artificial intelligence

Feeling elated at the day’s events, Michael left school and headed towards the public library. In the car, Pandora gave him updates on the Beijing situation and went over his schedule for the rest of the week. At the library Michael sat at one of the workstations and let Pandora out to play again. She would test the network, learn what was stored on it, and absorb any new material she found. Michael killed some time going over his coursework for his online college classes until a quarter to four.

After that he left and headed towards the dojo. He practiced Aikido with an advanced class of 2nd and 1st Kyu students and was looking to test before he went off to college. He didn’t practice it for self-defense or to learn how to fight; he’d never had a problem with bullies or felt he needed an aggressive outlet (he had hockey for that). It was just that with all the things bouncing around in his head, sometimes he needed a release; some place to lose himself and find his center.

He supposed he could have done Tai Chi or something, but they’d had a demonstration with a wooden bokken when he’d first joined and he’d instantly fallen in love with the beauty of the art. And really, you can only practice what someone is willing to teach, and that was the only option in the small town. After the class ended, Michael stayed to help teach the beginner’s class that started.

He had been exposed to Sambo during his trips to Romania though, and had experienced different styles of fighting, primarily Muay Thai, Judo, and boxing. If he had to fight, he wanted to finish it quickly and thoroughly.

Following a shower and dinner with his parents, Michael and Pandora mapped out their plan of attack. Michael started a queue of all the different things that would go off at once. First, Pandora had located most of the monetary accounts attached to the hackers and would release a worm that would bog down traffic and play havoc with the security systems. In the confusion, Pandora would liquidate those accounts to an offshore account Michael had set up for just this purpose. Then from there, the money would be sent to one of his storage accounts registered under a false name.

Next, everyone in the contact lists each of the individuals would be receiving a Trojan which Michael hoped would help him take down the larger collective at a later date. The computers of those involved would be attacked and their personal information would be released to the public, their relatives, and workplace, as well as sites commonly traversed by hackers, complete with doctored photos and incriminating evidence.

Their log files had revealed other jobs they had been in the process of completing, as well as sites they had visited and messages they had sent. This would all be published online along with humiliating commentary about their so-called accomplishments.

Lastly, their website would be transferred to a different server that only Michael had control of, and their original server trashed. The URL to their website would show a vandalized version of their site, which they’d be unable to remove, along with a chilling notice warning of what happened to those who went against him.

As Kat drifted off to sleep that night, her thoughts were on the boy she’d met that day. She didn’t think it was possible to fall in love at first sight, but Michael certainly seemed to put her in heat. Just the thought of his hands roaming all over her body got her wet and her own hand dipped under the covers. Thoughts turned to fantasies and fantasies turned to dreams.

The next day the trio sat in the computer lab at lunch munching on MREs Michael had gotten at an army surplus store for the price of nothing. There was some dance or something or other coming up soon and Kat was trying to get Joseph to ask Tammy out. Michael knew that wasn’t going to go over well with the popular crowd but kept his mouth shut. Instead, Michael was reviewing the impact of last night’s hack. The entire community was abuzz with what had happened. Neither government was commenting, but there were a number of Chinese banks that had reported being hacked and described the chaos left by Pandora’s worm.

Kat seemed to remember that he was a fellow hacker and gossiped about what she’d heard about the attack; who people thought the hacker was and what his motivations were. Michael had to chuckle at that and Kat gave him a curious look.

She went back to trying to convince Joseph, and Michael drafted an e-mail to an intermediary who would contact the US government concerning some stolen login information related to the Chinese government. It had been stored on the hard drives he’d cracked and Michael was willing to sell it. As he sent the mail and went to his inbox, Kat looked over and got a glimpse of a full page of messages wishing him congratulations for the night before, complete with a few that included his alias “Fate” and even some with racial slurs in reference to the Chinese.

“It was you!” Kat exclaimed, staring at Michael open-mouthed.

He sighed. Michael hadn’t made any attempt at hiding what he was working on. He didn’t know if it was because he was feeling overconfident from the night before or if he had wanted an excuse to brag about it. Perhaps he felt something for Kat in the short time they’d shared together and he didn’t want to lie to her.

Michael had expected Kat to be shocked, angry, even hurt by the revelation. When he looked up, he was completely unprepared for the look of pure, unbridled lust that shown on her face. She launched herself at him from her chair and gave him a scorching kiss that left him feeling light-headed. He didn’t know what to do with his tongue or his hands so he just let her lead and enjoyed it.

She pulled away and looked into Michael’s eyes and growled, “You have GOT to tell me how you do that.” When the pair had caught their breath, she glanced over and said in a low voice, “Excuse us, Joseph.” Then she reached down, grabbed hold of Michael’s hand, and pulled him to his feet and out the door.

Michael barely managed to snag the flash drive before they were walking down the halls in the direction of the parking lot. He cast a curious glance at Kat as they both heard the bell ring, signaling the end of lunch.

“We’re skipping,” is all she said, very matter-of-fact about it.

As they both got into his car, Kat told Michael to drive to her place. Michael tried to be evasive and asked where she lived. Kat simply looked and him and raised an eyebrow.

Michael sighed and mumbled, “Forestview it is then…”

Kat smiled and said cheerfully, “That’s what I thought.” After taking in his expression, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m not mad you checked up on me or found out where I live. I actually find it kinda hot that you can do that and that you would take enough interest in me to do so.”

As they got close to the apartment, Michael became nervous. He didn’t want to be presumptuous, but it was better that he brought it up now rather than later. He started, “I don’t have a, uhh-”

Kat giggled, “Don’t worry. Mom’s had me on the pill for years.” ‘Not that there was much point until now,’ she thought to herself.

When they reached the door to her apartment, Michael cast another curious look at her and Kat shook her head, “Mom doesn’t come home ’til late.” They stepped inside and took off their shoes. Michael saw a small, cozy living room with a couch and TV and attached kitchen.

Leading him down a hallway, she opened the door to her room and allowed Michael to walk in, glancing around as he did so. It was… ‘Girly.’ There were actually pink frills on the bed. It didn’t seem to match the girl he knew at all.

