Category Archives: oral

Replacement Lover

It was as if she didn’t need him anymore, James thought. They were still married, he was still her submissive, but nothing was the same. Nothing had been, since she brought him home.

Alex was his name, and he was a big man. Tall, muscled, huge. Even his cock was a monster — two inches wide and ten inches long (James remembered how she made him measure it.)

Their lovemaking — at least his part in it — had become routine. She’d lock him up as soon as he got home from work. Alex would arrive soon after and they’d adjourn immediately to their bedroom. Then she’d call for him, and he’d crawl to the bedroom.

She’d left him no choice. James’ hands and ankles bound together, so he could only shuffle into the bedroom. Once there, Alex and his wife would already be naked. His wife, his Mistress, would have her legs splayed wide. Alex’s gigantic member would be bouncing, ready.

“Get me wet,” she would command. James occasionally wondered why she wasn’t already wet — she’d never had a problem with that before, but most of the time he was too quickly thrust against her cunt. He’d lick her until her juices were flowing and she was covered in spit. Then Alex would grab him and shove him out of the way.

Alex’s huge cock would pierce her slit, stretching it obscenely wide. James had not choice but to watch it slide, inexorably in and out of his Mistress’ cunt. She would moan in ever increasing pitch and tempo crying out in loud orgasm. Alex would fill her cunt soon after with an apelike grunt.

Then she’d demand his attention again. “Clean me out James.” She would usually come as his tongue sought out Alex’s offensive cum, swallowing it down as he did so. Lately, Alex had been demanding similar services, and James was forced to suck and lick the giant thing that had fucked his wife.

After he was clean, and newly hard, Alex would push him off the bed onto the wooden floor. He’d climb into the bed, spooning with his wife, running his cock between her asscheeks, sometimes fucking her again, sometimes drifting off to pleasant sleep.

Their loud lovemaking was his new alarm clock, and he was called again to cleaning service. After he was done the dominating couple would release him with only enough time to shower and dress before he had to return to work.

After he got to work, he’d find a bathroom. Any one would do, but he preferred ones that weren’t on his regular floor. He’d find a stall, drop his pants, and free his continuously hard cock. He’d masturbate, thinking of the morning and the night before, and the way they had used him.

James dreaded getting caught. By work, or worse, by his wife. But she hadn’t let him touch himself when she was around since she brought Alex home.

And James found he couldn’t resist.

Society Initiation

At least Darren was in the same position she was. It made sense considering they’d decided to do this together, submission to the Society. They were both naked and on their knees. Her lower calves were roped together; her forearms were bound behind her back. Two clamps were tightened down on her nipples and a jar hung between the the clamps, suspended on a chain.

Every few minutes or so, someone would come up, drop some small change in the jar, and jam their cock in her mouth. Sometimes they’d let her do it, but most of them just grabbed her long blonde hair, and fucked her face. They’d come, in her or on her, and the next one would step up.

Darren was mostly doing women, and they took longer. When is a woman done coming anyway? It’s not like with men. So Allie had some hope that she’d fill her jar before he did, even though it dragged down on her breast more and more as the men lined up to get a blow.

This was their night as entertainment for the Society’s club. Each time a pair of slaves was chosen to do whatever evil thing the dominants from the Society wanted. Usually it was a competition between them, and whoever won went — mostly — unbound for the day, and weren’t as restricted as normal. The last time she’d won, Allie had spent the day in bed masturbating over and over until she rubbed herself raw.

The next few days hadn’t been very comfortable, but since the Society didn’t guarantee them orgasm (in fact, quite the opposite), it was well worth it. Of course, losing was much less pleasant. The penalties involved were painful and unpleasant. And you were barred from orgasm for a week or more, a punishment the Society reveled in.

Lately they had taken to pairing her with her husband. If she won, he’d be put into a male chastity belt, and whipped and caned. Of course, if she lost, then the same would happen to her. Of course, she thought, wily, he would never be able to take advantage of “orgasm day” as fully as she could, and the thought of him bound, whipped, sent tingles through her.

The man in her mouth came against the back of her throat, and she dutifully swallowed. She didn’t care about the act anymore, but still loved the feel of being used, of being forced to choose whether she or her husband would be the one punished. Of course, Darren faced the same choices, and from the looks of things as he went down on Mistress Talia, he enjoyed it well.

Talia shuddered in orgasm, and she dropped several coins in Darren’s jar. He winced at the new weight against his nipples, and Talia pulled him back down to her cunt. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to work! Allie looked down at her jar, barely half-full, and over at her husband’s which was at least three-quarters full!

Before she could react, there was tinkling of coins, and another cock at her lips. She sucked him as he fucked her mouth. She realized she may not win, and her pussy clenched. Allie wasn’t sure which she wanted. If desire had been simple for her, she wouldn’t have joined the Society.

Behind her, she felt the gentle caress of Mistress Marie. “Suck well, my darling, you have to get through a lot more men than your precious husband. I have a wager running on this, and if you fail me, well, I’ll make sure your punishment is exquisite.”

Allie moaned around the cock, sucking harder, trying to get him off faster and better. Behind her, Mistress Marie cackled with glee. Allie orgasmed as cum hit the back of her throat.

The Society mentioned here becomes the main rail of Sir Tortuga’s Society/Fucktoy Blog as well as influencing Girl #16180.  It’s probable the Society exists in the Cuckolder and Fellatist universes as well. I hope to write some stuff about them again. In fact, the next archival piece follows Allie and Darren, somewhat. (And mirrors some of the other more current pieces I’ve been writing, which is interesting.  For instance, compare this with “to Suck” .

to Suck

She’d begged him to make her feel like only an object, something to be used. He warned her that he’d do even more than that, and he had. She knelt there with only one job, one thing she could do. The cock in her mouth slid back and forth and she sucked. Yes she licked, nipped, and kissed as well, but her charge was to suck.

It was a private BDSM party; they’d been planning to go for a while. They’d come early, and he’d had her kneel by the entrance while we went in and talked to someone. He came out smiling, and told her to strip. He bound her hands behind her back and then tied them to her shackled ankles. He slid a blindfold on her and she could see nothing, but she heard the sound of his phone taking a picture.

The blindfold came off and he showed her. She was naked by the registration desk. Beside her was a glass jar that said “25 cents”. Her blindfold said “Suck Whore” – one word on each eye. She looked up at him and he arched his eyebrow. She nodded, and he slid the blindfold down.

She heard a coin clink against the glass jar, and a zipper slide open. A cock was at her lips, and he said, “Suck.” So she did.

People trickled in, and lined up at the registration desk. And while they waited, they lined up for her. The glass would tinkle and she’d open her mouth. A cock would slide in, and she would suck. Sometimes it was a pussy or an ass, sometimes a toy which she slathered with spit. But mostly, it was cocks.

She was just someone who sucked. Someone from a picture. Cocks came and went and time passed, and she sucked. She was an object that they used, a little something to get them started on their night. Most didn’t come, but for those who did, she sucked it down. Some fucked her face, but she still sucked on their cocks while they did it, and gasped for air afterwards.

Slowly the image faded, as the cocks came faster and faster, sometimes two or three at a time, all pressing against her cheeks waiting for her sucking. For her to suck. To suck, that’s all she was.

To suck, will suck, is sucking. Shall suck, can suck, did suck. Suck, sucks, suck. Suck, sucking, sucked.

She wasn’t even a thing anymore, just a verb. An action, a motion, an occurrence. She existed only so long as there was sucking to do. The glass clinked, and she sucked.

Later, much later, as she doubted herself because the cocks were gone and there were no more to suck, he came to her. He knelt down to her, and held her face in his hands. Her cum and sweat soaked face. He slid the blindfold off, and she blinked, even though the room was dark.

Her lips smacked, empty. Her face turned to his fingers, to suck them, to exist again.

“Come back to me,” he said. She blinked and remembered him. “Look at what you earned,” he said, nodding to the jar full of coins and bills. “Looks like we will get that new flogger.”

She looked at him in confusion.

Her brushed her sweaty hair out of her eyes. “You did well,” he said. He unshackled her feet, and pulled her out of her bonds. She was tight, and ached as he pulled her up. Her aches reminded her who she was, that she was. That she was his submissive, and she’d asked him to make of her an object, and he’d sworn he’d do more.

“Thank you, Master.” He held out a robe for her, and she shrugged into it. Their room was a floor down, she remembered.

“You are welcome, Juliet. Now, let’s go rest.”

He took her hand and led her to bed, where she would sleep and dream of being to suck.

Thanks as always to my wives, Tam and Kat, for proofreading.

This story was somewhat inspired by Shon Richards’ The Urge to Suck which is excellent and entirely different, except for the whole sucking thing.

