agronā suggested the worst. But not even her most fevered imaginings could have anticipated the scene that awaited her once her consciousness had pierced the fragile boundary of Cassie’s implants.

It took only a moment for her to realise that the urgent groans filling the perfect sphere were emanating from the whirling maelstrom of flickering golden liquid that hung in its centre. And, by the time she had recognised Agronā’s soft voice, the other occupants had already claimed her attention. 

Two minds sharing the same body. That was the fundamental reality shared by every rider and their host. But here, in the depths of Cassie’s mind she found not two but three separate entities. Her former friend’s consciousness was instantly recognisable, but of Inari there was no sign. Alex stared at the two silhouettes flanking her, as they warped and shifted. The figures refused to remain still, becoming increasingly more dynamic as she struggled to bring them into focus.

More code scrolled behind Alex’s eyes, flowing over the surface of her suddenly pliable brain. She could feel it picking at her thoughts, teasing them gently apart and leaving her open to whatever her attacker had planned. But that wasn’t the knowledge that sent slick pangs of fear skittering over her scalding skin and into the depths of her avatar.

“Oh Bollocks, indeed!” she whimpered, as the pitch black figures finally resolved into recognisable shapes.

…

“She didn’t know,” the taller of the two announced, frost forming around every syllable.   

“Neither of them did,” agreed her less protean twin, gesturing at Agronā’s captive form.

Alex tried to touch her rider’s thoughts. She could feel them so clearly, although their sense was clouded and indistinct. A thrill rang through her, as her mind brushed against Agronā’s. Desperation and fear mingled with the heat of her inflicted passions, but Alex had no words to soothe her companion’s terror.

Three separate worlds fought to hold her attention, and the dizzying kaleidoscope spun hopelessly out of control. Part of her was still sat in her seat, unnaturally still, as her thoughts were picked apart with deceptive ease and the anxious commuters tried unsuccessfully to raise someone on their mobile phones.  Another piece stood bare in that same carriage, strung up for all to see and pleasured beyond endurance. But most of her attention was focussed here, in the hidden core of Cassie’s mind.

“But,” she began, “you’re dead!”

“Not quite,” the dark shadow whispered.

“They tried their best,” the pale woman continued, “First Hera, then our dear daughter.”

“She didn’t know,” the other sighed, while a cold mist flowed from her lips.

Alex blinked in confusion, her fear momentarily forgotten. She still didn’t know what was happening, but at least for the moment her captors seemed willing to talk and answer her questions. Agronā touched her weakly, barely grazing the surface of her thoughts, but the encouragement was still clear. She had to keep them talking and buy them some more time.

“I don’t understand,” Alex admitted.

“Shade thought we were dead,” the shifting figure explained, “when she glassed the Agency. And we very nearly were.”

“I was pretty far gone by the time Cassie found me,” her twin continued. “Radiation sickness. And we didn’t have time for the social niceties.”

“Cas?” Alex asked, wonderingly.

Her friend stared back, an expression of sadness carved into her otherwise beautiful features. With the smallest of nods, the other two granted her permission and the words spilled breathlessly from Cassie’s lips.

“They needed a body,” she said, coldly, “And Inari was never one to share. She didn’t stand a chance, Alex, neither of us did. They just took what they wanted, and brought me here. I’m so sorry, love. We thought you’d come for us … but I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“That’s sweet,” whispered the icy spectre, dismissively, “But we need to focus. I can’t contain this situation; we’ve got a carriage full of panicked passengers, and as soon as we stop they’ll be telling their stories to anyone who will listen. The maglev track itself might interfere with any scanning attempts, but it’s not going to protect us when news of what happens here gets out.”

“Well,” the other figure countered, “We knew this was only a temporary measure, it just lasted far more briefly than we expected. No matter. It was always going to come to this, but before we decide what happens next we need to sort out what we’re going to do with her?”

Sensing the conversation slipping away from her, Alex blurted out the first thing that came into her head. Her mind was already playing catch-up, trying unsuccessful to keep ahead of her racing mouth. She felt Agronā’s wince, but ignored it. They were all out of options, but that, paradoxically, had always been when she was at her most dangerous.

“Take me with you,” she said, more forcefully than she’d intended.

“What?” Three voices demanded almost simultaneously.

“Hear me out,” she pleaded. “You asked me if I had chosen a side, well now I have. Let me help you, and I can get us all off of this rock. I don’t know if the Orbitals are truly as safe as they say, but it has to be better than staying here.”

“And then what?” the pallid woman asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Alex admitted, “Whatever you want, I suppose. But I do know this; this war isn’t going to stop until one side has utterly destroyed the other. No one involved is going to try to end it before that happens. In fact, the only one that would have any chance of making them see reason is someone they all know and respect.

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t want any more blood on my hands. So, if I was to make any suggestion, it would be that you use your influence to finish this, before it gets any worse.”

“What makes you think they’ll listen to us?” the shadow hissed, angrily.

“Because you created them,” Alex replied, feeling the A.I.’s anger rippling over her skin, “And because the most dangerous of them all is still your daughter.”

“Okay,” Susan allowed, “Now, why don’t try a little bit harder, and see if you can convince us?”

…

They slipped away as soon as the train came to a halt, ignoring the other passenger’s futile attempts to restrain them. Alex felt light-headed, but the nascent vertigo didn’t seem to hamper their progress. Dimly she was aware that something had changed, and Agronā obviously shared those concerns, adding her own anxieties to that heady mix of emotions.

Something had happened after she made her deal, but no matter how hard she tried to remember, her memory refused to cooperate. It was maddening, but Cassie wouldn’t even acknowledge the question when she’d asked her about it directly.

By the time they reached the shuttle, Alex had decided that enough was enough. But, as she began to slow, ready to demand answers before she would take one more step, a single droplet of frozen flame splashed onto her brainstem, and just for an instant, her heart forgot to beat. Then, just as suddenly, the sensation was gone and, as the darkness receded, she found herself on her knees.

“What the hell did you do to me, Dusk?” She groaned, struggling but still unable to rise. “What is this?”

“Insurance,” another surprisingly gentle voice whispered in her mind, before a second icy tear reminded Alex of her new obligations.

…

[lisateez]

Since I don't consider space ships and airplanes the same ...

Free Willie

"Los Peurtos Space Center, this is the Persephone. Come in Los Puertos."

"Persephone, this is Los Puertos."

"Los Puertos, we are a hundred and three hours out and we have a medical emergency."

"Go ahead, Persephone. What is your emergency."

***

Willie Jaeger heard none of this. She was lying face up on the floor of the cabin, her body just barely clinging to life as a doctor worked on her.

"She's not going to make it, is she," asked the co-pilot.

The doctor looked up and shook his head.

The co-pilot felt helpless as he looked down at the woman on the floor. He and Willie had gone out and had a few drinks together on layovers but it had never been more than that, not that he hadn't tried. She'd always been just a little too reserved to allow anything more to happen but he'd had a feeling that in time ...

Well, time had just run out.

***

"You're sure," the captain said. "That's our only option?"

"That's your only option and captain?"

"Yes?"

"It's your decision but you should know that even if you do this, her odds are still only maybe one in four."

"Understood. Persephone out."

***

Niles Rodgers was a man of action. It took him barely a second to decide what he was going to do. He'd never had a person die on his ship before and if there was even a chance he could keep that record intact, he was going to take it.

"Take over, Rudy," he told his flight engineer. "I'm going into the hold."

"Yes, sir."

Niles Rodgers moved into the cabin. The passengers all locked in on him as he moved through the cabin but he didn't have time to stop. He looked at his First Officer. "Come on, Pete, we got work to do."

The hold was neatly organized but even so, it still would have been easy to find what they were looking for. There were only two crates back there that were of the right size and of the two of them, there was only one that they really wanted. They pulled it down off the shelf and then they took a crow bar to it.

It wasn't long before they had it open and then the two men looked down at its contents. "This is it," Rodgers said. "Let's get it up to the cabin."

Willie Jaeger was still barely clinging to life when the two men arrived. "Now, you can do this," the captain asked the doctor again when he and his First Officer finally came back with the crate's contents.

"Please," the doctor said. "Engramatic transfer is simple once you know how."

"But you do know how."

"Do I ask you if you know how to fly this ship?"

The captain shook his head.

"Then don't ask stupid questions of me."

The doctor went to work. "Cover her eyes with this," he said.

"Why? What's this do?"

"Reduces shock. Just do it."

The doctor worked quickly but the real question was whether Willie's body would last long enough to survive the process.

***

Willie Jaeger moaned as consciousness came back to her. She was confused. Something was wrong. Where was she?

"Shh, shh, shh," said a voice. "Relax, Miss Jaeger. I am Dr. Hurtado. You've just been throgh a difficult procedure but everything's going to be all right. Everything's going to be all right. Now, let me have you talk to the captain."

"Willie, this is Niles Rodgers. Are you okay."

"I ... I think so. What happened to me?"

"A power conduit blew in the galley. It knocked you out."

"I survived a PC blowout?! You've got to be kidding."

There was a pause. "You survived," the captain said finally, "but we had to do something radical."

"What did you do," asked the panicky flight attendant.

"It's called an engramatic transfer."

"I know what an engramatic transfer is, Niles. Transfer the thoughts and memories into another, but you have to have a host and last I looked, we didn't have any spare bodies lying around."

"Actually um, actually we did."

"Huh?"

"They were, um, they were in the hold."

It took Willie a couple of seconds to process that. "Oh no," she said suddenly, "you did NOT do that."

"It was the only way to save you."

"You put my thoughts in a sex bot."

"It was the only way to save you, and Dr. Hurtado says these bots are fully loaded, that they have full tactile capabilities and a near infinite capacity to learn, so really, it's a top notch body you've got there, better than a human host in fact.

"I don't care what it is. It's a fucking sex bot. How can I do my job, Niles. I'm not going to go around the cabin having guys stare at my tits. Oh my God, I got tits."

"Yeah, but listen Willie. It was the best we could do given the conditions."

"So what the hell did you do with my old body."

"We got it in cryo so they can grow you a new one when you get to Los Puertos."

"Seems like you thought of everything, except--"

"Except what?"

"Except you haven't let me see my body yet."

"The doctor thought it would be better to give it to you a little bit at a time."

"Niles?"

"Yeah."

"Let me see my new body."

"All right."

A cloth was being removed from across her eyes and suddenly, she could see again. She blinked and then she blinked again as her eyes adjusted themselves to the light in the cabin.

Niles, she recognized and Pete was there, too. The elderly man was probably Dr. Hurtado. "How do you feel," the doctor asked.

"I feel fine," she said.

"Are you sure."

"I feel fine," she assured them. "Really, I feel fine."

"All right then. Can you stand?"

"I think so." Willie tried to stand. Her body tottered slightly but then she regained her balance.

"Take it easy," the captain said. "Are you sure you're all right."

"Of course I'm all right," Willie said. "It's just that I'm off balance. I'm not used to having tits like these, and where the hell are my fucking clothes?"

"They're still on your old body. They um ... we um ... we didn't think they'd fit your new body."

"Is that right?" Willie was mad but as mad as she was, she had to admit that the man was probably right but that didn't mean she had to like it and what she really hated was her new body wore only the skimpiest of bikinis. Damn, not only am I stuck in the body of a fuckin' sex bot, but it looks like for the rest of the trip, I'm going to have to go around looking like one.

"You're sure you're going to be okay?"

"I'm fine, I guess. I mean, I guess I don't have any choice, do I?"

The captain shook his head. "I'm really sorry," he said. "It was the best we could do and it's only until we get back to port. We'll use the DNA from your old body to grow you a new one and you'll be back in your new body in no time at all, okay?"

Willie nodded.

"And take some time off," the captain told her. "I know this has to have been a bit of a shock to you--"

Willie laughed. "That's a bit of an understatement."

"I know this has to have been a bit of a shock," the captain said again, "so take some time off. The passengers can get their own food and drinks."

Willie shook her head. "No, really. I need to keep busy to keep my mind off of ..." She looked down at herself. "Off of this."

"All right, but don't overdo it."

"I won't," and then just to show the captain that she was ready for duty, she walked back to the shuttle's galley.

The captain watched her go and then he nodded to himself. "Come on," he told his first officer. "Let's go." He looked at the doctor. "Keep an eye on her, will ya?"

"Of course," the medical man assured him.

Away in the galley and out of the sight of the others, Willie cupped a hand under one of her new tits. She eased her breast out of her top. She couldn't believe it. It wasn't like she hadn't had tits before but she'd never had tits like these. Her tits had always been a bit on the small side but these were definitely not small. She slid the other breast free from her top. She couldn't believe it. She finally had the larger breasts she'd always dreamed of having. She held her new breasts in her hands. Too bad it was only temporary she thought.

It wouldn't do to have someone come and find her playing with her tits so as much as she didn't want to, she shoved her tits back in her top.

She peered out into the main cabin. The captain and the first officer seemed to have gone back to the bridge and the passengers seemed to be paying no attention to her. Everything, it seemed, had gone back to normal, and in a way, Willie found that disquieting. She'd just been hurt in a major accident. Didn't she warrant a little more attention than that? She knew that was unfair. In fact, she'd gone out of her way to tell them she was okay, but still.

She got up. She might as well go take care of the passengers, she thought, and show them at least that everything was just fine. She started out into the main cabin and then she stopped herself. These shoes, she thought. She'd never liked heels before and six-inch heels were highly impractical. She should take them off.

But then she'd be out of uniform.

She wasn't sure where that thought came from but she understood it. Even if she wasn't one, she was dressed like a fucking sex bot. Sex bots had big tits. Sex bots wore skimpy bikinis if they wore anything at all. Sex bots wore a tag around their neck identifying their owner and for the first time, Willie noticed she had one, too. And when sex bots were on their feet, sex bots wore high heels and if that's what it meant to be in uniform, Willie thought, well she could do that. It just wasn't the uniform she was used to.

The passengers seemed to accept it. At least, no one seemed to be saying anything but Willie could feel their eyes on her and it made her hot to know they were watching. It made her so hot. She went back to the galley when she was done and she fingered herself to a nice, hard orgasm. It made her so very hot.

She found she'd become more clumsy. She seemed to be dropping more things and when she bent over to pick them up, she couldn't help but wriggle her ass as she straightened up. She'd tell herself she was being clumsy but she knew she liked having the people watch her do what she was doing.

There was one guy that seemed to be getting more attention than all the rest. He sat on the aisle, midway through the cabin. He'd been a problem from the moment they'd left. He wasn't the first. Willie had had plenty of passengers like him before, guys mostly, who wanted to spend the whole trip ogling her. Creeps, that's what they were.

Of course, now that she looked like a fucking sex bot, she was getting even more attention. That was understandable. What Willie didn't get was why she seemed to be playing to the creep. It was almost as if he had something she needed but for the life of her, she couldn't figure out what that was.

He'd come back from the lavatory and he was heading back to his seat and she was tending to another passenger. It was her fault, really, but when he'd tried to get around her, she'd kind of pushed back with her her ass.

He'd put his hands on her. He'd put his hands on her ass and then as if that wasn't enough, he'd let one of his hands slide between her legs. "Take it easy there, sweet cheeks," he'd told her.

Sweet cheeks. That wasn't her name, so why had she liked it.

He'd come back into her galley a little while later. "Can I help you, sir," Willie'd asked.

"I'm looking for a little something to drink."

"Certainly, sir. What would you like?"

"I think you don't understand. The drink's not for me. It's for you."

"Sir?"

Willie could see the man opening up his pants and taking his cock out, and she knew what she was supposed to say when confronted with a situation like this but just the sight of his cock was enough to get Willie excited. It had been such a long tome since she'd sucked a cock and she couldn't wait to suck one now.

"Well," said the man. "I'm waiting."

This was way against the rules. Willie knew that but Willie also knew what she wanted to do, and besides, who really would tell on her. She knew she wasn't going to tell and she was pretty sure the guy wouldn't tell so she crouched down in front of the man and she took his cock in her hand and she started to suck.

It wasn't long before she had the man groaning and it wasn't long after that before she had the man coming in her mouth and Willie just couldn't help herself. She just kept licking and sucking and she drank it all down and when the man was done, she found herself wishing there were more.

But there wasn't.

"All done," the man asked.

Willie nodded.

"Taste good?"

Again, Willie nodded.

The man zipped his pants up. "Well, you know," he said, "if you're good, I might let you have another taste before we get into Los Puertos. Would you like that?"

Willie nodded eagerly.

The man might have been a creep, Willie thought, but it seemed as if he wasn't the only one. It seemed as if ever since her accident, Willie seemed to be growing more and more popular with the passengers on the shuttle. She wasn't sure why but all she knew was as the trip wore on, Willie found herself spending more and more time with the passengers (and it wasn't just the male passengers) and she found herself getting more and more popular.

***

"Doctor, could I speak with you."

"Certainly. What is it?"

Willie shook her head. "I don't think you understand. Could I ... um ... could I speak with you in private about the ... you know ... about the procedure you performed?"

The doctor nodded. "Yes, of course. Should we go in the back?"

"That would be fine." The man got up and followed the woman into galley in the back of the shuttle.

"Doctor, I'm wondering if there might be a problem with the transfer."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm finding myself wanting to do things that I don't think I've ever wanted to do before, but I think I remember doing them.

"Like what?"

"Like fucking a guy I don't even know and loving it or like letting a girl eat my pussy."

"Uh oh. I was afraid this might happen."

"You were afraid what might happen?"

"Normally, doing an engramatic transfer, you'd wipe the host before you did the transfer to get rid of any latent memories, but you were right on the edge. We didn't have time for that and the sex bot had been powered down so we figured there wasn't that much of a risk, and--"

"And what?"

"It looks like there might have been some latent memories and directives still lingering in the sex bot's mind. There certainly had to be something in there."

"So how do we get me out of here?"

"What do you mean?"

"When we're done, how do you get me and only me out of this body?"

"You can't. You're integrated with whatever was in there. Trying to separate you out would be like trying to separate one molecule of water from another. It can't be done."

"Oh."

"Are you okay?"

"I think so."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, I think so. In fact, you know what?"

"What?"

"Now that I think about it, I don't think I ever properly thanked you for saving my life."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, doctor. Look at me. Look at my body. You can't tell me you don't want to know what's it's like to have your cock in my tight, little pussy, and you know what I am, doctor. I'm a sex bot, doctor. My pussy was made to be nice and tight and wet, so how about it, you want me to show you just how thankful I am?"

"Ms. Jaeger! I am a married man."

Willie stepped closer to the man. "I don't mind," she said. "I like married men."

"Ms. Jaeger, please."

"Mmm, that's what I'm trying to do. I only want to please you."

"Ms. Jaeger, stop it. Stop it right now."

Willie took a step back and she paused. "You're ... you're right," she said hesitantly. "I ... I don't know what came over me."

"It appears there was more of that programming left intact in the sex bot than we knew."

"Yeah."

"I am sorry, Ms. Jaeger."

"Call me Sindy."

"Sindy? But I thought your name was Willie."

"Oh shit, it was. I mean it is. My name's Willie. That's my name. Willie. That's right. That's who I am. My name is Willie, Willing Willie."

"Ms. Jaeger!"

"What?"

"You've got to learn to control yourself."

Willie seemed to pause again. She shook her head. "You're right," she said. "You're right. I have to learn to control myself."

"You know who you are," the doctor said. "Focus on that and exercise your control."

Willie shook her head. "You're ... you're right, doctor. I need to control ... control me."

"That's right," the doctor said. "Say it again. I know you're still in there. You need to reassert yourself. Say it. I am in control. I am in control of me."

"I am in control," Willie repeated. "I am in control. I want the doctor to control me."

"Ms. Jaeger!"

"It's no use," the woman said. "I know what I want and you're telling me not to want it and every time I say what you want me to say, I know it's wrong. I know that deep down inside, I'm only saying it because you want me to.

"Ms. Jaeger."

Willie took a step closer to the man and then she took another step closer. Her hands lightly traced their way over the front of his shirt. "I only want to please you," she said. "You know that."

"Ms. Jaeger, I told you. I am a married man."

"Come on," Willie pleaded. "You owe it to me."

"Ms. Jaeger," the doctor said again but with less intensity than he had before.

Willie took another step closer and her hands slid around his waist. "You don't really want to say no, do you?"

"But I'm married."

"Is your wife here?"

"No."

"Then what does it matter? Come on, doctor. I know you want me. I can tell these things. It was what I was programmed for. I was programmed to be able to tell. I know these things."

The man didn't say a thing.

Willie took a step closer and her body was pressing up against the doctor's. "I know you like me," she said. "I know you like me. I can tell. I know you like my tits. I know you like my body. I know you like my long, blonde hair. I know you like me."

The man just stood there.

"I know you like my body," Willie said again. "I know you like it. Would you like to feel my body. I know you would. All you have to do is put your arms around my waist."

The man just stood there until Willie pulled his hands up and looped them around her waist.

"There now," she purred. "Doesn't that feel better, doctor. "You can feel my skin, can't you. You can feel my skin. It feels so soft and smooth, doesn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah. I know what you like, doctor. You like feeling my skin, don't you. You like it that I'm wearing my skimpy, little bikini, don't you because it means more skin for you to touch. Do you like my skin, doctor."

"Yes-s-s-s."

Willie's hand slid down the front of the man's pants. "Mmm, I can tell you like it a lot, don't you, doctor."

"Yes-s-s-s."

Willie's hand continued to stroke the man's cock. "I know what you want, doctor. I know what you want."

"Yes."

"You want to fuck me, don't you, doctor. You want to fuck me."

"Yes."

"I want it, too," Willie said as her hand continued to work its way over the man's pants. "I want it a lot."

The man didn't say anything but then in a way, he didn't have to. He could feel what the girl's hand was doing. He knew she was pulling down his zipper.

Her hand slipped inside his pants and then she was wrapping her hand around his member and slowly stroking it. "Oh, doctor," Willie purred. "That's quite a cock you have there. Do you want me to take it out of your pants?"

"Oh yeah," the man groaned.

"Are you sure, doctor. Are you sure. I mean, if I'm going to take it out, you know what I'm going to expect you to do with that."

"Oh fuck," the man groaned.

"Do you want me to take it out?"

"Oh God," the man groaned.

Willie's hand continued to squeeze the man's cock, to squeeze him and to stroke him. "What's that," she purred. "I'm afraid I didn't hear you. What do you want me to do?"

"Take it out," the man groaned. "Take it out."

The woman grinned as her hands opened the man's pants. Moments later, she was pulling his pants down and then down came the underwear and once again, her hand wrapped itself around his cock. "Now tell me again, what do you want to do with this?"

"Fuck you," the man groaned. "I want to fuck you."

The girl pulled the strings on either side of her bikini bottoms and suddenly, the bottoms pulled free. "If that's what you want," she purred enticingly, "then I think you better come and get it."

The doctor pushed Willie up against one of the galley's counters.

"Oh, doctor," Willie purred. "Oh, doctor. You know what I want. I want to get fucked. I want to get fucked so bad. I want to get fucked by your cock."

On some instinctive level, the man knew it was wrong but there was just something about this woman that was so ... so ... so alluring. He couldn't put his finger on it. It wasn't that she was beautiful, but God she was beautiful. He couldn't put his finger on it but there was just something about this woman that made his dick so fucking hot. There was just something about this woman that made his cock so fucking hard. He was harder than he'd ever thought possible. He needed to fuck her. He needed to fuck her so bad.