As he turned to question Kat, she tackled him, causing him to end up on the bed with her on top. Her lips locked onto his and for a second neither of them could breathe as they both saw stars. Their hands fumbled around ineffectively, trying to remove the other’s clothes while continuing their lip-lock.

Finally, Michael grasped her shoulders to hold her still and murmured, “Slow down, Kat.”

Kat grinned in his mouth and pulled back, biting and scraping his bottom lip as she did so. “I love it when you call me ‘Kat.’ All the little bitches at school always called me ‘Cathy.’

They both sat up on the edge of the bed and looked at each other. Michael reached for the hem of her shirt and slowly dragged it up over her head, then allowed her to do the same with his. He leaned in and kissed the crook of her neck while he reached behind her to unsnap her bra. As they separated Michael was fixated on her amazing breasts. Her rosy pink nipples, standing erect, had his mouth watering and he was instantly hard.

Kat, seeing that she was having an effect on Michael began to calm down and get into the mood. She took each of his hands in her own and hauled them both up until they were standing facing each other. Slowly, she fell to her knees, reaching out to unbuckle Michael. As his jeans dropped to the floor, she hadn’t expected him to be going commando and was unprepared when his cock flopped out and bobbed less than an inch from her face. It was probably only average in size, but to her it looked huge and for a moment she felt a prickle of fear.

Michael smiled as he looked down at her stunned expression, and much of his nervousness began to bleed out as well. Reaching down he pulled her up into a standing position once more, then he dropped to his knees, grasping her buttons. After he just about tore them open, he dug into the sides of her pants and slowly pulled them down.

Kat whimpered as Michael’s hot breath blew against her mound, then gasped as his fingers slid into the waistband of her moist panties, dragging them down her legs in excruciating slowness. It was too much. She stepped back and turned her body away from him, hugging her arms to herself.

Michael sat back on the bed and waited patiently as Kat collected herself. Finally, she spoke softly, “I’m a- a virgin. I know I was the one to bring you here and all, but I just- I feel a little overwhelmed, I guess. It’s just that-” She stopped once more and seemed to be searching for words.

Michael chuckled, “Well, I admit it’s a surprise given how hot you are, but if it makes you feel any better I am too, so we’ll both be facing this together.”

Kat looked at him skeptically, “Bullshit. You’re rich, handsome, athletic, caring. You’re an international hacker genius. You’re telling me no one has managed to snatch you up yet?”

“Well,” Michael replied teasingly, “there is this one girl, if she ever decides to make up her mind, then I think I could be convinced.” They both burst out laughing and it released a lot of the tension in the room. “Now, you’re going to sit your cute ass on my lap and let me play with those gorgeous tits of yours, and then I’m going to kneel down between your legs and you’ll tell me how you want me to pleasure you.”

Kat felt her cheeks redden at his forwardness but complied, sitting down on Michael’s naked lap and even giving her attractive tush a wiggle or two for good measure. Michael groaned, but then quickly found a pair of objects to occupy his attention. She giggled happily and draped her arms around his neck.

He wrapped his left arm around her frame, pulling her towards him. His mouth enclosed on her left boob, swirling his tongue around her nipple, giving it a little nibble before moving on to the next one. While he was trying to pay an appropriate amount of attention to each morsel, Michael’s right hand sneaked down towards her fuzzy peach and cupped it, causing a sharp intake of breath from Kat. She moaned as Michael’s middle finger traced her slit and slowly slid between her folds.

Kat began to pant as he gradually increased the number of fingers sliding in and out of her pussy. Michael curved his fingers inwards to try and hit her g-spot, while his thumb pulled back her hood and began circular rotations around her clit. At least, he hoped that’s what he was doing. Porn was turning out to be a shitty substitute for experience…

“Oh yes,” Kat hissed, “it was never this *pant* good. Fuck! Keep going… Move *pant* your thumb faster, babe. Oh, just like that. I’m gun- gunna-”

As Michael felt her start to cum, he jammed his thumb down hard onto her clit and watched as her eyes flew open and her mouth formed an “O.” Her entire body froze up as it was rocked into orgasm after orgasm. As she finally came down she slumped against him, burying her face in his shoulder, her body still quivering from the aftershocks she felt.

“Jesus,” she whispered, still plastered against him, “you sure set the bar high.”

Michael chuckled and hugged her to him. “Just let me know when you’re ready to carry on,” he murmured into her ear. She shuddered, then after awhile met his eyes and nodded. Laying her down onto the bed with her legs hanging off the edge, Michael knelt between her thighs and breathed deep, getting to know her scent. Kat propped herself up on her elbows so she could see what he was doing.

Michael sat back on his heels and grasped her left leg in both of his hands, raising it up slightly. Then, he went down on one knee and began trailing kisses up her leg, steadily moving closer to her steaming cunt. Just as he was about to touch it, he blew on it then backed off. Kat moaned in impatience and let her head drop back. Michael moved to her right leg and began the process anew. When he was once more close to his prize, he gently blew on it again. This time Kat, in frustration, grab two handfuls of hair and buried his face in her juicy pussy. Michael wedged his tongue in as far as it would go before withdrawing and sucking on each of her folds.

After more teasing, Michael tongued her from anus to clit, drawing a squeak from her as his tongue found her rosebud. As soon as she started panting again, he began circling her tiny nub with his tongue. When he felt her getting close to release, he jammed two fingers into her and started rubbing against her pleasure zone. As she let herself go, Michael gently bit down on her button and started whipping his tongue back and forth across it as fast as he could. He kept up the intensity as she went through multiple orgasms and even then, didn’t stop until she wormed her fingers into his hair and pried him away from her, trembling.

“Oh god!” she gasped shakily, still out of breath. “You almost killed me. I can see spots. Anymore and I’d probably have blacked out.”

Michael wiped his face on her blanket and looked up at her saying, “Oh well, maybe next time.” Kat shot him a hungry look.

Michael laughed then moved up her body to plant a kiss on her lips. “You looked so cute though,” he told her quietly. “I just love the feel of you squirming beneath me. God, you’re beautiful.” Kat smiled up at him, bathed in her afterglow, and snuggled into his arms.

“You know, you were supposed to be telling me what you liked,” Michael whispered, kissing her neck.