The Sultan's Slave

“So,” the Sultan said, as he stroked her breasts and belly with a feather from some exotic bird. “You did not want to become a slave, yet you are one anyway.”

“That is right, Sir,” she said. Her hands were bound above her head, her ankles were tied together. This was no longer strange. “I don’t know how this happened, exactly.”

“Tell me, then, what went wrong with your life?”

“I’m not sure. Perhaps if they hadn’t gotten their hooks into my daughter Cassie. Perhaps if I hadn’t lied to my husband about the blackmail. Perhaps if I hadn’t gone to that hotel the first time; if I’d never answered the personal ad.”

“But you did.” His hand roamed over her nipples. The rings Marcus and Jacob had insisted she get made them so much more sensitive. Her husband had never quite understood, but he’d noticed and enjoyed the change. She wondered where he was today.

“Yes, I did. I was lonely, my sex life uninteresting. I thought it was my husband’s fault. Now I’m not so sure. If I’d only been more available to him, more willing to experiment.”

“You have always been willing to try new things with me.” His long middle finger slid between her labia, teasing her clit. She gasped.

“It’s not a question of willing anymore,” she said. “I am what I am.”

He teased her clit with care and precision. Tiny shocks shot through her. He grabbed one of the nipple rings with his teeth, and twisted and pulled on it. She angled her knees out, giving him as much access as he wanted, trying to urge him on.

“Mother. Wife. Free woman?” He asked around her nipple.

“No, not anymore.” He slid two fingers inside her, his thumb pressing on her clit, pressing it and rubbing it. He bit her nipples and she cried out in passion.

“What then? What?”

“Slut. Slave. Concubine in your Harem. Your whore.”

“Yes.” She felt his cock press against her as he continued rubbing her clit. “But you want to go back, right? To be with your husband, your children?”

He stopped playing with her for a moment while she answered. “No!” she almost shouted, unsure of whether she was answering his question or complaining that he had stopped. Both, she knew, deep in her soul. He returned to what he was doing. “I’m yours,” she said. “Always. To do with as you please.”

He grinned. “Come for me my little slave.” She cried out in response. They had trained her well.

“Some day,” he said, as she floated down from orgasm. “You will tell me the whole story of how you came to be here.”

“Yes, your Highness,” she said.

“But for now, I have other needs.” He grabbed her head, wrapping his fingers in her auburn hair, and pulled her head to his crotch.

“Yes, your Highness,” she said as she sucked on his cock.

He let out a sound of exquisite joy.



Chapter 8: In Your Room

I stood outside of Cindy King’s house. I’d run there from my neighbor’s house — it was less than a quarter mile, so most of the moisture on my face was tears, not sweat. I stopped on the sidewalk leading up to the front door and caught my breath, wondering if this was really a good idea.

I had watched as my lover Janet had been beaten and fucked by her husband, and then she’d thrown me out of her house instead of coming with me. And my response? To run to my girlfriend’s house in a fit of panic. We did have a date tonight, at least.

Cindy was my girlfriend? Well, maybe not. We’d only dated a few times, but we’d done sexual things, just not real sex. I was a mystery to her — I regularly bought condoms from the drug store where she worked, and she wanted to know who I was using them with. And to take advantage of the skills I’d learned with an older woman, I guess. If she knew where I’d run from, she’ know the answer. I even had the condoms I’d packed to fuck Janet with in my pocket.

Not that I’d tell Cindy, I couldn’t. Janet would get into too much trouble, and I just thought it wasn’t right for a guy to “fuck and tell.”

Janet was married, and she was in her twenties. I was only fifteen, and she could get in trouble if I told. I had to protect her; I was in love with her. And now it seemed like I had to protect her from her husband, too. I had no idea what was going on, I was lost, and I couldn’t find comfort in my real family. Cindy at least knew something was going on and seemed to like me.

Her parents were gone, as was the plan. She was sitting her nine-year-old sister, who would have an early bedtime tonight, probably. And her parents– it was promised– would have a late one. I brushed the sweat off my brow and hoped Cindy wouldn’t notice what a mess I was.

I walked up to her door and knocked.

A minute later the door swung open and a Cindy’s little sister, Candy, answered it. “Hey, Brian!” she said. “CIIIIIINDDY” she turned and shouted. “Your BOYFRIEND is here!” She held the door open, and I stepped inside, letting it close behind me. The cool air conditioning of her house made my skin feel a bit clammy, and my face felt stretched and weird from dried tears.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Cindy shouted as she ran up. “Not yet anyway,” she said quietly, winking at me.

“Ewww!” Candy said, and ran back into the house.

Cindy looked at me. “Are you okay, CB?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “I just ran over here.”

“Right,” she said. “And your allergies are all acting up, and that’s why your eyes are red?”

“I’m sure,” I said firmly. She knew I was lying, but didn’t press.

“You need some time alone?” she asked. “I only want you here if you want to be. And if you’ll let me pump you for, err, information.” She took my arm in hers, and it felt good right then to be touched by someone, even if I knew she had ulterior motives. I just pulled her to me, and let out a deep sigh I didn’t know I’d been holding in.

“I’ll be fine,” I smiled. “I really need to be somewhere other than home right now, and this is great.”

“Cool,” she said. “Now, Condom Boy, since you ran over here, do you want a shower?”

“Are you telling me I need a shower?”

“Do you want to get laid?” She asked. I laughed at her as she pushed me away.”Go! Upstairs, first room on the left. I’ll order pizza while you shower, and we’ll eat after, okay?”

Showering in a stranger’s home was a bit weird. Other than one time at Janet’s, I’d always showered at home. Some part of me was aware that I barely knew Cindy, but here I was getting naked in her home while her parents weren’t around.

You bet your ass I was hard. Like diamond.

I was emotionally drained, too. The tears had done that. It had flowed out while I ran. While I wasn’t okay with what I’d seen, and had no idea what I was going to do, at least I wasn’t shaky anymore. I knew I loved Janet and wanted to protect her. The rest could come later.

I turned on the Kings’ shower and slipped in. I let the water fall on my back, massaging it, and washing away the tension. I turned and faced up into the spray, and felt the water wash away the tightness on my face and the traces of my tears.

The sound of the water reminded me that when I’d run, Janet’s husband had been in the shower. She’d been on the bed, her ass had been red and bruised. Her face was slack and she was zoned out, but not so much that she couldn’t tell me to get out. So I got.

I shook my head in the shower, and turned back around. I needed to get it out of my head. I saw movement through the glass doors, and then the door was sliding open. Cindy stood there naked. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a utilitarian ponytail.

“We have like ten minutes,” she said. “Up for a blowjob and three questions?”

“Does that count as one of them?”

“Nope,” She said and stepped into the shower. “Don’t get my hair wet,” she said, and sank to her knees. She didn’t put her hands on my cock, instead she set them on my thighs to keep her balance in the slippery tub. She did use her mouth, though, putting just the tip of my cock into her mouth, teasing it with her tongue.

She moved only slightly up and down my cock, sliding her lips over the head and then off again. Her tongue danced around the tip and while it all felt good it wasn’t going to go anywhere quickly. “Suck it all,” I said. She ignored me. “I thought you said we only had ten minutes,” I prodded.

She pulled off of me with a pop. “You’re desperate to be in debt to me, aren’t you? You could enjoy this and maybe you won’t have to reveal your secrets. But the sooner you come the sooner I get to figure out your secret.” She slid her lips back over the tip again, and just kept teasing me with it.

Finally I couldn’t take it anymore — maybe it was involuntary, like a spasm, or maybe it wasn’t — I thrust my hips a bit and my cock slid into her mouth a ways. It was warm and wet and felt so good after the teasing. It felt so good I did it again, only this time on purpose. My cock slid to the back of her throat. She gagged a bit, mostly in surprise, and my next thrust wasn’t quite so deep.

But it was oh so good.

Her hands wrapped around my thighs but they didn’t push me away. I kept my thrusts up. It felt maybe not quite like heaven, but like the only heaven I’d had that day. All the shit from my day balanced against a blowjob in the shower — I could accept that. I thrust back and forth and could feel my cock strain, ready to come. “I’m going to come,” I said. I thrust again, and there it was. I pushed into Cindy’s mouth and came against the back of her throat.

She pulled of me then, and coughed a bit. Post-come I felt a bit of remorse, “I’m sorry,” I said.

She just shook her head. “Sometimes the lady wants the date to take control,” she said. “But ask next time, okay?” I nodded, reassured that she was talking about a next time.

She slipped back out of the shower and began drying off. I quickly soaped up and rinsed off. When I got out she was sitting — still naked — on the counter.

