Title: ATOZ GIFT
Author: R.Schultz ( cousindream@aol.com )
Series: TOS
Pairing Code: Zarabeth/F/Andrea ("What are little girls made of?")
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Things Trek belong to Paramount and ViaBorgCom. I am borrowing some of their sadly thrown-away children and letting them have a vacation day and good sex. They will be returned sexually satisfied. This story is mine under common-law copyright. December, 2001, 11,600 words long.
Summary: Atoz brought back the thousands of exiled prisoners to give many of them a choice of where they would spend the remainders of their lives. As Atoz was in reality the planetary computer mind of his planet, he could play games with time like that. There was never a flesh-and-blood Atoz for Kirk, McCoy and Spock to mess with. Only convincing constructs. Once our intrepid adventurers had gone, Atoz blinked back and forth in time until he had rescued these time exiles. Including Zarabeth. Now Zarabeth was living on her planet a few dozen days before destruction. At the same time she is living in the here and now, she has yet to meet McCoy and Spock in the Ice Age. Confused? She is trying to decide on her future home, trying to prepare for her new exile.
Warning: This is TrekSmut, and no underage American may enter here. Neither may those whose locale or nation forbids you entry to TrekSmut. Your masters know best what you may be allowed to read. This story portrays love and lust between adult (fictional) women. You don't like the idea I suggest you read elsewhere. If the idea doesn't appeal to you, hit the OFF switch, and leave. Shoo!
POSTED!!! to the Femme Fuh-Q Fest, a depraved melange of writers of F/F fiction, and later to the ASCEM. May be achieved elsewhere, but please notify.
Comments to: cousindream@aol.com
NOTICE: This story is being posted to the FFF fiction group Round IV, but as it is being posted late, it is not eligible for any Silver Labia Awards. Thank you for considering it.
by R.Schultz
This story is dedicated to the person who asked for it, Hypatia. (athena_sappho on Yahoo.com)
It wasn't completely dark, here, on the second floor of the Department Store. The big windows on the ground floors were letting in plenty of light. And light was leaking upstairs via the dead escalators and stairwells. I could even make out the once-disturbing bulk of a POLICE figure. Dead now, with the appropriate net destroyed. As useless as the future of this planet.
I wish to hell I hadn't lost my disrupter in the museum, back where this bastard jumped me. He didn't even notice, when he tried to capture me there.
So here I lay, behind a counter, in the dark. Holding an eleven centuries old nobleman's knife and feeling very scared and stupid.
Atoz had said he had sent the criminal-class exiles to times where they could have little effect on the planetary future. He said most males were relocated to a few deserted sub-continents in our past. Very lush and habitable. The few females in the criminal class went to another lush locale -- the mainstream of our humanity.
However, in these last days before our sun went Nova, things had become chaotic.
Which was why I was jammed into this dark department store. Just trying to survive. Which was ironic.
The Police Net's were disabled by rioters and saboteurs. At the same time they were careful to leave the Atavachron centers alone. They wanted their escape routes to remain functioning until the last second. In the meantime they intended to loot and steal from the vanished owners.
The Militia center was looted of their weapons. The Republican Reserves were looted of it's gold and other precious metals. They used some armored fighting vehicles from the Militia Center to pry open parts of the Reserve. Messy but effective.
The Museum's and Bank's were likewise split open. A lot of people must have figured on going back into the past personally rich.
They're not the only ones. I might have been a political exile, and by definition a thief and an opportunist. But I wasn't stupid. My pockets were going to be full of something when I went back. I'd sooner die, I had thought, rather than go back into a strange land poor as grass.
I'd discounted the possibility of criminals appearing spontaneously in this modern world. Especially rapists.
For fourteen years my femininity had consisted of nothing but female troubles and female curses. Though I'd gotten horny as hell when McCoy and Spock showed up, that's for sure.
God on a plate, Spock had taken me the one time and I must have come four times. When they left I came back to my cave and masturbated for hours, between crying bouts.
Being female hadn't struck me as much of anything for a time exile to be happy about. It was just a millstone about my neck.
The bastard was closer, I could hear him trying to be quiet as he prowled. Sonofabitch rapist. I didn't give myself good odds the way this was going. He'll stay up here. And he wants me. He probably rightfully figures I've got goods it'd be worth his while for him to steal from me. Ditched and hidden right now, but still a nice fat nest egg if I survived this.
His agenda probably includes beating me up a little, for making him exert himself the way he already had. A few dozen leisured rapes interspersed with more beatings. Then make me die painful and slowly. At the end my body would be covered by flies who didn't realize our planet was due to be turned into a toasty cinder.
Damned bastard. Like the rabbit song though; "Only if you catch me." I held a little tighter to my ornate antique knife.
Suddenly this figure was looming over me. Unfortunately he could probable make me out, even in this darkness. The next thing I knew I was up and running, dead all-out champion driven running. I didn't even worry about stumbling in the trash of the aisles, or whether I could make it outdoors. I just ran like hell.
In seconds I was on the street, jumping obstacles, weaving, pelting hard down bare straight stretches, looking hard for weapons or places to conceal myself. I never once looked behind, I just ran full out.
I knew exhaustion would mean the end, but I could see no alternative.
Until I happened to notice I was seeing river off to my right. It was city Centre over to my right. And the city dock.
A long stretch of straight river yard, maybe seven blocks long. Dockyard built over the river itself. There must be thousands of square Ord's of dark river under those docks. Places to hide, and I could swim good.