Kat gave a weak laugh, “I think you’ve got the hang of it.”

After some time had passed she noticed his prick poking her in the stomach. Unhurriedly, she pushed herself up and gazed down between Michael’s legs. After waiting for Michael to lie on his back, she timidly reached out and grasped his pulsing cock, which hadn’t softened in the least, and gulped, staring at it.

Michael didn’t want to pressure her, but he also wanted to let her know that he was fine with putting her pleasure first. “You don’t have to-” he started.

“NO,” Kat said determinedly, causing Michael to wince when she accidently squeezed her hand too hard. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly, and began stroking her hand up and down his slimy member, “it’s just that you went through the trouble of going down on me, so I want to do it for you.”

Michael shot her a lighthearted smirk, “Well, it really wasn’t any trouble and I actually loved being so close to your pussy, but I’m certainly not going to try and persuade you not to.”

Kat gave him a saucy grin, then fixed his cock with a resolute expression. She lowered her head and gave it a tentative lick. She then latched her mouth onto the tip and began working her tongue around the head while her hand continued to jack him off. She then opened her mouth wider and blew hot breath out as she moved down its length as far as she could without bumping the back of her throat.

Michael clenched his fists and his chest rose up off the bed as she almost took his full length into her mouth. “Oh shit!” he exclaimed, and it was his turn to pant.

She then sucked hard as she moved up his shaft, only to start swirling her tongue around the tip again when she reached the top. As she repeated this process and went into a pattern, her hand reached down and cupped his balls and began a gentle massage. It wasn’t long until Michael told her he was close. Kat just hummed her response and he lost it, not believing his luck. He exploded into Kat’s mouth in a volume he’d never experienced before. Michael bucked his hips and tried to keep from grabbing her head and slamming it down.

Kat thought she would have a chance to get used to his cum before swallowing it, but it soon became apparent that there was too much for her to hold and she hastily started gulping it down. It didn’t taste good, but certainly not as bad as her mother made it out to be.

After cleaning off his cock she gave a chaste kiss on its tip in silent thanks for giving her this experience. She straightened up and sat with her legs under her as she gazed down at Michael’s contented expression with a look of absolute adoration. She knew she would be Michael’s for the rest of her life with a degree of certainty only teenagers feeling the first stirrings of love can achieve. She wanted to kiss him but suddenly felt a line of cum leaking down her chin from the corner of her mouth and realized he probably wouldn’t want to after what she’d just done.

She got up suddenly and turned towards the door saying, “I’ll be right back. Let me jus-”

That was as far as she got before Michael grabbed her arm and pulled her down onto the bed next to him. Then he moved his leg and pushed his body up until he was straddling her. As she looked up with wide eyes, Michael dipped his head down and kissed her. Hard. Kat felt gooseflesh rise and a shudder ripped through her as he left her gasping.

Michael raised his head and then cupped her face. Looking into his eyes, Kat saw the same love and certainty that she’d felt staring back at her.

Neither knew who started to move first, but both realized it was time to seal their lovemaking. Michael lay on his back and held out his hands for Kat to grasp as she straddled him. “From what I’ve read, it’s best for the girl to be on top the first time so she can set the pace,” he said softly. Kat nodded in acceptance and began to rub her pussy against Michael’s semi-hard dick, lightly humping its length between her folds.

As she positioned Michael’s cock against her opening she was almost vibrating with need. She had one last bout of absurdity, musing to herself, ‘at least he’s already wet.’ Giggling ridiculously, she started to sink down Michael’s throbbing length.

“Holy fuck!” Michael cried out when she’d hit bottom. He sat up and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her tenderly and rocking her gently. “You feel amazing,” he murmured in her ear.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to laugh, but it came out sounding more like a sob. With tears in her eyes she held him close and repeated over and over, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

After some time had passed, Kat sniffed and pushed against Michael who still had his arms around her, still rocking her gently, joined as they were. Michael lay down on his back again as Kat began increasing the pace of their rocking. It wasn’t long before she began sliding further and further up his shaft until she began slamming herself all the way down, fucking him full tilt. After her first orgasm ripped through her, she continued fucking but leaned forward so her breasts hung close to Michael’s face. He thought they bounced quite nicely as he cupped them in his hands and lifted his head to give them the attention they deserved. A second climax tore through her as Michael bit down on her right nipple and began flicking his tongue back and forth.

The next morning, Michael walked up the steps leading to Kat’s apartment and knocked on the door. It was pulled open suddenly by Kat’s mom, who he’d learned was named Jennifer. As soon as he walked through the door the inquisition began: ‘Who are you; Where do you live; How long have you known Catherine; Are you the one who convinced her to wear those dreadful clothes…’ Michael tried to keep his answers respectful but was having a hard time trying not to laugh.

Jennifer stopped talking in midsentence when Kat walked out of her room. Michael turned to see what she was gaping at and froze in admiration. Kat still wore darker clothes, but she seemed to have opened up more. She walked towards Michael wearing black leather boots, a cutoff jean skirt, and a black tank top. She’d even gotten rid of her black nail polish.

For Jennifer’s part, she hadn’t seen her daughter wear anything but black pants and long-sleeves when she went out in almost a year and she was suddenly suspicious of what brought about this change. Her suspicions were answered when Kat strode up to Michael, grabbed his collar, and drew him in for a heart-stopping kiss.

After doing a thorough job of leaving him breathless, Kat stepped back and grasped his hand. As she led Michael through the front door, stopping to pick up the mandatory coat Washingtonians are required to bring along wherever they go in case of rain, she called to her still-speechless mom, “I’ll be back late.”

As they were walking to the car, Michael gazed at her long legs and tight curves. Kat, pleased with the attention, smiled and thrust out her chest. Michael snickered and questioned, “No purse?”

Kat stopped, “No. Do you want me to me to wear one?”

Michael draped an arm around her and got them moving again, “No, it was just an idle thought. I haven’t had many girlfriends so I was just curious.” Then, softly he murmured, “This is all pretty new to me.”

Her eyes sparkled and she snuggled into him as they reached the car and said, “It’s new to me too, but don’t worry. We’ll handle this together. We’re too close now to be bothered by every little thing.” They kissed and then entered Michael’s car.

