by Megan Hart
Eddie’s fingers closed convulsively on mine. “Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Rando is going to shit bricks, G.”
I let go of Eddie’s hand and turned back to my computer. “I’m not going to tell her.”
“And that guy isn’t going to tell anyone either, right?” Eddie snorted. “He bangs an Op and makes her cream, and he’s not going to brag about it?”
“It’s a federal offense for him too, and he knows it.” I tapped some more keys and spewed more gibberish onto the screen. “He won’t tell.”
“How’d it happen?” Eddie’s voice was quiet. “You’ve been working too hard lately. You need a break.”
“That’s no excuse.”
“Rando will suspend you. Dock your pay. Maybe even—”
“Don’t say it, Eddie. I know.”
Eddie let out low whistle. “Damn, G.”
I turned back to give him a smile I didn’t feel. “I’ll be all right. Rando will never find out, and it won’t happen again.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“Give me your stim-time. You can have my extra dining credits.” I wouldn’t need them. I hate eating in restaurants alone.
Eddie reached over and gave my shoulder a squeeze. “Thanks, G.”
He smelled so good that all at once I leaned forward to kiss him. His lips parted beneath mine in automatic response, and I felt the dart of his tongue in my mouth. He tasted like mint. Delicious.
Eddie reached up to cup my breast through the silk of my uniform. His thumb rubbed across my nipple, making it iron hard in seconds. I sighed and broke the kiss before the ache in my crotch could get any deeper.
“You still got it.” Eddie shifted so I could see the bulge of his erection.
“Yeah, I know.” We grinned at each other, two old friends. “Get out of here.”
I tilted my head to watch his ass work as he walked away, then turned back to my computer. Not surprisingly, I couldn’t concentrate any longer. The kiss I’d given Eddie had my system revved up, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Declan fucking me to orgasm. I needed some stim-time after all.
With the extra stim-time credits from Eddie on my account, I could spend as much time as I wanted in the room. I punched in forty-five on the keypad, and the door hissed shut behind me. I slid out of my uniform and hung it on the hook. I set my boots and belt on the shelf. Naked, I sat on the edge of the cushioned cot that was the room’s only furniture.
“Holo on.” The white walls and floor shimmered around me. “Activate program thirty-one.”
“Records show program customization. Proceed?” The modulated computer voice asked.
I nodded, as I invariably did, even though I knew I was talking to a machine, not a person. “Fine.”
“Customization beginning.”
In another moment the shimmering walls and floor solidified. I was in a café. I wore a light dress of some summery fabric that didn’t really solidify unless I looked directly at it. I sat at a small table on a balcony overlooking the ocean, a blue ocean, which never failed to make me smile. Earth’s one remaining ocean varies in color from red to brown because of the algae farms that provide ninety percent of the world’s food. The blue ocean was a touch of whimsy I’d added after seeing a picture in a history holo.
My mind told me none of this was real, but it was easy enough to believe my eyes, my nose, my ears, my sense of touch. My mind could tell me I sat naked, alone in a white room on a padded platform, but my body told me a different and more interesting story.
“I’m glad you came today.” The man who sat down across from me gave me a smile that seemed genuine enough—if you didn’t know he wasn’t real. “I’ve missed you.”
Holograms can’t be glad, and they can’t miss people. All the same, I returned his smile. “Thanks, Nigel.”
“No tea today?”
I looked down at my empty cup, faintly surprised. Usually the program took care of things like that. “I guess not. Maybe it’s a glitch.”
Nigel stood, his handsome face pulled into a gesture of concern. “I’ll check it out for you.”
I reached for his hand. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t want tea today, anyway.”
He felt solid beneath my fingers. Real. I turned his palm over to stroke the back of his hand, marveling as always at the feeling of hair tickling my fingers.
“I think I know what you do want.” Nigel tugged my hand hard enough to urge me to stand. Without my boots on, my head came only to his chin. I liked that. I liked him, even if he was only a computer-generated fantasy.
“You always do.”