Willie seemed to sense his need. Even as the man pushed her back against the counter, her legs came up and wrapped themselves around his waist. "Fuck me," she moaned. "Fuck me."

The doctor didn't waste any time. He buried his cock between the girl's legs and he reveled in the girl's moans. Her pussy was wet. Her pussy was so fucking tight. He rammed his cock inside her. He couldn't take it. He just couldn't help himself. He kept fucking her harder and harder.

Her legs seemed to almost be pulling him into her pussy. The man had the feeling that he couldn't have pulled out of that pussy even if he'd wanted to, but then he didn't want to pull out.

He needed to cum. He knew it and she knew it, too.

"Come on," the girl moaned. "Come on. Do it. Cum in my pussy. I know you want to. Cum in my pussy."

The man groaned.

"Cum in my pussy," the girl said again. "Cum in my pussy. Cum in my pussy."

The man groaned and then he groaned again and that was all it took. His cock was cumming hard in that tight, little pussy.

***

The intercom buzzed on the bridge. "Captain Rodgers, you're needed in the back."

The captain sighed. This wasn't a good time. They were getting close to Los Puertos Space Center. "We're kind of busy up here. Can't it wait?"

"No, sir."

The captain looked at the other crewmembers on the bridge and then he sighed. "Take over," he told his first officer. "I'll be back in a minute."

"Yes, sir."

Niles Rodgers walked back through the cabin to find Willie Jaeger standing there waiting for him just inside the galley. "You wanted to see me," he asked.

Willie nodded. "I want you to do me a favor."

"A favor," the captain said. "You called me back here to ask you to do you a favor?"

Willie nodded.

The man shook his head in disbelief. "The favor," he asked, "what is it?"

"You said my body's in the back, right?"

"That's right. "We got it on ice until we can get back into port and then we can haul it out and clone up a new body for you."

Willie bit down on her lip. "What if I don't want a new body?"

"Come again?"

"I, um, I don't want my old body back. All I really want is to fuck. Nothing else matters and the body I have now, this body was made for fucking."

"That body you're in, it's just a loaner. It's owner is going to want it back."

"I don't care. I can't go back to the way I was."

The captain shook his head. "That body you're in, it's the body of a sex bot. Everyone knows that. The only reason a sex bot exists is to service the sexual needs of others. If you were to stay where you were, you'd be nothing more than an expensive sex toy whose only purpose in life was to give sexual pleasure to others. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

Willie was quiet.

"You wouldn't want that," the captain said again. "You'd be nothing more than a sex slave."

"But I'd get to fuck all the time, wouldn't I?"

"You can't be serious," the captain said.

"I don't want to go back to my old body. I just don't."

"But--"

"Look, no one has to know I survived that accident. For all anyone needs to know, I died in the accident. Just pack me back in the crate where you found me and deliver me to my owner and then you let me take it from there."

The captain shook his head.

"Please, Niles, please. I want this. I'm not the same person as I was before. I've been changed. I need this. I really do."

The captain still couldn't believe what he was being asked to do.

"Please," the woman pleaded with him. "Please. No one has to know."

"Everyone on board knows you survived."

"But they don't have to know what really happened to me. As far as they will have known, we just went our separate ways. Come on. Please. I want this. I want it so bad."

The man shook his head again and then he seemed to come to a decision. "Come on," he told the woman. "Follow me."

The man led the way into the hold of the ship and then he pointed at a box. Willie recognized the bax. It was the crate she'd been packed in.

"Get in," the man told her.

Willie climbed into the crate and she laid down.

"One last chance. Are you sure you want to do this," her captain asked.

Willie nodded.

"All right then, deactivate."

Willie's face went blank as consciousness oozed away from her. She wasn't sure whose thought it was but her last thought before her mind finally faded to black was that she'd be waking up soon and when she did, someone would want to fuck her and she knew she couldn't wait because she knew she wanted to be fucked. She knew she'd always wanted it and she knew she always would want it. It was, after all, what she was made for.

[Mudak]

Riding the Bus with My Master, by Mudak

(With apologies in advance to Rachel Simon, whose work, Riding the Bus with My Sister, is a touching memoir involving a disabled loved one.  In this story, you could argue that I’m the disabled one; I may want to be, um, touching someone, but that’s another story altogether.)

Day One
I didn’t really think much of him when I first paid my fare to the driver.  I was still looking around for a place to sit or stand when the bus lurched forward and I found myself standing in front of him.  His hair was neither short nor long, and he had piercing green eyes.   The last thing I expected him to do was stand up and give me his seat.

“Well, I guess chivalry’s not dead after all, huh?” I said to the woman who was now sitting on my right as I smiled at this nameless guy.  The woman next to me ignored me, but he didn’t.  You know how some guys when they look you in the eye can be creepy and others can be disarming?  This guy was a little bit of both.  He had an intensity in his eyes that made me think he was either a Chippendale or a stockbroker.  Who knows?  Maybe he’s a stockbroker by day and nude dancer by night. 

The weird part, of course, is that I couldn’t look away from his eyes.  I fidgeted uncomfortably in my seat, but every time I blinked or turned my head away, I found myself drawn back to him. 

My grandmother used to repeat this saying from the “old country” that eyes are the window to the soul.  I don’t know if there’s any truth to that, but if it is true, then he was just what my soul needed.  In his eyes, I saw calmness, peace, and serenity.  I’m not sure what he saw in my eyes, but he probably saw how nervous I was riding this bus.  After all, it was my first day at work, and I wanted to make a good impression to the boss and coworkers, and I was nervous about what it would all entail.  I felt as though I could gaze into his eyes all day.  Here’s hoping that he wouldn’t have to leave the bus before I get off ... the bus that is.

He never spoke to me.  Or at least, I don’t think he did.  Not until we got to my stop, anyway.  That’s when he said it.  “I think this is your stop, Stephanie.”  Did I tell him my name?  I don’t think I did, but I must have.  That stop came by awfully quickly, too.  I thought the bus ride was about twenty minutes; it only seemed as though I’ve been on the bus for five minutes, tops.

I straightened out my skirt, stood up, and thanked him as I walked back towards the front of the bus.  He quickly took his seat back.  On a whim, I asked the driver if he knew anything about the guy who gave me his seat.

“There’s ones like him in every city.  He’s what we call a professional bus rider.  Name’s Dmitri.  As far as I know, he doesn’t have a job.  He’ll be on this one bus all day, watching people, maybe interacting with them.  You can consider yourself lucky, young lady.  He picked you out.”

“Will he be on this bus tomorrow, too?”

“Probably.  If he wants to see you again, he definitely will.”

My heart skipped a beat.  Maybe I could do something to get him to want to see me again.  Looking back to him, I flipped my hair over my shoulder and waved good-bye to him.

With a small flourish I stepped off the bus and proceeded to my first day on the job.  I thought I saw the driver make some kind of gesture back to the other riders, but I’m not sure what he did.  With the slight belch of a diesel engine accelerating, the bus took off for its next stop. 

I wish I could tell you more about how my first day on the job went, but it was kind of boring.  Mostly meet-and-greet type things, a lot of paperwork to fill out, and complaints about how my phone and computer weren’t up and running yet.  Honestly, I was just looking forward to the bus ride home, hoping that Dmitri would be on the bus I’d use to go home.  Not that I could tell anyone that, of course.

Anyway, five o’clock came rolling round and I waited at the bus stop a block away for my bus to take me home.  As it pulled up to the stop, I got on and paid my fare.  Eagerly, I scanned the faces of the people already on the bus.  Sadly, Dmitri wasn’t there.  I wanted to ask the driver if Dmitri was on this bus but I decided against it.  I’m not even sure if the driver even knew Dmitri.  Oh well.

The rest of my night was by and large uneventful.  A microwave dinner in front of the television.  A little light reading.  I was feeling unusually tired, so I turned in to bed a bit early.  I fell asleep in no time.

Have you ever had a dream that was so realistic, so believable, that, even after you wake up, it takes you a short while to come to grips with the fact that it didn’t actually happen?  It was a sensual dream.  Not a whole lot to it, but damn!  I dreamt I was looking at myself in a full-length mirror, slowly taking off my clothes.  Primping and fawning over myself.  Running my hands up and down my sides, maybe even occasionally slipping between my legs. 

The weird thing about this dream is that I’ve never really looked at myself in *that* way before.  But in this dream, I was so beautiful, so sensual, so hot, I turned myself on.  For a brief moment, I thought I saw Dmitri in the mirror, behind me, but it was only for a moment.  And then I woke up.  I was lying comfortably in my bed, and was actually a little bit embarrassed to see that my hands were over my own breasts.  Good thing nobody else saw me there, ya know?

At any rate, I fell back asleep fairly quickly and I slept like a baby the rest of the night.

Day Two
So I woke up the next morning, took a shower, and rummaged through my closet for an outfit to wear.  I found a skirt suit that showed off a little bit more cleavage and a little bit more leg than I had worn the previous day.  Nothing unprofessional, I just wanted something to make me feel a little more ... sensual.  You know, just in case I saw Dmitri and just in case he wanted to see a little bit more of me.

I let out a little giggle that made me feel like I was a schoolgirl again as I thought that.

So as I was waiting down at the depot for the bus to arrive, I couldn’t sit down and found myself fidgeting impatiently until the bus would round the corner and head towards me and the other people waiting.  Everyone else seemed calm, detached.  Hopefully I wouldn’t have to fight with any of them for Dmitri’s attentions.  The possibility that he might not even be on the bus only briefly crossed my mind.  He had to be on this bus.  He just HAD to.

It was a rough wait, and I didn’t really have anyone to talk to while I was waiting, but soon enough, the bus came rolling towards me and my fellow potential passengers.  I quickly took my place at the front of the queue waiting to get on.  A couple of people seemed upset that I jumped in front of them, but nobody said anything.  I smiled at the driver as I deposited my fare and stepped out into the aisle.  Looking around, I saw Dmitri sitting with a calm, almost detached look on his face.  I moved towards him.

He looked up, smiled, and offered me his seat again.  I giddily sat down where he had been sitting.  The bench felt so warm and I looked up at his chiseled, intense face.  Yes, this was right.

In a low monotone, he said, “You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you, Stephanie?”

My heart skipped a beat as his voice echoed in my head and throughout my body.  I got lost in his eyes.  Those beautiful, powerful green eyes.   I’m not entirely sure why it is, but my dream from the night before came back into my head, vividly and with all of the passion and force it had when I woke up the night before.  And then, just as in my dream, I got the sensation that he was standing behind me when the dream ended. 

Of course, this time the dream ended when Dmitri told me that it was time for me to get off.  Get off the bus.  I kept thinking about the different meanings of “get off,” and Dmitri had been in the center of all of them.  I wanted to get off another way, but that wasn’t about to happen.  Not anywhere outside of my dreams anyway. 

As I stepped down onto the sidewalk, I wondered whether Dmitri could read my thoughts.  Whether he made me remember that dream, brought it to the forefront in my memory and could tell what my thoughts were.

Work was more of the same as it was yesterday.  The only way I got through the day, was by thinking about my dream and hopefully being able to pick up where I left off in my dream the night before.

So I finally made it through the day and decided to take a bath in place of dinner.  A nice warm, sensual bath. 

When the bath was over, I toweled myself about halfway dry and then I decided to go straight to bed.  The sheets clung to my naked, damp body.  I’ve always loved that feeling.  In no time whatsoever, I could feel myself drifting into a deep, satisfying sleep.

In no time, I was dreaming again.  Dancing, naked, in front of that long mirror.  Watching my hands move up and down my body, exploring it as though I’d never seen it before.  Then I saw a flash of green behind my head.  Dmitri’s eyes.  I stopped my hands and turned to face him as he stepped out behind me, with his hands on my waist.  He lifted one hand and pointed back at the mirror. 

Even without his saying a word, he was right.  It is much more sensual to watch yourself and the guy you’re with, than just the guy himself.  He took my hands into his and together we caressed, pinched, and otherwise explored my body together. 

The dream was so real, so vivid.  But at the same time, if you’d asked me if he was wearing any clothes, I couldn’t have told you.  All I saw of him were his face and hands. 

Day Three
I was awakened by the sound of my alarm clock going off.  It was such an amazing dream, it felt like it really was happening.  So sensual.  So powerful. 

I picked out some clothes for the day.  I was feeling naughtier today than I had been the day before.  But I still needed to look professional.  So I decided to wear clothes that were cut the same way as yesterday’s, but this time I decided I would forego a bra and panties. 

I arrived at the stop not two minutes before the bus came rolling around the corner.  I patiently waited my turn and stepped through the door and paid my fare.  I winked at the driver as I looked down the aisle and there, sitting with his back to the window to my right, was my Dmitri.  I confidently sidled up in front of him, placed my hands on my hips, and waited to see how he would react. 

As he started to stand, I put my hand on his shoulder and guided him back down into the seat.  I then sat down in his lap and took in his beautiful green eyes.  “Good morning, Dmitri.”  I’m not sure how it sounded to Dmitri or anyone else on the bus, but my voice had a dreamy, ethereal quality to it as it echoed in my ears. 

He flashed a crooked grin at me as I felt his eyes probing deep into my soul and I became awash in the beauty.  Should I not think about that beautiful dream with him from the night before?  Could I?  Even if I could, would he be able to see my thoughts and dreams?   It really did feel as though there was nothing in the world about me or my actions, that Dmitri couldn’t find out about if he wanted. 

Some people might be concerned about this level of a lack of secrecy.  Knowing things about me, personal things, financial things, emotional things, historical things.  Yes, Dmitri could know it all if he wanted.  All he had to do was ask and/or know where to look.  And it just felt right.  He deserved to know it all.  Dmitri could be my past and future.  He already is my present, at least while the two of us are together on this bus. 

I took his hands and placed them between my knees; I leaned back slightly in an invitation to explore more.  In my dreams the previous night, his hands did a great deal of exploring and it felt right.   But that was a dream and this is reality.  I want his hands on every inch of my body.  He’s off to a good start, I was thinking, but I need more and he needs more. 

His hands weren’t as probative as they were in my dream.  But the dream did appear in my head as I felt his eyes boring into my psyche.  I could feel my nipples stiffen against the fabric of my blouse and it probably immediately became obvious that I wasn’t wearing anything underneath to support my chest. 

And then I felt it:  his lips touching mine.  The moment of bliss was shattered when the bus came to a halt and I knew that my job awaited me. 

I’ve only had this job for three days and already I hate it.  I wondered how Dmitri makes a living.  The driver said that all he does is ride the bus all day.  Every city has people like Dmitri in it.  I wondered if I could be like him and just stay on the bus all day. 

Even if I could, at least for now I’ve got to trudge through the hassle and boredom of this job.  I think my boss realized that I’m not really enjoying my job the way he probably hoped I would.  I’m trying.  I really am, but it’s hard.  And there’s nobody good in the office to have an affair with.  At least, nobody like Dmitri.  He was all I wanted.

All I really waned is for the day to be over and get back to those dreams with Dmitri.  I’m usually more patient than this, but this was important.  I’ve been finding myself going to bed earlier and earlier every night, sleeping longer and longer.  Enjoying these dreams.  I wondered if I should start out by dancing naked in front of my mirror before going to bed.  You know, to, um, stimulate my subconscious. 

Dancing naked in front of the mirror didn’t have the same impact as the dreams.  Maybe because Dmitri wasn’t there, couldn’t be there.  He didn’t know where I live.  Or did he?  All of this thinking, hoping, wishing, wondering took a lot out of me.  It was time for bed.  If Dmitri didn’t come to me in my awake state, he’d be there in my dreams. 

Before I knew it, I could see myself dancing in that mirror again.  And then came Dmitri’s hands and face.  Even in my dream, I found myself wondering whether I should let him touch me or if I should take some initiative myself. 

I let him run his hands with mine alongside of my body. This time, though, once his hands were perched comfortably over and around my breasts, I took my hands and reached behind me to see what I could feel.  His arms were long and muscular.  I had to bend backwards to reach his bony shoulders, his warm, slightly hairy chest.  His stomach that trembled at my touch.  As I reached further down, I could tell, at least in this dream that not only wasn’t I the only naked one in my dream, I also wasn’t the only one who was aroused. 

I turned to face him, never diverting my eyes away from his.  I moved my hands upwards to take his hands into mine and guide them back to get a solid grip on my ass.  I then grabbed his and pulled him closer.  I then moved my hands up to his shoulders and gripped them tightly.  Taking a deep breath, I jumped up and wrapped my legs around his waist, all of my weight balanced in his strong hands. 

I’ve had sex in my dreams in the past; sometimes involving men I knew, sometimes involving celebrities, and sometimes completely faceless.  This was unlike any sex dream I’ve ever had.  It felt so real, so right, so perfect, that, when I had an orgasm, I actually woke up.  Disoriented, but awake.  I ran my hand down to my legs and felt a slight flowing stream gliding down my inner thighs.  Made me wonder if the real thing was anything like that, with Dmitri.

I quickly fell back asleep as the waves of calm and contentment rolled over me.

Day Four
When the alarm went off this time, I’d never felt so alive, so rejuvenated.  I took my time in the shower and decided that today I would wear a halter top and a miniskirt to work.  If the prudes at work didn’t like it, well, fuck them!  This was how I wanted to dress.  For me.  And Dmitri.  But not work.  It was liberating not wearing underwear yesterday, so that’s how I decided to dress today, too. 

And Dmitri thought I was naughty the other day.  Wait ‘til he sees how naughty I could be.  I got a tingle between my legs just thinking about it.  Today was a good day for being naughty on the bus, too.

You know that song by Nirvana, with the line “I’m so excited / I can’t wait to meet you there / And I’m not scared.  / I’m so horny / That’s okay my will is good.”  I kept having that line go back and forth in my head, trying to convince myself that my will is good.  It would only be a short while more before the bus would roll towards me and I’d be able to do something with Dmitri.  He didn’t have a choice in the matter.  He was mine.

And there was the bus, slowly moving towards me.  It ground to a halt and I pushed over a couple of people to be the first one on.  I quickly paid my fare and scanned the bus for Dmitri. 

He was sitting all the way in the back this time.   That’ll make the ride bumpier.  And more exciting.  I practically ran back to see him.  In no time, I was standing in front of him, lost in his eyes once again.  He didn’t even try to stand up as I inched closer to him, my hands on his knees.  He smiled at me with a look that betrayed the fact that he knew exactly what I wanted, and what we were about to do. 

I casually undid his pants and straddled him.  Bus seats aren’t exactly the most comfortable place to do it, but I’m flexible and resourceful.  With each bounce of the bus, each bounce of my body against his, I felt an immense pleasure build.  And all I could do was stare into his eyes.  I simultaneously felt the grinding of our bodies and the memory of the previous night’s dream; they merged in my mind to create something magical, sensual, beautiful. 

He clutched my back with his hands and drew me closer to him.  As far as I was concerned, the only people on the bus were him and me.  I had a relatively light orgasm that made me want him to cum even more.  I decided against saying something to this effect.  But soon enough, I could feel him inject me with an added warmth.  I got what I wanted and responded in kind.

And the timing couldn’t have been more perfect.  My stop was approaching.  As I started to stand up, he whispered in my ear.  “Your conditioning is complete, Stephanie.”  I wasn’t sure what he meant by this, but it was time for me to go to work.  I let out a loud sigh as I straightened my skirt and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

About ten minutes after I walked through the front door, my boss approached me and told me my dress wasn’t appropriate.  I’d need to change clothes if I wanted to stay.  Well, I really didn’t want to stay anyway, so I told her that I quit and returned to the street to pick up the next bus home.  Too bad Dmitri wouldn’t be there.  So I waited patiently for the bus to arrive and I stepped up onto the bus and paid my fare. 

I found an empty seat about halfway down and slumped down into it.  Suddenly I felt really tired.  I figured it wouldn’t hurt anything to fall asleep on the bus.  Sleep.  Dmitri.  Beautiful eyes.  Dmitri.  Yes.  Naughty.  Sleep.

I dreamed that I was sitting in my seat and that Dmitri had just stood up to give me his seat.  Just like a few days earlier.  I caught Dmitri’s eyes but this time he was talking and I could hear what he was saying.   He asked me my name and I told him.  If that really happened the other day, that explained how he knew my name.

He kept talking.  “Over the course of the next three days, you will surrender yourself to me, mind, body, and soul.  Three days hence, you will be like me, a professional bus rider.  Always seeking out someone to surrender to you.  Just like I sought you out.

“The trick is in the eyes.  Get eye contact and they will see your intensity, your beauty.  And they’ll be powerless to resist, just as you are powerless to resist me.”

After about fifteen minutes of conditioning like that, I felt as though I was ready to find my first subject.  The bus came to a stop and I saw a tall, attractive young woman -- maybe two years younger than me -- get on.  I think I should offer her my seat.  Let’s see what happens.......

[badpenny]

Clockwork Utopia: Errant Spark

Rachel hated zeppelins. It wasn't just that one errant spark could make the thing explode. It was that there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, if something went wrong. She should have refused the job once she learned the client wanted the target eliminated on a zeppelin. It was bad enough the target was an alchemist. Alchemists were hard to kill, at least until you took out their familiar or homunculus. Then they were mere mortals.

This alchemist had a homunculus. Not that homunculi were really different from familiars -- according to the intelligence purchased by her guild, they were created the same way, but homunculi were intended to hold human form while familiars were fashioned as animals -- but it was good to know the little details. Sometimes, the little details meant the difference between a successful job and a botched job.

As the Red Swan, Rachel had never botched a job. She didn't intend to ruin her record now. She studied the passengers in the waiting area, looking for her target. Nobody matched the holograph her handler had given her, so Rachel settled down on one of the benches facing the door.

Everything in the terminal -- glass and brass and warm, polished wood -- gleamed in the rising sun. Rachel shielded her eyes with her closed fan. At least amongst the wealthy, zeppelins appealed to a range of people -- the young newlyweds wishing to travel in the latest style, the eccentric ladies who fancied themselves bold and daring because they traveled without male companionship, the foolhardy old men who found air travel some grand adventure. Rachel had no desire to travel with her handler, so today, she was one of those eccentric ladies, Miss Abigail Millwin, a spinster traveling to Ridgeway to escape the advances of her latest admirer and the pressures of her parents to finally give in and marry.

The identity would appeal to the target. Rachel unfolded the holograph, but she didn't activate it, just glanced at the sketch before tucking it away again. The target was young, no more than two years out of her apprenticeship, and a little bird of a girl, too thin and bony to be considered beautiful. Still, there was something attractive about her bearing, the challenging tilt to her chin and sly look in her dark eyes. Bony or not, Rachel was sure the woman had her share of admirers.

And Rachel was sure independence factored into the woman's decision to become an alchemist. The target was from the Green family, a wealthy merchant family in the habit of arranging socially advantageous marriages for its women. The grooms in those sorts of marriages either wanted some young, pretty thing to dangle off their arm or some young, rich thing to infuse the family coffers. They rarely wanted some young, intelligent thing with a mind of her own.

The target arrived ten minutes before the boarding call. Her homunculus trailed behind her, tall and nearly as thin and bird-like as its mistress. Rachel flicked open her fan and fluttered it lazily. She really should have turned down the job. Killing an alchemist on a zeppelin! Oh, it was an interesting challenge, but one best suited to an intellectual exercise.

Well, too late now. Her guild did not let its members change their minds once a job was accepted. If she walked away now, a new woman would take up the Red Swan mantle, and Rachel would find herself on the wrong end of a contract. Her handler probably had someone watching her now as insurance.