The couple decided to catch a movie and hang out at the mall that was in the next town over. On the way, Kat asked more questions about Pandora and Michael shared his ideas about communicating with her in public without anyone else noticing. As it was, he could type instructions to her on his phone. They decided to acquire hidden wireless ear buds so she could alert them to problems or updates when they were just walking around or in class. Michael asked Pandora to check if it was feasible to develop the voice modulators from that “Mission: Impossible” movie. They could then talk silently with their throat muscles and Pandora would be able to pick up what they said.

After buying tickets for the action blockbuster they’d both wanted to see, they sat in the back of the theater. Since it was the earliest showing available, the theater wasn’t very full and they had the whole last row and the two in front of it to themselves. Kat insisted on sitting on Michael’s lap and, when the previews were done and the lights had dimmed, she unzipped Michael, pulled her panties to the side, and plunged down onto his shaft with a stifled gasp.

“See,” she whispered to Michael, starting a slow up and down rhythm, “I wore a skirt so you’d have easy access.”

Michael grinned and held her by her waist, guiding her movements. He couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten to have found this spitfire. It wasn’t long before Kat had to bite down on her wrist to keep from crying out. Michael stopped her movement, turned her slightly around, and told her that if she needed to she should bite into his shoulder instead.

As the pace picked up again, Kat was having trouble as she didn’t want to hurt him. Then Michael spoke softly into her ear, “Mark me.” She came on the spot at his words and bit down hard, claiming him. Michael had to grit his teeth but he endured and hugged her tighter.

After they’d both finished and calmed down, she looked into his eyes and rasped, “Mine.”

“Forever,” Michael promised solemnly.

She turned back to watch the movie, leaning with her back against his chest, his cock still embedded inside her. Michael glided his hands up underneath her shirt and fondled her tits. They stayed that way for the rest of the movie.

Leaving the theater, they both felt hungry and headed in the direction of the food court. While ordering from the Subway, Kat noticed a cute Asian girl behind the counter that had caught Michael’s attention. As they were walking to a table she bumped her shoulder against his and said, “She’s cute, huh?”

Michael gave a neutral grunt. Kat laughed and assured him, “I’m not jealous.” And she wasn’t. With the pure devotion and reverence she now felt for him, she simply accepted that whatever made him happy, made her happy.

Before Michael could sit down, she plastered herself against him and groped his crotch. “Do you have a thing for Asian girls,” she asked coyly, “or her in particular?” She felt his cock twitch as she said ‘Asian girls’ and turned around abruptly, taking her seat. “Well then, we’ll just have to find one or two for you to satisfy your urges,” she said, shooting him a seductive smile.

Michael raised an eyebrow as he sat down. “You’d be willing to share a bed with another girl? Maybe Pan wasn’t too far off when she put all those girl-on-girl sites up on your screen,” he said jokingly.

She blushed and mumbled, “Well, I wouldn’t have to be there if you didn’t want me.”

Michael’s eyes turned cold and he said forcefully, “I don’t want to receive pleasure if it means you’re going to be left out. Does this mean you want to add other guys into the mix so you can be happy?”

Kat’s eyes went wide and she made a cutting gesture. “NO. Never!” she stated emphatically. “You’re the only one I’ll ever submit to.” She reached out to cup his cheek, “Baby, I will be yours alone no matter what. I ‘want’ you to be selfish and take what you want. I will ‘never’ betray you, please believe me.” By the end of her outburst, she was almost in tears

Michael felt himself calm down. He’d felt a brief prickle of fear that something might be able to come between them, but as he looked at the almost fanatical worship in her eyes he felt his worries wash away. He supposed he should have felt uncomfortable with how quickly things were moving or with the extent of her compulsion to serve him. He did feel a little fear, but only that he would fuck it all up somehow. All he could manage was acceptance. And he just loved the way she had said ‘submit.’

Grasping the fingers of her hand in his he brushed his lips over them. “I’m sorry to have doubted you and I’m honored that you feel that way for me,” he said gently.

Kat leaned in and gave him a soft kiss. “Never apologize,” she paused, as if tasting the word, “master.” Michael grinned and his cock soared upward. They both burst out laughing and tore into their sandwiches, talking about some of their more interesting online exploits.

They were walking around the mall when Michael spotted a cell phone kiosk. He’d noted that Kat didn’t have one and stopped, pointing out the latest, most expensive model to the guy behind the counter. Michael wordlessly handed the forms to Kat to fill out, but when she reached down to the inside pocket of her skirt to pay, Michael merely slapped her hand away.

They moved to a bench and Michael started opening up the packaging of their new acquisition. “I’m covering all of your expenses now so quit trying to be polite every time we stop at someplace,” Michael said absently. “I know you don’t have a job, nor are you getting money through illegal means.”

“Pan,” he said, addressing his watch, “register Kat’s name under our offshore account in Belize and send a High Limit Anonymous MasterCard to her address.”

“Of course, master,” Pandora responded.

Michael turned on the phone and, after playing around with it a little, ordered, “Send a copy of yourself into the phone, Pan. Make sure it’s secure and no one else can use it to remotely track or listen in on Kat.” The phone in his hand vibrated, signaling Pan had done what he’d asked. Standing up and handing the phone to Kat he told her, “Now Pan can be with you all time and you can ask her for anything you need.”

Kat struggled with the emotions she felt. He’d given her so much already and she was sure there would be a great deal more to come. ‘Accept any and all gifts from him,’ she reminded herself sharply. She calmed down and draped her arms around his neck and gave him a deep, passionate kiss. Pulling back, she whispered, “I’ll just have to thank you properly later.”

Michael gave her tush a soft pat as they began walking again and Kat whined half-seriously, “Maybe we can just find a restroom.” Looking down at the phone in her hand, she asked, “How did Pan access my phone?”

Michael chuckled, “She can use 4G. Right now she can interact wirelessly via Wi-Fi and most radio signals. She’s working on a way to talk directly to devices that don’t have a receiver; some kind of energy transfer…”

They entered a bookstore and both wordlessly walked to the Scifi/Fantasy section set up in the back. After browsing for awhile, Kat bent over to reach one of the books on the bottom shelf. Seeing no one around, and with such an attractive target, Michael reached his hand under her skirt and begin rubbing along her slit. Kat moaned and almost hit her head as she fell forward, barely getting her hands up in time to catch herself.

