“Your coffee. Milk and sugar?”
“Thank you. No, I’ll drink it plain.”
I drank it plain and hot. Then I was ready for my first true inner soliloquy.
Chapter One-Hundred-And-Two
Hello, I.
—Ready.—
How can I address you—me?
—Determine a symbol at own discretion. Last usage—Ghost.—
Ghost is fine. Okay, Ghost. Are you an Artificial Intelligence?
—This component is only able for independent actions within the boundaries of its programming and does not own a conscience by human standards. The correct interpretation of the host consciousness’s thoughts is ensured by the integration.—
You can read my mind?
—This unit is an inseparable part of your mind.—
Ugh.
Inseparable?
Well. One step after another. What is nano fever?
—Nano fever—a physical rejection reaction against the foreign essence. The essence is programmed to avoid this rejection. Self-diagnosis result—no rejection.—
Oh. Good. What is an Analogy?
—Analogy—a concept to make the essence’s integration imaginable. With advanced familiarization it is possible to visit the functional units like a pattern of rooms, analogous to a virtual reality.—
Cool. How do I know when it’s ready?
—This perception will automatically appear with increasing mental familiarization.—
Okay, checked. Which functional restrictions apply?
—No functional restrictions apply. Self-diagnosis detected an erroneous coding of limitations that weren’t plausible and thus were discarded. All functions are principally available.—
If I now would know what functions there are…no, my list first. What’s the status of the signature, and what is it?
—Signature is active. The signature allows bearers of essence to locate each other and communicate with each other.—
Wow. Oops. Are any other active signatures in range?
—No signatures detectable.—
How large is the range anyway?
—No data available.—
Fine. That was my brief checklist.
—The self-diagnosis protocol is available and contains decision items.—
Well then, let me hear.
—Analogy—completely integrated. Signature—active. Essence—Excess of specialized nano agents for Analogy found. Shall these be transformed into unspecific essence?—
Would they be useful in specific form? If yes, what for?
—No. This Analogy has reached its maximum capacity.—
Then transform.
—The host body is damaged. There’s no acute endangerment. Shall a healing process be initiated?—
By and by I found out how that thing worked. No, how I worked. Which body parts are damaged?
—Poorly healed large-area damage to the skin from blunt injuries and cuts. Missing clitoral hood and labia. Incompletely reconstructed clitoris. Incompletely reconstructed papillae. List further minor damages?—
No. How does the healing process work?
—Nano agents perform a rebuild of the affected tissue according to basic genetic information and replace missing tissue from the body’s nutritive supplies.—
Cool. So I can completely heal?
—Yes, as long as sufficient nutrients can be supplied. Provided that the controlling essence remains available.—
Great. How long does such a healing process take?
—Depending on damage and nutrient supply from a few minutes up to several days.—
Well, in my case. What about my supplies? I’ve just had a meal.
—Nutrient supplies suffice for fifty-seven percent of the healing process. This would take two hours fourteen minutes.—
And am I unconscious during the process?
—No.—
Is the process visible?
—During healing of the outer skin a golden blur will become visible.—
Good. Then start with the covered parts, and I will eat and drink more. Later I’ll pull up the blanket, and then we do the arms. Next protocol item?
—No further decision items.—
Even better. Then do it and let me think.
Chapter One-Hundred-And-Three
I don’t know what I must have looked like when I had contact to my nano essence’s help component for the first time. Probably I grinned like a cat who’s stolen the dog’s bone. In any case, the stewardess left me alone after she had brought me the second serving and a chocolate bar from the duty free trolley.
I had been sure that this substance, which I simply had injected into my veins, wouldn’t harm me. If it should have, the chit would have read differently. The passage automatic activation upon injection had told me enough about this substance’s purpose. That it had to be something good in principle followed from its source—I didn’t have to expect biological war agents in the Dragon laboratories.
However, that this stuff would right away begin to repair my mutilated pussy, that rocked! My crotch prickled somewhat, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Rather the opposite—I had to restrain myself not to reach under my dress. It was surely not advisable to masturbate a body part in the process of reconstruction. It was probably also not advisable to satisfy oneself more or less publicly, even under a blanket.
My back prickled somewhat, too, my nipples, all places where I knew the whip’s welts, and a few places I hadn’t been aware of. Wow—that alone had made the self-experiment worthwhile! That alone had made the delicate burglary worthwhile.
In my opinion, I deserved the result. I hadn’t deserved what Dandy had done to me, and now I was somewhat even with fate. Somehow, I couldn’t find any guilty feeling in me.
When I woke up, I felt weakened, as if I just had run a marathon. That didn’t worry me, as I no longer felt my back. No, of course I still felt it, but I no longer felt the hardened whip scars. Wonderful!
Sneakily, I pushed one hand under my dress underneath the blanket. I didn’t like pinching edgings, so I didn’t wear underpants, and that made it easy for me to reach for my labia. Whole! I also found my clitoral hood, and of course the little pink button underneath.