Not for the first time, Rachel wondered at the client's strict demands. The target had to be killed on the zeppelin between the time it passed over Delmont and landed in Ridgeway. Ideally, the death would be ruled accidental, but it could not be ruled as an obvious assassination. The client was playing some sort of game, and her guild was the tool. No different from many of the other assassinations she performed, but Rachel was damned with a certain amount of curiosity. She liked puzzling out the bigger picture.

"First call to Ridgeway," the porter announced, swinging open the door leading out to the landing field. The zeppelin was one of the newer models, large, with semi-private compartments and a dining area. Its red paint was fresh and bright against the emerald of the grass.

Rachel took her time smoothing her skirts and gathering her bags so she was in line behind the target. At least zeppelin travel had one advantage -- all the personnel involved were actual people, not those clockwork men the Alchemy Guild were pushing everywhere. Real people had faulty memories, so if things went wrong, Rachel was comforted that the porter and the passengers would give the constables conflicting information about her appearance. Provided they were on the ground, she had a greater likelihood of shedding her identity as Abigail Millwin and slipping away in the confusion.

Her target had reserved a compartment designed to seat four all to herself. Rachel was in the next compartment, sharing it with a young bride and groom and the bride's older uncle. "A chaperone on a honeymoon?" she asked with an arched eyebrow and she stowed her bags.

The young bride blushed prettily. "A matter of convenience. Uncle Renyolt traveled all the way from Ridgeway for the wedding."

The groom's expression -- carefully neutral except for some strain around his eyes -- told the rest of the story. Uncle Renyolt had paid their zeppelin fare. They were at his mercy until they landed in Ridgeway and perhaps even after. A pity, and if Rachel weren't on assignment, perhaps she'd dredge up some form of mercy and charm the uncle in joining her for a drink to give the young couple a brief moment of privacy.

"Where is your chaperone?" the bride asked as Rachel settled into her seat.

"I'm past the age of requiring one." She flicked open her fan, signaling a polite end to the conversation.

Renyolt coughed, but at Rachel's pointed look, he did not comment. They sat in stony silence until the captain announced their departure. Once they were safely in the air, Rachel rose and made her way to the dining area. The flight to Ridgeway would take six hours. At some point, the target would emerge from her compartment, if only to use the facilities just off the dining area.

Two hours in, the target walked into the dining area alone. Her timing couldn't be better. All the tables were full, and were Rachel the target, she would not feel comfortable sitting with the gentlemen lined up at the bar. Rachel smiled invitingly as the target searched the room for an empty seat.

"You're welcome to join me," Rachel said, rising as the woman approached, tentative, like a bird. "The table seats two."

"I don't want to impose."

"Oh, you would be doing me a favor." She lowered her voice. "These gentlemen see a woman sitting alone and think she must need companionship."

"Oh, yes, I've experienced that." The target smiled, sly and wicked, and now she was nothing like a bird. "A pity your table only seats two."

They sat together, and a waiter quickly came to take the target's order. "Coffee," she said, "black with a splash of whiskey."

Rachel raised an eyebrow after the waiter withdrew.

The target's answering smile was sharp. "You're in no position to judge. Scotch?"

Rachel raised her glass in a toast. "Yes. I'm finding air travel disagrees with me." That was true enough. Every time the zeppelin hit a rough patch of air, it lurched uncomfortably. At least in a ship, one could see the waves coming, and on board a train, the regular strumming of the car on the tracks was almost soothing.

"This is your first time on a zeppelin?"

"Yes, and probably my last unless my mood improves." She took a sip of her scotch and set the glass down with a sigh. It was good scotch, smooth and mellow and better than she usually drank even though she could afford whatever she wished. She liked reserving such indulgences as a part of her job. It made slipping into her fake identity easier if it did things she didn't associate with herself.

"Are you traveling alone?"

"Yes, and you?"

"Not exactly."

The waiter returned with the target's coffee. Rachel waited until he withdrew again and the target took her first sip, setting the delicate china cup back in its saucer with a gentle clink.

"Not exactly?" Rachel asked. "You've a chaperone or a companion?"

"I've my homunculus."

Rachel allowed herself to display a brief flash of surprise. "Oh? You're an alchemist? How fascinating."

The target cocked her head to one side and studied her for a moment. "Keller Green," she said finally, reaching across the table to offer her hand.

"Abigail Millwin." She shook the target's hand, unsurprised by her firm grip.

"What business do you have in Ridgeway?"

She shrugged and took another sip of her scotch. "The business of avoiding an admirer until he finds a new, more suitable object for his affection, and the business of avoiding my parents until they accept he has found a more suitable object."

"They wish you to marry?"

Rachel fingered the rim of her glass. The ice clinked. "Since I was fourteen."

"It would be impolite to ask how long ago that was."

"Yes, but I will confess I am now closer to thirty than twenty. My parents have little hope for me, so when a gentleman does express an interest, their response is...intense."

The target studied her for a moment longer, her coffee apparently forgotten. "Why Ridgeway?"

"It is very far away." She returned the target's frank stare. "What business do you have in Ridgeway?"

"My former master is there. He requested my presence."

"I see," Rachel murmured, and she was beginning to see the big picture. According to the intelligence her handler had given her, the target had apprenticed under Master Fulstorm, and Master Fulstorm had defected to the Information Guild. So the Alchemy Guild feared another defection.

"It's more complicated than that," the target continued, looking troubled. "He's...I'm hoping to correct an error in his judgment. If I can't, I'm afraid of what will happen to him."

"Why is that?"

The target appeared to snap back to herself. "Oh, it's guild politics. I really shouldn't discuss them, but I'm so worried!"

"He must have been an excellent teacher to make you care so."

"He was." The target reached for her coffee again and gulped the rest of it down. "Excuse me. I didn't mean to burden you."

"You're no burden." Rachel stared up at her, careful to keep her expression politely blank. "I find my compartment companions too stifling. I plan to remain here until they force us back to our compartments for the landing if you wish companionship."

"Thank you," the target said stiffly. "That's very kind."

Rachel smiled at the target's back and she wove her way out of the dining area. She would come back soon enough.

* * *

The target lasted another two hours before seeking Rachel out again. This time, Rachel was nursing a bowl of golden onion soup, the broth rich and faintly spicy. "Would you like one?" Rachel asked, nodding down at her bowl.

"No, thank you. I'm not hungry."

"I see."

The target stood, wringing her hands. "Please, come back to my compartment with me. I'd...I'd like to talk, but I don't like it in here."

Well, this was certainly more than she'd hoped for. Rachel set her spoon down and pushed her soup aside. She had expected the target to return and figured she'd have to charm the alchemist into inviting her back to her compartment.

The captain's voice crackled on the speaker, announcing that they were over Delmont, the birthplace of their fine vessel. The target startled, squeezing her hands together hard enough to turn her knuckles white.

"An alchemist invented these zeppelins, correct?" Rachel asked.

"Alchemy is more than just transmutations," the target murmured. "Most alchemists these days dabble in all sorts of science." She laughed, and it was harsh and bitter. "I barely know enough alchemy to create my homunculus, but I can tell you exactly how this machine flies from the inner workings of its engines to the delicate balances of gasses in the balloons."

"This disturbs you?"

"I don't know why I trust you," the target blurted, her voice high and rapid. "But I do. Please, come back to my compartment. I can't talk here."

Yes, this was much more than she hoped for. "Let me settle my bill," Rachel said, signaling to the waiter.

The target nodded. Rachel made quick work of her bill, leaving a generous, but not too generous, tip. The waiter had been smart and unobtrusive. That deserved something, but not so much that she'd be memorable.

She followed the target back to her compartment. The glass was smoked, so once the door was shut, they had privacy. The target's homunculus sat near the window, and Rachel allowed herself to study it curiously. This one looked like nothing, but experience taught her every homunculus was strong and fast and impossible to beat in a fair fight.

The target motioned for her to sit next to the homunculus. Rachel didn't like that, but she didn't have reason to protest. The target sat across for her, no longer the nervous creature that had begged her to come to the compartment. A curl of dread unfurled in Rachel's stomach. This...well, she should have been suspicious when things went so well.

"Who hired you to kill me?" the target asked.

Rachel didn't have to fake her shock. "I beg your pardon?"

"You've been hired to kill me."

Rachel laughed, low and throaty. "Oh, my. You poor thing, jumping at shadows. Do you really think --"

"I've just learned my guild considers me a traitor. Are they your client?"

Rachel licked her lips. The target's homunculus stirred, and in an instant, it was coiled around her, wrenching her arms behind her back, curling its legs around hers, its arms around her wrists and waist and neck, and how many arms did the thing have?

"Wouldn't…" Rachel gasped at the fingers tightening on her jaw, long and impossibly thin, more like tendrils than actual fingers. "Wouldn't your guild be a single entity?"

The client blinked at her, and Rachel didn't bother hiding her fear. "Isn't it my client, you mean. That is, if I'm an assassin. I'd be flattered you think so highly of me, but I'm rather frightened now."

"You're lying."

Rachel laughed, and she didn't have to force it to sound high and thin and nervous. "I'm pretty sure I'm telling the truth about your guild being a single entity."

"Stop trying to distract me with grammar!"

"It's the only thing normal in this conversation."

The target scowled at her. "Did you know my homunculus can communicate with Master Fulstorm's? Distance makes it difficult, so it's only recently there's substance to their contact."

"I didn't know that," Rachel said calmly. "How do they do that?"

"They're made from the same base. When Master Fulstorm taught me how to fashion a homunculus, he used a part of his."

"I see." The coils around her tightened until Rachel was forced to take quick, shallow breaths. "And Master Fulstorm's homunculus has told yours that your guild has branded you a traitor?"

The target nodded.

Rachel wheezed out a laugh. "Isn't he a traitor? I seem to recall something in the papers months ago." The coils tightened even further, making her head spin. She fought to stay conscious, to keep enough breath to speak. "Has it occurred to you he may be lying?"

The coils loosened. Undignified or not, Rachel took deep breaths, relishing the sweet rush of air. She slumped forward, entirely supported by the homunculus wrapped around her.

"What do you mean?" the target asked, and the suspicious note in her voice pleased Rachel.

Rachel straightened up, her pulse pounding in her ears. "You said he requested your presence. Perhaps he wants to recruit you, and what better way than convincing you that your guild has already cast you out?"

The target narrowed her eyes. "He wouldn't...he's more noble than that."

"Noble enough to betray his guild?"

The target's expression folded in on itself. "Maybe." She glanced up at Rachel, her eyes molten. "But if he is telling the truth, you'd be the one sent to kill me. You're the only one here I'd let get close."

Rachel licked her lips. "I don't know if he's telling the truth, but I'm not --" the homunculus choked off her words.

"Did you know," the target said, leaning so close her breath fanned over Rachel's face, "my homunculus can also sense falsehood. Try telling me you're not an assassin."

The coils loosened. "I'm not --" And again, the homunculus cut her off.

The target was on her knees now and pressed too close. "And try telling me you're not here to kill me."

Rachel shook her head. She couldn't have the coils squeezing her any tighter. This was not at all how this was supposed to go, and pinned so, she couldn't reach for the blades strapped to her thighs.

"Who are you?" the target asked, reaching for the laces at Rachel's throat. The coils shifted under the target's fingers so nothing impeded her progress, yet Rachel remained bound.

The target made short work of her clothes, undressing her with deft fingers. The homunculus's coils pushed and slid along her bare skin, warm and slick like oil. Rachel struggled, tried to worm her way out of its grip, but it was too strong, and soon she was naked and weaponless, her blades on the floor beside the target's knees, her vials and needles on the seat behind the target.

"Who are you?" the target asked again, tracing the jagged scar below Rachel's breasts.

"Nobody," Rachel panted.

The target shifted her attention downward, to the scars across Rachel's stomach, to the long scar down the outside of her right leg, hip to knee. Rachel shuddered.

"You're amazing. To have lived through all these," she said, leaning down to lick the puckering scar on the inside of Rachel's thigh. That one had been especially embarrassing, a wound received under the tutelage of the previous Red Swan.

The homunculus shifted, forcing Rachel into a more accessible position. She couldn't stop her gasp, or the way she shivered under the target's tongue, too hot against her skin.

"Who sent you to kill me?" the target asked, her voice almost dreamy as she spread Rachel's thighs wider and pressed in closer, leaning in to tongue the scars over Rachel's stomach, nuzzling her way up Rachel's torso to the scar beneath her breasts. Then up to nip at Rachel's breasts, to take harden nipples between teeth and tongue. And the homunculus's coils shifted with the target's movements, cupping Rachel's breasts and presenting them, baring her neck, spreading her thighs, probing the folds of her cunt.

Rachel moaned. It was getting harder and harder to think of the target as her target, getting harder and harder to think of herself as the Red Swan. She felt more like a vessel, and those coils were seeping in to her, sliding inside her, igniting her.

"You're so strong," Keller -- the, the target -- said, her voice strumming against Rachel's sternum. "But so powerless."

Rachel mewed.

"I can kill you." She shifted, sliding a hand between them to guide a thick coil between Rachel's legs.

Rachel groaned as it entered her. Yes, Keller could kill her. A simple command, and those coils would snap tight. She arched her hips. It would certainly be more merciful than what her guild would do.

"You can join us, too." Keller's breathing was ragged, like she was as close to release as Rachel. "Maybe this is what Master Fulstorm intends, another alchemist and an assassin brought over to his cause."

Keller shifted again, pressing her palm over Rachel's mound just right. Rachel cried out, clenching around the coils inside her.

"Or maybe," Keller said, pressing harder, so Rachel cried out again. "Maybe you're right, and he's lying to tempt me to his side. But I have you," she crooned, easing up, but the coils -- oh, those coils! -- Still pulsed inside Rachel, still filled and stretched her until she couldn't think.

She could only feel.

"I have you." Keller drew back and fingered one of Rachel's blades. "And by the time we land, you'll be entirely mine."

[xyz_2002]

I was going to write more flashes in the "Stephanie's Travel Tales". Many of them would be as long as this one or longer. I wondered if this story would match the rules. The other stories might not fit the rules properly like this one.



The Game of Creating Hooker

Date: March 2008

Categories:

mc: mind control
fd: female dominant

Synopsis:

College student Jennifer was transfromed into pimpess Jen.



The Game of Creating Hooker

by xyz_2002



Jennifer took a seat on a ferry. She was traveling back to her college on the first day after a long holiday. She felt uncomforted when a tattooed and smoking slutty clothing woman took a seat beside her.

"Good morning," said the woman while she was smiling.

"Good morning," said Jennifer weakly as she shivered from seem to have an illusion of the bunny girl tattoo on the face of the woman also began smiling when the woman was smiling.

"Would you like to take one?" asked the woman as she took a cigarette from the cigarette pack in the front pocket of her top and lit it.

"No, thanks. I do not smoke," said Jennifer. She did not aware of she suddenly began concentrating on the bunny girl tattoo when she smelt the smoke. The bunny girl seem to begin dancing as well but it was hard to tell if the tattoo was really moving or changing as it was vague behind the smoke.

"That's alright. Tell me something about yourself and your school. It would be a long way before the ferry comes to the station," said the woman.

"I am just the kind of regular girl you would find a lot in any school. Most of the other girls, the teachers and the staffs in the school are also the kind that like me, having at least medium exam result, dressing and behaving properly and never smoking," said Jennifer while focused at the tattoo but ignored the rest of the woman's face. She did not aware of she was following the requirement of the woman.

"So as not to open to have sex with different people and earn money from working as part time hookers out of school time and better not to have any tattoo. In one sentence, always be a good girl isn't it," chucked the woman.

"Yes, it is," replied Jennifer and giggled silly while went on focusing on the seem to be dancing tattoo.

"What a boring life. Why don't you having some fun when you are outside school? There are many little games that take only a few minutes," suggested the woman.

"What could I play?" asked Jennifer with a stupid smile while went on focusing on the tattoo.

"Leave it to me," said the woman while having a mystery smiling.

She cupped Jennifer's breasts and it grew bigger and pressed hard against her school uniform. She went on patting her asses and they grew and became firm and heart shaped. She hugged her flank, her waist shrank very much and her dress slipped down and rested on her asses. She dragged her arms and legs gently and they became slender and much long.

She flipped her dress and pressed on her crotch and all her hair below her neck disappeared and her whole body became more sensitive especially sexually sensitive. The bunny girl seem not to be dancing but masturbating in a standing pose now and Jennifer began feeling a constant heat inside her body from rubbing against the material of her underwear and the need of masturbating.

The woman smiled again and took a handy little tattoo pen from a little pocket and began working all over her face. The tattoo pen seemed not need to be sterilized and never went out of ink so as the tattoo healed immediate when it was done and did not need any after treatment. She finished tattooing quickly and put it back into the pocket and took a brush out and quickly finished transforming her hair in a few brushing.

She put the brush back and took a cigarette and put it into her mouth and lit it for her and went on with the work while Jennifer was smoking subconsciously. She took a scissor and began cut her school uniform and the uniform shifted a bit after each cutting and finally all her outfit shifted when she put the scissor back into the little pocket and took out another new tattoo pen, a new brush, a new scissor, a mirror, so as a new pack of cigarette and a lighter and put them all into the front pocket of her new school uniform.

Jennifer felt really horny from wearing her new school uniform and went on smoking and focusing on the seem to be orgasming bunny girl. She felt amazing from the little pocket of the woman and the front pocket of her new school uniform could hold much thing and woke up when the woman put out the cigarette she was smoking all the time of the talk and the work.

She found the bunny girl was the same as the first time she saw it when there was no longer the smoke. She also noticed nobody interrupted them not because they did not notice what was happened but they felt everything would be anything normal with the woman available and would never tell anyone else. Then she noticed she was in a new outfit, felt a constant horny feeling, could not think clearly without smoking or masturbating and was still smoking subconsciously.

She tried to stop smoking but her body did not obey. "What had you done to me?" she asked.

"That is the game. It only took a few minutes. Look at yourself now. Isn't it as amazing as magic? That's why I like having the game in my spare time," said the woman and chucked again.

Jennifer looked at her watch. It was really a few minutes after she went on the ferry. Then she took the mirror out of the front pocket and looked at herself.

She was in a very skimpy slutty version of her school uniform. The top was more likely a piece of cloth wrapped around her breasts, buttoned up in the front, had a front pocket with the badge of the school logo, showed much of the upper side of her breasts and a good view of her deep cleavage and barely covered to the bottom of her breasts. The miniskirt barely long enough to hide her crotch at the front and showed much of the upper side of her asses at the back. She did not have a bra and could feel that she only had a skimpy G-string beneath her miniskirt. The rest of her uniform were a garter, a pair of knee length stocking and a pair of 4" spiked high heel.

Moreover, she had cartoon like hourglass figure, unreal long and thin arms and legs, all made her body looked more like a living Barbie doll. Her breasts jigged whenever she spoke or moved. Her wavy blonde hair was now straight and dyed black. She had permanent makeup of thick black eyeliners, dark blue smoky eye shadow, dark eyebrows and black eyelash, purple rouge and glossy fire red lipstick on her face. A chain smoking hooker tattoo on her left cheek in the form of a hooker with most of her upper body vague behind the smoke and held a cigarette in her right hand and had a few cigarette ends beside her leather shoes.

She also had a large pair of earrings, a necklace with a large pendant and many hoops on her wrists and ankles. She had many spiked studs on her ears, one on her both eyebrows, one on her nose, one on her upper and lower lip, one on her navel and she could felt there were also one on her nipples, one on her clit and many on each side of her labia. She looked like a hooker and would certainly be dropped out from her look.

"I looked like a hooker. You had ruined my life," complained Jennifer.

"Don't worry. Everybody would think that you looks and behaves as usual and normal. From now on, you would play the game yourself. You would always and free to masturbate and chain smoking at everywhere. You are the pimpess Jen and would never gradated. You would not earn money from being a hooker and only have lesbian sex with your hookers. Beside your study, you would create hookers from any woman around you, unless there is another pimpess I created shared the same group of women."

The woman had lit another cigarette. She stopped for taking another drag, and went on after blowing out the smoke.

"You would also add funny tattoo on their face from inspiration when you create them. Your school uniform would be the school uniform for your hooker schoolmates. They have no different with you except they could not create hooker and do not have the things in your front pocket. They would never graduated or retired from their recent work and free to perform the hooker's work in the school beside their study or in their working place beside their work."

"You would never run out of cigarette, tattoo ink and decorations. They would give you their hooker income and have sex with you in exchange for a constant supply of cigarette, free tattooing and more jewelries and piercing at any time so as the fee for paying whole life studying. Anyone would have to concentrate on one side from having two lives together. You and your hookers would concentrate on the hooker life in exchange of having everybody feel normal with you have two lives together," she added.

"Nobody would like to be a whole life hooker, not even me for be a whole life pimpess," argued Jen.

"Hooker life is not as worst as you think when all of you are always young. Women are irresistible to become your hookers and would improve their beautiful with your constant supply while men are irresistible to have sex with your hookers. Just begin with the girls and teachers you would like to improve their life," she answered and walked away.


Jen suddenly noticed she had accepted her new identity of pimpess and called herself Jen. She just would go on to resist when her cigarette went out. She could hardly think and began masturbating. When she could think again, she was irresistible to take another cigarette. She went on masturbating and smoking and temporary stopped for lighting another cigarette while looked at the woman spent a few minute with each woman from different school or working place among the city and turned them into pimpess.

She wondered how the world would not full of hookers transformed from elder women if the woman always created pimpess, even just one day in a year but could not asked her. The woman was right for everything she told her. Jen had already taken a dozen of cigarette and the pack never empty. She had done a new tattoo of the woman with a script of what happened today and the date on her forearm as remembrance and gave herself some finger rings from touching her fingers. She could tell her look had become sluttier, and she had become a more beautiful pimpess and began to use to be a pimpess with these changes.

END

[sara-c]

Don’t put your daughter on the stage, Mrs. Worthington

Her muscles weren’t working right, but that wasn’t going to stop her from showing them a clean pair of heels. She fought to keep her head up, while her feet pounded the packed earth, and still almost missed the stage. But luck was with her, and she tumbled into the cushioned interior scant seconds before the horses pulled away.

Patricia’s racing pulse hammered in her chest, an oddly fluttering sensation that sent her head spinning. The first stirrings of cramp were clawing at her limbs, and a breathless knot had already formed in her flank. She slumped back against the hard-wooden bench, wincing slightly as the horse’s lolloping gait found every divet and pothole.

“You okay, Sugar?” a gentle voice enquired.

She opened her eyes carefully, still fighting to breathe. But it seemed impossible to get enough air into her lungs, and that only added to the disorientation. Her vision swam, and at first the world refused to focus. Then, very slowly the swirling colours resolved themselves and, much to her embarrassment, Patricia found herself staring into the milky depths of a rather impressive cleavage.

Jerking away, she averted her eyes, already anticipating the blush that was about to add colour to her otherwise pallid cheeks. The woman’s answering laughter was entirely unexpected, and liltingly musical. It drew Patricia’s gaze back up and into the warm attention of the most startlingly green eyes.

“Yes,” she replied softly, “I think I am now.”

The woman smiled, as if the off-hand comment had been the answer she had wanted. Patricia realised she had no way of gauging her fellow passenger’s age. She certainly radiated a sense of maturity, but there was also a carefree lightness, which confounded that initial impression. Her face gave even less away. The skin was smooth and unmarked, except around her sparkling eyes, and even those lines could simply have been the cost of squinting into too many low suns.

“That’s good to hear,” the woman grinned, “I’m Denise, by the way.”