When it became apparent that she wasn’t going to straighten up, Michael slid his hand under soft fabric and dipped two fingers inside her. After pumping in and out a few times he withdrew his fingers and sucked them in his mouth, enjoying her sweet nectar. “Mmm, delicious,” he announced.

Kat finally straightened up and glared at him. “I can’t believe you’re going to tease me like that and then leave me all hot and bothered,” she accused.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, Michael stated simply, “I like to keep my girl interested.” Kat beamed when he’d said ‘my girl’ and melted against him.

As they left the store, Kat grabbed his arm and proceeded to drag him across the lane to the Victoria’s Secret. Grabbing a few things off the racks, she placed Michael in the seat outside the dressing rooms and said, “If you get to tease me then I’m going to return the favor.” And with that, she turned around and went into the area the stalls were located.

What followed was a truly glorious occurrence that every boyfriend should get to experience. Underwear and sleepwear of every kind was exhibited in front of Michael. Kat flaunted sexy lingerie that teased the limits of propriety and some that jumped clear over them.

Michael’s favorite was a skimpy crimson lace-thong and brassiere set that showed off her hair. The fact that it was nearly see-through had nothing to do with it, Michael assured himself. He also chose an emerald green flyaway babydoll which matched her eyes and a sheer mesh teddy that made his mouth water.

Kat finally exited in her street clothes just before a dazed Michael could be overwhelmed. He glanced over at her and grinned salaciously. “So I guess we won’t find crotchless panties here?” Michael asked innocently.

Kat blushed and said, “Not here, but I know a place that sells them.”

The pair left the shop after Michael bought the purchases he’d picked out, along with a bundle Kat had handed the salesgirl. “For later,” was all she told him. They decided to head over to Michael’s house where they would attempt to deal with the larger Chinese collective that the ‘Force of Heaven’ had belonged to. Kat didn’t have her laptop with her, but Pandora was much more capable of performing the various tasks she’d need to do.

As they pulled up to his house on the outskirts of town, Kat felt a bit humbled at its size in comparison to her small apartment. Michael let her get out and then parked in the garage. Michael had been born to teenage parents and they were pretty lax when it came to the subject of girls. In truth, when Tiberiu and Elena Dragomir met Kat, they were relieved that their son had finally found someone. Elena immediately invited Kat to stay for dinner before Michael could ask, then shooed the couple upstairs in the direction of Michael’s room.

The way he usually went about hacking consisted of sitting at his desk with his laptop in front of him, running three LCD monitors in the background. He’d use the laptop to enter values and do anything else that was easier typed than said aloud, while sometimes it was just easier for him to think of a solution by going the traditional route. Meanwhile, he could direct and monitor Pandora’s movements simultaneously on the three screens.

With Kat here, Michael wanted to try something different. He closed the blinds and then led her to his king-sized bed. He had an ultra-high res full HD projector mounted directly above it facing the blank wall beyond the foot of the bed. Usually used to stream movies, it had direct connections to both his PC and the internet. They lay down as Pandora spooled it up without being asked, Michael wrapping an arm around Kat as they used the pillows to prop themselves up.

“Fancy,” Kat remarked, happy that they could snuggle while they worked.

As Pandora set up the proxy servers and took measures to make their impending footnote altogether invisible, Michael ordered her to make the screen, which was 12ft. diagonally, split into four equal windows so they could multitask. They decided that since Michael had already sent a clear message to the Chinese and the hacking world in general, they wouldn’t need to worry about hiding what they were after or coming up with elaborate plans. The collective was too big to take down all at once anyway and they considered this a prolonged vendetta. It was more about creating a target-rich environment where they could act spontaneously, as they identified a person or organization relating to the collective.

Mainly though, Michael was happy to have a set of targets he could rob blind and create chaos among and not feel guilty about afterwards. This was going to help the US on the cyber front tremendously, but he’d do it for the fun. It was also going to be an opportunity for Kat and him to work together and build another kind of relationship. Michael had Pandora bring up a list of all the contacts that had received a Trojan and they began.

Sometime later they were both jarred out of their concentration as they heard a knock on the door. The couple had been in the zone, completely oblivious to everything else, aside from the other’s voice. They glanced at the clock to see it blinking 7 p.m. and were startled to see that four hours had passed since they started. Looking back at the screens, what they’d done started filtering back to them and they began to register the utter devastation they had caused. Viewing it as a battlefield, because that’s what it was, they saw the burned out hulks of mangled computers, servers, and system software. The information stored on them had been copied, the originals deleted; their programs crashed, their networks collapsed.

Kat turned and gave Michael a scorching kiss. She was buzzing with excitement at what she’d been a part of. “That’s incredible!” she exclaimed. “Security measures that would have taken me days to penetrate, and that’s if everything went right, Pan cut through in seconds.” She moaned dreamily, “And the destruction she left in her wake… You really named her appropriately. God! It’s so easy and seamless now. I can’t imagine going back to sifting through line after line of code when Pan can just find what I’m looking for instantly.” She hugged him tightly, willing this all to be real and not some twisted dream. “Thank you for sharing this with me,” she finally said.

Michael couldn’t be happier that he and Kat seemed to meld so well together. He squeezed her arm and said, “Come on. I think that knock meant dinner’s ready.”

Heading towards the door, Kat stopped. “All the text had been in English. I expected most of the code to be, but I just realized everything we saw was perfectly understandable…” she said, questioningly.

The corner of his mouth quirked up and Michael explained, “You won’t find a better translator then Pan. She even knows to simplify what’s being said so you get the pertinent information upfront.” He pondered a bit, then remarked, “I think she’s getting used to you, Kat. I noticed quite a few instances where windows were navigating and script was being altered before you could say anything.” Kat just looked amazed.

At dinner, Elena had made a traditional Romanian meal of sarmale, boeuf salad, and Romanian smoked sausage. She also had Tiberiu pour everybody wine, not exactly a supporter of underage drinking laws. Kat told a little about herself and the folks asked those typical questions like, ‘Where are you going to college, do you have a major yet, do you play any sports, etc.’ Kat found Michael’s mom to have a wicked sense of humor and she blushed incessantly.