Nigel’s mouth closed on mine. In this program, he always took the lead. It was nice to not have to be the one in charge. He put his arms around me, and his fingers stroked my skin through the wispy dress. I opened my mouth to him, and his tongue darted between my lips.
“The ocean looks so blue today,” he murmured. “Like your eyes.”
I stopped, again faintly surprised. “You never noticed my eyes before.”
“Maybe you never wanted me to notice them before.” Nigel stroked the hair away from my forehead and ran a finger down my cheek. “I like your hair this color.”
I stepped out of his embrace, startled. “It’s violet. The same color it’s been for months.”
He nodded and grinned. “I like it.”
“Halt program!”
“Is something wrong?” asked the computer.
I looked around the white room. Nigel, the café, the ocean, all had vanished at my command. “Run diagnostics.”
A faint whirring sound whispered around me, and the computer spoke again. “Diagnostics complete. What is your malfunction?”
“My holo partner is acting strangely.”
“Essex Corporation cannot be responsible for customized programs. All customized program actions are triggered by subconscious commands linked directly to your specific brain wave function, as it is recorded in our files. Should you believe your program to be malfunctioning, please contact—”
“I know all that.” I ran my hands over my breasts and shivered at the way touching my nipples reverberated in between my legs. I was horny as hell and had to do something about it.
Declan’s face flashed in my mind, and I muttered a curse.
“Command not recognized,” said the computer. “Proceed with program?”
“Yes. Go ahead.”
The wall shimmered again, and Nigel’s face appeared before mine. The balcony, the face, the ocean all appeared too, exactly where they’d been when I’d halted the program.
“I’m glad you came today,” Nigel said. “I missed you.”
I didn’t bother with preliminaries this time. “Kiss me.”
Nigel was always happy to oblige. Frankly, he wasn’t programmed to refuse. He dipped his head to mine and captured my mouth again. He put his hands on my hips, then slid them up to cup my breasts. He ran his thumb across my nipples, all the while kissing me. Kissing me.
His tongue felt so good in my mouth, loving my mouth the way he’d soon love the rest of me. Kissing was a treat, a pleasure, something special and usually forbidden. I might fuck a dozen men or women in one shift’s time, I might have every orifice filled over and over, but I never, ever kissed them. Kissing Nigel got me so hot, so fast.
He pushed me against the waist-high stone wall and ran his tongue along the curve of my jaw, down my neck. He took one nipple in his mouth and suckled it until I cried out. Then he took the other one.
The dress was gone, no longer needed and definitely not wanted. I was naked, exposed to the wind and the sun and the scent of the long dead sea. A breeze, triggered by my subconscious command, blew over the wet spot his mouth left.
I supported myself against the wall with nothing but air behind me, yet I had no fear of falling. I closed my eyes to open myself to the sensations. A gull cried. The waves pounded. Nigel kissed his way down my body until he found my cunt.
I buried my hands in his hair as he put his mouth to me there. I felt his hands on my thighs, urging them to part. I had to brace myself on the wall, and the rough stones scratched my flesh as my fingers tightened when he licked me for the first time.
“That’s good.” My voice didn’t sound like my own. I didn’t care. Nigel didn’t care.
He pressed his thumbs on either side of my already pulsing clit, isolating the button of flesh from the rest of my pussy. His tongue made slow, lazy circles there, firm but delicate strokes, and I began to melt. He kept a rhythm going, slow, but steady.
I spread my legs wider and leaned farther back over the abyss. All that anchored me to the ground was Nigel’s hands and his tongue, licking me, stroking me, fucking me. He paused to blow a puff of air across my wet heat, cooling it.
Declan had done that. I didn’t want to think of him, but his face filled my mind anyway. I was too far gone, too close to coming to force it away.
Nigel’s hands became Declan’s hands, his mouth Declan’s mouth. Declan’s tongue licked at my clit, and his finger slipped inside me.
“More,” I said. With my eyes closed, nothing seemed quite real. Nothing was real, and I didn’t care. It felt too good.