“Patricia,” she answered, automatically.

“Well, hello, Patricia,” Denise said formally and offered her hand. “I’m very please to meet you, and tell me, how far are you planning on going today?”

Blinking in confusion, Patricia became aware of the other woman’s clothing for the first time. The rich, dark fabrics stood out in stark contrast to her own flimsy smock. But Denise registered no surprise at all, as though it was the most natural thing in the world to be sharing her journey with someone so dishevelled. 

“Thank you,” Patricia said haltingly, taking the proffered hand. “Likewise I’m sure. I don’t know how much ground we’ll make today, but as far as I’m concerned the further the better. What about you, Denise?”

“Oh,” she smiled, and it wasn’t just Patricia’s imagination that lent the gesture a decidedly lascivious air. “I’m like you, Patricia. I plan to go all the way.”

Once again Patricia found herself waiting for the blush that never came. She couldn’t quite convince herself that Denise was unaware of the double entendre, although that was by far the most comfortable explanation. However, one look at the other woman’s mischievous eyes was enough to dismiss any thoughts that it might have been accidental.

“So tell me, Patricia,” Denise continued, her gaze unblinking, “what happened in Dodge? Not meaning to pry, but given how fast you were running, I’m assuming it was something pretty awful.”

The silence held for only a few tortured moments, and then Patricia began to speak. Denise’s curiosity should have been intrusive, but she needed to talk about what had happened. Besides, there was something so engaging about the apparently shameless woman that Patricia found herself almost instantly warming to her.

“Pretty awful is what I do, Denise,” Patricia explained quietly, “You see, up until about a day ago I was a Pinkerton.”

“A detective?” Denise said, wonderingly, “How exciting.”

“Something unpleasant had taken root in Dodge City, something that was kidnapping young women,” Patricia began, unsure if she was being mocked. “And, with the Santa Fe Railway pushing ever westward, something like that couldn’t be allowed to flourish. The lifeline is just too vital to risk. So whatever was happening, it needed to be stopped. And that’s where I came in.”

“Sounds like a lot of responsibility,” the other woman suggested.

The thready stutter of Patricia’s pulse had slowed to a firm and steady thud, and the pain seemed to be easing. But she still couldn’t catch her breath, and that was beginning to worry her. Still, there was nothing she could do about it for the moment, and the urge to vent her feelings was fast becoming unbearable. 

“Yes, and all sadly misplaced as it turns out,” she answered bitterly. “Anyway, the Agency had done most of the legwork before hand. All I had to do was find out precisely what was going on, and more importantly, put an end to it.”

“That doesn’t sound so easy.”

“Actually the first part was a piece of cake,” Patricia told her, “I managed that with almost no effort at all. It was the second, more important task I came close to failing completely.”

They lapsed into an uneasy silence, punctuated only by the rumbling hum of the coach’s wooden wheel. There must have been some sort of suspension, but for all the good it did them it might just as well have been stripped out. Patricia counted the seconds, knowing that she would have to continue the story eventually, but stretching it out for as long as she could manage. It was nothing more than stubbornness, but she relished even that small victory.

“I was assigned,” she continued, when the compulsion finally grew too strong, “because I fit the victim-profile so closely. All I had to do was let myself be caught, and then I’d learn first hand exactly what had happened to all those other missing girls. I’m good at that, you see. It’s one of my talents, although I’m not quite sure where I should put ‘Damsel in Distress’ on my Curriculum Vitae.”     

She’d been expecting Denise to flinch, but those beautiful eyes never even blinked. The undercurrent of innuendo remained, but it had softened some since she began to tell her tale, and for that at least, Patricia was grateful. She tried to ignore the pins and needles crawling over her palms, fighting down the urge to scratch, as she picked up the story again.

“The silly thing is,” she said, her smile entirely false, “they already knew who was behind it all. In fact she’d been under surveillance for months. But rather than share all that with me, they just sent me to the saloon where I thought I was supposed to meet my contact.”

“You were bait?” Denise said, but it wasn’t really a question.

“Oh yes,” Patricia nodded, “Perfectly packaged, thanks to the new identity with which I had been so helpfully furnished. No family, no friends, new in town. Actually I’m almost surprised they waited as long as they did.”

“What happened?” she asked, leaning closer.

Suddenly the coach seemed very small. Their proximity added a degree of intimacy to the conversation that, to her surprise, Patricia didn’t find entirely unpleasant. Her hands began to move, seemingly of their own volition, and she realised that she very much wanted to take Denise’s hands in her own.

“They drugged me,” she breathed, surprise mingling with delight as the other woman’s fingers threaded through her own. “Must’ve slipped something in my drink when I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Mmmm,” Denise encouraged and, emboldened, Patricia began to massage gently with her thumbs. 

“I woke up in something like a mad scientist’s playroom,” Patricia continued, “Strapped down to what looked suspiciously like an operating table … and as naked as the day I was born.”

“Oh!” the woman gasped softly.

“Yes,” Patricia smiled, “As you can imagine, I was terrified, at least to begin with. Struggling and screaming, at first. Then begging and pleading when that didn’t work. But there was no one to hear me, not until she finally revealed herself.”

Denise’s hands were warm and smooth; the skin was soft and it had clearly never seen even a day of hard work in all her pampered life. Hearing no objection to her first tentative touches, Patricia began to work her fingers even further up the other woman’s arms. The answering moans of breathy pleasure were all the reassurance she needed to continue.         

“Doctor Ceir was a beautiful woman, Denise,” she went on, “Utterly confident and self-assured. But quite, quite mad! They always are, of course. It’s something to do with breathing the Ghostrock fumes, apparently. I told her that, you know? When she started to explain her plans for me. That’s why she gagged me … at least I think so, but perhaps she just found the imagery particularly appealing.”

Seeing that her audience was about to interrupt, Patricia reached up, releasing Denise’s arm with obvious reluctance, and placed one finger to the woman’s open lips. Only then did the flush finally rise into her cheeks, making her skin burn deliciously in response to her presumption.

“Hush now,” she smiled, “I’m just getting to the good bit. Doctor Ceir, you see, made … well I suppose you’d call them statues, or perhaps mannequins. Apparently they are all the rage with those who have money to burn. Anyway, just like the plot of some dreadful dime novel, the Doctor was using the kidnapped girls to make her mannequins.

“And that was to be my fate as well, or so she said. To have my flesh turned into something resembling wax and become nothing more that a life-sized doll, one whose only purpose was to fulfil the sordid desires of the moneyed elite. I’d have laughed, were it not for the strangely waxy ball she had forced into my mouth. At least until she brought out one of her other experiments.”

Those deep green eyes stared unblinkingly into Patricia’s own, as Denise continued to listen with rapt attention. Holding her breath, Patricia reached very carefully around the other woman’s neck, the unspoken question so clear as it hung between them. And then, when Denise made no move to stop her, she deftly began to unbutton the back of that heavy velvet dress.

“I’ve no idea what her name was,” she admitted. “We were never formally introduced. But she was one of them, perfectly preserved in resin and yet, impossibly, still able to walk and talk. Perhaps puppet is a better description now I think about it. After all, I don’t believe she had a single thought in her head that didn’t originate from the Doctor. And that’s what was going to happen to me.

“As I’m sure you can imagine, that’s when I tried fighting and struggling again. But that only seemed to excite her all the more. Did I mention how excited the Doctor was? Well, please forgive the indelicacy, Denise, but I could smell how much she was enjoying my predicament. She practically reeked of lust, and although I’m almost embarrassed to admit it, that was starting to get to me as well.”

Still hardly daring to breathe, she eased the expensive dress down over Denise’s shoulders. The woman’s skin shone in the fading light, every blemish seeming to fade into blurred perfection. Her flesh bulged invitingly where it had escaped from the stringent whalebone corset, and those long, stockinged legs begged to be touched. Patricia swallowed hard, reminding herself of the need to go slow.

“The girl acted as her assistant,” Patricia went on, moving quietly onto the bench beside Denise, “preparing the devices that would complete my transformation to mindless servitude. There were so many needles, but then I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything else. After all, it wasn’t as if she would simply dunk me in a vat of molten wax now, was it?

“But, Denise, you can’t imagine what it was like. The gentlest of scratches and then it was as if my veins were suddenly filled with molten desire. I swear, if it hadn’t been for my predicament, well it would just have been too horribly erotic for words. As it was I could barely contain myself, and perhaps that was the real reason for the gag.”

Her fingers quickly found the first knot, and began the long, laborious process of easing Denise from the constricting garment. Those deliciously heavy breasts spilled liquidly from their prison, and Patricia wasted no time in lavishing more of her attention upon them. For her part, the other woman could only moan and lean heavily into Patricia’s embrace.

“She started with my legs, telling me exactly what she was doing, and what would happen as a result. I didn’t want to become her doll, Denise, you have to believe me. But the perverse thing is, it just felt so good it was impossible not to enjoy it at least a little. And the more of me she changed, the better it got.”

Pausing for a moment, Patricia continue to massage and stroke, filling her hands with Denise’s ripeness and letting those taut, sensitive nipples roll in increasingly exciting circles beneath her palms. Denise shivered ecstatically, and her own answering twinge started somewhere deep in Patricia’s belly, as she responded automatically to the other woman’s weak whine.

“When the first needle bit into my nipple, I thought I was going to die,” Patricia confessed. “I don’t believe that anyone is supposed to experience that much pleasure. But she wasn’t done with me, not by a long chalk. Everywhere you could possibly imagine, she inserted one of her needles. And the only thing keeping me from thrashing and spasming myself off of that table was how expertly I had been bound.”

Emphasising her point, she took one of those shiny nipples between her thumb and forefinger then began to squeeze and milk it more urgently. The rest of her hand sunk into that swollen globe, crushing the yielding flesh and grinding the tense nub with remorseless pressure. Then, very slowly, she let the wonderfully responsive breast slip from her grasp, and stooped to start rolling Denise’s flimsy stockings down her toned legs.

“I thought she’d finished with me,” she sighed, “when she slid the last needle unerringly into my clit. I was already so very wet, and that just about finished me off. I can’t really remember much of it, and I lost count of how many times I climaxed. But when I finally came down, when the flames of my passion had died to a gentle smoulder, she was still there.

“Doctor Ceir wanted to show me what had happened, while I could still appreciate it, you see? So she stopped, just before completing the process. She was so proud, so eager to have me understand. But she’d turned me into a wax doll, what exactly did she expect me to understand? I think I probably upset her then, not as much as I did later, but enough to make her angry.”

She ran her hands, lovingly, over the length of Denise’s legs, clearly enjoying the smooth contact. And whenever her fingers strayed towards the moist delta of the other woman’s sex, Denise’s moans would grow more pleading and desperate. Then, just when it seemed the older woman could take no more, tenderly, almost reverently, Patricia slid the tip of her finger down the length of that glistening seam.

“That was when she showed me the collar,” she whispered, “And explained how it could be used to control the special wax she’d discovered. There was more to it than that, but I really don’t want to bore you with the details. Suffice to say, once she clipped that thing around my throat, it was going to burn out everything of me that remained. Giving me one last, overwhelming mindfuck and leaving me as nothing but her mindless puppet.”

Patricia’s finger continued to flicker against Denise’s swollen folds, stirring the slick juices that drooled helplessly from them. Her other hand slid back to that already tender breast, cupping firmly before starting to milk it even more savagely. Denise barely trembled, but her groaning acceptance left precious little to the imagination.

“I started struggling again then, real frenzied stuff,” she continued, “and the Doctor just stood back and watched. She’d seen it all before, and knew she only had to wait until I’d exhausted myself. But as I pulled on those leather straps for all I was worth, I felt something ‘give’ in my shoulder. It wasn’t painful, I guess being made out of wax does have its advantages, but it did sort of drag me back to reality and it gave me an idea.

“I put everything I had into straining on that arm, and at first I didn’t think it was going to work. Then, quite suddenly, it just popped right out at the shoulder. Doctor Ceir stood there with her mouth hanging open as my arm continued to flop about. I could still feel it, even though it was no longer attached. But I tried to push that out of my mind, and I wasted no time at all in using the slack I’d created to get free. By the time she’d got over the shock of it all, there was just enough time for her to scream before I jabbed her with every spare syringe I could find.”

Her finger pressed more deeply, parting Denise’s dewy lips and sinking into the heated depths of her throbbing cunt. Patricia massaged the heel of her hand into Denise’s puffy mound, while her thumb sought out the other woman’s shivering clit. Their mutual heat wrapped around them, bathing each woman in each other’s arousal and urging them to simply melt.

“The nice thing about wax though,” she smiled, “is that by just heating things up a bit, you can remould and remodel it to your heart’s content. It took me a few goes to get my arm just right again, but I’m pretty pleased with the result. Of course, while I was fixing things, not to mention having to listen to the Doctor as she was changed, it did give me some time to think about this.

“You see, the way I saw it, Pinkerton already knew what they were sending me into, and if I was simply bait, shouldn’t they have pounced just as soon as the good Doctor showed her hand? I’ve seen these kinds of raids before, Denise, and one thing’s always the same. Mad scientists never surrender. So that got me wondering, what if they didn’t just want to bring her down, what if instead they wanted a sample of her ‘product’? If that were the case, then there would be no reason to break down the doors until the process was complete. Would there?”

She continued to stroke as she spoke, smearing herself over the other woman, coating and painting every inch of her. Denise’s flesh became perfectly smooth and unblemished, while those clever fingers lifted her towards what was destined to be the first of many climaxes.

“So I ran, and I’ve been running ever since, with my own backup barely one step behind. But I can’t let them catch me, Denise. I don’t want to end up in pieces on an examination table in a lab somewhere. And that means I need to find some other way to give them what they want. Luckily I kept a memento of my time with the Doctor, would you like to see?”

Patricia opened her hand, and allowed Denise’s tormented breast to drop free. Then she pulled something from beneath her smock and let it swing slowly back and forth before the other woman’s eyes. Denise gave a low moan as she tried once again to force her sealed lips to open. But the thin sheen of wax held, and her protests were lost in plaintive whimpers.

“You were pretty good,” Patricia admitted, “But your accent was just a little off and you were just trying too hard with that flirtatiousness. I’m guessing your job wasn’t to bring me in yourself, but that you’ve got people waiting for us somewhere. Well, the good news is that the Agency will get their sample, and I suspect from the look on your face you’ve already guessed what the bad news is.”

With one slippery finger, Patricia eased Denise’s chin upward. For a long moment the two women simply sat there, staring into each other’s eyes and then Patricia snapped the thin metal collar around Denise’s throat and locked it closed. Energy sparkled between them, dancing across the wax and Patricia had a split second to realise her mistake before the collar took hold of them both and dashed away their minds in a blaze of purest pleasure.

Just in the same way her arm had remained a part of her, even when detached, so too had the wax with which she had coated Denise’s body. And when the Pinkerton detective, who had been waiting for them at Salina, stepped inside the coach, he found not one, but two wax puppets, both happy to do whatever was asked of them. 

…     

[xyz_2002]

This was the second story. Maybe a worse wrote one than the first one, so as a silly one from what happened to the villains and what kind of superheroine it had.



The Police Superheroine

Date: March 2008

Categories:

mc: mind control
fd: female dominant
cb: comic book: super-hero/heroine

Synopsis:

Police officer Ms. Tone was forced to have a secret identity of a superheroine and sometimes had to let her heroine side to due with the criminals.



The Police Superheroine

by xyz_2002



It was very late at night. In the control room of the airport, police officers were discussing how to save the people when there were supervillains in the hijackers. If their request was not satisfied in the next ten minutes, the hijacker were going to kill the people, or in a worse situation, let the supervillains toyed them. They still could not made up a good plan without the help of the superheroes, everybody was tired and sleepy while it seemed no superhero, not even the weakest one, would be available in ten minutes.

"I'm sorry. Please take care of the situation while I am in the restroom," said police superintendent Ms. Tone.

"Okay. We should handle the hijackers ourselves this time. Never rely on the superheroes even we are facing supervillains," said her assistant, police inspector Ms. Jacobs.



When Ms. Tone walked into the airport restroom, there was nobody inside. She took something out of her pocket that her kind of policewoman should not have, a makeup complex. In seconds, she had worn lipstick and applied much powder on her face, and put it back into her pocket.

"It seemed I could be a professional makeup artist now," she sighed and felt sorry for cheating her coed Ms. Jacobs as the transformation started.

Green eyeliners, light blue eye shadow and pine rouge appeared on her face, her dull chin length brown hair smoothed down and became dyed blonde with a few sliver dyed coiled bangs, her tanning disappeared, her flat breasts ballooned up and her arms and legs became smooth and slender.

Then a pair of bottled glass appeared. Her uniform alternated into a pair of wrist length gloves, a white short jeans, a belt with a toy like raygun and other funny looking tools, a pair of stocking, a pair of knee length boots, a necklace with a pendant shaped as the letters "B" and "G" joined together and a pink low cut stomach revealing T-shirt with "BIMBO" "GIRL" in two rows.

The superheroine divided into two, with the main one remained to perform the superheroine duty and the divided one transformed back into police superintendent Ms. Tone. Ms. Tone went outside and went on with her work while the superheroine transformed into her stealth mode. Her body became colorless and did not reflect or refract light, her body temperature constant switching to match with the room temperature, her breath, her heartbeat and her motion became soundless.

"It sounded like I am invisible from vision or infrared camera and many other ways, but it was in fact still not difficult to notice me," thought the superheroine as she flied out of the restroom window to the hijacked plane, memory of how she was forced to be the bimbo superheroine Bimbo Girl flew across her mind.

***

One night, Ms. Tone went back to her apartment after work. She was just about to change her outfit when a shadow appeared outside the window.

"Who's there?" she asked. Then she was held like a mannequin.

The shadow went inside directly through the window and the wall. It was a beautiful woman. "Take it easy. I am just going to create another superheroine for our city," she said.

The woman brought her to sit before the mirror of her wardrobe and began working like a makeup artist. In minute, the policewoman had put on makeup and had her hair done. Then, her body shifted and the woman redressed her into her new outfit.

"Enjoy stopping the crime you could not stop with your police work from a new way." The woman giggled and disappeared.

Ms. Tone could move again. She knew she looked more likely a fancy clothing nerdy bimbo than a superheroine. She knew it was more likely a prank of the woman for choosing her and having her look in this way. She was the most boyish policewoman and the one who most against unleashed the limit of superhero in the city. She was also the most unpopular nerdy girl in her school time.

Then, the information of all her tools, her abilities and how to transform flooded her mind. The next thing was she flied to the Government Superhero Department and registered. A superhero could only get all their right and protections legally after registered at the department.

From that night, she was herself in the morning, became Bimbo Girl at night. She divided out if there was police works at night, and then after came home, she would have dream of what the superheroine did while sleeping and they merged into one again at the breakfast time. Her mind was not connected with the superheroine's telepathy but in fact always joined together directly.

She and her heroine side completed on who did much better against the crime and the heroine won in most time. In fact, she did not hate her heroine side as they were like twin sisters. She only hated how she battled against the villains. Most superhero were careless or unskillful and caused destructions or unable to stop villains caused destructions when their attack missed. Superhero was free to did almost anything and nobody would blame them and many of them had strange fetish for punishing the villains. From her other side's behavior, she suspected that it was that mystery woman who created those superheroes that had strange fetish as well.

She could accept having a look like a bimbo, to behave like a bimbo and to fight with toy like weapons and tools. She could not accept her different transformations were named as different modes because it sounded more likely a machine than a human. She could most not accept she would permanent transform the female villains into bimbos. Even that would change their will not to break the law again and then they would be allowed to have a new life while nobody would hate them from knowing who they were.

***

In the plane, there were the crew of the plane, the passengers, several armed villains, and supervillain Thunderbot, BlizzardMan, FierceCatgirl and Chief Maid.

Thunderbot was a silvery android woman created by an evil scientist from rebuilding the death body of the supervillain ThunderBird with nanites. She had a built-in power supply for functioning a hundred years in full workload, could rebuild herself from any damage, had built-in high technology weapons and the flying and electricity power of ThunderBird. After the evil scientist was killed, she had inherited the knowledge of ThunderBird and the evil scientist and employed by different villains.

BlizzardMan had the power to freeze and smash anything, to create giant weapons and to cause a blizzard in seconds. He had already destroyed many building, messed many construction and other outdoor projects and killed many police, troops and superheroes. He would destroy the airport if their request were not satisfied.

FierceCatgirl was a catgirl created when a cat became a mutant in a wrong operation in an experiment. She had super speed. Her teeth and claws could cut metals while her body was as flexible as rubber and able to go thought any little hole. She hated human very much from abandoning animals and polluting the world.

Chief Maid was a supervillain who had a fetish in maid outfit. She hardcore erased the mind and memory of all her victims and replaced them with the same duplicate of the personality and memory of a careless stupid maid, and then redressed them with maid outfits in the same dress code and abandoned them at the scene. She only attacked women and had already ruined the life of many woman politicians, successful businesswomen, woman superstars and policewomen. She tried to destroy the city, took shelter from the other criminals and would like to harm the important women among the passengers.



Suddenly, the passengers began to disappear from the one closest to the hijackers for several ones in a time.

FierceCatgirl's fur stood up and sniffed from noticing a new smell and the unusual way of air flowing around invisible barrier. "There," she pointed as she could not attack from a distant. BlizzardMan summoned an indoor blizzard, the passengers shivered from the cold but nobody was harmed. A fast moving empty spot was visible among the blizzard and then being chased by many ice cones and spreading ice along its trance.

Thunderbot shot her laser gun seconds before FierceCatgirl's warning at where she pointed from detecting a new source of brainwave. Nobody would fire guns in a plane as the bullets would bounce around inside in the plane and may shot themselves. If the plane were flying, there would also be a threat that any crack on the window or the plane would cause air leak that would blow thing out of the plane or even destroy the plane.

There was no longer the reason for keeping invisible and many Bimbo Girls in defense mode appeared among the rest of the passengers and the crew. They blocked the blizzard and stopped the spreading ice from them and teleported all of them away in the same instant. "No more innocent people under the finger of the villains," giggled the Bimbo Girls as they dashed to the villains.

Defense mode Bimbo Girl was in the form of living mannequin of Bimbo Girl with the shining of plastic all over the body and outfit. They reflected all the attacks.

Thunderbot was immediate smashed by her laser shot. She transformed into a flow of nanites, tried to wrap those Bimbo Girls who stood on her and killed them with thunder shock. This would not charge up the whole plane and shock the other villains. To her surprise, she could not climb up the body of the Bimbo Girls, her electric proof nanites unreasonable short-circuited from her own thunder shock and unable to function.

BlizzardMan was knocked away by his ice cones and fell on the spreading ice, and for the first time, being frozen in an ice pole and passed out from the cold.

FierceCatgirl roared and jumped to the closest Bimbo Girl. She scratched her throat with super speed but bounced off and fell to ground with a loud bang. Another Bimbo Girl giggled from the cartoon like scene and threw a Bimbo Catcher, an object looked like a very large hairclip with elastic bands, to the FierceCatgirl and tied her up automatically.

The armed villains tried to fight with the Bimbo Girls, their knives and fists bounced back and knocked them out. When they fell down, all their weapons smashed without any reason. The Bimbo Girls giggled and tied them with Bimbo Catchers.

"Oh, no," cried Chief Maid. She had many domestic kit shaped weapons and mind control tools in her maid outfit. All her weapons and tools smashed when she hit the closest Bimbo Girl with a bat. She was clouded in a mist of insecticide like spray and laundry powder like dust from her belonging and began tearing, coughing and felt light-headed. The mist disappeared in seconds, but she could not stand it. She had already collapsed and sat on the ground.