After dinner, the couple retreated back to Michael’s room. There were still a couple of targets for them to go after and they still hadn’t claimed responsibility for their actions. Michael asked Kat if she needed to talk to her hacker group before they got started.

Kat shook her head and said, “I quit last night. They weren’t happy about it and made a big issue of it, but I left all the same.” Michael shot her a questioning glance and Kat explained, “It was their charter. There were a lot of… loyalty clauses. There was a sort of clan mentality in place that required members to always put the group first. After what we shared yesterday, it didn’t feel right to swear allegiance to anyone but you.”

Michael placed his hand on the back of her neck and locked her lips with his. When they came up for air, Michael asked, “Any regrets?”

“Not a chance,” Kat replied, smiling.

“I took the liberty of removing all traces and connections you had with them, mistress,” Pandora said. “It appears they weren’t planning on letting you just walk away after learning their secrets.”

Kat looked up in astonishment. “Anything we need to take care of,” Michael questioned, not really surprised from what he knew of hacker groups.

“No, master,” Pandora responded, “I scoured the hard drives of each individual carefully and any compromising info of her online has already been taken care of by the bots when we added her to the protection list.” “I hope I wasn’t too forward in making my decisions, mistress,” she said, speaking to Kat, “it’s just that you mean a great deal to my master now and seeing you come to harm would hurt him.”

“N- No,” Kat stuttered, still a bit flustered at the whole ordeal. “Thank you for looking after me, Pan. I consider you a sister in how we attend to Michael.” The light in the room turned brighter for a few seconds, simulating Pandora’s happiness at the thought of having a sister.

Michael couldn’t have been more proud of his little AI then at that moment. He led Kat to the bed and they resumed sowing chaos and discord. It soon became apparent that other hackers were accumulating in the localized areas they were hitting. Some were in the systems they were cracking, trying to get a fix on their location or just trying to figure out how they were doing it. Others were adding to the carnage, getting their own piece of revenge on an organization known to be hostile. Many just flocked like vultures to carrion. The targets had been identified, the battle lines drawn, and all sides wanted to get in on the action.

They had spent the last hour taking apart a major Chinese corporation based out of Shanghai that had turned out to be a front, where many of the collective’s ongoing dealings occurred. They had infected all of the company’s networked terminals and the massive amount of information they had gathered would take years to sift through. Pandora was able to quickly locate the relevant account data however, so the couple could quickly liquidate their assets.

“Of all the gifts which heaven can bestow, there is one above all measure; that is a friend amidst all our woe, for a friend is a found treasure. I give to thee that sacred name, for thou art such to me and ever will I claim to be that friend to thee.” — Thomas Steven, 19th-century silk weaver.

The woman who stepped through the airlock and into the brothel wore a leopard-print coat with a high mandarin collar and a chequered scarf wrapped tightly around her head, obscuring her face but not the large afro that radiated from her skull like a solar eclipse. At the door she asked for Dew-3913 by name. In an off-world colony of interchangeable gynoids and cyber sexdolls he had been designed for the rough trade; a slender, fey machine, a willow boy with skin of copper, his Cyberdyne programming making him a total bio-synthetic: “for the discreet gentleman and the discerning lady.” That, at least, was the idea.

Dew-3913 had a certain selection of regular clientele out on the New Angeles Colony: Thex G’Baeli, Lael, Kvasir, Mintheth … bipedal humanoids for the most part; some older male poets addicted to laudanum, a couple of butch marines looking to explore the uncharted cosmos, even a lipstick clone suffering from “empty nest” syndrome. The woman who asked for him, though, was none of those patrons.

Dew-3913′s inhibitor circuits would not allow him to feel curiosity about a potential patron until ordered to do so, but he had once seen the word defined in a dictionary so he was at least aware that the emotion existed. He wondered if it felt a bit like what he was feeling just at that moment — a hint of excitement, a warm sensation at the end of each finger tip — as he stepped naked out of the sexdoll containment unit, the stink of amino fluids completely washed away. The woman in question stood in the middle of the hallway, towering over the Procuress. She wore electric blue go-go boots, the kind that sparkled when she moved, that disappeared under the hem of her coat. She didn’t show him her face as she paid immediately in intergalactic coin, the sort of money that pitstop outlaws and rocket jockeys could only dream about. The Procuress cooed and gave her Dew-3913′s remote control, a hand held device used for operating him wirelessly. With that in her hand a patron could ask for anything, anything at all. The Procuress even prepared the special Mechanical Delights room — the swankiest chamber in the whole purple-dust brothel.

Dew-3913 stared blankly into his patron’s eyes, the only part of the woman that he could see, waiting until she decided to take his hand and lead him away. Her eyes were a different sort than any he had ever seen; dark as the moon, almond-shaped, flecked with gold. For some illogical reason they reminded him of his own, though, of course, his had been designed and built in a factory. They entered the Mechanical Delight together, an empty cubical covered in imitative alien pelts and furs, a bed that could be fully programmable for any position, chairs and one entire wall devoted to an active video screen with Julie Newmar wandering around in her hideous bra and panties; a recording made nearly three hundred years ago, being called Rhoda, somebody’s idea of what an archaic fembot would look like. “What a goofy robot!” her creator said, to which Rhoda replied, “the goofiest!” Then came the recorded laughter. Dew-3913 had never understand such cues, the artificial joviality, the same recording in fact, repeated over and over at the end of certain bits of dialogue. He supposed the mystery lay in the fact that he had not been programmed to understand it.

The woman locked the door behind them and then turned to face him, finally pulling the scarf away from her face. She was much older than Dew-3913 had assumed. His eyes kept wandering down to her lips, studying the delicious swells of her mouth. He had the oddest desire to reach out and touch those lips. That was not right, he had not been ordered to do such a thing. He considered this. Would that mean there was a glitch somewhere in his bio-system? By definition he should not be able to think or feel anything until bidden to do so.

Why would he be malfunctioning at a time like this?