I felt happy as never before in my life. Fantastic!
There was this plucking in my head again. Hello, Ghost.
—Status—Nutrients dangerously low. Replenishment necessary.—
Around me other travelers had woken up, too. The stewardess came closer. “Would you like to have breakfast?”
“Two, if possible. I’m ravenous.”
“I’ll see what I can do for you.”
Some fellow travelers appeared to want to skip breakfast. So there’d surely be one left, perhaps?
Hello, Ghost, replenishment is on the way, I focused my thought.
—This information was already registered from your conversation.—
Ah. So I don’t have to think of everything explicitly?
—This control unit has access to all your perceptions and permanently uses them to assess and maintain your performance. Only extended functions have to be requested expressly.—
Like, for example?
—Is a function list requested?—
Well—I can’t go anywhere. Go on.
—Basic functions. Reanimation. Immediate healing of potentially lethal injuries and open wounds, if necessary at the expense of physical reserves. Healing of further severe damage depends on available free nutritive supplies. Light damages are healed on request.—
Reanimation? That means, if someone kills me, I’ll stand up again?
—Yes.—
Dragon cool. Go on.
—Pain impulses that compromise the host’s ability to act are automatically muted. The damage information is maintained. Other pain signals can completely be muted on request.—
Who would need that? It sounded like an attribute for fighters. Ah—of course! This substance must have
been meant for the infantry, which now was traveling to space with the Dragon empress. For these people it was surely useful, too, to always know by their signatures where their fellows were.
So that was why Zoe had skipped this laboratory during her tour. She had already long planned her departure—and I had walked right through her preparations!
Go on.
—Toxins and intoxicating substances of all kind are automatically metabolized and changed into harmless substances. This expressly also applies to alcohol, unless instructed otherwise.—
Aha—never again a hangover, right? But no booze of forgetfulness either. No, I wouldn’t miss that. Go on.
—The immune defense is improved. In severe cases, specific antigens are synthesized.—
Ingenious. Never again become sick? No. Never again stay sick, right? Go on.
—The organism can be adapted to different environmental conditions. This includes an improved insulation against low temperatures, a more robust outer skin and the option to breathe a modified air mixture.—
Under water, too?
—The change to gill breathing is possible as extended function. All extended functions require experience in handling the Analogy, so these functions are blocked.—
Is that related to these restrictions?
—An erroneous coding of limitations was discarded during integration. There is no principal restriction. For the host’s protection the accidental and uncontrolled use is blocked.—
I was quite curious about these extended functions, but I didn’t even know all the basic functions. Go on.
—Comfort functions. Digestion and the urge to urinate can be suppressed, if necessary. Visible signs of sexual arousal can be suppressed or supported.—
Stop. Suppressed—clear. In the middle of a battle a soldier needs no hard-on. But supported? What does that mean?
—Initiation and sustaining of the erection of the male phallus, the female clitoris and nipples. Triggering of the male ejaculation. Triggering of the female lubrication.—
What? Men can just so—whack—shoot their load?
—Yes.—
And if I wanted to become wet now?
—Is lubrication desired now?—
Not now. Nevertheless—mega Dragon cool, especially in my job. And that counted as comfort function? Go on.
—Female menstruation can be deactivated. Connected with it is a sterilization until reversal.—
Really? I want that!
—Shall this procedure be executed now?—
Yes, absolutely. Another idea came to my mind. What about the clap or AIDS?
—Completed—The transmission of sexual diseases is prevented like any other disease. Immune defects are repaired.—
Sterile and immune—so I could fuck without rubber from now on? I always wanted to know how it felt. Of course that question was raised frequently in my business, but only desperate girls would agree to unprotected intercourse, in my opinion at least.
More comfort functions?
—Body hair can be controlled individually. Is armpit hair desired?—
No. Don’t need that.
—Shall it be removed now?—
Yes, go on.
—Completed. Is pubic hair desired?—
Yes. Men liked my dark pussy as it was. I liked to tease them with my dark bush showing through pale clothes—and if someone peeked under my skirt. Only inside the groins, please. Oh—and I don’t need any dark bristles on my tits or even facial hair.
—Completed.—
Anything else?
—Protection against damage of teeth and gums. Controlled growth of toe- and fingernails.—
Now we’re getting lost in detail. But I also listened to the rest of the little details until we finally descended for our arrival in Frankfurt.
Part Ten—Home
Chapter One-Hundred-And-Four
My home country welcomed me with uncomfortable autumn weather. I briefly mused if I’d be fine with my bicycle jersey. The temperature was at the margin—then I remembered my new acquisition. No, I wouldn’t catch a cold.
At the airport exit I briefly stopped to change my sandals for the clip-pedal shoes, then I put on the backpack and mounted my bicycle.
A hundred meters later I dismounted again. How could I leave this area without using a road forbidden for bikes? After several attempts I found a taxi driver who looked as if he’d speak enough German to understand my question, and who gave me the advice to pedal toward Schwanheim in exchange for a smile.