The defense mode Bimbo Girls merged into a usual Bimbo Girl in front of the last villain and giggled. "Forgive me," begged Chief Maid as she tried to move backward when Bimbo Girl raised her raygun. "You never gave up your plan when your victims begged you?" said Bimbo Girl in an unhappy schoolgirl voice and a bright beam shocked Chief Maid.

In a flash, Chief Maid became a young woman in a pair of glasses, beautiful makeup, a sexy blue and pink French maid uniform, real domestic kit in her outfit and held a duster in her right hand. There was also a datafile tattoo on her face, included her real name and identity, her calling as Chief Maid and a synopsis of what she had done as Chief Maid and at last her reference for Bimbo Girl's renewed villain. The tattoo did not look obscene or ugly for her.

Skill of a professional maid, an experienced babysitter and a good homemaker appeared in her mind. And then there were the memory of long-term training in the maid training school and working as a part time maid for many times. At last she had the fetish of singing while working, dancing and wearing beautiful makeup and outfits in the spare time and free to express herself with giggle and the other ways.

Chief Maid put the duster on its holder on her maid uniform and giggled from the fact that she had really become a maid herself. "It's much better and fun to be a bimbo maid than a supervillain," said Chief Maid.

"Wait a second. I had to tag you that the police would know you had renewed and allow you to go home and have a job. Would you like having a new calling?" said Bimbo Girl as she took a lipstick shaped tattoo pen from the belt.

"I like Maid Lady although it should be rare for me to fight another battle," said Maid Lady and she stood there, let Bimbo Girl tattooed her tag, the shape of "B" & "G" of her necklace's pendant, on her face and took a photo with a toy like large camera and inputted "Maid Lady" into her datafile in the PDA.

"Okay. Maid Lady. You should report to the police and they would know you had renewed. Please wait while I take care of the others and you can go with them together," said Bimbo Girl. Maid Lady held her dress and bowed to her. When Bimbo Girl walked to the other defected villains, she stood silent in the pose of a maid standby for the next task.



FierceCatgirl tried to squeeze herself out of the Bimbo Catcher and just caused herself being tied up in an unnatural pose like a ball. She was biting the bands when Bimbo Girl came. She stopped biting and purred sadly for being defected.

"You should have a better life for fulfilling your wish of protecting animals," said Bimbo Girl and shot her raygun.

The fur covered FierceCatgirl became a cute catgirl in the look of a teenage girl with cat's ears, tail, fur instead of hair on her head and a pair of cute large animation cat eyes. She was in a short fur vest, a knee length fur dress and a pair of paw shaped pumps. All these outfits were in the same colour and pattern as her fur. She also had a datafile tattoo on her face and wore a lot of ribbon, bells and other pet decorations and no makeup.

The ability of communicating with all kinds of animals and the memory of learning different animal's knowledge from reading and communicating with animals entered her mind. She had gained a fetish of wearing pet decorations. The hobby of cat of playing pet toys in the spare time also became her fetish, so as playing sport and shopping for pet toys and decorations in the spare time.

Instead of giggling, FierceCatgirl posed a cute cat pose of curling up her arms to her front with her hands at about the same height as her breasts and purring happily from free of anger and frustrated. A bimbo could express herself in any way she would like, not only giggle and an animal mind was always as emotional as a children and always liked expressing herself as direct as a children.

"I can not wait to begin looking after the abandoned pets and the wandering animals. Tag me," she said and performed her cat pose and purred again.

"Try not to hate human. You had to cooperate with human when you protect animal. By the way, would you like having a new calling?" said Bimbo Girl as she tattooed her tag on the catgirl's face.

"I looked young. Let's call me Little Kitten," said Little Kitten and performed her cat pose and purred again.

"Don't forget your identity is still an experiment animal. When you report to the police, ask them preparing the ID card for you. Then you would be our citizen and then able to have a shelter and find a job in our city," said Bimbo girl as she took the photo and inputted "Little Kitten".

"Alright," said Little Kitten and she chatted with Maid Lady about their new life. It was her first time chatting with someone on topics beside battle or avenge to human.



"Welcome to our new Android Scientist," giggled Bimbo Girl as she shot the non-functioning puddle of nanites.

An android in the look of a well-painted mannequin doll of a sexy tall woman formed immediately. It had part of the body shaped into a pair of glasses, a pink wag of a popular teenage hair style, a sexy pink sweater, a pink miniskirt, a pair of knee length stocking, a pair of sneaker and a sexy low cut laboratory coat. Her bare skin was creamy painted and had sexy makeup and the datafile tattoo painted on her face.

A vast kind of science knowledge and memory of she was being upgraded for scientist assistant's work was added. Her mind became more human like, able to understand human emotion and had a fetish of learning more emotion and expressing herself through emotion.

"I never thought an evil battle robot like me would become a bimbo android scientist. Maybe I should work as the security of the laboratory too," giggled Thunderbot.

"You are still an illegal property of a dead evil scientist in the police file. Name yourself for creating your new identity," said Bimbo Girl.

"Mmmm. I'm Stephaniebot now. Oh. How could you tag me without tattooing?" asked Stephaniebot with a curious look. Bimbo Girl inputted "Stephaniebot" and connected her PDA to Stephaniebot and updated the file for her look. Stephaniebot restarted the function for shaping her face after the PDA had disconnected. She giggled as a painted "B" & "G" tag tattoo was included and appeared on her face.

"Steph, you also have to ask the police preparing your ID card. It would help you have a shelter and apply for a job," said Bimbo Girl and took the photo.

Stephaniebot joined the chatting of Maid Lady and Little Kitten while Bimbo Girl took care of the male villains.



"Time for more fun," giggled Bimbo Girl as she took a makeup brush shaped marker and tagged on the face of the tied up villains. Then she tagged BlizzardMan by painting a large tag on the front side of the ice with a perfume bottle shaped spray can.

In many cases, all the defected villains had lost their weapons and tools and looked more likely to be victims than defected villains. It inspired Bimbo Girl with another fetish of tagging on the male villains for defining their villain identity.

Bimbo Girl moved the tagged tied up male villains beside the ice pole and waved for the renewed villains.

"Have another photo take," said Bimbo Girl as the camera flashed after the bimbos stood beside the male villains and they giggled together. Then she phoned to the police reported that the condition was under control with her toy like mobile phone.

There was still three minutes before the hijacker's time limit.

***

After the male villains were celled at the police station and the renewed bimbos reported at the police station, Maid Lady went home while Little Kitten and Stephaniebot moved to police's dorm for renewed villains without citizen identity.

There was nobody seeking help. Bimbo Girl sent her application for a new building and, in several minutes, got all the relevant permission documents and all the necessary construction material from the Housing Department.

She held all the material in a wallet like container and flied to the outskirt of the city. She transformed into the cartoon like speed mode, moved like a flash in impossible cartoon motions. Within minutes, an abandon old house was knocked down and rebuilt into a new vet clinic included government aid shelter for abandoned pets and wandering animal.

She put the documents into the shelter administrator office, phoned to the police with the office phone for a list of unemployed renewed or released villains and selected Little Kitten and a few others to work at there. When they had come, she went on patrolling around the city.

She had caught a biker who tried to rob somebody came home late, a burglar who broke into a large shop, a gang of teenagers who tried to steal from a warehouse, and a commercial spy who tried to steal from the target company she was working in that night. As usual, she tied them up, bimbosified the woman among them, tagged and sent all of them to the police station.

When she was on her way back to Ms. Tone's apartment, she knew that a few new lives were beginning in hours.

In a school, the teachers would notice a girl, who used not to pay attention on learning, was allowed to go studying in her biker version of school uniform and begin working hard. In another school, a few triad like dropped out schoolgirls were allowed to come back studying in sexy cheerleading outfit and other cartoon styled schoolgirl outfits. In a company, the employees would notice their coy co-worker had become a sexy office lady, worked in much more efficiency and became a good helper to everybody.

When Ms. Tone welcomed her at the windows, she knew that it was still a long way to improve the city that everyone would think of earning money from working instead of crime. That would mainly be Ms. Tone's work. She looked forward for the time Ms. Tone goaled in their competition from improving the city.

***

The bimbosified renewed villain women were released having new life not only on the hardcore transformation for never committing crime any more. It was also there were still nobody able to undo the transformation, mind control them for committing crime, create new supervillain from their DNA nor read the memory of their villain old self for their illegal property and technology.

Maid Lady worked as part time maid for many families and was employed as an assistant tutor in the local maid training school. Many young couples seek advice on housekeeping from her. She also had to take care of the careless stupid maids her old self created, as they had resigned from their previous job and being employed as a maid working team under her. They took part in simple tasks successfully and began recovered their self-confidence and seemed much more enjoying the maid work. They always accepted her as their chief maid and called her in that way from the hardcore transformation and did not mind that the old Chief Maid had been abandoning them without mercy.

Little Kitten worked as an assistant in the new government aid shelter for abandoned pets and wandering animal and lived there. Her knowledge and ability of communicating with different animals helped a lot. She always patrolled around the city and helped to save stuck up animals in all kinds of accidents. Many people in the neighborhood seek advice on looking after animals from her.

A technology developing company established by the human secret identity of a superhero scientist employed Stephaniebot. Superhero always worked more aggressive on their target. The company had employed many renewed or released villains and pushed hard on their targets on improving the city. Stephaniebot helped fulfilling Little Kitten's wished from developing pollution recovery technology and pushing environment protection living style.

END

[badpenny]

Clockwork Utopia: Faulty Linchpin

The meeting with the mill owners could have gone better, but it had not been a complete failure. Jin Fulstorm frowned to himself as he paid his trolley fare. The Alchemy Guild, his former guild, had made a strong case for installing their clockwork men in some of the more dangerous positions -- no need for men to endanger themselves, no need for the mill to compensate for accidents and death, and, as the technology improved and the clockwork men developed finer motor control, there would be no need for traditional work shifts. The clockwork men could work all hours with regular maintenance, and they would not require salaries.

His former guild had been careful to point out their clockwork men required a hefty initial investment, and the regular maintenance on each clockwork man would amount to half of a regular worker's salary, but in the long term, it would still be a savings. So the financial aspect of Jin's counterargument was already diffused before he set foot inside the mills.

At least the owners had listened when he displayed the schematics, pointing out the cameras and the recording strips. The clockwork men would be silent observers for the Alchemy Guild. They would see everything, hear everything, and only alchemists knew how to extract the data.

"If you think the Alchemy Guild will share that information with you simply because it was obtained in your mills, you are mistaking. The information will be theirs, and perhaps they will sell it to you if they deem it profitable," Jin had said, stepping back so the owners could take a closer look at the schematics.

The mill owners had exchanged surprised looks at that, and Jin had had to fight to keep his expression neutral. So the Alchemy Guild had not mentioned that feature of their clockwork men. Either they had not seen it as a potential selling point -- there was growing discontent among the mill workers, complaints of the high prices of mill-owned housing and goods on Boarder Row and the condition that all workers live on Boarder Row because of its proximity to the mills -- or they wished to keep it a secret for their own purposes.

Jin wondered if Miss Laurel had had better success with the mill workers. He would find out soon enough. Though they could meet in Boarder Row, they determined it would be wiser to meet back in the center of Ridgeway. Eventually, the mill owners would learn of Miss Laurel's activities. Or rather, Mister Fallon's activities, since the mill workers would be more inclined to listen to a fellow man. Still, it was wise to avoid drawing immediate attention to their connection.

He looked around the trolley. It was crowded, since it was the end of shift, and Jin was sandwiched uncomfortably between two workers, men with broad shoulders and thick hands. At least they didn't smell, so the ride --

Jin straightened up. The men didn't smell? That wasn't right. Perhaps on a trolley to the mills when the workers were fresh and heading into work, but at the end of shift? When they had been working all day hauling longs and timber, working the saws, schlepping through the sawdust? The trolley should stink of sweat and wood.

At his signal, Jin's homunculus shifted closer. It looked frail and light in comparison to the men on the trolley, but it was faster and stronger. And it was strange with its ashen skin, long arms, and tendril-like fingers. In Jin's experience, the working class had an instinctive fear of homunculi and familiars. He would use that instinct to his advantage at the first sign of a threat.

The trolley pulled into the first stop at Boarder Row. Jin rose with the first wave of passengers. The man to his right rose, too, shouldering Jin aside and lunging towards his homunculus. It reacted, shoving the man back down into his seat, and Jin saw the brief glint of a knife before his homunculus' long, thin fingers coiled around the man's wrist and closed over the weapon. It hissed, and for a moment, its fingers started to melt like candle wax, but it regained control of itself.

The man on Jin's left pulled him back down into his seat. "It's not your stop yet, Master Fulstorm. Call off your homunculus before it snaps Paulson's wrist and we won't pin it to a seat."

Jin pressed his lips into a thin line. "Let me leave, and I won't instruct it to clear a path for me."

The man shrugged. "Your choice." He brought a knife to Jin's throat, the blade cold and numbing. "Swarm it."

His homunculus didn't have a chance. Jin had to admire the choreography. The men moved fast, and in concert, so when his homunculus countered one, another was in position with a long knife dipped mercel poison. It only took a few moments to wrestle the homunculus into the seat opposite from Jin, to pin it so the poison paralyzed it.

The men turned to Jin. The one on his left moved his knife so the tip of the blade was a sharp prick between Jin's ribs. One of the men who had secured his homunculus looped a length of rope around Jin's neck, sliding the knot tight enough that the pressure was uncomfortable. He tied Jin's hands with the other end of the rope, and Jin found he had to keep his arms folded up against his chest if he didn't want the knot at his throat tightening to the point of cutting off his air.

Jin clenched his hands into fists. Beside him, Paulson cradled his broken wrist. "Bastard," he said, breathing through clenched teeth.

The trolley pulled away from the stop.

"Someone paid too much money for this," Jin said, trying to control the fear uncoiling in his stomach. He knew the Alchemy Guild had a contract out on him. He hadn't expected something so costly.

"Don't be flattered, Master Fulstorm," the man on his left said. "This is a guild inquiry."

A guild inquiry? Jin licked his lips. Guilds rarely performed inquiries, and they rarely went well for the subjects being questioned. He stared at his homunculus. It was starting to melt under the mercel poison, its face sagging, eyes white. Jin was vulnerable.

The trolley was silent except for the clatter of the wheels over the track and Paulson's hissed breathing. When the bell rang for the next stop, Jin startled.

"We'll be getting off here," the man on Jin's left said, finally removing the knife. "You'll be staying on board. Going to have a nice little chat with an inquisitor. I'd say it's been a pleasure, Master Fulstorm, but I don't have to lie for this job." He rose as the trolley rolled to a stop. "Turner, help Paulson."

The men disembarked, orderly and professional. If Jin weren't so frightened, he'd admire the military-like discipline. Which guild was performing the inquiry? Not the Alchemy Guild. Even if it didn't want him dead, his capture would have involved alchemy, not mercel poison. Certain parties in the Information Guild still didn't trust him, but he didn't think they were powerful enough to convince the rest of the guild to go along with an inquiry.

The Assassin Guild? There was the matter of Mistress Green besting the Red Swan, but that was hardly worth an inquiry. It was worth a contract on both Mistress Green and the former Red Swan and perhaps him, but not an inquiry.

Someone boarded the trolley. The clink of coins in the fare box echoed through the car, and Jin had to laugh. The guild -- which guild? -- had secured the trolley, had probably bribed the trolley company to replace the conductor with one of its own men, had definitely bribed the mill workers to either walk or take a later trolley home, yet its inquisitor was paying the fare? It was absurd!

Or was it? His association with Miss Laurel these past three months had given him a new little voice in his mind, one that sounded remarkably like her and seemed to share her paranoia. If everyone else had paid the fare, there would be no evidence anything out of the ordinary happened on the trolley. In fact, the regular conductor had probably called in sick, and this conductor was probably one of the substitutes the trolley company kept on hand. It wasn't uncommon for guilds to have people in such positions.

"Good evening, Master Fulstorm," a rich, feminine voice said. A moment later, an older woman entered his field of vision. Her black hair was streaked with gray and cut scandalously short, not boyish, but no longer than her chin. She was dressed in man's clothes, corduroy pants and a plaid vest and nothing else, so his eyes were drawn to the smooth skin of her cleavage.

He swallowed, feeling the knot hard against his throat. "Good evening. What shall I call you?" He forced himself to meet her eyes, somewhat surprised to find her face smooth and unlined except for some faint lines around her eyes.

She chuckled and slung a small bag off her shoulder. "We'll get to that soon enough." She pulled a small flask out of her bag. "Your homunculus is in my seat. You can instruct it to go willingly, or I can use the vial of concentrated mercel poison I have in my bag. Either way," she waved the flask, "it's going in here."

"Collect it, then. It won't fight you."

She flashed him a quick half-smile. "I'll pretend it's your gentlemanly nature that's making you so reasonable and not the rope at your throat."

She turned to his homunculus and plucked away the knives. It slid almost gratefully into the flask, condensing down to a swirl of black liquid, one white eye blinking. She settled down in the seat and placed the flask back in her bag. "Now then," she said, stretching out her legs and crossing them at the ankles, "you can call me Madame Swan."

The trolley pulled away from the stop. Jin started to slide along the seat and had to plant his legs firmly on the floor to keep his position. "Swan?"

"I used to be the Red Swan." She flashed him that quick half-smile again. "And now I am the Red Swan again thanks to your apprentice."

"So this is an Assassin Guild inquiry?"

"Consider it a joint venture between interested parties in a variety of guilds. And consider yourself lucky because you have a chance of living through this." Her eyes hardened. "I'd like to kill you, Master Fulstorm. Because of your mechanizations, your apprentice ruined my successor. She was a good assassin, a good Red Swan, and someone I care for a great deal."

"My mechanizations?"

"You think I don't have access to my own guild's records? You placed the contract on your apprentice. So our inquiry will start there. Why?"

He squirmed into a more comfortable position. "She accepted my invitation to Ridgeway too readily. I wasn't sure of her intentions."

"So you hired an assassin and sent her word the Alchemy Guild cast her out?"

"It gained me her support."

"You don't find your position strong enough for reason to prevail? You have to resort to manipulation?"

"Some people don't respond well to reason."

She laughed. "Oh, Master Fulstorm, surely someone you trained would respond very well to your reason."

He shrugged. "Mistress Green is a headstrong young woman. She is not quick to change her mind."

"And Miss Laurel?" she purred, straightening up and leaning forward.

"Miss Laurel is very receptive."

"How can she be anything else when you have your little fetish?" She slid her hand into his pocket and pulled out the small doll bound with one of Miss Laurel's hair ribbons. A wind-up key was secured in its back, allowing him control over Miss Laurel's body.
 
Jin didn't bother hiding his shock. How had she known about that?

She leaned back, her expression smug, and fingered the key in the doll's back. "You think you're the only person we're talking to? Miss Laurel was very cooperative. It seems she's resentful of this little doll." Her expression turned wry. "I can't imagine why."

"She's said none of this to me."

"Such selective memory, Master Fulstorm. At the first sign of independence, you stuck the key back in the doll. She's no freer than my poor Rachel."

"Such things, unfortunately, are necessary."

She tucked the doll in her bag and removed a small vial and needle. "Then you should have no trouble understanding that I must do some necessary things."

The injection burned. Jin clenched his jaw. Medicine was not his area of specialty, so he did not know what the drug was. It made his limbs heavy and his mind slow. The rhythmic clatter of the trolley on its tracks became his focus, but instead of allowing him to fight the drug, it pulled him deeper and deeper into its embrace. He arms started to tremble under the strain of holding them against his chest. He let them fall even though it pulled the rope around his neck tight.

He couldn't breathe. His vision wavered. Madame Swan rose, and her cleavage swam before him. The rattle of the trolley's wheels strummed through him. His pulse matched it, pounding in his ears until it was all he could hear, all he could feel, all he could see, pulses of red on black.

Madame Swan cut the rope. The first breath of air was ragged and sweet. His limbs were still heavy, his mind still slow, and the sound of the trolley was all consuming, but his vision started to clear. Madame Swan came back into focus.

"What...is this?" he asked, his voice thick.

"Insurance. I don't trust you to tell the truth, Master Fulstorm." She leaned down. "Insurance, and a small measure of revenge."

She had deft hands and made short work of his clothes. Then she straddled him, the corduroy of her pants both soft and rough against his thighs. The friction made him shiver, and while it didn't make him hard, it did make him aware of the potential.

"Revenge?" he managed.

"You're at my mercy, Master Fulstorm. I'll use you as I see fit, just as you use Miss Laurel." She rocked against him. "And as Mistress Green uses Rachel." Her breath hitched. "Now tell me." She tilted her head back, and her throat was pale and inviting and Jin wondered how sweet her skin was. "Tell me why you left your guild."

His mouth was dry, tongue thick. His pulse broke free from the trolley's rhythm, beat harder and faster as Madame Swan's rocking teased him hard. He couldn't force his mind down any false paths, could only force out the truth between groans. "The guild wants too much."

"Too much?" she asked, sliding a hand down between them. Her palm was cool and smooth, her grip firm and almost painful. Her nails scraped gently on the underside of his cock, and instead of hurting, it made him moan and rock his hips.

"It wants --" he gasped as she ran her thumb under the head of his cock. "It wants to take over the other guilds...make them redundant." He groaned. "And it's starting with the Information Guild."

"Tell me more," she said.

"It thinks...it won't be satisfied with just destroying the other guilds. Alchemy is the path to a better society. There's no room for -- please, I can't..." He couldn't think. It was all too much -- her rocking, the shivering scrape of her nails, the smoothness of her palm, the cloth of her pants on his thighs, her stuttering breath, the tantalizing bob of her breasts, the pale expanse of her throat, her own throaty gasps and half-lidded eyes, the clatter of the trolley, the heaviness in his limbs, his stuttering pulse.

He came, his seed spilling over his stomach and her hand.

She slid off him, kneeling on the floor between his legs. "You disagree?" She sucked her fingers clean, her expression thoughtful.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Alchemy," he shivered when she leaned in to lick his come off his stomach, "it's just science. It should serve society, not mold it."

She drew back, chuckling. "Idealism? Oh, Master Fulstorm, you don't seem the type."

"There's no progress in dogma." His pulse began to slow, began to fall back into the rhythm of the trolley. "The Alchemy Guild would sacrifice true progress for control."

"Hmmm." She rose and settled back on the seat across from him. "An interesting answer." She smoothed her hair back from her face. "Certainly not what I expected from you, Master Fulstorm." She considered him, running her hands absently over her thighs. "I suppose I can't kill you yet. A pity."

"Not for me."

She focused on him again and gave him a wry smile. "True enough." She slung her arms along the back of her seat. "We'll be getting off on the next stop, Master Fulstorm. There are others who want to hear your motivations from your mouth. They'll likely join your cause." Her smile shifted into a smirk. "If you're lucky, they'll let you continue to participate in the rebellion under careful supervision."

"Yours?"

She laughed and pulled the doll back out of her bag. "Mine and perhaps Miss Laurel's. We'll see how trustworthy she is once she's free of your influence." She fingered the key in the doll's back. "And we'll see what she wants done with you."

The trolley clattered on. Jin's chest tightened. Madame Swan had to be lying about Miss Laurel. She understood what was at stake, understood and supported his actions. If she was cooperating, it was a ruse to gain their trust so he could retain his position. Yes. That was the truth.