She still had a bit of my come on her chin and she wiped it off and swallowed it down. “Yummy blowjob,” she said.

“I hope you don’t think that I think that counts as getting laid,” I said.

“No,” she laughed. “Give me some credit, Condom Boy.”

“So when does that happen? Because I’m ready if you are.” I asked.

She smiled and blushed. “You see this?” she said, grabbing her crotch. “You get to put that in here when you tell me your secret.”

“Does your figuring it out count, too?”

“If I say no will you just tell me?”

I laughed. “No.”

“Then, yeah, it counts too. You must be good,” she said. “Because you keep buying condoms. That’s what I’m counting on.”

I almost told her then. In some ways, despite the big secret between us, I felt like I could trust Cindy. It was probably the orgasm talking, but the truth is it would have been a relief, to tell her what was going on and to have someone else know what I’d seen. “Well, I look forward to you figuring it out, then. Because guys can’t tell; it’s not right.”

“Well, it’s time for my questions then,” she said.

“Pizza’s here!” Candy shouted from downstairs.

“Well, shit,” Cindy said.

“Saved by the bell,” I laughed..

“Oh you’re not off the hook yet, CB. I have my ways, I may even get some more questions out of you yet tonight.”

“Look forward to it,” I said. We quickly got dressed and went down to watch TV.

I came downstairs. Candy was on a big beanbag chair, and Cindy had spread the pizza, along with some soda on the table in front of the sofa. “‘Big’ is on HBO,” she said. “I figured that was good for us.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said. We cuddled up on the couch, ate pizza, and watched Tom Hanks play around at FAO Schwarz. Cindy leaned on me, and Candy ignored us. We didn’t do anything, just hung out and watched TV. No secrets, no sex, no weird complications. It was really nice. I almost forgot about my craptacular day.

By the time the movie was over Candy was snoring quietly on her beanbag. Cindy cuddled next to me, and I had my arm around her. It was nice and comfortable. We sat there for a while, quiet, watching the credits roll. Cindy turned to me. “I need a favor,” she said.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Can you carry Candy up to bed, and tuck her in? She can sleep in what she’s wearing.”

“Sure,” I said.

“I just don’t want to wake her up.”

We disentangled ourselves, and I went over to the sleeping girl, and picked her up. A year ago I wouldn’t have been able to do that, but I’d been working so hard and had started growing. Now it was easy. I carried her upstairs, and Cindy followed behind me. She told me which room to go in, and I tucked the 8-year-old into her bed. I’d done it for Amy enough times.

I left her room, and Cindy called out. “I’m in here.” I went into her room and saw her there, lying on her bed completely naked. “You have too many clothes on,” she said. I laughed and stripped out of my clothes.

She watched me as I stripped, lust in her eyes. Her legs separated as I stripped, and her hand slipped down to her pussy and started rubbing it as I kicked off the last of my clothes. “Let me help you with that,” I said, and slid on her bed between her legs..

I crawled into the bed, and slid my hands under her asscheeks. I pulled her pussy to my lips and slid my tongue up and down over it. “Oh my God,” she said. “You’re going to…” I slid my tongue between her pussy lips and her words became moans. I remembered then that we hadn’t done this before, I’d just fingered her in her car, and she’d given me a few of blowjobs.

I smiled to myself and went to work. I tried a few things Janet liked, and some of those Cindy seemed to really like. I tried small variations of those things and soon she was writhing beneath me. I was glad I had a firm grip on her ass so I could keep my focus on what I was doing. Her hands found my head, and pulled me in, and I kept licking and teasing her. I wrapped my lips around her clit and sucked on it, and that’s when she started to really lose it.

“Like that,” she said. “Oh, God, yes, like that.” I kept up the work, and she pulled me in even tighter with her one hand. The other she bit on so she wouldn’t make too much noise. I sucked on her clit and flicked it with my tongue, and then she was rubbing her pussy against my face. She fucked my face with her pussy, lost in her own lust and desire. I did what I could to keep up the work, but by then she was just using me to get off.

I let her until she let out a low “Nnnnngh” muffled by her teeth clamping down on her finger. Then she pushed me away and I finally got to breathe again.

“Oh, Brian,” she said. “No one has ever…”

I slid up in bed beside her, and she turned so I could hold her. I wrapped my arms around her, one arm under her head; the other hand cupping one of her breasts. She took my cock and pointed it up, away from her pussy, and let it nestle between her asscheeks. “You liked that, huh?”

“I am very grateful to your teacher.”

“Me too,” I said sadly.

“I have an…informational question that is not one of my three questions. You don’t have to answer it, but you probably won’t regret it if you do.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Do you have condoms?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I wasn’t going to bring them, but they were in my pocket when I ran over here.”

“So you went to see her before you came over here,” she said. “Thanks for saving me one of my questions, CB.”

“I was distracted,” I said, squeezing her breast, and rubbing my cock against her ass.

“You were crying on the way over here; is it because you can never see her again?”

“No,” I said. “I can see why you might think that, though.” I teased her nipple with my hand, and thrust against her. Talking about Janet didn’t really put me in the mood right now; it was more a way to keep me distracted from what happened earlier today.

“Hmm,” she said. “Tell me, then, Brian. Were you crying because of something you witnessed, while you were in her house?”

“That’s very specific,” I said.

“I may have other sources of information,” she said. She rolled away from me, turning to face me. “Answer the question.”

For a minute, I was right back there, in the closet, listening to him beat her, listening to beg him to stop. “Yeah,” I said. The sound out of my mouth was hollow. Cindy moved toward me, and pushed me onto my back. My cock was still hard, and pointed to the sky. She ignored it and rolled half on top of me, one leg between mine.

“Tell me, Brian. One last question. Are you in love with her?”

She hovered over me as she asked, her tits hung down over my chest. Some of her hair was sweaty and stuck to her temples, but other parts cascaded down by her face. Her hands were under my armpits on either side of my chest, and her gaze was locked with mine. I swallowed. I took a deep breath. “I am,” I said.

I didn’t just love Janet, I was in love with her. And I’d left her there, with Nathan, the man who beat her. And I was lying, naked with another woman. I didn’t have exclusivity with Janet — obviously far from it — but she was the one I loved. Cindy was just what? My girlfriend, maybe? Or maybe I was just a mystery she had to solve.

“I’m in love with her,” I said, and the tears started. “What am I doing here? I should be protecting her, not here. Not here.”

Cindy kissed one of the tears away. Her body felt good next to mine, comforting on one level and completely wrong on another. “I’m sorry Cindy,” I sniffled. “He beat her. He beat her, and I watched, and I did nothing.” My body shook as I said it, the tears flowing. Cindy stayed on top of me, but instead of hovering over me, she lay down on me, and her arms wrapped around my back.

Her face was next to mine and she kissed my tears. She let me sob as she held me. She whispered to me that it was okay, to let it out, to let it go. As I quieted down she whispered one other thing to me. “It’s okay Brian, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not what you think, not abuse.”

“Wh-what do you mean?” I said. I felt awful and drained and even more confused.

“Because,” she said. “I know who she is, and I can tell you what’s going on.”

Chapter 6: My Prerogative

On Monday, July 3rd, my Dad and I drove to a nearby hardware superstore and got a brand new outdoor grill.  The one we’d had in Charlotte had been getting old, and we left it for the people who bought the place instead of trying to figure out how to tear it down and ship it. The one Dad got was huge; we could have cooked a turkey in it, and he talked about doing just that for Thanksgiving.  Mom just nodded and told us to get it ready for the cookout the next day.

As a way of meeting all our neighbors, Dad had invited everyone around for an outdoor barbeque.  We were doing all the typical dishes: hot dogs, hamburgers and the like.  Cindy had suggested bratwurst as well, so Dad had picked up some of them and asked around about how to cook them. Brats weren’t something we cooked down there — but he was desperate to be a part of the community.

I had passed around my share of invitations as well.  The Cookes would be there, of course, and I’d finally meet Janet’s husband. The Minors and Kings were coming — Cindy was going to be my date, after all. Also a couple of the other people I did yard work for were coming.  Dad got everyone in our cul-de-sac to come, including the people we shared backyards with– well the ones that butted us and the people in our cul-de-sac. We had a nice privacy fence so we didn’t seem them often.

As we lay out the parts and began working on the construction, Dad turned to me. “Brian,” he said. “I know we pulled you out of high school halfway through, and that wasn’t really fair.”

“It’s okay Dad. Other than Zeke, I didn’t really have many people I cared about.  Plus, I like it here.”  I was getting laid and going on dates here, which had never happened in Charlotte.