Dew-3913 had been in the containment unit for twenty-four hours, having his memories scrubbed. It was a necessary fail-safe step the brothel took with all its working employees, since some of the cravings that the patrons requested were … perverse; and there was always the danger of a ghost memory causing conflict between orders and the need for self-preservation. This woman was his first patron that evening. Part of his programming had said that he should tell her that there was a glitch occurring so that she could ask for her money back. What else was capitalism for if not that? He was the only male sexdoll in the brothel and although a patron’s desires, genitalia and body shape meant nothing to him, he understood that certain humanoids could become very agitated and illogical when exposed to the genitalia of “the wrong kind.” Overriding that need to confess, however, lay something else. It was as if some cognizance circuit had been triggered. Dew-3913 suddenly realized that he did not want to confess anything to anyone. He did not even know why he did not want to, since all his programming required him to do just that.


The woman took off her leopard-print coat, hung it neatly over the back of a chair and switched off the video screen. “My Living Doll” disappeared in a blink. The woman wore a curious pair of hot pants and a matching blouse under her coat pulled tightly across her breasts. Dew-3913 found his eyes settling down upon the skin of her chocolate-brown breasts.

“Well, we are alone at last.”

She walked over to the bed and proceeded to remove her boots, resting one hand on Dew-3913′s chest for support. He stood, patiently, waiting, as she reached up, fingers disappearing under her scalp and in a sudden flourish all that gorgeous hair came away in her hands. Dew-3913 blinked, quite certain that he should not feel any surprise. He was allowed to immediately recognize all emotions in a patron but not to experience those chemical processes for himself. She was bald; the wig, for that was what it was, carefully laid out on the bed next to her.

Standing up he found that she was the same size as he was. He could smell nutmeg, clove cigarettes and alteredstate spice on her skin; the heady reek of a thousand off-world colonies that every journeyman and star traveler carried with them; a faint, lingering perfume. She was short and plump, her stature and the hot pants forced her ass to jut out behind, thickening her thighs as she wiggled her toes in the shag carpet. Dew-3913 had not been able to discern just how rotund her bottom was until she was standing close to him, awaiting her first order. Accessing humanoid beauty was not part of his programming; a sexbot who only swung one way would be a monetary loss for any brothel. But Dew-3913 knew what he liked and this patron possessed it all.

Knew what he liked? … Dew-3913 pondered the ramifications of that last sentence for a second. Curious.

“What would my mistress desire of Dew-3913?” he asked, cocking his head to one side.

The woman stretched and walked over to her jacket, her ass swaying; taking out a small book she handing it to him.

“Read this to me.”

Dew-3913 looked down at the book in his hands. It was not written in binary code like all the other technical manuals he had ever seen. It was old, older than the video that had been playing when they had entered the Mechanical Delights room; it was an artifact. Spelled out in curious printed letters were the words, “Leaves of Grass.” It smelt of deserts and libraries, the salt of the ocean and the wings of sky-larks; all the things that Dew-3913 had read about but had never seen. He looked up at his patron, uncertainty rimming the corners of his eyes. This was not procedure. He was programmed for rough sexual intercourse, for hours of fucking, for pleasure on demand. The woman had yet to even touch him.

“I am programmed to recognize all sixteen-hundred and fifty-two known galactic languages, my mistress.”

She nodded, lay back on the pillow, still fully dressed, smiling.

“Indeed? Then, please, read it to me.”

“Does my mistress wish Dew-3913 to pleasure her first?”

“I believe I just gave you an order. Are you malfunctioning?”

There was no anger in that voice, none of the violence that so many patrons carried around inside themselves, those who mistook servitude for some sort of acceptance. Suddenly Dew-3913 recognized a new emotion running through him; something other than curiosity. It was fear. He had a bug, a flaw, an error. This could only end horribly.

“Dew-3913 apologizes.”

“I don’t want your apologies. I want you to read that poem to me.”

She folded her hands behind her head, staring at him as if a poetry reading was the most natural request for a sexbot.


Dew-3913 glanced askance at the door where, somewhere behind it, the Procuress stood. He did not want to be scrubbed. But logically he should not want that unless he had been ordered. It had never occurred to him such a quandary: what would happen if “wanting” was indeed his patron’s desire? To rebel against his programming, simply for her amusement; a queer sort of liberation.

“Is there something the matter, my dear Dew?” she asked, smiling kindly.

“No, my mistress.”

Dew-3913 opened the page to where a bookmark had been placed, careful not to hurt the ancient paper and began reading the text:

“This is what you shall do: Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul; and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body.”

The woman remained still, silent, watching him. He did not understand this. But then again, logically, he should not be able to unless he had been ordered to do so. Humanity puzzled him.

“Thank you, dear Dew, that’s enough.”

Dew-3913 set the book down, waited for the next orders concerning which positions she wanted him to get into; perhaps she would want to be on her hands and knees, his cock moving between her cunt and asshole. That was a popular position.

“What does my mistress wish next?” Dew-3913 asked when she said nothing after a while.

“Have I asked anything of you?” she said, smiling.

“Not yet but I am fully functional in every and any desire you might wish for.”

“What do you want, Dew?”

Dew-3913 did not know how to respond to such a request.


Dew-3913 hesitated. He was not allowed to have wishes, but she asked. Was that an order?

“What should Dew-3913 want, mistress?”

The woman smiled.

“What’s the point of me asking you that question if I have to answer it for you?”

“Yes, but–”

What he wanted to say was that her question was making him distressed. The result of fear and curiosity when satisfaction could not be at hand. What sort of sick-fuck at the Cyberdyne corporation had included the ability to fear and feel anxiety as part of a sexbot’s core programming? He wasn’t even aware that he possessed such circuitry. Instead he did what an earlier urge had suggested. He reached out and touched her upper lip. The woman did not flinch or even scowl. She simply watched.

“Dew-3913 wants to make my mistress feel good.”



“Is that what you really want?”