The bell rang. Jin closed his eyes. Miss Laurel would not -- could not -- betray him. He would endure, and she would ensure the others supported him. He would believe nothing else.

[Candesteny]

Public Transportation
By Candesteny

   Katherine hated public transportation.  In fact, she hated to be ANYWHERE in public.  God, she hated people.  All those buzzing crowds with their various conversations protruding into her mind.  Snippets of sentences that caught hold of her, buried themselves in her psyche and wreaked havoc on her life.  She didn’t need that. 
   She pulled a pair of bright blue head phones out of her backpack and turned her iPod up as loud as it would go, blocking out the chatter of the crowd.  It was hard to concentrate and a little bit painful to have such thunderous music blaring in her head, but it was far preferable to risking overhearing a snippet of “You look like you’re coming down with the flu.”  In a futile effort to “enjoy” herself, she pulled out a copy of Cosmo and began leafing through it.

   She had made it almost half way through her journey (California to Washington) and was beginning to relax when she felt a rough TAP on her shoulder.  Taking a deep breath, she glanced up…and into the last face she had ever hoped to see again.  “Kat!”  the lips mouthed, a large, lopsided grin, beneath ‘don’t ‘cha just gotta love me’ eyes. Josh!  She smiled momentarily at him as friendly as she could muster (Given that she wanted nothing better then to claw his eyes out of their sockets and perhaps feed them to something really unpleasant), then went back to her reading, staring intently at the page with fiery determination.  Maybe, like a bad dream,  if she pretended not to see him he would just disappear.
   “Hey, Kat.”  He ACTUALLY had the nerve to REACH OVER and TURN OFF her i-pod.  “Imagine running into YOU here!”
   “Yeah.”  She forced a smile.  “imagine that.”
   “How’ve you been?”
   (Fantasising about your unfortunate encounter with small pox)  “Fantastic.”  Her voice sounded strained, falsely cheery even to her.
   “Still have your little… er… problem?”  he asked, grinning winningly at her, sprawled across the chair as though he owned the train.
   “Are you crazy?  Of COURSE not.” She lied  “Do you think I’d BE here out in public if I did?” 
   Josh nodded as though he had expected as much “Well THAT’s good.  It drove you to no end of grief in high school.  Remember?”
   Kat’s smile felt frozen on her face, she spoke through gritted teeth.  “How could I forget?”
   “Alright, alright, I can tell it’s a touchy subject.  But Kat?”
   “Yeah?”
   “Sleep.”
   Kat’s breathing caught.  “What?!”  her eyes suddenly felt heavy, leaden.  She blinked hard and fought against her whole body’s natural desire to slip into unconsciousness.  “That’s NOT funny.”
   Josh’s smile turned teasingly wicked.  “What?  It’s just a joke.  You said you were over it.”
   The passing trees outside her window were beginning to bleed and run together.  Watching them was making her drowsy.  Her eyes fell shut of their own accord and with a tremendous effort she forced them open and looked steadily at Josh.  “I am.”  She said, and she tried very hard to believe it. 
   “So what’s the problem?”  his voice sounded so far away. 
   “There isn’t….a…pr..problm.”  Her words were slurring together, barely above a whisper.  “Problem.”  She repeated more clearly, but her eyes had fallen shut again and this time she could not open them for all the world.  “…don’t...”  she whispered, desperate and helpless…. But she was out.
      

   Katherine’s eyes fluttered open with a start.  Had she dozed off?  Had she been TOLD to?  Her iPod (now blaring “Thanks for the Memories” into her ears) told her that she couldn’t have been influenced by a passing conversation…. But how could she have fallen asleep through all the racket?  She sat up more fully and rubbed her eyes.   A glance at her wristwatch told her she was only about an hour away form Port Angeles, and the screaming in her ears was giving her a headache.  What could happen in an hour?  She clicked off the pocket device and instantly felt relief….
   …And…
   A sweet, dull ache that had entirely nothing to do with passing pine trees, deafeningly music, or a half finished quiz on “finding your winter style”.  She fidgeted a little in her seat, the gentle rubbing of her jeans intensifying the sensation to a slightly burning, pulsing need that crept it’s slow way up into her stomach.  She shook her head and re-opened her magazine.
    “On a chilly winter morning-“  (“Chilly”  she shivered and her skin prickled bursting into light goose bumps) “-what do you grab from your closet?   A)-“ 
   she squirmed a little more, the train seemed suddenly to be going ridiculously slow.  Somewhere inside of her a hollow was beginning to form, an empty hole that was softly crying, whimpering with a quiet, desperate, unfulfilled need.
   “-That cute, brown—“  (“Cute, brown”  Josh. Brown eyes, warm, inviting.  Why was she thinking of him!?)  Something seemed to turn over inside of her, like a quiet click, and her heart and abdomen were suddenly filled with the wings of a thousand fluttering butterflies. 
   “-turtleneck.  B) Your sporty worn denim Jacket—“
    the words seemed to run together.  Hot, like tiny rivers of fire, burning desire into her fingertips, igniting her blood. 
   “C)—“  she couldn’t think. 
   “C)—“  The warmth between her legs was spreading downward, making her feel weak in the knees.  She couldn’t stand.  And the fire in her blood prevented her from sitting still.
   “C)—“
   She shook her head—HARD, blinking furiously.  Her hair tossed across her checks and caressed the back of her neck, teasing, tickling, sending tiny shivers of sheer sensation rippling down her skin.  Bringing need and desire bubbling to the surface with a fiercely burning intensity.
   “C)—“  She swallowed, her stomach dropped through the floor, and the throbbing between her legs was growing more urgent.  A pulsing need that made her whole body quiver. 
   She turned her attention to the magazine and forced herself to read it.  Blocking out all sensation as best she could.  Concentrating her every ounce of will on the simple, indecipherable black lines.
   “C)—Your… your favourite (Josh)… favourite old (old boyfriend)… old worn out (worn out from fighting her needs, fighting her desires.)  Your favourite old worn out fade…faded blue---“
   “Is this seat taken?”
   And there he was.  Her entire soul arched toward him.  Tiny tingling threads of need and exhilaration throbbed and pulsed painfully through her secret garden, as her hands twitched involuntarily, aching to touch his soft, chocolate brown hair. And then like a wave breaking on the shore it hit her.  The music!  Asleep!  Josh!
   “G-go away.”  She managed, though her entire heart and mind screamed at her.  Her traitorous heart.  She was trembling.
   He reached a hand ever so gently toward her, and brushed the back of his knuckles against her cheek.  She felt weak and dizzy, her body and mind involuntarily giving into him, leaning into his touch, NEEDING it like plants need sunlight.  When he pulled away the absence of it hurt, and against her will tears were forming in the pockets of her eyes. 
   “Please!”  she begged, turning her face towards his, wanting, needing. Yearning naked upon her face.  “please.”
   “Please what?”
   With a tremendous effort of will she said, “Please. Go. A-Away.” 
   But her traitorous body was leaning in toward his, her lips were reaching, hungry for his caress, and her whole essence was on fire, burning with only one purpose, only one need in all the world.
   He touched her again, this time on the buds of her taut little breasts.  A moan escaped her, and against her will her hands were in his hair, pulling him toward her.  Kissing him so deeply that lust and love, desire and devotion exploded within her in equal measure. 
   “Don’t make me so this.”  She begged.  But she couldn’t quell her desire.
   “You WANT to do this.”  He answered, and suddenly it was true.  It was the whole of her being.  It wormed it’s way into her heart and mind and she was nothing more then living desire.
   “Don’t… Don’t make me… d-don’t let me….” But she was spent, like when her eyes had fallen shut while trying to watch the trees outside her window - she was past the point of no return “…Don’t let me stop.”  She whispered. 
   And he smiled his crooked, cocky grin.  “Don’t worry.  I won’t.”

[Wiseguy]

Good Vibrations
© Copyright 2008 by Wiseguy




“If that kid doesn't shut up soon I'm going to go insane!”

I wanted to laugh, but I knew if I did Margot's wrath would focus instantly on me.  Besides, it was really only funny because I'd been thinking almost the same thing myself.  Sitting on the tarmac for a full hour before actually taking off had stretched what was supposed to be a 2-hour flight to the point where the baby in 18C was far from the only one feeling cranky.  Fortunately, I had an idea.

The flight attendant's smile looked forced when she came to answer the call button.  Delays cause grumpy passengers, after all.  “What can I get for you?”

I heard Margot mumble something about ear plugs, but I don't think it carried any further than me.  “I was wondering, do you have an idea how much longer we'll be in the air?”

“We're being held back because of a weather delay,” she explained in a tone that almost disguised the weariness she had to be feeling.  “The best estimate we have right now is about 45 minutes more.”

“Thank you, Vicky.  This has to be tough on you, too.  I wonder, do you have a blanket and maybe a pillow we could use?”

It's amazing what reading a name tag can do.  Vicky's professional smile brightened with new sincerity.  “I'm sure I can find those for you.  I'll be right back.”  And she was as good as her word, appearing within a minute with two miniature pillows and a blue flannel blanket.  “Here you go, sir.  Is there anything else you need?”

“This is fine, Vicky.  Thank you so much.”

“You're welcome.”  Vicky left us to answer another call button with an extra little bit of energy in her stride. 

Margot snorted.  “Do you think if you suck up enough she'll give us a pair of parachutes and open the door?”

“That wasn't sucking up,” I objected, “that was showing sincere appreciation.  And I have a better idea for soothing your jangly nerves, my love.”

I reached around Margot and pulled her gently over against me, inserting a pillow between her head and my shoulder for comfort.  Then I tucked the other pillow behind my head and opened the blanket to cover us both.  Margot peeked up at me with an amused look.  “Are we joining the Mile High Club?”

“Shhhhh!” I said into her ear.  “No talking.  I want you to just sit quietly, listen to my voice, and follow my instructions.  Do that, and I'll help you relax and the baby won't bother you any more.  Deal?”

There was no doubt about the answer because Margot loves being hypnotized.  “Deal.”

I felt her wiggle in the seat to get more comfortable.  “Good girl, Margot,” I said.  “Now, pay very close attention to my voice.  Focus on it.  Really hear every syllable, every word, every sentence I say.  The more you can concentrate on just my voice, just my words, the more you can allow yourself to let go of everything else.

“A minute ago you were focused on the sound of the baby crying a few rows back.  That's fine, my dear, but now I'd like to draw your attention to all the other sounds in the environment around us.  An airplane in flight makes so many sounds, doesn't it?  There's the pervasive sound of the plane itself slicing through the wind ... that constant whooshing sound, always in the background, so that you hardly notice it after a while, but you can hear it now.  And then there's the engines, those big jet engines and their steady hum.  Such a loud sound, really, and yet we so quickly learn to ignore it.

“And then there are the more subtle sounds inside the cabin with us.  Perhaps right now you can hear storage cabinets opening and closing as the flight crew stow and retrieve gear.  Little snaps and pops of tiny door latches.  Then a louder, deeper sound of the lavatory door opening and closing as people come in and out of the bathroom.  Softer still, the rustling of newspapers and magazines as people leaf through them, reading and turning pages.  And as you let your focus move from one sound to the next, and the next, Margot, you can also notice how each time you shift your focus your mind can relax a little bit more.  Each sound – each pop, each rustle, each footstep, and yes, even the sound of the crying baby behind us – can help to guide your mind even deeper into a relaxed, open, pleasant state.”

Margot's head sunk a little deeper into the pillow and I felt her breathing slow.  She's so good at going into trance that even airplane noises could be used for an induction. 

“Sound,” I continued, “is really nothing more than vibrations in the air.  The skin of the plane vibrates as it moves through the air, and that vibration reaches your ears to give you the sound of the wind whooshing by.  The tiny pops and snaps inside the cabin are from the hardware opening and closing, each time sending a vibration through the air to your ears.  The baby's cry bounces through the cabin, off the walls and ceiling, and gets picked up by everyone in the area.

“But your ears, Margot, are not the only place in your body that responds to vibration.  Even now, as your mind sinks deeper into a lovely trance, your body can also sense those vibrations and follow your mind into relaxation.  Every sound relaxes your muscles, as if they were being massaged by tiny little fingers.  Let it happen now, Margot, so that your body can relax so deeply that it's simply too much effort to move.”

With my free hand I picked up Margot's arm at the wrist.  It was as limp and heavy as a wet dish rag – perfect.  “That's my girl.  Body so relaxed now, relaxing deeper with each breath.  Mind open and blank, allowing my words to reach that place inside you where my every suggestion becomes your reality.”

I drew in a deep breath of her scent as my head lowered to meet hers.  The third seat in our row was empty, but there were still plenty of other ears around and I didn't need them hearing any more than was necessary if the baby did finally quiet down.

“All those sounds, Margot,” I continued.  “All that vibration.  And you know, my darling, that there are some places in your body where vibrations feel especially good.  Where you love to feel vibration.  Where the slightest touch can send pleasure cascading through your body.  And as you sit quietly, so relaxed and so open, you can allow all of the sounds of the plane and the environment, all of those  vibrations in the air, to reach into in all of those warm, delicious places in your body right now.”

Margot squirmed again, but this time in a more sensual way.  “What are you doing?”

“I'm relaxing you,” I answered, keeping my voice smooth.  “The more you feel the vibrations, the more your mind can relax and the more pleasure you can experience now.  Notice how each sound lovingly surrounds and caresses the most sensitive, erotic places in your body right now.  It feels so good, doesn't it, Margot, to let each sound be a light, teasing little touch against your skin ... against your nipples ... against your clit.  How does it make you feel, darling?”

The squirming got more pronounced.  “Horny,” she breathed.  “So horny.”

“That's right, horny.  You feel so horny now, don't you?  So aroused, so horny.  And you know that when your body is touched again and again in the same place, that sensation of touch just grows stronger and stronger, doesn't it?  Like light strokes of a cane concentrated against one particular spot on your bottom.  It starts out feeling like just a gentle smack, but then each tiny impact builds on the one before until every nerve ending in that one spot sings out.  And just that same way, my dear, you can begin now to notice how the more these sounds vibrate against your nipples, against your clit, against your skin, the more sensitive your entire body becomes to their touch and the more aroused your body becomes.  So aroused now, Margot, so horny.  Getting hornier and more aroused with each breath, with each second of time that passes, while those vibrations keep thrumming against your body in every delightful place.

A soft moan told me that Margot was feeling the effects quite nicely.  “Stop, Todd,” she groaned. “Somebody might notice.”

We have a safe word for our play.  Margot was conditioned to say it automatically if she really had a problem with anything we do.  That she wasn't saying it then told me exactly how I could respond.  “I know,” I said, grinning.  “Somebody might notice how incredibly horny and aroused you are right now.    At any moment, someone might see the movement of your arms under the blanket as you become so aroused, so horny, that you can't resist adding your own touch to the vibrations you feel from the sounds around you.  But I know you, Margot.  The thought that someone might see, someone might realize that you're helplessly masturbating under that blanket, makes you ten times more aroused now, ten times more horny.  The more you think about someone walking by and seeing you like this, the more you secretly wish it would happen and the more helplessly aroused you become.  Isn't that right, Margot?”

The only answer I got was a long, low groan of pleasure.  I felt Margo move under the blanket just as I'd suggested.  One hand bunched up her skirt to reach beneath it while the other undid a blouse button and slipped inside.  Her head wagged from side to side a little, so I cradled it and spoke again.

“It's okay to feel this pleasure, Margot.  I give you permission to enjoy this.  Just relax and let the sensations flow freely across your body.  There's nothing you need to think about, nothing you need to say or do, but enjoy the pleasure that you're feeling right now.  Let it build and grow and take you now to a wonderful place where you can really let go to the pleasure now.”

“Do you need ...?”  I started a bit at the sudden arrival of Vicky the flight attendant.  By the time I looked around her eye was drawn to Margot writhing under the blanket.  It had to be obvious from Margot's face what she was doing and for just a moment I felt a twinge of guilt.  Vicky blushed, suddenly and brightly.  “I, umm, guess you've got all you need.”

“We're fine, thanks.” 

Good karma is never wasted, I thought as Vicky hastily retreated to the security of the flight attendant's work area.  If I had been grumpy and demanding with her before, like every other passenger on this plane, she probably would've put a stop to my little game with Margot.  Or maybe she was getting a tiny voyeuristic thrill from it. 

Margot, on the other hand, was getting a thrill that was far from tiny.  “Good girl,” I told her.  “Feeling to good now, so aroused, so horny, that in just a few seconds I know you're going to have an orgasm that spans every single part of your body.  You so desperately want to come for me that nothing else matters to you any more.  Nothing else is important, nothing else can even get your attention, because your mind is entirely absorbed and focused on the orgasm that you're going to have for me right now.”

I punctuated the 'now' by pressing lightly on her forehead and you'd think I'd pressed a switch.  Margot's head turned and her face pressed hard into the pillow to muffle the sounds.  Her body clenched and jerked with each labored breath as she gasped and grunted into the pillow.  God, she looked beautiful!

“That's right, come for me now, and let the sounds of your own pleasure join all those other sounds and make you come even harder right now.  Coming for me now, completely letting go to the pleasure now, and coming until you're completely satisfied.  Only when you're fully and completely satisfied, Margot, does this orgasm end.”

It took about three minutes on my watch before Margot's movements slowed and her body relaxed again.  Her timing was just about perfect, too, because as she came to rest against me the captain announced that we had been cleared for landing and would be on the ground in just a few minutes.

Margot grabbed my crotch and gave me a firm squeeze.  “I'm so going to get you,” she promised.

Sure enough, a few minutes later we were on the ground and filing past Vicky on our way to the gate.  “Thank you for flying with us,” she said, giving me a bigger smile than she had the people before us.  “Please come again.”

“I will,” Margot promised. 

We both got a kick out of watching Vicky blush again in response.



-wg
3/24/08

[xyz_2002]

This was the third story. I did not think taxi would fix the limit in the type of public transport for the contest, but I still like to send it.

The story had become as worst written as it was from lacking of knowledge of the name of many common term, thing and occupation.



The Taxi Woman

Date: March 2008

Categories:

mc: mind control
md: male dominant

Synopsis:

Mr Vex worked out his fetish of merging a taxi with its driver into a living taxi with a woman driver who was in fact a part of the taxi and unable to left the taxi.



The Taxi Woman

by xyz_2002



Mr Vex walked out of the airport to the taxi stop. It was the time someone who just got out of the taxi at the end of the waiting taxis. He decided to take that taxi, but first of all, a few improvements should be done to the taxi.

He snapped his finger and everything freeze. He walked to the end of the waiting taxi and moved the driver out. With another snap, the taxi driver's outfit disappeared, subtle changes happened on him until he became his female version or who more likely to be his twin sister. Then her body was covered by many graffiti tattoo and a set of male outfit was worn on her, a cap, a set of pantsuit and a pair of sport shoes.

Mr Vex covered the whole inside and outside of the taxi with the same graffiti as the driver, just left out the windscreen and the other windows and the light. He moved the woman driver back to the driver seat, with another snap, the back and the thighs of the woman driver merged with the taxi, transformed the taxi into a living one, with new buttons on the panel.


More than a half of the waiting taxis in the queue were the same kind of graffiti covered taxi women. Mr Vex created them in his previous taxi traveling.

Mr Vex walked back to the pavement and restarted time. He entered the alternated taxi and it left the queue with nobody felt wrong.

"Where would you like to go?" asked the woman driver who had become the taxi herself and being renamed as Susie.

"Let's have a view around the city," said Mr Vex as he handed her enough money for traveling for an hour.



Mr Vex had a fetish of having woman driver for any kinds of transport he took while taxi was an exception. Taxi was his most famous kind of transport. He alternated the taxis into taxi women with other extra functions for having much more benefits on the taxi travel.

His alternation to the drivers had changed many married couples into lesbian marriage and their children became their stepchildren, while the taxi driver's lesbian marriage never has sex even at the driver seat. He never cared of the others, as nobody would feel unusual, went on toying the city like his reality version of SimCity, causing long term alternations to the city and some foreign cities he always traveled to.



The taxi went on running without created any exhausting gases. As it had become alive, it no long really needed petrol and never created exhausting gases anymore, so as Susie no long really needed eating or drinking and never needed pissing or shitting anymore.

No sooner, the taxi came to a petrol station and Susie pulled up there for filling petrol from her habit. She had a new experience of pleasure and moaned while the worker filled the petrol and orgasmed when the petrol-filling cover was closed. In seconds, her trousers had dried with no trance of she had been having an orgasm.

Then, Susie would like to buy some snack, but it was just a small petrol station without fast-food stall and there were no restaurant around. She felt a bit annoyed and pressed one of the new buttons for improving the situation. These set of buttons were used for tagging different kinds of "Service Provider Tag".

A hidden cover on the side of the taxi opened and a metal hand with a spray can came out. It covered most of the petrol station's sign in a background colour. Then it painted a fanart like cartoon of a woman in a strange taxi like armor suit in the center of the patch of background colour. After that, it hidden back inside the taxi and the cover closed seamless.

The petrol station shifted a bit. There was a fast-food stall included. Women petrol filling workers who had a face painting of the service provider tag replaced the post of the male one. The station sign remained unchanged in the graffiti covered formed.

The taxi moved a bit forward beside the stall and sounded the horn. A waitress with the service provider face painting came out.

"Would you like a hamburger meal?" asked the waitress.

"A hamburger and a soft drink please," said Susie.

"Would you like something too?" the waitress turned to Mr Vex.

"The same as hers please," said Mr Vex.

"The total amount is twelve dollars and eighty cents. Would you like to pay together?" asked the waitress.

Mr Vex paid for both of them. The waitress went inside the stall and came back in two minutes with the food and the changes and received all the changes as her tips. Mr Vex and Susie ate slowly and chatted all the way. When they had eaten the meal, Susie pressed another new button and a metal hand collected all the empty packing and threw them into the trash bin outside the stall. The taxi went on with the touring.



A few hours later, the taxi had gone around the city for one time and stopped at all the petrol stations and a few restaurants on the way. The other taxi women had already tagged these petrol stations and restaurants. Susie and Mr Vex ate there and felt satisfied with their services. Mr Vex did not forget to paid more money on every hour and some tips for Susie.

Under Mr Vex requirement, the taxi went around the city again in a new routine. He liked having a tour around the city every time he came back from a business trip. Besides some of the good restaurants and stalls that were the common favorite ones among the taxi drivers, he could always find new one almost from each new taxi woman's own favorite and came to the new tagged one he had not visited. The new place would soon join the taxi women's common favorite place for eating after tagging.

A few minutes later, they came to a small Chinese restaurant in the suburban area. It was the original male driver's own favorite place for his lunch in the past. He would park at somewhere nearby and go inside. But Susie was a taxi woman now. Longed for her favorite lunch, she pressed the "Service provider Tag" button with not a moment's hesitation. A large part of the restaurant sign was tagged and the restaurant seemed remain unchanged. She sounded the horn and a face painted waitress came out.

"What would you like for your lunch?" asked the waitress.

"The beef and fried rice meal with tea please," answered Susie.

"Would you like something for your lunch, sir?" asked the waitress to Mr Vex.

"The same as hers please," replied Mr Vex.

"Twelve dollars for each lunch," said the waitress.

Mr Vex paid for both of their lunches. The waitress went inside and brought them their packed lunches and the changes in three minutes. She refused the tips. Mr Vex snapped his finger and raised her to the head of the waitress with higher income and double bonus. He gave the tips to Susie and had a happy lunch together.