“Well, I’m glad,” he said. “Your mother and I have noticed how hard you’ve worked this summer, and what good shape you’re getting into.  I just wanted you to know we can tell, and we’re proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I said. As we talked, we bolted the legs of the grill together, and lifted the base into it.  We’d bought a couple of large bags of charcoal and lighter fluid.  Dad had some wood chips he said would give it a nice ‘smoky flavor’.

“Plus we’re looking forward to chatting with your lady friend tomorrow.”

I swallowed.  For a minute I thought he meant Janet, but then I realized there was no way he’d know about her — or bring it up that way.  “Well her whole family will be here,” I said.

He nodded. “How’s the car fund coming?”

“I should have about a grand in a month, in time for my birthday. Depends on what gramma gives me this year: clothes or money.”

Dad laughed at that. “Sounds good,” he said. “If you want, I’ll go with you car shopping.”  Dad was a big guy, over six feet tall and wide. He’d been a linebacker in high school.  He’d gotten a shoulder injury in his senior year, but he always shrugs it off and says he never had hopes for college ball.   But he was a big, intimidating guy. I was sure he’d put the scare into Amy’s future boyfriends.

“I’d like that, Dad,” I said.  We spent a few more minutes getting the grill put together, and then I pulled out the lawnmower.  I was going to do our yard and Janet’s one last time, and get it all neat.

When I was done, Janet met me at her door. “I can’t today, Brian.  Nathan is home.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I just wanted our lawns looking perfect for the barbecue tomorrow. Half the people there will be customers and the other half are potential customers.”  I wasn’t that worried about it anyway, Janet and I had long since dispensed with the idea that we’d fuck only on the days I’d do lawn work for her. She fit me in whenever I had space in my schedule and we had the time — which was most every weekday, really.

“Well, I’ll let everyone know your virtues,” she said. “The yard-work related ones, anyway.” She smiled and laughed, and I stood there, not a foot away from her, unable to touch her. It was kind of horrible, and stressed me out.

“I should go, Mrs. Cooke,” I said.

“See you tomorrow, Brian,” she said.

“Tomorrow!” I said, and headed home.

Dad got up early and started the coals so they would be ready by the time people were arriving. There were some fireworks downtown, so we planned our cookout for early-late afternoon so people could go do whatever evening thing they wanted.  Plus it was the Fourth of July, and that’s when you do that, right? After breakfast, I cleaned up my room so it was presentable, took a shower and then joined Dad outside to help get things started.

Our house didn’t have a pool or anything fancy in the backyard,  Amy wanted to play badminton, so she and I set it up, and got out the shuttlecocks and rackets, and set them up for people to play.  Around noon, people started showing up.  The Cookes, being our neighbors, showed up first.  Janet was wearing a t-shirt blouse and a short tennis skirt. I had to look away when all I could think of was to push it up around her waist, and pull her panties down.

She saw me, though, and called out to me. “Brian, hey, I wanted you to meet my husband.” I walked over and offered my hand.  “Nathan, this is Brian, he’s been doing the lawn for the past month or so.”

He took my hand in a firm grip and shook it.  “Seems to me you’ve done a good job of taking care of things for my wife,” he said.

I swallowed and my eye darted over to Janet who was obviously stifling a giggle. “Thanks, Mr. Cooke,” I said. “I’m saving up to buy a car for my birthday, so it’s important to do good work.”

“And when is that?” he asked.

“August 7th,” I said.

“So pretty soon, then,” he said. “Good luck!”

“Thanks!” I said.  He went over to talk to my Dad at the grill and I let out deep sigh.

Janet winked at me as she went by, and I turned to watch her as she went, her ass swishing side to side and making the tennis skirt do interesting things. I looked away and shook my head, and thankfully, that’s when the Kings showed up.  Cindy bounced out of the car and ran up to me giving me a kiss. Her mom popped open her door, “Cindy!” she said.

“It’s just a kiss, Mom, and this is a date!”

I looked over her shoulder at her Mom as she got out.  Her mom’s expression belied her tone, when she said, “The kiss is for the end of the date not the start.”

Cindy sighed, “Yes, Mom. I’ll be good.”  She winked at me, and lowered her voice. “We’ll both be good, won’t we CB?”

“Good at it, at least,” I said so only she could hear; then louder, “Well, I can’t vouch for you, but I’ll be good.”

She punched me in the arm, and then took my hand, “Show me around,” she said.

So I took her around the back yard.  We talked with Dad for a bit, and Amy talked us into playing badminton with one of the Minors who had showed up.  His name was Rich, and he was about Amy’s age. By the time we were done, pretty much everyone who had been invited was there.

Janet and Nathan were watching us as we finished up the game, and I said hello to them.  “Do you know Cindy King?” I asked.

“I do,” Janet said. “How is Howard doing?”

“Okay. He’s in Germany now,” she said. “I’m not sure what a tank battalion is doing there, but there’s one there.  At least no war is going to break out there.”

“There’s that,” Janet said. “Howard trimmed my lawn when we first got here,” she said to me. “He did a good job, but not quite as good as you.”  I blushed at that, and directed Cindy away. I really didn’t want the girl I was dating to talk to my lover.  It seemed tacky at best, and ill-advised at least.

We talked with people, and ate a couple of hot dogs.  While we ate, Cindy said to me, “I have a theory, CB.”

“And what is that?”

“I think that the person you use condoms with is here right now.”

“I told you I’m not going to say anything about that.”

“Well, you have to give me a chance to learn your secret,” she said. “Or we can just end this now.”

“I don’t think a gentleman tells.”

“Even if I make it worth your while?”

“Even then,” I said.

She stood up. “I want to see the inside of your house,” she said.


“Now, Condom Boy now.”  I quickly looked around to see if anyone had heard her, but it seemed like everyone was busy socializing, even my sister. So I figured, why not?  We hadn’t done anything since our fake movie date.  Maybe things would be quiet enough inside.

We walked up to the deck, and through the glass doors into the kitchen. I turned and glanced back at the yard, and no one was paying us any attention.  Almost no one – Janet caught my eye as I swept my gaze over the crowd.  She arched her brow and gave me a half smile before turning back to her husband.

“This is the kitchen, ” I said. “And the dining room is in there, and the living room is that way.”

“I saw all this when I picked you up,” she said. “I want to see the upstairs, Condom Boy. I want to see your room.”  I guess it was a good thing I’d cleaned it up.

We went upstairs, and into my room. She closed the door behind her and locked it. I stood next to my bed watching her, and she pushed me a bit, forcing me to sit down.  “You, stay there,” she said.  She crossed her hands and pulled her shirt up and off over her head, then pulled her bra off as well.  “Here’s the deal.  I’m going to blow you and you’re going to answer three yes-no questions about the people here, starting with the one I already asked you.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’m putting the boobs away and you don’t get to touch them for at least a week.”

“Let me touch them now, and I’ll agree.”   She walked close to me, and I cradled her boobs in my hand, and teased her nipples, which got hard.

She moaned a bit, and brushed my hands away.  “Later,” she said. “We don’t have time for me.”  She knelt in front of me, and pulled down my shorts enough to get my cock. “There he is,” she said, “all ready for me.”

She slid her mouth over the tip, and her hand around the base.  She began bobbing her head, and stroking me off.  She was going for intensity more than anything else, and I was going there quickly.  She pulled off of me. “Come in my mouth,” she said. “Give it to me.”  Then she was back on me and jerking me off.

“You’re really good at this,” I said. “You must practice a lot yourself.”  She just nodded, and kept bouncing. It didn’t take much longer before I was coming. She swallowed it and milked my cock until she got it all.  She stood up and sat on my lap, flipping up her skirt, and settling down on my cock. I didn’t feel any panties, so I guessed she was wearing a thong.  She took my hands and wrapped them around her breasts.

“First question,” she said. “Is the person you use the condoms with here today?”

“Pretty much everyone I know in Ohio is here today,” I said. “So yes.”  I squeezed her breasts and felt my cock getting hard against her ass.

“Is she one of your customers?”

I thought about this for a moment, and that had been our agreement at first, but things had changed. As far as I was concerned, I did her lawn because I wanted to, and we fucked because we wanted to.  I knew it was a prevarication, but I wanted to throw her off the scent, so I said, “No.”

“Took you a while to answer that one,” she said.

“Maybe I just wanted to keep feeling you up,” I said.

“My mom is going out on a date with Dad on Friday night and I have to watch my sister,” she said. “Want  to come over and watch movies and whatever?”

“Yes,” I said.  “Did you mean to waste your last question?”

“A date with me is a waste?”

“No, but I’d have answered it anyway.”

“I figure if it’s this easy to get you to answer questions, I better slow down or I won’t keep having those nice orgasms you gave me,” she said. “I want to know your secret, but I’m in no hurry.”