Dew-3913 felt her hands on his naked thighs, her nails digging into his skin as she leant forward on the bed. None of the sexbots in the brothel wore clothing, but still it was unusual that she had not commented about his endowment. The older men would sigh on seeing his nine and a half inches, his testicles that hung like pears in the palm of their hands. When a factory can build any body they want to, all for selling a fantasy, the only question is how big a cock should they make before they started ruining the orifices of their patrons? Dew-3913 had read the sales brochure that had been shipped in his box with him. It claimed that they had modeled his cock and balls after a famous 22nd century porn star, back when the idea of paying anything other than a robot for sex was still considered a neat idea. Whoever that stud had been he was dead, long enough now that his name was forgotten but his cock lived on. A strange sort of immortality. Dew-3913 stiffened as he felt her beautiful, mammalian lips slip over the tip of his cock, that wide, wet tongue rubbing the against the silky skin of his shaft.

Adrenaline, that artificial stimulant, flooded his body.

Why did sex always have to be so confusing? The sensation of her mouth was glorious, so perfect and he could give and receive like the best. Yet something was different now.

“Mistress,” he groaned as her mouth consumed him.

He stood there, his copper skin radiating heat, lost in the sensation of her lips — tight, warm, wet — gliding down his shaft. He was the definition of superficiality, he contained no bodily organs yet every millimeter of his outer surface was designed to give the impression that in pleasure lies youth. Her tongue explored him, tracing the thick vein that ran down the length of his cock, all because some humanoid male required blood circulation in order to achieve an erection. With every stroke she took him deeper into herself, until all that he felt was his nine and a half inches piercing the back of her throat.

Her hands wrap around his balls, cupping them, cradling them, while gently running her nails against their saggy skin. A little moan of pleasure, that was what he wanted to hear; humanoid lips sucking at the base of his cock. Another illogical desire ran through him then. He wanted to see exactly just that, his shaft disappearing as she gagged, sliding back into view, her glistening, organic spit coating him completely. What was it that Saint John had prayed for? A dark night of the soul, if only he could possess a soul; he wanted to feel what an orgasm would be like in a body that was doomed to fall apart, to decay, to burn so bright and so briefly.

He ran his fingers across her naked scalp, the dark skin was deliciously hot to his touch. Sweat, as mysterious to him as a heart beat, beaded across her skull. She had scars. He could feel them with his finger tips, and with feeling he could analyze and judge accurately, where, six and a half years ago, a wicked blade had split the back of her head open, all the way down to her third vertebrae. There were tattoos, a waterfall of semitic ink writing, bursting from the back of her shoulder blades, rising up her neck, the way a tree tries to slowly adsorb the scars left by the woodsman back into itself. The scars and the ink met in a confusion of swirls at the back of her head. Dew-3913 had the sudden impulse to protect those marks, that was proof of her survival in such a hostile world. He tipped his perfectly crafted hips toward her wide-stretched mouth, shoving his cock deeper into her, groaning as he felt her slightly gag. He pulled back slowly, letting her mouth glide over him, her tongue flickering over the bulbous head. He urged himself forward again, pressing back in, pushing as deep as she could take him. A wild, mechanical hum filled her mouth, vibrating her tongue against his cock.

Her fingers curled around his balls, squeezing, as her teeth, calcium in a way he would never know, moved down his cock, faster now, leaving marks. Theoretically his cock could withstand ten-thousand pounds of pressure per square inch before registering irritation. This time he felt her head begin to bob, her mouth slipping, sliding along, making little hungry, choking noises as she went. Dew-3913 thrust back, throbbing deep inside, a rusty mechanical groan filling his throat as his balls tightened in her palm. He had been programmed for such a money shot. His cum was self-generating, endless if a patron so desired. He had left sticky, pink-eyed marks across the faces of thousands, some with two eyes, some with four, all gasping and groaning like fish hooked out of water. His hips bowed once more, matching her bobbing pace, feeling the intensity of a living thing sucking off proto-silicone, growing until the only thing left was his self-awareness and the sloppy, steady rhythm of her mouth swallowing him whole.

One last thrust, he held her there, blitzkrieg bop, his cock buried deep down her throat, her lips, pulsing with blood, stretching wider, wider. His head swam in a hazy mist of circuits and lust, leaving nothing but the sensation of this woman’s lips wrapped around him. He didn’t even know what her name was. His pelvis twitched, he felt himself cumming, that “bionic sperma” that some sales representative, one hundred and sixteen years ago, had come up with during a brain-storming session of Blue Martian cocaine and finger-fucking. Protein spilled against his patron’s tonsils, pooling around her tongue, gushing down her wide-open throat. He felt her lips tighten around him, felt her swallow one pint, then two, felt her mouth suckling on him, milking his body as if somehow he would stop what he started, seeking every last drop until there was nothing more. After three and a half pints of his cum micro-processor flooded her, he shut off before drowning the poor thing in inorganic bodily fluids. Getting one’s stomach pumped as a result of paying for sex was a poor way to advertise, at least that was what the Procuress always said.

As he stood in front of her she bathed him, cleaned him, leaving nothing behind in the wake of her tongue. She had swallowed everything up that he had offered. He was a son she would never know, as if she had been fated to birth a new empire; her puffy, penny-metal lips milking every last drop.

The woman’s finger crawled up his body, leaving bloody finger prints, as if she were pulling wallpaper down from some sacred wall, the way churches fall, dragging his mouth down to hers, the taste of his cum still heavy upon her tongue, sacred thing. Her glorious, full-blooded lips still tingled from the sensation of his cock throbbing.

My cock, he repeated to himself, my cock, was in her mouth … mine.

He kissed her fiercely then, thinking about her lips around him, thinking how unbelievably good it felt, the best sensation he had ever known, and he was a creature who had been designed to only know pleasure.

Laying back, a waterfall of cum slopping down her chin, soaking her shirt, those two nipples jutting out to form islands, pooling in the folds of her hot pants, the woman watched him. It took Dew-3913 a moment to compose himself, to passively stand there, his erect cock just as firm as before. He could keep that pose forever, until his gears rusted. He could keep a hard-on until Judgment Day, if a patron so desired.

“Do you know why I asked for you by name, Lover?” she asked.

“Because I am Dew-3913,” he said. It wasn’t an answer to a question. It was old logic reasserting itself. Of course she asked him by name, he was notorious on the New Angeles Colony, in that bizarre way that only fame can bring when you are paying for it.

July 2018
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