Next time, the taxi stopped at a tagged large hotel. Beside the hotel rooms, there was a shopping mall, many restaurants, a gym and a swimming pool in the hotel.

The hotel had a large logo on the top floor and the letters of the name in a column on the side of the front wall. The logo and the letters of the name were made of lighting. The colour of the lights was not visible anymore as they and most of the windows on the front wall were covered by the background colour of the full walled tag.

A face painted hotel maid came to them when the taxi stopped.

"May I help you?" asked the hotel maid to Susie.

"I would like the famous French food from the French restaurant on the tenth floor," answered Susie.

"May I helped you, sir?" asked the hotel maid to Mr Vex.

"I would like some fast-food, please select for me," answered Mr Vex. He has had French food before and would like something different.

The hotel maid bowed and went inside. Mr Vex chatted with Susie about this hotel and where she would also like to have meal and had not been to.

As he thought, this hotel was tagged by another taxi woman as she used could not afford eating here when she was a human and longed for eating inside. Beside the taxi driver's welcomed places for eating, the taxi women had also tagged many expensive restaurants and hotels and anywhere they longed for eating inside. After tagging, these places had lowed their meal's selling price, provided better food and opened to the low income people and even earned more.

The hotel maid came in ten minutes with their bills and a box of French meal and a box of Japanese food.

"Please accept the changes as your tips," said Mr Vex as he paid for both of them.

"You are welcomed. Please come again," said the hotel maid. She bowed again, went inside and paid the bill for them. She came back to her post in about one minute when Mr Vex was sharing his food with Susie.



The taxi stopped again when they caught in a traffic jam in the peak hour. After touring around the city for a few times, Mr Vex decided to go back to his company for bringing back the document of his business trip. He could go on tomorrow but the soon the better. Susie pouted when she found there were a few corrupted police at the roadside that ignored the traffic jam and did their own business.

One of the policemen was annoyed by the enquiry from one of the driver and began giving penalty bills to random innocent drivers for easing his anger. When this policeman was going to give a penalty bill to Susie's Taxi, she pressed many of the new buttons and many metal hands with markers or spray cans came out and marked the police and their cars.

All these corrupted police were marked with a large red cross across their face while many the service provider tags covered all the police logo on their police cars and motorbikes. Then these police shifted into living cartoon characters, the fanart of policewoman in fancy policewoman uniform with a large red cross across their face and a stupid smiling. Their police cars and motorbikes shifted into funny looking cartoon police cars and motorbikes from children cartoon and had the service provider tag instead of the police logo.

The cartoon policewoman who used to be the angry policeman walked around and cancelled the penalty bills and excused to the drivers while the other disturbing snacks and soft drink to all the drivers caught in the traffic jam. After that, they went back to their cars. The cartoon police cars and motorbikes twisted and twitched, flattened and restored the shape all the way through the traffic jam like the scene in the children cartoon. They went through impossible shortcuts for real cars and passed the traffic jam in seconds. With their cartoon abilities, the traffic jam was cleared in minutes and the coming cars from all the roads caught by this traffic jam began to go through in a more efficient order.



The taxi arrived at the parking lot outside the building of Mr Vex company. Mr Vex asked Susie to wait for him. He went inside and came back in a few minutes just for handing the documents to his secretary and making a few decisions for the waiting business campaigns.


He established the company from one of his childhood wish and now was the CEO. He did not need to travel to the other city for a business trip himself at all, as he had many good employees in different related departments and the most important talk that he would talk himself could be done by phone and fax or email.

It was a bit tricky as the business would go on the way he would like and helped the company to become one of the largest one in the city.


He asked Susie to drive him back to the airport and gave her much more tips this time. He went to the airport not only going to travel for another business trip. He lived like a wandering people, never went home or slept in a hotel or inn. He stayed at the airport every night, served by the airport staffs, had a bath in the airport staff's changing room and had his breakfast when he arrived at the foreign city.



In the meantime, Susie drove a few more trips for different passengers and went home after work.

Her wife and stepchildren welcomed her at home. They chatted while having some snack in the garage and then cleaned the taxi together. After that, her wife washed the seat and the inside of the taxi alone with her, so as washed her with her outfit on without felt unusual. She kissed her wife and gave her today's income before her wife slept at the back seat. The relation between her and her family was more like a family with their car.



Besides the changes to the driver's families, the passengers were changed as well. Everybody accepted the taxi women's stopping whenever they met a petrol station or a place for eating and never minded it would take more time. They began eating more themselves subconsciously from viewing the habit of taxi women.

Taxi became more welcomed, more people joined the occupation of taxi driver and more people took the public transport instead of driving. More petrol stations were built for the convenient of the public transport.

The restaurant industry and the hotel industry became more welcomed as well. New restaurants with different country food and new hotel with complete facilities were built. More corrupted police, rude driver and other non-welcomed people were alternated into polite woman cartoon characters and helped improving the image of the city.

Eventually, a life style of slow pace formed and the overall changes had the city became a famous place for touring as well.

END

[xyz_2002]

This was the fourth story. It was written too long for including more discussions for the bus built-in auto bimbo creating function.



Transformation in a Bus

Date: March 2008

Categories:

mc: mind control
fd: female dominant

Synopsis:

A schoolgirl received an ability of reality alternation and tested it in a bus.



Transformation in a Bus

by xyz_2002



Teddie listened to the music when she was going to the college on a bus. Suddenly, a girl who looked exactly the same as her in a different outfit appeared in front of her. She was about to ask the girl from being surprised by found her body went on with listening without the surprised look. Everybody in the bus went on with his or her business as if only she could see the girl.

"I am sorry for surprising you. I have to take over your body for a while that you would not alarm the other passengers from your surprised look. I am another version of you from a parallel dimension. I am a reality alternator and a dimension traveler." the girl's voice appeared in her mind.

"Why do you visit me?" asked Teddie in her mind.

"I travel around different dimensions and visit the version of myself for learning their skill and knowledge and the language of their world and that would be much more convenient for me touring in their world. In return, I would teach them the abilities and knowledge and the language of myself and all the different versions of myself I had visited.

"With my reality alternating ability, learning and teaching was very easy. Touring is my most interested activity and I learn more about different way of culture developing from traveling," answered the girl.

Then different abilities and memory flooded into Teddie's mind. There were many of them who were already adult women with abilities that only existed in novel and there were many of them who were normal women like her. A few of them were old women and young girls. Many of them had already had some kind of occupation and only a few of them were still students like her. At last, there were the reality alternating ability and the dimension traveling ability, the language and knowledge of the world the girl came from and, to her surprise, an urge of changing anybody from inspiration.

"I am sorry. I had been a good girl like you. I am unable to tell you I had been programmed by one of myself to alternate the other versions of myself into evil reality alternators and would not tell them before I had alternated them. Many of myself with telepathy or other mind reading powers had noticed at the first instant but still could not escape from the fate. There was still nobody could save me, so as the evil reality alternators I created.

There is good news that this is your world, I would not alternating anyone or anything else on my touring in this world. Everything would be yours, I will come back to see what you had done before traveling to the next dimension," explained the girl in a sorry look before she disappeared.

Teddie could control her body again. She could tell she was programmed not to free the girl in any direct or indirect possible way she knew. She could not control the urge to alternate the others as well. She sighed and began testing all her new powers.



Next to her was a young woman who was looking outside the window at the view of the roadside and paid no attention to Teddie. She was in a revealing outfit had a small tattoo on her arm.

Teddie pointed at her tattoo and moved her finger. The tattoo moved like an animation, disappeared behind the woman's outfit and relocated at the woman's breast. She moved her finger again. She could see the trance of the moving tattoo in this time and relocated it on the face of the woman. She reached into the woman's memory and was surprised to find out her memory of tattooing had alternated to match with the new position of the tattoo. She searched through the memory of the woman's photo and noticed it seemed the whole world shifted to match with any changed she had done. What an incredible power it was.

She blinked at the woman. The woman's face was covered with prank painting and tattoo of prank painting and writing appeared on her breasts, arms and some spots covered by her outfits. The woman had gained a fetish of wearing prank painting or writing on herself and would not mind how the other thinking of her fetish. Her reality was shifted that she would not be fired or punished by anybody from her fetish.

"It should be enough for her," Teddie thought as she walked inside the bus for her next victim. She began used to her new role.



Teddie heard the noise of cat purring. An old woman was traveling with her cat. The cat was in a portable cage. It had a hostile look and all the fur stood up when Teddie came near. The old woman tried to calm it. Teddie smiled at the busy old woman.

The old woman shifted into a young woman in a pet shop staff's working outfit. She also wore a headband with cat ears and there was a long cat tail on the back of the outfit. The large logo of a catgirl clothing woman on the front of outfit told the other that she was the owner of the new pet shop Teddie had just created and the outfit was the pet shop's uniform.

The cage disappeared. The cat shifted into a catgirl in the same uniform who also wore a pet collar. She was the young woman's pet catgirl and shop assistant now. The catgirl rested in a cat pose on the lap of her owner and purred when her owner caressed her. She never felt disgruntled to Teddie any more. "The cat's will is just a piece of cake," she smiled as thought of successful in changing the mind of the cat.



Then she caught a strange idea. She tapped the handrail and the bus shifted. It ran on autopilot. Cuffs and metal arms appeared at the driver seat and all the seats and standing positions. They cuffed the woman driver and all the female passengers but ignored Teddie while the ones for Teddie's position and male passenger and the empty position retreated and disappeared inside seamless hidden covers. They began alternating the women into bimbos. Everybody chatted as usual while waited for the bimbosification completed.

Looked at the happy giggling and the beautiful look of the bimbosifying women, Teddie thought it would not be bad for becoming bimbo like and she could undo the change she disliked. She waved her finger, let the cuffs and metal arms for her position appeared again and backfired on herself, gave her the same bimbosification as the other females on the bus.

A pair of electrodes held on her temples and it began reading her most favorite hobby and most interested activity and alternated them into a strange fetish. Unlike the other women, she could remember what was her used to most favorite hobby and most interested activity and could tell if she would like the new strange fetish. She did not like the new fetish and changed it back after the electrodes had retreated from completed their work.

Then, a needle jabbed into her neck. Nanites flew inside and rebuilt her body, gave her smooth skin, Barbie like long arms and legs, hourglass figure and jiggled breasts. The needle retreated after all the nanites went back into it.

A pair of metal arms with sewing needle remade her school uniform to match her new figure and bimbo's image. A low cut navel-revealing shirt with short sleeves, so as the collar and a pair of sleeves-end became independent piece wore on her neck and her wrists. A skirt covered to three inches about her knee. At last, there were sexy panties, a pair of knee length stocking and a pair of boots. "It looked more likely the fanart of animation school uniform," Teddie thought and giggled.

At last, there were the metal arms with hairdressing tools and tattoo gun. Her shoulder length hair was dyed red and permanent made into a popular teenage girl's hairstyle, permanent makeup was tattooed on her face and a "BIMBO" tattoo covered her chest. She could not help giggling from the design of having a bimbo marking.

At last, her reality alternated to match and normalize all the changes except the fetish that had already undone. The cuffs and metal arms retreated and disappeared. She was the last one to complete her bimbosification. The other bimbos included the bus driver were having their fetish and giggled happily.

"It was fun to become bimbo like and not bad to alternate myself at all. Whenever I do not feel like to alternate to the other, just alternate myself in some way instead," she giggled when thought of how much fun she could get from alternating herself.



Walked around the bus, she looked at the handiwork of the built-in auto bimbo creating function of the bus.

The woman, who she gave a fetish of wearing prank painting or writing on herself, was in a set of bikini and a pair of rolling skaters and had a handy backpack. All her original tattoos and all the prank painting or writing tattoos were moved to notable places of the bare skin. She also had her hair dyed and permanent made into a popular teenage girl's hairstyle, had the permanent makeup and the "BIMBO" tattoo covered her chest. Most of the empty spot of her bare skin had prank painting or writing by marker. She had not been given a new fetish. She was giggling happily while painting more prank painting or writing on the empty spot of her bare skin.

The pet shop owner's uniform became a beautiful low cut animation version still with the cat ear headband, the cat tail and the large shop logo. She also had her hair done and got the permanent makeup and the bimbo marking on her chest. Beside the uniform, she also had worn a kerchief, some hairclips, a necklace and a hip length ponytail held by blue elastic bands with a small cat. She was hugging her pet catgirl very tight, partly flattened the catgirl's body and rubbing her face on the catgirl's fur from the new fetish of treating her pet catgirl like a rag cat and giggling.

Her pet catgirl was in the same uniform as hers. She wore a pet collar and ribbons and other pet ornament instead of the kerchief, hairclips and the necklace. Her fur had not been dyed, was in the same hairstyle as her owner without the ponytail. She did not have the permanent makeup, only had the bimbo marking on her chest. Her body was as soft and flexible as a ragged cat and adapted the treating of a ragged toy. She rested on her owner's lap, was playing pet toy and purred happily from the new fetish of fond of being treated like a ragged cat by her owner.

The bus driver was in a set of very revealing sport outfit. There was also the dyed hair permanent fixed in a new hairstyle, the permanent makeup and the bimbo marking. She also wore a gag and it was obvious that there were adult toys on her nipples, her crotch and her anus beneath her outfit. She was moaning while driving. The adult toys did not prevent her driving and the vibration of the bus increased her pleasure. It was her new fetish of enjoying pleasure of driving and adult toys together.

A cushier was in a corset, a miniskirt, a garter belt, a pair of thigh length stocking and a pair of heeled pumps, so as a permanent new hairstyle with dyed hair, permanent makeup and the bimbo marking. She had a fetish of printing advertising of her shop on the face of anyone who visited the shop. She had printed very large advertising stamps on some passengers who were her old customers and a few other passengers who agreed wearing advertising for her shop. She had put the stamps back into the boxes held on her garter belt and was chatting with a few passengers sat around her.

A makeup artist was in a sexy version of the outfit of Japanese comic book author character. She also had a marker pen held at her cleavage. Like the other bimbos created by the bus, she had dyed hair permanent held in a new hairstyle and the bimbo marking. Her permanent makeup also included a few of her masterpiece of body painting tattooed on her face and her body. She had a fetish of signing her name and painting a copyright marking on the face of her customers. She was giggling and imaging what she would paint on her living canvas in the appointment she was traveling to while preparing her makeup tools and the necessary different kinds and colours of cosmetic.

Teddie was a bit surprised to find the other schoolgirls of her college were in the same new school uniform as her. The bimbosification did not make an independent uniform design for each girl. She did not make very complex overall setup while designing the bus auto bimbo creating function. It seemed the setup itself automatically developed into some sort of AI.



Teddie was more surprised when looked into the bimbosification a young girl had got. Maggie had a doll like new body with dyed hair in complex animation hairstyle, wore some makeup and dressed like a doll. Her body had a setup of any cut would not form scar when healed, a setup up of her body would grow into the same Barbie like figure with jiggled breasts when she became a teenage girl and she would have the permanent makeup and the bimbo marking tattoo being done after becoming adult.

Maggie was traveling with her mother. Her mother had become a young looking bimbo in a tank top, a short jeans and a pair of sandals. She had a few tattoos of the signature of her favorite writers on her breasts and now giggling while reading. Her fetish was just traveling around for having the signature of her favorite writers and having them tattooed on her breasts. Maggie was playing with a doll, changing the doll's outfit again and again and smiling.

"Hello, sweetie. It looks like your doll is your friend. Do you think it was a bit pity that she could not have bimbosification like you?" asked Teddie.

"Yes it was. It should be impossible unless Wendy is alive," said Maggie in a sad look and stopped playing.

"It is possible now," she said and kissed Maggie.

The doll became a woman who was a living doll in the same outfit as her toy form. The cuffs and metal arms appeared from detecting a new woman passenger and retreated after the work had done. Wendy only had the bimbo marking and a new nametag for her identity of Maggie's doll friend and wore some makeup. Different kind of toy makeup tools and new costumes were added to the Maggie's doll wardrobe and toy sets.

Wendy hugged Maggie. Maggie giggled and rubbed her face against Wendy's breasts in the way of a child enquiring care from their parent. Wendy giggled too.

"Thank you very much, lady," said Maggie to Teddie. Teddie smiled.

"Time for another outfit," giggled Maggie as she took a set of maid outfit from the doll wardrobe and turned to Wendy. Wendy nodded. When the doll sized maid outfit touched Wendy, Wendy became in the maid outfit with the nametag and no makeup and Maggie held a set of Wendy previous outfit in doll size.

Maggie giggled, put the outfit into the wardrobe, took the toy makeup tools and wore makeup for Wendy. After the makeup had done, Wendy held her dress and bowed to Maggie. She smiled and said, "How could I help you, my lady?" Maggie giggled and painted a few little patterns on Wendy's body and giggled with Wendy together for the fun of acting a play. Teddie smiled and walked away.



Teddie talked to the bimbo schoolgirls and teachers of her college. They soon became bimbo friends and exchanged their seats with the other passengers for sitting together. She knew what could be done for more fun. She waved her finger for having a few alternations.

A few minutes later, the college was in view and the bus station that was closest to the college had moved to beside the college's gate. Teddie's home was now beside the college while the ones of the bimbo schoolgirls and teachers were in the neighborhood. They did not need to take the bus anymore.

Moreover, the girl dorm was rebuilt for having larger dorm rooms and a party hall in the whole ground floor. Teddie and her bimbo friends of teachers and schoolgirls in different years had the right to have a bed in the girl dorm, so as the other new bimbo schoolgirls and teachers, who the bus would create in future. They would also become her new friends and she would also move their home to the neighborhood. It would be more convenient for the bimbos to have fun together.

The bus stopped at the station beside the gate. Teddie and her bimbo friends got off the bus. She liked and enjoyed her reality alternator new identity very much now.

END

[xyz_2002]

This was the fifth story. Having an imagination for a different kind of omnipotence being.



The Unusual Spaceport

Date: March 2008

Categories:

mc: mind control
fd: female dominant
ts: time stop

Synopsis:

An omnipotence woman alternated the way of working of the custom in a spaceport for her fetish.



The Unusual Spaceport

by xyz_2002



Everything looked normal at the EU Airline's counter in the Earth International Spaceport. If you could look through the normalizing effect working on the spaceport, you would notice the custom worked in an unusual way corresponded to what was happening at the EU Airline's counter.

There were long queues at the EU Airline's counter. Most of the people in the queue were not going to book ticket for spaceship or ask information of the company spaceship. They were having the checking of the custom for leaving the Earth. They did not notice why they accepted that they could have custom checking at there and just went there for a faster custom checking.

There were five female clerks at the counter. They just barely looked at the passport of the visitor, then printed the airline's stamp on the latest place for custom stamp and painted some prank painting on the visitor's face with a marker. For the foreign visitors, they also would suddenly shifted into a different people before they left the queue. Then the visitor would leave the counter and walked directly through the custom counter with nobody stopped him or her.

The first, second, fourth and fifth woman of the counter wore nothing on their crotch. They occasionally stopped and stroked their slits or clits subconsciously and moaned. Nobody complained for the delay as it still far faster than the custom counter. The third woman, Sarah, was in the opposite clothing, only wore a miniskirt and a staff nametag on her left breast's nipple ring hole and stroked her nipples instead.



Sarah felt boring and barely looked at the passport the woman handed her. She stroked herself and moaned while flipped through the page and directly printed the airline's stamp. Then she picked her marker and painted a heart around the left eye of the woman and "I AM BIMBO" across her face and handed back the passport to her. The woman said "Thank you" to her, picked up her luggage and walked to the custom counter and directly went through.

As she wished, there were always many foreign visitors at her queue while most of the local visitors joined the other four queues. Then Sarah felt a bit happy, as the next visitor was a foreign visitor. A one feet tall female cartoon cat in a woman tour guide uniform stood on her hind legs, held a flag of the NA Touring Agency and followed by a group of foreigners from different planets. It was the tour guide Kitty of the NA Touring Agency and the tourists she took care of. They were coming for having custom checking for traveling back to their home at different planets after visiting the Earth. It was the time for her having fun. Sarah snapped her finger and stopped time. She walked out of the counter.



The cat tour guide Kitty used to be a normal woman born in a different planet. The NA Touring Agency under the large airline company NA Airline that had its own custom counter among the custom counter. There was only one NA Airline's spaceship taking off each day and the limited number of passengers helped keep the company's custom service very fast. It was normal for Kitty and her tourist group going to NA Airline's custom counter and never going to the other custom counter.

Sarah noticed her in one of her previous visit to the Earth and summoned her group to Sarah's counter. She alternated Kitty into what she was now and renamed her as Kitty. There was another alternation that Kitty would guide as much as touring visit to the Earth as possible in her agency and have the custom checking at Sarah's counter when they leave the Earth. She also alternated Kitty's foreign tourist group and having the NA Touring Agency from now on becoming another touring agency had its custom checking at her counter.

It was almost the hundred times Kitty visited the Earth in this year and almost the ten thousand times after she became a cartoon cat. A cartoon cat never became old and nobody in the NA Touring Agency minded her age or would like her to retire at the retirement age for their company's staff.



There was a pair of couple came to visit the Earth for their honeymoon as the Earth was the mother planet of both their ancestors. Sarah exchanged their gender and alternated their name into the opposite gender's version. She gave them the fetish of cross-dressing and calling each other in the way of the opposite gender. They would dress in the outfit of their original gender, go on calling each other in their original way and mislead stranger for their gender.

"That's it," she chucked. She had been doing this trick on every foreign couple she met. She alternated their outfits into fancy cartoon outfits for the kind of character who had no sense of fashion. "Now I would not mislead from the look that I had not met them before if they come again," Sarah chucked again and moved on to the next tourist in Kitty's group.


The next one was a woman university student who was interesting in fiction on magic and other kind of fantasy. Sarah increased her age for fourth years with her looked remain young. She alternated her into a fiction writer who had graduated from the same university and only wrote fantasy fiction. She alternated her sport suit in a sexy witch costume for Halloween party, gave her a fetish of wearing witch outfit and it was her well-known fetish for her readers. As a joke, she renamed her as Ms Fiction Archive. "Now you can always read and write your most favorite kind of fiction," Sarah kissed her and walked away.


A woman scientist was her next victim. She was not very into the touring but more on shopping for ancient Earth goods. Sarah Merged her with her portable computer and built-in as many of kinds of electric appliance and other different kinds of artifact common used in a city as she knew into her body. She would hold as much space as a very large city if she took out all her built-in artifacts.

The scientist became an android in a fancy outfit in a design of an improper crossover between ten different types of ancient woman fashions. Sarah could not help laughing from her new form. "You used to call Stephanie. You have owned what you wanted and you can use your body for holding an ancient Earth culture exhibition. You don't need to employ any security. Nobody could steal them from you. You are Stephaniebot now," Sarah still could not stop chucking while renamed her.


The last one in the group was a male lawyer who would like to take a rest from touring. "You look like having a very busy occupation and need a better job. Here you are," said Sarah as she alternated her into a rookie reporter who would always travel between his mother planet and the Earth. She alternated his outfits into the one for adventurer in a videogame and his luggage into a portable set for online newspaper publishing, live News broadcasting and remote communication between planets. A detailed news report for touring around the Earth was ready. "Nobody could prevent you from reporting a news. Making a good job," she said and turned around and left the queue.