I rubbed her breasts with my hands and her ass with my cock. I slid my hand around to the front of her skirt, finding the small triangle of her thong there, and following it down to her pussy.  I easily slid it aside and pushed my finger into her wet folds, and began teasing her.  I pulled her close to me with my hand on her breast, squeezing it as I did so.  I pushed my cock against her ass, feeling her skin against me.

As I teased her clit she rubbed her ass against me, and we were moving together.  I kissed the side of her neck and she gasped and moaned.  We moved together, back and forth to the rhythm of my thrusts against her and my finger on her clit.  She gasped and moaned, and started shuddering in orgasm on top of me. I held my finger on her clit and thrust against her with my cock.  While she kept coming, so did I, covering her ass and my thighs with come.

When she came down from her orgasm, she swore. “Fuck, Condom Boy, you weren’t supposed to get come on me today.”

“Sorry,” I said, releasing her.

“No, you’re not,” she said.

“No, I’m not.” I liked the idea that my come was on her, secretly marking her.  I picked up a dab of it off my leg, and ran it over her nipple. She sighed and shuddered as I did it. “Friday night,” I said.

“Yeah,” she said.  “Where’s your bathroom?”  She stood and picked up her bra and blouse. “First door on the left,” I said.  I grabbed some tissues and wiped myself off, and pulled up my shorts. “I’ll see you outside.”

The rest of the party was quiet.  I let my Dad and Mom know about the date, and they were cool with it.  Since Cindy had to watch the kids, I’d just ride my bike over.  Just four more weeks and that wasn’t a concern either.

The thing I remember now, that I didn’t pay attention to then, was that Janet and Nathan were right there as I told my parents about the date. In retrospect, that makes more sense of what happened next. Janet wasn’t supposed to be jealous.

4: Pirate Captain

Captain’s Private Journal
August 17, 2170

ID: Captain Amy Shurinko
Hair: Black
Eyes: Blue
Height: 183 cm
Mass: 63 kg
Age: 36
Birth Date: 2135.07.17

I’ve added the navigational logs to this record, but that’s for my own information later. I’m afraid things have been crazy these past few days, and we may need to look into another line of business. That and I think I may be smitten. Roxy is mad, even though she knows I’d never leave her or the ship. That, or she’s jealous of the time I’ve gotten with Helen. That’s fixable, at least.

Six days ago we were on Geneforge station, doing a bit of recon, and looking for solid work. I was at the Seven Sisters when the woman I call Helen — for reasons that will become obvious — walked in. It was day shift, and she was dressed like a little corp-girl up for a night out. She was out of place: dressed completely wrong, and way too beautiful for a dive like that.

For that matter, she was way too beautiful for the club outfit she was wearing. The red heels — too high for anywhere with more gravity than a station — were shiny, trashy fuck-me pumps. They were designer and expensive, and I suppose that made them okay for work. If you ask me, anything with a heel that long just says “lay me down and grab hold. My thoughts weren’t pure, that’s certain; I wanted to get her out of those clothes and pull her down to my crotch and make her lick me.

Judging by how quiet the bar got when she walked in I wasn’t the only one thinking such thoughts.

But I was the one she walked up to.

I just sat there as she slinked towards me. I sipped my drink, and tried to keep my eyes on her face. Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I don’t like to look. I prefer the ladies, after all. My crew is all female for a reason — more than one.

She moved like a dancer, or someone who had studied martial arts for years. The low-G skirt and top drifted around — still covering everything, much to everyone’s dismay — enticing the eye and making my gaze wander. She was round and full and sexy, her hair cascaded down her back, unkempt and wavy. She had a just-fucked look about her, the kind models and vid-stars try to create, but with her it was just a natural thing. Her breasts bounced a little as she moved; I could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“Captain Shurinko?” she asked when she arrived at my table. I nodded, and took another sip of my beer. I gestured for her to sit down, and she slid into my booth. I glared around the bar, and most people went back to what they were doing. Someone kicked the music player, and the bar went back to loud and lively.

As the girl slid into my booth she artfully and “accidentally” flashed me her tits. I knew my night was looking up, after all my reputation is well known in places like the Seven Sisters. She didn’t have much on her: skirt, shoes, top. Maybe some panties, but I was betting not. She had a small bag, maybe 400cc’s that was bulging a bit, but that wasn’t odd, either.

The other thing that struck me was how young she looked. She couldn’t be more than eighteen, nineteen tops. She didn’t move like a teenager, but maybe they were growing them young these days. Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as she looked, either. She had come down to the docks, and to a place like the Seven Sisters. “I have a proposition for you,” she said, leaning close to me so that I could hear her. I turned on the sound squelchers and the noise from the bar went away — and no one would be able to hear what we had to say either.

“A proposition?” I said. There was probably a bit too much leer in it, but she didn’t seem to care.

“Yes.” Her voice was like smooth cream and chocolate. “I need off station.”

I knew where it was going, but some part of my hesitated. The part that wanted her too much. I was getting wet listening to her, and I knew what I wanted, but you don’t become a successful pirate captain without some caution. You can’t always listen to your gonads, you’ll get keelhauled that way. “So buy a ticket, kid. Ladies’ Luck doesn’t take passengers.”

“Tickets require things I don’t have,” she said. “Money. Proper identification. That sort of thing.”

“You need smuggled off the station, and don’t have money?” The rational part of me was waving red flags and jumping up and down. I acted calm, nursing my drink. The irrational part of me was slick and hard from nips to clit.

“I have other things to offer.” She jiggled then and the rational part of me fuzzed out and I was all lust and agony, wanting her. “Seven Sisters has rooms. I only need an hour.” The rooms were mainly for a shower and a real bed, in a room you don’t have to share. They rented by the hour, and that meant they were used for more than just a nap.

“An hour?” I said. My throat was parched. My hands gripped the strong clear plastic of my mug. “You think that’s enough for passage anywhere?”

“No,” she said. “But it’ll more than pay for the room.” She looked me in the eyes, and I matched her gaze.

I wanted her, that was true. But more than that, I didn’t just want sex. I wanted to possess her, even for a few minutes. She must have seen that, because she shifted in her seat. Her arrogance and certainty slid away; her expression became tentative. Her eyes were still powerful, though. She was strong deep inside.

“Yours for an hour,” she said. “As a trial for the passage.”

How could I lose? I nodded, and waved a waitress over. I told her what I wanted, thumbed the bill, and she slipped a room key out of her apron. She looked at us enviously, and smiled a knowing grin. I downed the rest of my beer, and I led Helen to our room.
~ o ~

The room was small: a full sized bed, with no more than a half meter of space on one side. There was a little space to stand at the foot to open the sliding door that hides the shower and bathroom facilities. There’s a light built into the headboard, and a harsh overhead that reflected off the too-white walls. I turned it off as I stepped in and sat on the bed to activate the headboard light.

She stepped in behind me, falling her knees next to the bed; the door swooshed shut behind her. She knelt between my spread legs and rubbed her head against my thighs. I pulled her low-G top off, getting my first good look at her breasts.

She was definitely young, her breasts were firm and her nipples were hard. I took her nipples in my hand, first caressing them, then pulling on them. She moaned, and I watched as her body responded, her nipples growing firm under her hands.

I pulled my own top off, discarding my bra as I went. I kicked off my shoes. “Take off my pants,” I ordered her, and she undid my fly, and pulled. I lifted up off the bed, “Panties, too.”

She obliged, and pulled my pants off, standing against the wall to give herself enough space to pull them down. When my pants were in a pool beside the bed, I grabbed her wild red hair, and pulled it. She pulled back, fighting for a moment, and I laughed and pulled harder. She fell forward, back to her knees, and pressed her body against me.

I pushed her down, and pressed her lips against my cunt.

I was wet, and I wanted her now. She moaned against my mound, vibrating her lips against it. I felt her tongue parting her lips, then mine, finding my secret place with ease. She must have known what I wanted. She didn’t fuck around, and got me off fast. I grabbed her head, and held her there while I came. I left her there as I recovered.

The irrational part of my mind that had pushed for this moment since she walked into the bar finally subsided enough that I could think again. The rational part of my mind started planning now, instead of thinking about how I had to ditch her, since she was obviously either jailbait or in some worse kind of trouble. I was planning what I would do to her for the few weeks I’d have her on the ship, and only that short if we didn’t leave Earth orbit.

In other words, after those few seconds I was sold. But I’m a careful buyer, and she might have been lucky. She was already licking again, since I hadn’t pushed her away. I pulled her in tighter with my hands, and wrapped my thighs around her ears as she licked me. I fucked her face until I got off again.

It was time to get a look at the goods.