He slid another finger inside me, opening them to stretch me. I moaned. He slid his tongue in feathery strokes down from clit along my labia, and replaced his fingers inside my slit.
I cried Declan’s name, not worried I might hurt Nigel’s feelings. The breeze swept over us, tangling my hair, caressing my body in all the places his hands couldn’t reach. The pounding of the waves became the pounding of my heart, a cacophony of white noise that buzzed in my ears.
I didn’t have to tell Nigel it was time to let me come. With Declan’s face and hands and tongue in my head, I only needed the thought of his cock to finish me off.
I remembered the salty, musky taste of him, and I came.
I made a wordless, moaning cry as the good feeling burst through me. It radiated from my anus, through my inner walls and exploded from my clitoris. My pussy bore down on Nigel’s tongue, clenching and releasing even as he thrust into me harder. I was coming so hard I didn’t even need direct stimulation on my clit.
Declan was fucking me. The man who had made me come the night before, the first man to have done so in ages. The man I wanted to be fucking me, sliding his mouth up my body even as I continued to twitch in the last spasms of climax. The man I wanted to kiss me with the taste of me still on his tongue.
I couldn’t open my eyes. Couldn’t see Nigel, who wasn’t real. Without looking at him or speaking, I turned until I faced the sea.
The stone wall nudged my stomach and felt cold against my aroused heat. I spread my legs and leaned over the wall, offering myself to Declan’s cock.
He pushed into me, the thickness of him like a rod of iron after the soft flexibility of his tongue. I mouthed his name again, in a voiceless whisper this time.
He put his hands on my hips to steady his thrusts. He didn’t pound me, nor did he tease. He just fucked me, steady and slow, then faster. Just the way I wanted it. Needed it. Craved it.
My orgasm built again, though slower this time. I clutched the stone wall. Strands of my violet hair fell across my face and obscured my vision of the ocean. I tossed them away. I wanted to see my whimsy.
He put one hand on my shoulder and kept the other on my hip. His thrusting became a little ragged, a little sporadic. His breathing told me he was getting close. I wasn’t close enough.
“Stroke my clit.” I whispered the words, not ordered.
He took his hand from my hip and rested his fingers on my clitoris. I jumped at the contact. Just his direct touch on my sensitized flesh had me tumbling toward climax again.
He thrust and he stroked in perfect counterpoint. I bent low over the wall, my hair falling into empty space, my eyes wide.
He thrust again, one last time, and my orgasm burst through me. I said his name one last time. I came that way, calling his name and staring at the sea I’d created.
“Gemma, my office. Now.” Captain Rando didn’t bother with pleasantries even when she was in a good mood. Judging by the look on her face, today wasn’t one of those days.
Usually I left the stimroom with my body relaxed and my mind calm. Not this time. Though I’d experienced two explosive orgasms, my body still tingled with unsatisfied longings. Declan’s face in my head left me uncomfortable and jumpy.
Rando jerked her thumb at the silver-colored orb on her desk. “This was delivered here for you half an hour ago.”
I forced my fingers not to tremble as I lifted the lightweight plaz ball and pressed the button on its side. With a small whirring sound a tiny slit opened in the top. The next instant the image of twelve perfect red roses was projected from the orb. They looked real, even down to the drops of dew on the petals, and a second later, the delicious scent of roses wafted to my nose.
“Someone paid a lot of money for those.” Rando rocked back in her chair. “No card. Any idea who your secret admirer might be?”
I kept my face impassive as I shrugged, but my heart began to thud like an out-of-control Mohanian drum band. “No, sir, I don’t.”
Rando crossed her arms over her ample chest and frowned. “Boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Girlfriend?”
I shook my head. “No, sir.”
“Gemma—” Rando sighed, and her fierce demeanor softened for a minute. “How long have you been with R.I.O.?”
I didn’t even have to think. “Six years, seven months, two weeks, three days.”
“I guess that proves your internal clock is set.” Rando gave me a penetrating look. “In all that time, I’ve never known you to take a lover.”
“No time for it, sir.” I pushed the flower orb’s button and the flowers disappeared.