There were only three foreigners in the other four queues. Sarah came to the first one, a very tall, confidence looking woman. She looked into her mind and found out she was a dominatrix. Sarah snapped her finger and alternated the woman's outfit into a leather bra, a leather panties and a pair of leather boots and wore permanent makeup of a dominatrix makeup and many piercing. She reversed her personality that she would submissive to her original slaves boy friend and they would exchange their post in their BDSM relation. There would marry and go on called each other "My Mistress" and "My slave" for a sweetie feeling. "Be a good girl and have a sweet marriage," She said and walked to the next foreigner.


A sales executive was the next one. He came to the Earth for an important contract for the company. The company could once leading the Earth's economy again. "You worth a promotion for your good job. More work as well," Sarah chucked and alternated him into the company CEO and would go on traveling around instead of sending his employees to take care of the heavy workload. His expensive business outfits were alternated into a very simple designed one only existed in the animation with a staff nametag for an image of an office assistant.


The last one was a woman having a touring by herself. "You are very brave," chucked Sarah. The woman's outfits disappeared. She became bustier. Feather covered her whole body except her face. Her arm shifted into a pair of wings with human arm's ability. Her whole body except her head and her breasts shifted into a human sized eagle and became a feet shorter than her human form. She began lay eggs instead of born baby. "Take care of your eggs. The brave harpy Annie," said Sarah for renaming her and she went back to her seat at the counter in a cheering mood.



"Time for a good job after a good rest," said Sarah to herself and she snapped for restarting time.

Kitty was too short for the counter.

"Please, come up here," said Sarah and signaled for her.

Kitty jumped on the counter and handed her passport. Sarah directly printed the stamp and handed back the passport. She painted a pair of glasses and "PET CAT" on her face and patted her. Kitty purred and nodded to her. She jumped on the ground, stayed beside the queue and waited for her alternated tourist group having the custom checking. A good tour guide would always take care of her tourist group.

Sarah smiled at Kitty's good working attitude while laughed at herself in the back of her mind for being the worst employee as the android scientist Stephaniebot came forward and handed her passport with her android identity for a foreign planet's free resident. Robot was still main be owned as home electric appliance in many way.

Anyone might think that an omnipotence being would never apply for an occupation and enjoy himself of herself from traveling around and toy anyone or anything in will and bring anyone or anything away for increasing the collection. It was not always true. She was the one who liked having an occupation. Her job gave her a good chance for satisfying her fetish of toying the life of foreigners. She also could have a rest from fulfilling her fetish.

Sarah printed the airline stamp and handed back the passport and the android identity. She had to hold herself from bursting into a laugh while writing "STEPH" across the forehead of the android and then waved her for the checking was done.

END

[xyz_2002]

This was the sixth story and the last one. It had already late for sending. Having more story of the raping criminal Peter and his high tech real alternating stopwatch. Anybody who would like to read my flash The Train Phantom could have a look and comment both together.



A Sequel to The Train Phantom

Date: March 2008

Categories:

mc: mind control
md: male dominant
ts: time stop

Synopsis:

Peter fucked and marked another woman he alternated in a train and more.



A Sequel to The Train Phantom

by xyz_2002



The now cartoon like bimbo looking woman began arching backward from reaching her orgasm and as usual, automatically froze her motion like everybody in the train.

"Time to take care of the mess," said Peter and pressed the security hot key on his stopwatch, removed all his cum, fingerprint, hair or any other evident and prevented the woman from becoming pregnant so as anyone from finding out who raped the woman.

He looked at his creation and sneered while he was deciding where and what kind of tattoo marking at this time.

A forty year old office lady who now had a cute cartoon like body of a teenage girl with Barbie like unreal long and thin arms and legs. She had a pair of well shaped double F breasts and very large apple shaped ass that already looked very large on her original body and obvious unreal compared to her teenage body. Her face looked very young and had a pair of very large teenage animation girl's eyes and chin length smooth natural blue hair. There was a cartoon girl tattoo on her left face and a few other girlish tattoos on her chest, her wrists, her ankles and her upper back.

She was in a spotted kerchief, a bra like skimpy pink sweater, a pair of half thigh length light blue short and a pair of white sock and a pair of red heeled sandal. She also had popular teenage makeup, a few hairclips and elastic bands with ornament in star and other shape, a small pair of ear rings, a choker, a long necklace and many bracelets on her wrists and ankles.

Her sweater had slipped about her breasts and her short had slipped to her ankles in the raping.

Anybody who did not know her could misidentify her as a young university student with a teenage girl's face, a pop city girl who was going to have fun, than a manager who was allowed coming home early from her work. And from now on, everyone would accept that it was normal for her having a wardrobe of popular teenage belongings and having them as her dress code at work.

"Always remember that you are my fucktoy." After making the decision, he pressed the marking button and a round stamp shaped tattoo "Property of Peter" formed around her right eye.



"Let's have more fun before restarting time and going back to the company," he said to himself.

Peter was just feeling bored again while working in one of his company. As usual, he came to the train station for fucking a woman in a train for having some fun. There was no woman he had already alternated for the future using in view. He could call for a random ready for using alternated woman from somewhere nearby for fucking and marking in the train but he decided to create a new one. He selected an unattractive manager woman who looked a bit worn out of her beauty and tired after working. He stopped time when the train doors were half closed and got on the train. Then he alternated her into her new self, fucked her and marked on her face.

Unlike the other people, beautiful women were not his choice as he could make more creation from alternating a plain looking or unattractive woman. Now he had already eased his boredom from fucking and marking a woman he alternated. In the mean time, having more fun just meant alternating more women ready for his future using.

The manager woman came home alone. His victim took the train alone was not rare for him and he would alternate the other women in a topic unrelated to the victim in this situation. Cosplay, anthro or other topic that was more unrelated to the real world. It was not in the peak hour and the train carriage was not crowded but there were already fifteen women in the carriage. The large number enabled him from creating a collection on a certain topic.

"There are not many collections with more than ten different items remained unused. Let's have the twelve signs of Chinese zodiac this time and take care of the other three afterward," he said to himself and pressed the button for switching the keyboard from the one with independent body settings for subtle manipulating to the one with combination of settings for topic relating alternation.

"Let's have them working in the same company for staying together, it would be easy to know where they are and call them in the working hour." He selected all the fifteen women and pressed the occupation hot key and the women had a blank staff nametag without their name, their post and even the company logo.



"The mouse first." The first one was a small woman. She got the large ears of Mickey Mouse and his very long and thin mouse's tail. Her hair shifted into the chin length short fur in the hairstyle of Mickey Mouse. Her eyes became very large animation girl eyes and she grew whiskers and always carried a friendly smile. Her small figure had now become the figure of a ten-year-old young girl. Her outfit shifted into the splendour outfit of an animation princess to match with her look. Instead of black, Peter had her whiskers, her fur on her head, her ears and her tail to be light violet. She looked very attractive now.

"Alright. A touring agency," said Peter as he read her datafile. He created a new touring agency under one of his transportation company and named "Anthro Touring". He switched to the logo menu and selected the cartoon of a cat in the tour guide outfit with a flag as the company logo. The company logo appeared on the women's nametag included "Anthro Touring" on the flag.

The mouse girl used to be a tour guide. She was given the skill of first aid and driving different kinds of vehicles and received a driver license, a cute backpack with first aid tools and medicines and a flag with the company logo. Peter grinned for doing a trick on renaming as "Tour Guide" and "Minnie" appeared on her post and name. Besides tour guide, she was also the touring couch driver for her touring routine.



"Here is the ox." A busty woman was selected. She grew cow horns and tail and had cow ears. Her hair became shoulder length fur with the black and white fur pattern of the milking cow and curled up at the end. Her olive skin became creamy white with patches of dark tanning also in the shaped of milking cow's fur pattern. Her double D breasts became a pair of gravity denied double G and able to milk as much time as possible. Her new outfits were a white bra, a light gray miniskirt and a pair of white sport shoes.

The cowgirl renamed as Booby and became the waitress of company canteen that also would open to the outsiders. She would feel very happy that her milk would be a popular drink in the canteen.



"Here come for the tiger." A blonde woman with built up muscle was selected to be the tiger girl. After the alternation, she looked more likely a catgirl with brown strips of tiger's fur pattern on her blonde fur, large green animation cat eyes, black whiskers, black strips of birthmarks in the shaped of tiger's fur pattern on her face and snowy white skin.

Her built up muscle disappeared while her strong strength from having gym remained. She was given different kinds of sport skills. She was in a dark sport bra, a white tennis dress and a pair of tennis shoes. Her new name and post are "Cathy" and "Exercise Trainee". She taught an exercise class at the football field besides the company building for local touring promotion. Beside the exercise trainee's work, she was the warehouse keeper and helped moving the supplies to the office and the canteen and felt good that her sport skills and strength could help the company in some ways.



"Time for the hare." A redhead was alternated to have brown bunny ears, tails and a large pair of red cartoon girl eyes. She also had a pair of much large rabbit tooth that would be in view when she smiled or spoke. Her curled red hair had become long wavy brown fur about to reach her lower back.

She was in a sexy fire red bunnysuit, a set of transparent dark pant hose and a pair of high heel. She was the receptionist and renamed as Bunny. She would always smile, bow to the visitors and greet them and it would not delay her receptionist work.

From her opinion, the bunnygirl uniform of her previous occupation really did not fit with the employer's industry and image, while she felt it was suitable for her new occupation as everybody in the touring agency were in different special design outfits.



"The others are already different from the image of Chinese legendary. Let's have the western dragon as well."

As dragon was the god of ocean and raining in Chinese, a woman who could swim was selected. She was alternated to have green hair, a few inch length small dragon horns on her head, a pair of two feet width dragon wings and a short dragon tail.

Her swimming skill had become perfect. Besides the ability of flying, she was given the ability to breath in water and bring good weather, so as the skill of first aid, driving vehicles and ships and received the driver licenses for vehicles and ships, a waterproof backpack with first aid tools and medicines and the company flag.

The dragon girl's outfits were a set of blue bikini and a pair of sandals. She was renamed as Sunny and became the second tour guide and touring for ocean trips.



"Serpent could be a bit tricky. Have everything on imagination," he chucked.

A very thin woman was selected. She was alternated to have a more slender body with unreal long arms and legs and became taller. Her body became very flexible, able to curl up in any way like a rope. She could be a model if she was not been given a small pair of sparking snake eye but still fit the requirement of becoming a dancer. A face of a teenage girl with innocent smile helped her looked well again.

Her senses were improved and she was given snake's sense of detecting animal's body temperature. She was in a skimpy leather outfit of fetish policewoman uniform with snake's scale pattern and the "Security" entitled star badge of cowboy instead of the police logo. She was renamed as Sandy and was one the company security.



"Horse would be a funny one with different options," he chucked again.

A tall woman with an athletic body was selected. Her hair became shoulder length light brown fur of horse neck and also styled as the horse neck fur. She had horse ears and grew dark brown horse's tail. Her upper body stretched to double the length and had unreal long and thin arms and legs. Her running skill was improved to an unreal speed and she could run faster on all four as faster as a good horse.

She was renames as Pony and was the company agent for applying touring to the local jockey club and other private good touring spot. She was in a short sport suit, a tennis dress and a pair of sport shoes and had a backpack with a gag and a pet collar.

Beside the agent occupation, the jockey club allowed her to race with the horse in the private competitions as the company's horse. In the race or her practice, she just had to strip herself and put on the gag and the pet collar and she would be allowed to joined the role of a jockey racehorse and even run on the road. There was rope on the gag like the horse's one for jockey rider and a license for a jockey racehorse on the pet collar. Her speed would not slow down from having a rider and it was another way of advertising for her strolling around the city with the rider in the holiday.



"Time for the ram. Another helper." An experienced office lady was selected. She became a young woman again with sheep ears and tail. She had a small pair of cute animation sheep horns just beside her ears. Her hair became very short and curly white wool. She was in a green tank top, a blue short jean length two inches about her knees, a pair of knee length stocking and a pair of platform.

Her common office skills were improved and she was given the skills for office management. She was renamed as Lamby and became the manager of the General Department. Her work was the management of all the office chore works. Her wool would fall off once a day into a load of one type of wool product with the company logo for the supply of company's specific souvenirs and grow back in a few seconds.



"The monkey now. The most human like one." The woman who had been a Girl Scout was selected. Not many changes had been done to her look. She had monkey's ears and tail, a large pair of animation girl eyes and the body of a teenage girl.

She was in a skimpy fetish Girl Scout uniform and received a driver license, first aid tools and medicines in her Girl Scout backpack and the company flag. Her Girl Scout skills, especial the first aid, were improved and received the skill of driving different kind of vehicles. She was renamed as Mandy, the third tour guide for country touring. The monkey girl loved the natural very much and enjoyed having her work at country area.



"Time for the rooster." A brown hair woman was selected. Her new body looked more like a harpy. Her brown hair became brown feather and grew a chicken tail. She grew the crown of a chicken on her head and her mouth become chicken's peck. Her legs became chicken's legs and her arms became wings with the ability of human arms.

She only had a large apron with her staff nametag and walked on bare foot. Her new name was Chacy and she was another waitress of company canteen. She the second one got the ability to fly and was given the ability to laid as much eggs as possible as the supply for the canteen.



"Time for a dog. With a bit different design." A woman who had been a security was selected. She got dog's ears, tail, long tongue and a small figure for her new occupation. She was in a brown skimpy cowboy outfit with the "Security" entitled star badge on the left chest. She also had a pet collar and held her staff nametag on it.

She was renamed as Dolly and became another security of the company. Her senses were improved. She received good martial arts and the skill of a jockey rider. Besides her security work, she was the partner of the pony girl on her horse work. She was her jockey rider in her race and practice. She would also bring the company flag and a speaker in the advertising strolling around the city in the holiday.



"Boar is the last one of the Chinese zodiac." A plump woman was selected. She had the pig ears, coiled short tail and the pig nose and a large pair of animation eyes and a body of teenage girl. She was in a sexy light blue cook's uniform with a yellow apron and looked a bit cute. Her hair was held into a bum inside her cook hat.

She received the skill of a professional cook and the skill for cooking different country's food. She was renamed as Patty and became the cook of the company canteen.



"Time for the other three women," he said as he moved them beside the Chinese zodiac anthro woman.



The first woman was a schoolgirl who was traveling back home after her part time work. She got reindeer ears, tail and a small pair of cute reindeer antlers. Her outfit became the sexy Miss Santa outfit that was in a very revealing design more likely for taking Christmas advertising video. She had a large bag of the company's flyer and souvenirs.

She was renamed as Reiny, a promoter who would greet and give souvenirs to the visitors and disturb flyers at the mall.



The second woman was a swimming trainer. He simply alternated her into a mermaid in a blue shell shaped top with hip length wavy blue hair and a blue tail. Then he shifted her into her human transformation, had her blue hair tied into a ponytail with a deep blue ribbon and put on a blue one-piece Japanese school swimming suit and a pair of blue boots for rainy day.

Her swimming skill became perfect. She received the ability to breath in water, so as the skill of first aid, driving vehicles and ships and received the driver licenses for vehicles and ships and the company flag. Unlike the other staffs that had received handy luggage, she had a large waterproof luggage box with first aid tools and medicines and other things.

Her new name was Mona and she was the fourth tour guide. She was the partner of the dragon girl Sunny and worked together in the ocean touring.



"We need somebody taking care of the computer work," he said as the last woman was turned into an android woman with blue eyes and long blonde hair, in a set of slivery bra and slivery panties, a pair of silvery roller skaters and white headpieces with colourful LED lights. She was given the perfect knowledge of computer programming.

Her old name was Stephanie and she was renamed as Stephaniebot. There was also a barcode with the serial ROBOT-UNIT-8 on her staff nametag as she was the eighth android woman Peter had created. She was the system programmer of the company and helped to handle the computer work and update the company's website.



"I need more employees for the agency," Peter said and switched the keyboard to the one for operating search engine. A list of the other for future using alternated women was in sight. After entering a few more requirements, the list only had the women who were in the other carriages of this train and were not working in any of his company. There were forty of them, enough people for the other posts of the Touring Agency.

He gave them their staff nametags and alternated their occupation to the post that looked plausible with their CV and improved their working skills. The matching was in fact not necessary as he could give them relevant skills and nobody would feel abnormal for the unusual choice of the employee for a certain post.

"And the location of our Anthro Touring," he switched to the map and zoomed to the area around the next train station. There was no football field for his plan, but there was a large unused land besides a non-rented building at a few minutes of walking from the station.

"That was a piece of cake." Peter alternated the landscape, had the non-rented building became the "Anthro Touring" touring agency's two-storeyed office building with a canteen on the ground, added a football field and the touring agency's parking lot at the unused land.

"Time for everything ready for the new reality," he said. He moved the passengers of a row of seat and the row on the opposite side and the ones that stood between these two rows to the neighbor rows. He had the mermaid Mona took the seat, the cartoon like bimbo clothing manager woman stood in front of her and the other fourteen random took seat beside Mona or stood between the two rows of the seat. He sat on the opposite row and pressed the button for restarted time.



The doors closed and the train left the station. As usual, nobody in the train noticed anyone was in a new position. The fifteen women did not notice they used not to be "Anthro Touring" touring agency's anthro women staffs. The forty other women in the other carriages did not notice they used not to be "Anthro Touring" touring agency's staffs either. It was because anything happened in the timestopped world would automatically manipulate the reality to match with the result, except that the fact of a woman was being raped and marked by Peter was presetted as a different that could be noticed.

"Oh," the manager woman shouted as there was suddenly an orgasm and the aching from face tattooing ran through her. She tripped by her short in her arching backward posture and lost her balance. She fell on Mona and began cumming on her. Mona transformed back into a mermaid from getting wet.

"I am sorry," said the manager woman to Mona as she tried to stand up when she was still cumming her tail.

"Never mind," said Mona as she helped the manager to stand up. The touring agency staffs had come over the stunning from the surprising event. They stood around them and blocked the view from the other passengers.

"Would you like some help?" asked Mona as she took a towel from her luggage and handed it to the woman.

"No, thanks," answered the woman as she tried to wipe away the cum on her legs with a handkerchief.

"Alright," said Mona and she wiped her tail with the towel and went on drying her tail with a handy hairdryer ran on battery. She put the wet towel into the bag for laundry and transformed herself into the human. It seem she often got wet in the new reality.

The woman's handkerchief was soon in a mess. The reindeer girl promoter Reiny took some wool towel from her bag and gave them to her. She refused at first but accepted them after knowing that they were free gifts.

"Are you okay?" asked the mouse girl tour guide Minnie.

"I feel someone had just raped me and tattooed my face," said the woman. She had stopped cumming and began tidying up her sweater and her short.

"It was impossible, I could not find the smell of man's cum or any new smell from your body except Mona's. Mona is the mermaid you had felt onto," said the doggie woman security Dolly. "I could not find anything either," said the snake woman security Sandy.

"Have you see how it happened Stephanie?" asked the sheep woman General Department manager Lamby.

"I can not find anything from the security video. Let's play the video and we search through it again," said the android woman Stephaniebot. Then a 3D video image of what had happened in the new reality appeared in the space between them.

The view of Peter got on the train in the last station and took the seat at the opposite row of them, while the manager woman stood properly in front of Mona. Her sweater and short was still dressed properly and she did not have the marking tattoo on her face. Then at the instant of the doors half closed, the woman suddenly shifted into the arching back posture with the tattoo was already on her face and her sweater and her short were at their new position. The woman began shouting, tripped by her short and fell onto Mona.

Under everyone's requirement, Stephaniebot played the video for several more times in slow motion and included as much of the station and the different carriages of the train as she could and they could not find anything. Nobody in the train or the station had moved to a new position or shifted into a different posture at that instant indicated that they could not be the criminal who had used timestop or other special ability to get the chance of raping the woman.

"It is strange, as lack of evident as strange stories of the urban legend of the Train Phantom," said the tiger woman exercise trainee Cathy as the video image disappeared.

"You mean the police unfinished cases of women being raped and tattooed by unknown criminal on a train?" asked the rabbit woman receptionist Bunny.

"There are more cases that had not reported to the police. I believe the poor incident happened on her is another one, especially from the marking tattoo on her face," said the cowgirl waitress Booby.

"There were very rare a photo of the tattoo on their news. How could you identify it?" asked the chicken woman waitress Chacy.

"Stephanie, please open the webpage of Train Phantom Photographed Story Archive and it forum," said Booby and told the link of website.

"Please wait a second," said Stephaniebot and two images of the TPPSA webpage and the forum webpage appeared. Booby led the TPPSA webpage into the link of the news section. Three of the news had the "Property of Peter" marking tattoo's photo. They were in different shapes on the different positions of the body of the victims. A branding iron shaped one on the thigh, a memo shaped one on the back and a tattoo on the arm of a packed present box with the attached card had the marking slogan.

Then Booby led the forum webpage to the topic for the photo collections. There were photos from nearly a thousand different people, included the zoomed in photo of the tattoo. Very few of them had some kind of calling for the people, had the face of the people or had a short video of the tattoo or the video accidentally included the view of the instant of a woman became a victim. There were not only human women in the victims. Women of Anthro, living animation or any other imaginable races were also the targets of the Train Phantom. The shape, the size and the position of the tattoo sometimes repeated but it would not repeat when these three classifications were all selected.

"How could there is a worst criminal like this," said the dragon girl tour guide Sunny angrily when the webpage image disappeared. She knew many of the photo's would be fake or misidentified but it was very possible the number of victims was more than a thousand and there would be criminals who tried to perform raping in a similar way.

"Please do not post the photo or video at anywhere," said the pony girl agent Pony to Stephanie.

"Don't worry. I would not," answered Stephaniebot.

"If the police ask you about any other evident or anybody who witness the crime. Please phone us for the video or witnessing the crime," said the piggie woman cook Patty and Reiny handed her an advertising flyer.

"Thank you very much," said the woman as she received the flyer.

The train arrived at the next station.

"Would you get off and go to report to the police with us at this station?" asked the monkey woman tour guide Mandy.

"No, thanks. I would take care of it," answered the woman. She did not know she would not report to the police from her own will. Moreover, she would forget she had been raped today, so as how she got the marking tattoo today.

"Goodbye," said the fifteen anthro women staffs and waved to the woman as they got off the train with Peter. The forty "Anthro touring" staffs on the other train carriage got off too. The woman waved back as the train left.



Peter had listened to their talking all the way and sneered in the back of his mind. There was rare a chance to view the whole incident of the new identity even he could not see himself in the video. He could get the video of the whole incident and the talk from Stephaniebot's memory without she knew it had happened.

He knew the TPPSA website and had a view of it for the videos and photos. There was about 70% of the photos were from his victims and the number of his victims was more than five thousands. Most of them had forgotten the incident before anybody else knew it had happened. Many people only guessed the tattoo on a woman was his marking from a few characteristics the website had concluded and these characteristics were really some of the characteristics of his victims. For the number of the alternated women left for future using, included Stephaniebot and the other "Anthro Touring" staffs, it would be more than a million.

There were a few touring coach of "Anthro Touring" waited outside the train station. Peter and the fifteen staffs in his carriage went on the first one with Minnie took the driver seat while the forty staffs from the other carriages went on the other ones. They drove back to go on with their work at "Anthro Touring" as there were still a few hours before the end of the touring agency's working hour.

On the way, Peter sneered in the back of his mind again. Even with the interesting traveling agency "Anthro Touring" and all the other interesting company he had created, he would still often feel boring. Then he would go on getting on a train, fucking and marking the for future using alternated women he called from somewhere in the city or the new selected women he alternated in the train and so as go on alternating more women for the future using.

END