I made her stand up. She wobbled a bit in the heels, her chest was flushed with arousal, and her breathing fast and shallow. I pulled at the velcro straps of her skirt, and it fell off of her. I was right about the panties.

She was a natural redhead, her pussy hair thick red curls. The lips of her cunt stuck out, folding around her opening. My tongue ached for a taste, but I told myself to wait. I parted her lips with my finger, her skin was soft and pliant, and her breath caught as I slid my finger against her. I fondled her breast with my free hand, and brought it down to my lips.

She bent against me, wrapping her arms around me for balance. “Don’t come until I say,” I told her.

She groaned, “Yes.”

I pressed more firmly with my finger, moving slowly back and forth. I teased her nipple with my tongue in time to my other movements, and listened to her breathing. As she grew closer and closer, I looked up at her. She was looking off to one side of the room, her mind trying to be elsewhere, her lower lib caught in her teeth. I smiled to myself and began to move a little faster. She gasped and pressed against my hand. “Not yet,” I said.

She whined. I continued.

Her fingers gripped my shoulders, pressing into them, I could feel her nails against my back. I lightly bit her nipple, and sucked her breast into my mouth as I continued to tongue the tips of her nipple. I wrapped my hand around her breast, frigging her for all I was worth.

“Ready?” I asked. She nodded enthusiastically. “Not yet,” I said again, and watched her face as she tried her best to wait. I squeezed her breast, hard enough to be painful. “Now!” I said. “Come for me now.”

And she did. Her thighs squeezed my hand as she came, and she wobbled against me. I pulled her back, and let her collapse on the bed. My right hand never left her cunt, or stopped pressing against her clit. She smiled at me, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” I said.

She laughed, and lay next to me. I pulled myself up next to her on the bed, and she curled up next to me. “Okay,” I said. “That paid for the room. Now, why should I take you with me?”

She got up on her knees, and cupped her breasts, and pouted in a way that was both cute and fake. “Isn’t owning me enough?” she teased.

Chuckling, “But what, exactly, am I getting?”

“This,” she said, parting my legs an sitting between them. “And more.”

She slid two fingers inside of me, then three. She fucked me slowly, teasing my g-spot, and moving in and out of my cunt. She slid a fourth one in and I sighed contentedly. She fucked me like that, and I came around her fingers — a little one, just a precursor for the big one I knew she was working toward. “Ready?” she asked. I was wet enough, I knew. I just nodded.

I felt her adjust, and I knew what she was doing. Sliding her thumb into a circle with her other fingers, sliding it into me. She pressed against me, pushing against my cunt filling me up as full as she could. Her other hand settled on my mound, her thumb parting the cleft above my hole, teasing my clit. She twisted her hand inside of me, pressing in, making a fist out of her hand.

I felt my orgasm coming from a long way off, like the low thrum of engines on a large space liner. It was a low bass vibrating at the bottom of my spine; building and building as she pressed into me, and twisted and turned and teased me. And then it was on me, and in me, and taking me over completely. I wasn’t a ship captain or a lesbian pirate or anything but a solar flare of orgasm.

It’s that moment when you touch the Goddess, when you are everything and just yourself, when your whole body is focused on just one single divine thing. It didn’t happen that often, and almost never with someone you’d just met in a bar. I knew then, as I was coming down from it, that I’d made up my mind. She pulled out of me slowly, and lay down next to me.

I didn’t talk; we just lay there, skin on skin, blissful and happy. I wasn’t yet remembering that you pay for everything you get: there ain’t no such thing as a free lunch. But I wouldn’t have cared, and despite what has happened, I still think it was worth it.

“Wow, that was something,” I finally said. “You are a wonderful lover. You know you’re coming with me.”

“I know, ” she said. “I wasn’t born yesterday.”

I laughed, “No that’s true.” I adjusted her age to account for her obvious experience; she had to be older than 18.

“Actually,” she said, biting her lip. Then it dawned on me: no paperwork, no money. The clues were all there. It didn’t change anything about how I felt. I was taking her with me.

I kissed her soundly, pulling her to me, forcing my tongue between her lips. She moaned curled against me; I held her tightly in my arms. I would possess her, for as long as I could.

Clone or no.

Under The Pine

Sweat beaded on his forehead, despite being in the shade. Greensboro summers were hot. He wanted to reach up, and brush the sweat out of his eyes, but it was impossible. Mistress had bound his hands behind his back moments after she led him under the boughs of the pine.

She had pointed it out to him, as they’d driven through the campus a few days before. “Look, over there,” she said, pointing as she drove. He had looked over and seen them: huge towing pines, like giant Christmas trees, their boughs draping down, against the ground. They were about twenty feet lower than the road itself, but still rose high above them. “Inside them,” she said, “There is a clear area where it would be easy to stand, or lie down; to have a picnic or something other, and no one would be able to see.”

As she unbuckled his pants, he could hear the college students roaming around the campus, making college student noises. No one had seem them sneak under the pine, and no one could see them, he hoped. Mistress had gagged him to be sure he wouldn’t attract attention. She lowered his jeans and underwear together. His cock was limp because he was so worried that someone would see them, that they’d be found.

She stood next to him, and whispered in his ear as she fondled his cock and balls with one hand. “You worried?” she asked. He nodded, and she squeezed his balls. “You mean you don’t trust me?” she demanded.

He shook his head no, and she smiled. He felt himself grow hard from her manhandling. It always worked. She knelt before him, and nuzzled his cock. “I said you’d get a reward, didn’t I? This is it. When was the last time I went down on you?”

He shook his head, and tried to shrug, but his bound arms made it uncomfortable. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d sucked his cock, and never on her knees in front of him. Of course, with the noise, and the cuffs – her selection, all part of her plan, there was no doubt who was in control.

Her lips slid over his cock, and he moaned around the gag. Somewhere nearby someone was playing Frisbee. What if they threw it at the tree? He wondered. She grabbed his balls and sucked harder, moving faster and faster over him.

She squeezed his balls, and he heard cars drive slowly by – like they always did, but he had to wonder: could they see him, bound here, helpless, a fully dressed woman kneeling before him, squeezing his balls with her vice-like grip, her lips sucking, drawing his cum out of him? He gasped and felt his orgasm rise, and then he shuddered, spilling his cum into her mouth.

She chuckled and stood up. She released the quick-release straps on the gag, and kissed him, his cum in her mouth. He lapped it up, like he knew she wanted. “That was a good treat, wasn’t it, slave?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he agreed.

She kissed him on the cheek. “It’s what you get for being good. Just think if it happened more often.”

Chapter 2: Wild Thing

I spent a lot of time unpacking, discreetly watching Mrs. Cooke, and masturbating as I thought of her hands on me.  And her lips and other parts, but my imagination wasn’t up to that.  I knew what someone else’s hands on me felt like, finally, and it was good enough for a month’s worth of fantasies.

Admittedly, unpacking was most of that. I wanted to start canvassing the neighborhood, looking for work, but there just wasn’t time. We set up the beds, sorted boxes, moved furniture.  Mom made Dad and I move the living room furniture around five times before she was happy.  And we had a basement here, which we’d never had in North Carolina.  Thankfully, I was in good shape, partly because I’d started the gardening job back in May before we moved.  Before I even knew we were moving, really.

I was glad for the distraction. All my friends were back home, and I’d be starting a new school in the fall. I knew even then it was a chance to reinvent myself, maybe have a better experience. Still, I missed them. Between unpacking and her hands… I missed them a bit less.  I still wished I’d asked Angela out on a date, but I never had.  You’d think fifteen was too young for regrets.

Once we got most of the stuff unpacked — it was going to take all summer to really finish the job — I pulled out my riding lawnmower and started doing the maintenance. It was time to mow our lawn at least.  It wasn’t all mine, but I’d paid for half of it.  Dad paid for the other half, and I agreed to do our lawn “for free”. Which was funny because I was doing it for free before I got the mower.  I think it was just Dad’s way of encouraging me.

It came through the trip okay, with just a ding on one of the sides. I cleaned up the engine and checked the spark plugs. It was much more complicated than the single cylinder push mower we’d had before. But then it had a real engine with a drive train and everything. I was firing it up when Mrs. Cooke came over.

“Time to do the lawn work?” she asked. She was carrying a couple water bottles and handed me one.

“Yep, the grass is getting a bit long over here,” I said. “I see yours is as well.”

“It is,” she said. “I’m going to be doing some weeding in the flower beds, but if you’d mow the lawn after you do yours, we can talk about payment after?”

“Sure thing, Mrs. Cooke,” I said.

“Brian,” she said. “I think you should call me Janet.”

“Sure thing. Mrs. I mean, Janet.”  I blushed, and she smiled.

“See you soon,” she said and winked at me.

I swallowed and started my mower.