From there, I found my way along the river Main to the city and to my wellness center. I didn’t know the guard at the door, who gave me and my wet, semitransparent jersey a critical look, but Lydia quickly came dashing from behind the counter.
“Jo!”
She stopped hardly long enough to call out, “Jakob, take the bike to the back” and allow me to drop my backpack, then she was hugging me firmly.
“Jo! Great that you’re back! How are you?”
“I’m great. Hey—I’m making you soaking wet!”
“I’ve been waiting for that long enough,” she joked. “Come with me.”
“Wait.”
Jakob was just coming back and took the backpack. I quickly slipped out of the shoes and pushed them under the net on the lid. Then I followed the woman whom I might call my friend, if I had any in Germany. She had assumed Dora’s succession as the center manager, even if she herself was still active. I knew that from my brief call.
“I wouldn’t have thought that you’d come back,” she said over her shoulder while heading for the staff room. “After your study, all doors should be open to you, shouldn’t they?”
That would be any burglar’s dream, wouldn’t it? “I got three offers, and they were all immoral.”
Lydia laughed. “So what? As long as the price is right, that’s okay.”
“I don’t have issues with men who want sex and say so. I have issues with men who say that they want my brains, but are after my pussy.”
“Oh. Well. Nice that you give us a visit. Do you already have a place? Otherwise, you can stay with us tonight.” She pointed at a chair. “Coffee?”
“Gladly. I’d hoped to start working for you again.”
Her finger paused over the espresso maker’s button. “I’ve heard from Eva that you’ve been out for a while. Excuse me that I’ve never called—the time lag and all, you know? You were injured.”
“Yes. It was unpleasant. But the reports were surely exaggerated.” I knew what she was up to. She had the same problem as Rosie—the clients wanted beautiful women and no visible torture marks. It was pointless to discuss the issue with Lydia. Instead I simply undressed from the wet jersey, in which I didn’t feel comfortable anyway.
“You’ve been mutilated,” she felt her way forward.
“Correct. That’s been bad, but I’m repaired. Want to have a look?” I raised one leg and pulled my labia apart, so that she could see my clit.
Lydia only gave it a brief glance. “Oh, it’s okay. And in your head?”
“That bastard is dead. I’ve gotten over it. Although—I don’t know what I’d do if someone held a knife between my legs again.”
She shivered. “I don’t want to imagine that. Okay.” Finally she started the coffee. “You’re looking really good, Jo. If you honestly want to work here, you’re welcome. What parameters?”
“You know me. I’ll do almost everything if the client is okay.”
“Good.” For a moment, she cocked her head in thought, then she handed me my coffee. “In fact, I can really use someone like you. I have a lot of newcomers—pretty, willing, motivated, but inexperienced. You could show them how to treat demanding clients.”
“Oh. Sure.”
Chapter One-Hundred-And-Five
Once Lydia had left me alone with my coffee, I pondered her last remark. So she had a lot of inexperienced new staff who couldn’t appropriately serve demanding clients. What did that give away
about her business?
First, that she had enough undemanding clients who were happy with a pretty and willing girl. That wasn’t the concept I knew before. Second—demanding clients still existed, but not enough experienced staff to serve them. Or was the experienced staff no longer presentable enough?
In Lydia, I could see the future development. Sports helped her to remain fit and crisp, but no exercise could prevent the pull of gravity—the tits sagged down, the skin showed wrinkles. Lydia was a woman at her best age, who still had an attractive body, but she no longer looked like a twentyish girl, with rosy labia and firm apples—unlike the young blonde who’d just entered the staff room in her birthday suit. She briefly examined me, and, as I didn’t wear any clothes, she quickly and fittingly accepted me as staff.
“Hello,” she welcomed me. “Who are you?”
“Jo. Hello, and who are you?”
“Kat. Actually Katrin, but here I’m just Kat.”
“Suits you. You move like a cat.”
“They all say that. You’re Jo. New here?”
“I’ve been in Australia for a few years. Before that, I worked here.”
She paused and eyed me again. “Pre-war goods, eh? For that, you’re looking really good.”
“Thanks. I keep my shape.”
“Sports? Lydia recommended that, too. I’m doing a lot of gymnastics. The clients like that.”
“Why?”
“Ah. You probably don’t know that. We have a small sports hall next to the client café. There we can do our exercises, of course in the nude. That’s well regarded.” She took a mineral water. “May I join you? What sports are you doing?”
“Running, biking, swimming. And martial arts.”
“Self defense? We all do that here. Sometimes I also run a bit. Perhaps we can go together sometime? What distances do you run?”
“Thirty kilometers, three times a week.”
“Thirty?” Kat was amazed. “You train for marathon, or what?”
“Ironman.”
Very slowly the wheels in her head clicked. “Ironman. Foreign country. Pre-war. Jo. Short for Johanna?”
Loser Page 22