“It’s not against department policy. As long as you keep it off-duty, you can date whoever you like. Even get married.” Rando lifted the square viewscreen so I could see my own name flashing there. “You’ve had an exemplary record, Gemma.”
“Thank you.” I knew what was coming next, and I braced myself for it.
“There’s been some reports of Ops making assignations during duty. Using the inspection stations for dates, that sort of thing.”
“I’ve heard the same rumors, sir.”
“You know that can’t be allowed.” Rando barked a command, and the viddy screen filled with a familiar face. “Howard Adar’s been whipping the Ruling Council into a frenzy about misuse of Pleasurebots, Newcity funds, and a bunch of other crap I don’t even want to think about.”
Howard Adar spoke directly to the camera, his words coming on the tail of Rando’s speech. “I’m not saying they have no rights. But let’s ask ourselves, who can we trust? Bots are made to work and serve, they’re not given brains to think. There’s a reason for that. Humans are born with the ability to reason and think. But what about those who—”
She hit the mute button and shook her head. “You know what I’m talking about. You haven’t filed a report on your last dutytime. Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”
I shook my head, which had begun to pound in time with my heartbeat. “I’ll have it on your desk within the hour, Captain.”
“Gemma.” Rando pointed to the florb I clutched. “If something did happen to any of my Ops while they were on duty, it’s my responsibility to take appropriate action. Even if I don’t want to. The mandate has come down from the top office. We have an epidemic of malfunctioning Passion Models out there, and the death toll is rising. Not to mention the other myriad of bot problems the factories can’t seem to fix. We can’t afford to have Ops using dutytime to get off. We don’t have the luxury of making mistakes.”
“I understand, Captain.” I understood, all right. If Rando found out I’d let myself be seduced by a fleshboy while on duty, it wouldn’t matter whether or not I’d done it on purpose.
Rando used the stylus to
scroll through my file. She looked at me again over the tops of the glasses she kept for show, not need, since laser surgery had become standard requirement to be part of R.I.O. Even through the lenses, her gaze burned me.
“Gemma, when’s the last time you took a day off?”
“Day Five is my usual day off, sir.”
Rando made a noise in her throat. “Shows here you punched in on Day Five. And the Day Five before that too.”
I studied the florb in my hands. “I had to follow up on a case.”
Rando sighed. “Gemma. It’s not illegal for you to take some time off. Your records show you haven’t even taken your allotted vacay. You get six weeks now. Why?
I shrugged. “No place to go.”
“In six whole years?” Rando rapped her knuckles on the desktop. “Surely some place has tempted you. Solaria? Aquafier?”
She’d named two of the hottest vacay spots within warpjump range. “No, sir. I like it here.”
“On Earth.”
“Yes.”
She looked like she might want to say something else, but didn’t. “Dismissed.”
I thanked her and left the room, holding the florb away from my body like it might explode if I touched it. When I got to my cubicle I tossed it in the can, but hesitated before pushing the button that would evaporate it. For reasons I couldn’t explain and didn’t want to think about, I pulled it back out and slipped it into my shoulder bag.
I finished typing the report, surprised at how easily the lies flew from my fingers and onto the computer screen. Must’ve been the stim-time. I E’d it to Rando, then sat back in my chair. My monitor swirled through a series of pictures. All sun, all sand. All places I couldn’t bring myself to visit ever again.
The report wasn’t my only foray into untruth today. I’d also lied when I told Captain Rando I didn’t want to go anywhere. There were, in fact, days when the stink of exhaust and haze-covered sky had me wanting to scream. Days when the taste of man-made water choked me. I did want to get away, to see a clear sky and warm sun, to put my feet in warm sand. To see a real ocean.
I couldn’t. I’d been on vacay on Solaria when the accident happened. One minute I’d been speeding along a dry sand road, the next thing I knew, I woke up in hospital with a body that looked like something from a factory that had gone out of business. I couldn’t go to any of those places again, those places where smiling waitrons kept bringing free pills and drinks, and one second of misplaced attention could end your life.