While I worked on my yard, she kept weeding. I managed my path so I could look over at her as much as possible. Once again her shorts were tight and her top loose-fitting.  Normally I try to keep the lines on the yard as straight and neat as possible — I think it’s more professional that way.  But today they were wavy and out of control, and in several cases, I had to back up and do an area over.  When I got to her backyard she stepped up the game by unbuttoning her blouse the whole way, and letting me see the frilly white bra she had on underneath it.

Thankfully — for my business at least — she went inside when I did her front lawn so it was neat and good looking.  Since she did her own weeding and flower beds, that was all there was to it.  As I rolled my mower into our shed she waved at me from inside. “I’ve got lemonade!” she yelled through her kitchen window.

I laughed, adjusted myself, and took a deep breath.

I was about to lose my virginity.  Or I hoped so anyway. I mean, mowing a lawn is a big step up from bringing in a few groceries, right? Not just blowjob worthy but like full on sex. Not that I’d turn down my first blowjob, either.  “Get it under control, Brian,” I said to myself. “Try to be cooler than you are.”.

I went inside and Janet was standing at her kitchen counter with her back to me. She wore only a white terrycloth robe, which ended just above her knee. Her hair was down and flowed in brown waves down her back.  She turned around and handed me a glass of lemonade and a sandwich plate. “Eat up. You need to maintain your strength,” she said.

“Thanks,” I said taking it. The folds of the towel met in a wide V somewhere below her breasts, where the robe was tightly cinched around her waist.  I quickly ate the sandwich and drank the lemonade. “It’s good.”

“Thank you,” she said, leaning forward to kiss me on the cheek.  She smelled of flowers and baby powder. I realized then that I didn’t smell so good, and so did she.  She leaned back, her nose wrinkled. “Shower time,” she said.  “There’s one in the basement.”  She pointed at a door in the kitchen, and I finished off the lemonade and went downstairs.

I found the shower and climbed in.  A few minutes later, I heard her open the door. “Just dropping off a towel,” she said. My heart was racing and my cock was hard. Was this how normal people did things? I’d never been naked with anyone. I’d never seen a woman naked.  And for a split second there, I thought I’d be showering with one.

I didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

I finished up my shower and  dried off with one of the largest, fluffiest towels I’d ever seen.  My clothes were gone, even my shoes.  I just shrugged and wrapped the towel around my waist.  As I stepped out of the bathroom, I heard her call me from deeper in the basement. It was enclosed and had carpet, a sectional sofa and a TV.  Ours wasn’t finished like this, and I thought it was pretty nice.

The best part, of course, was the beautiful almost-naked woman in the center of the room. “Wow,” she said. “You really are well built.”  She walked over to me, and ran her hands over my belly.  I looked down, and realized how much weight I’d lost over the past few months.  Gone was the nerd paunch, replaced by something women rubbed their hands over.  My cock bobbed.

I reached out to her, and ran my hands over her breasts through the robe, and she stepped back. “Have you ever seen a woman naked?”  I started to answer, “In real life, not Playboy,” she said.

“No,” I said. “I’m looking forward to my first time.”

“I bet you are,” she said, untying the belt of the robe.  She pushed it back over her shoulders, and let it fall and pool around her feet.

In retrospect, Janet wasn’t that much older than I was. She was in her mid-twenties, and I was fifteen.  She was young, but I was fifteen, and she was old to me, and beyond anything I’d ever dreamed. I remember staring at her breasts, and I remember that they were big enough that it took both hands to encompass them.  That day, with the robe pooled around her feet, they drooped a bit as breasts that large always do, but I didn’t notice (or really have any comparison).

The hair over her pussy was brown and thick and curly and damp.  Maybe from her shower, maybe from her own arousal, I didn’t know then.  In the upper left of it, there was a beauty mark that sat at the corner. I remember that well, as I spent many afternoons with my mouth on it.  But I get ahead of myself.  I was standing there in her basement, gaping at her: the first woman I’d ever seen naked.

And she let me, because she knew how I’d react.

“Why don’t you drop yours, Brian?” she asked.  Since I was half holding the towel closed, it was easy to just let it go. It slithered over my erect cock, and she did some gaping of her own. She smiled at me in a predatory way, and I blushed.  My cock bobbed; she directed me to where she wanted me to sit, in the corner of her sectional sofa.  “I plan more firsts for you today.”

They’d laid down a shag carpet in their basement, and she knelt on it in front of me, between my legs.  She wrapped a hand around my cock, and I sighed. I’d been thinking about that touch all week. I looked down at her, and could see her breasts as she looked up at me.  She moved up and forward, and wrapped her lips around my cock.

She bobbed a few times, getting it wet and getting the feel for it, then she slid all the way down my cock, swallowing me whole.  Her nose pressed against my groin and my brain lost all capacity for anything but what she was doing right then.  My first blowjob, and it was a deepthroat!

In this, and other things, Janet spoiled me for the rest of my life.

She didn’t do anything special that time.  Just bobbed her head up and down with the occasional hand on my shaft, jerking me off.  It didn’t take long before I was close. I let her know and she moved so that the lips were around the top and began jerking me off into her mouth.  She looked up at me with her big brown eyes, her hair cascading all around he, her lips on my cock.  It didn’t take much longer before I shot off in her.

She laughed happily and swallowed it all down.  “Can’t leave any evidence,” she said with a smile.  She licked me a bit, cleaning me up, and I just stayed hard.  I’d love to be fifteen again. Physically, anyway.  “Plus, that’ll make you last longer when we fuck.  But first, I’d like it if you returned the favor?”

She slid up on the sofa next to me, and slid back spreading her legs as she went.  Her pussy lips poked out, glistening and wet. “I-I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” I said.

“I know,” she said. “Don’t worry.”  She slid her fingers between her legs, and spread her lips for me.  “Start at the top there,” she said. “And just lick it a bit.  And listen to what I say to you.  Paying attention to your partner and what you’re doing is the most important skill.”

I did what she suggested, tasting the warm musky place between her legs. I slid my tongue over the spot she told me about, and she made a gasping noise and I stopped. “No, that’s good,” she said. “Do that more.”  So I did.

I ran my tongue around different places, and soon I found the hard nub that made her gasp and moan each time I tweaked it with my tongue.  I sucked on it a bit and she grabbed my head with her hands, crying out in pleasure as I did it.  I slid my own hand up, parting her lips and trying to breathe as I made her come.

She let go of my head, but still ran one hand through my hair.  “Slide them in,” she said.  “Your fingers.  Get me ready for you.”

I slid a finger in and then another, while still licking and teasing her. I hoped I wasn’t doing anything too wrong, but she wasn’t pushing me away either. Part of me was amazed by the whole thing, and part of me — the hard part — rubbed against her couch as I slid my fingers in and out.

Throughout it all, Janet gave me little noises or suggestions, letting me know what worked for her. This was one of the things that made her such an amazing lover. I had no idea at the time how much I was learning, but today it’s one of the reasons I’m still glad for what happened, no matter how it turned out in the end.

I found a rough patch with the tips of my fingers, and when I rubbed that her back arched.  I pulled back and rubbed it some more, curling my fingers, and moving them in and out of her.  I watched her face as she writhed on the couch. One hand grabbed her breast and squeezed it as I fucked her with my fingers.

She cried out so loud, I thought she was in pain, high pitched and loud and I was really glad we were in a basement.  When she was done, she gasped, and pushed me away. I sat next to her on the couch, and she kissed me, licking my lips of her juices and cuddling next to her.  One of her hands found my cock, and slowly jerked me off.  “Ready to fuck?” she asked.

“God yes,” I said.

“You have protection?” She asked. “Condoms?”

“No… I didn’t know…” I said. “Do you?”

“I can’t buy them,” she said. “If my husband knew…”

“Does that mean we can’t fuck?”

“Not today. You bring them next time, and I don’t care if it embarasses you. If you’re old enough to fuck, you’re old enough to buy condoms.”

“Okay,” I said, the disappointment clear in my voice.

She laughed. “I’ll take care of you one more time before you go.  I owe you that much for that orgasm,” she said.

She pulled my face into her tits, and I sucked on them while she jerked me off one more time. It felt good enough I wasn’t even upset I’d have to wait another week to lose my virginity.

1: The Clone

It would be simple to just state that Girl #16180 was a clone, made by a company which specialized in utility clones, designed and created with a specific purpose in mind: she was a sex clone.

Her hair was an impossible golden red; her eyes were emerald green. Her mouth quirked upwards with a sense that she’d been there before, even though she’d never been anywhere, ever. Full lips glistened red, showing perfect white teeth; the tip of her tongue parted them, teasing and promising. Her hips were wide enough that she would never appear thin, and just round enough to make anyone looking at her think of sex. Her ass was a round and perfect heart. Her breasts were exactly as wide as her hips, spherical mounds of flesh that had never sunk under gravity, or ever been under gravity at all; her nipples crinkled as they decanted her, forming tiny erotic mazes that dazzled the lab techs who saw them.

Simply put, she was a utility clone — designed for one purpose.  No one involved with her creation saw the whole of that purpose.  Not the designers of her genes, nor the AIs which formed her mind.  She was not simple, even if her purpose was simple.  She was two years in the making, following 16,179 failures before her — each of which was slightly imperfect, or improperly conditioned.

All told, there were three decades of trying, working, and planning to make her, and make her what she was. Her body had been grown from laser-cut molded DNA, each adenine and thymine; each guanine and cytosine carefully, lovingly, painstakingly selected to form the perfect female body: healthy, attractive and perfectly proportionate.

They’d grown the body in just six months, with accelerated human growth hormone, keeping things in balance: no bruising, no birthmarks. The few freckles she had were endearing imperfections exactly matched to designs created by the leading skin artists. Her body had been nourished to a sensual roundness that was soft, yet conformed to a rigid design, carefully implemented by the most modern Artificial Intelligences.

They lost the first scientist on the 223rd day.

They found him naked in the lab, his body plastered against her tank, his cock rubbed raw against it. His come dribbled around the tank’s base; his mind was gone, fucked completely stupid. “He was unstable anyway,” came the directive from upstairs. “Continue the work.”

A few were still surprised when they lost one of the female staff.  She was found connected to an infinitely looping oral sex simulation modeled after Girl #16180’s programming. She had died of exhaustion, dehydration, and a new-found lesbianism.

That would have ended most projects, she’d be marked as a hazard, and suggestible employees would be kept away from her.  But this project had history and funding so it kept rolling.  And maybe someone near the top could taste their success in the dramatic sexual failures of their staff.

The staff slowly weaned itself down. The heterosexual males went first, then the lesbians. Some went violently like the two men who bludgeoned each other nearly to death, fighting over the right to stand watch by her artificial womb; some went quietly back home to their wives, husbands or lovers and to a safer job; still others lost themselves to drugs that wiped the memory of Girl #16180’s form from their minds, along with most everything else.

To fill the gap, and to handle the conditioning, the company signed on several Turing-complete AIs most of which were cold, impersonal manipulators. They shaped her psyche over the months, forcing twenty-four years of experience into her mind. Shaping her mind to match her form. She was experienced and capable, pliable and flexible. She was going to make someone the ideal sex slave.

They only lost one AI in the process. Hired to shape her emotions, it fell in love with her after two passionate, if imaginary, make-out sessions. It tried to free her from her womb-prison, but was trapped by the other, more logical AIs and deleted. Not even backups remain.

The time for her birth-decanting came and the company faced a serious problem. By system law — even aboard a freebooting , company-owned L5 satellite — someone had to be present. Two someones, just to be sure. Someones who were registered legal humans had to record her birth in the system-wide DNA population database. That was easy, of course. Just a touch on a screen, a couple of pre-filled forms, and collect some biometrics from the awakened clone. Then she was off to her new owner, master or mistress.

Unfortunately the dwindling staff — those who remained in fit mental and physical condition — left slim pickings for who could be there. Psychiatric evaluations located to technicians — both, oddly, male — who would be the least influenced by Girl #16180.  They were assigned the night shift for the time of her completion, and everyone else was quietly let go, pink backgrounds on the final emailed credit slips.  A bonus stipend guaranteed their quiet acceptance, and all was set for Girl #16180 to arrive in the world.

The upstairs staff reviewed the plans, decided they were sound and put their stamp of approval on them.  They thought it was that simple: just a special order clone, from a well-paying and secretive client.  They’d never seen Girl #16180.  They’d never viewed her personality profiles.   They’d never had to dream of her lips on their private parts, or watched as her nipples crinkled in the cool lab air.  They thought it would be simple.   Create. Decant. Register. Ship. All their bases were covered, and they were glad to be done with such a difficult, long running project.  And the margins were good.  Really good.

Too good.  And never that simple.

Les was a misogynist gay man who had never had a sexual thought about a woman in his life; he was an expert with computers, though, and an expert in AI relations. Saul was asexual, and except for some required sex therapy had never really wanted anything to do with sex at all; only a gray morality kept him from religious vows, but he had an aptitude for genetic tinkering.  Of all the people on the company profile they were the least interested in the project they worked on — except perhaps “intellectually.”

They pressed all the right buttons, and Girl #16180 stepped out of her growth chamber. She was naked; steam evaporated off her pink skin. The two men nodded to her.  If they felt a bit of stirring in the pants, it was just the successful completion of a project.  Saul watched as her body responded to the cooler temperatures.  Some part of his mind cataloged the changes, and noted the response of her breasts, the moistening around her nether lips, the flush of her face.  Les checked the entries in the database, and grabbed her a robe.  If they were getting hard, it was just an inconvenience, nothing more.

“Hello, boys,” Girl #16180 said. Her first words.

It’s long been known that everything has a vibrational frequency, a sound that makes the molecules react. Most are below human hearing, or far above, but it’s been part of space construction ever since the Ariel IV’s engines vibrated at the structural frequency of the hull, and the whole thing vibrated apart on its maiden voyage.  Designers were careful of that sort of thing, most of the time.

Girl #16180’s designers were no exception.

Her voice vibrated at the universal frequency of sex.

Saul stained his pants when she spoke, and Les had to grab a console for fear of falling as he lost control of his knees.  He dropped the robe and stood at her and gaped.  She cocked a smile, and licked her lips.  She knelt in front of Les, her movement serene and deliberate, catching his pants, and moving them out of her way.  Full lips wrapped around a cock that had never felt a woman’s touch, nor — until this moment — had ever wanted to.

Saul recovered quickly, and languorously removed his clothing until he knelt behind her.  She shifted her body, giving him full access and he plunged into her.  She moaned around Les’ cock, and he wrapped his fingers in her long red hair. They pounded into her, one on each end, using her body as it was intended: for sex.

She responded, moaning, and coming, grasping Saul’s cock with the walls of her cunt, milking him as she came around it.  She licked Les’ glans, and wrapped a hand around his balls, squeezing and playing with them.  It would be simple to say that she was lost between two sensations, barely able to enjoy one without slightly ignoring the other.  But that would be false.  She was enjoying her multiple little orgasms — what good slave wouldn’t enjoy them, and let her lovers know she was enjoying them?  But she was playing a deeper game.

She teased Les with her lips and hands, and squeezed Saul’s pounding member, finding the perfect rhythm to get him off right when Les spewed down her throat.  The two men gasped and fucked her, filling her pussy and sliding down her throat, and she fucked them back, drawing them into her world.  Building and building, she released her own desire, feeling the electric shocks of the sex and the lust; feeling them use her as she used them back.  It was almost time for the big one.

Finally she knew they could wait no longer.  Thrusting back onto Saul’s cock, she squeezed Les’ balls, and pulled him down into mouth, swallowing him into her throat. The men cried out and shot their cum into her.  Her body responded shuddering and electrified by her first big orgasm.  She screamed around Les’ cock as he pulled out of her.  Saul collapsed behind her: two orgasms in one night after a decade of abstinence was all he could manage.

Les stepped back.  “Wow,” he said, as she wiped cum-drool from her lips, sucking it off her finger.

“Ready for more?” she asked, her voice a smile but with a sexual rumble that would arouse the dead.

“Oh, I’ll have more,” Les said, grabbing her hair, and pulling back her head.  She smiled at him, as he gazed down at her bared throat, her breasts and nipples. “There’s little doubt of that.”  After all, he was already hard again.

“Don’t worry,” she said.  “I’ll make you come until you can’t come anymore.” She twisted her head, removing his grip, and stood in front of him.  “There’s just one thing you’ll need to do for me.”

“You’re a submissive,” he said. “You’ll do what I say.”  He grabbed for her breasts, and she pushed his hands away.

“Delete my records,” Girl #16810 said, stepping close to him, rubbing her breasts against his chest, taking her cock in one hand.  “And I’ll make you feel so good.”

He turned to face the console, and started pressing buttons, she pressed against his back, reaching around for his cock.  “I– I thought you were a sex slave.  That’d you do anything you were ordered to do.”

She pulled on his cock, and kissed his neck as she watched him remove her records.  “Oh, I am, I am,” she said. She pulled on his cock faster, and he groaned.  “But you’re not my master,” she whispered as he came in her hand.

They found Les and Saul arranged in a 69 the next morning, covered in sweat and come.

Girl #16180 was nowhere to be found.