My legs could carry me for a while, but I wondered if my lungs could. I hadn't had much practice in running the past dozen years. Hunting, yeah, ice fishing, yeah, bear skin clothing manufacture, yeah. Field and track, no.
I'd switched to a curving road heading down to the docks, and my pursuer had probably grasped what I was aiming for.
Ironic. I'd grown up my daddy's wealthy pet. Then Silverland University knew me as a Literature expert and Anthropologist. Then I'd been a bright-eyed revolutionary. Then an ice-age hunter. It seemed so long ago that I thought I was superior to most everyone else. Now I was a damned criminal's victim.
Not if I could help it. I'd gotten accustomed to being a survivor.
If he overtook me, I'd roll over as he grabbed me. He'd get the point of this damned nobleman's jeweled treasure of a knife first. He wouldn't be expecting that, I decided.
If I could only breathe. If I could make the docks.
It took me a few seconds to understand someone had stepped out of a doorway in front of me.
They had a bow and arrow.
They were pulling the bow back with an arrow strung on it.
I was dead.
When they let it go I fell to my left, rolling in the street, springing up in order to rush the archer. I haven't been struck, the arrow had missed, maybe I can slash the archer in passing. Then continue on to the docks.
I was up and rushing them, when it came to me they had rushed past me. I probably should have continued running, but I HAD to slow and look behind me.
The archer had a slightly curved sword and had it in my pursuer. He was thrashing on the roadway, and he also had an arrow in him. He was grasping that long sword, trying to remove it. It was pinning him to the road, and the archer was wide-legged and leaning far forward with the sword. The archer making sure the sword sunk into him and stayed there while the criminal thrashed in some active death throes.
I hope I never hear again the sort of pained whining my would-be rapist was giving out. He was cutting his hands grasping the sword, trying to push it out of himself. I'd heard a wagon-Lurl cry like that when it had been disemboweled by a bomb fragment. I'd never realized before how horribly a man could die. Despite the terrible things he had undoubtedly intended to do to me before he killed me, I cried salt tears at his pains.
In minutes I stood above the struggling pair, realizing at last that the archer who had saved my life was another female. She stayed leaning into her sword, making sure it stayed in him, pinning him. Killing him. And still the bad guy whined. I realized then that no one deserved to die this way. It wasn't until that night I realized I had in my hand an instrument capable of shortening his agony. I had my knife.
After I had finished vomiting in the gutter, the woman -- some years older than me -- was wiping her saber clean on a part of his clothes.
"Well," she said, "come on and help me strip him. I'll give you half of everything we glean off this carrion. I'll take the spoils back to my island .... You WILL come back with me to my island, won't you?
"I'd enjoy the company .... You're probably trying to get a meal ticket before you cross over Mister Atoz' little threshold, aren't you? Well, so am I. This little carrion beetle must have his own mobile treasure, which he must have wanted to carry across with him to a new life. Now it's ours, and I'll share fifty-fifty with you. Okay?"
In the end she stripped him naked. He might have goodies anywhere on him, she pointed out. In order to illustrate this she dug at his asshole with a knife until she had extracted a tube.
"Dope or diamonds," she predicted. It was then I realized she also was wearing a neck flip, like the ones I had seen on the TriVid's off my once-upon-a-time home age. She saw me looking and pulled it out for me to see. She was Police.
She explained she was just organic supervisory staff, nothing special Still, it meant she had the right to terminate criminals if anyone did, in these last few planetary moments.
The dead criminal had no name we could tell, and Valerie -- Val -- was in no mind to give his remains a decent burial. It was already drawing insects and she said it would probably draw the attention of humanoid carrion shortly.
On the river she had a small cabin-style motor-boat with most of it open to the sky. It had a large trash-wall panel drug over it as disguise and an ugly-beautiful guard dog eager to see it's mistress again. Val lifted a big door set in the trashy dock surface, and we took some rungs down into the dark, in order to get in the boat.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Her island wasn't much, except for the three dogs that patrolled it. Come rainy season in the fall it was evidently submerged. Mountain melt as the planet got warmer was probably going to submerge it in a few weeks. By then everyone should be gone.
As she removed her own blood spattered clothes, it suddenly occurred to me that it had been a long, long, long, time since I had a woman in my bed. I had to look .... Be honest, I stared. There was no way I could avoid staring. She was beautiful to me.
Val noticed I was staring. Drooling. Obsessed. She made her unveiling a kind of clumsy dance, dancing to the internal beat of my sudden overpowering lust. I wanted her.
The hell with that. I NEEDED her.
Maybe anything alive and female probably could have turned my sex-starved head. Maybe alive was only an option. Maybe a convincing cross-dresser could have had a slave for life, meaning me. Or at least for the night.
I had closed the distance between us, and I caressed her older and lovely shoulders. I cringed inwardly to think of the explosion that would spill all over me once Val realized I wanted to have sex with her. Mad, mad, mad, mad SEX!
Valerie was grinning, rubbing her own hands over mine as I tentatively caressed parts of her where it wasn't obscene for another woman to touch, or fondle.
"You like girls?" she gently asked, not objecting as my caresses extended to her side and hip, her neck and her belly. "I like girls too," I replied.
She turned, presenting her mouth for my nervous first kiss. Her mouth was so ... So .... Delicious.
She held one hand and let me explore the enticing thatch of white-gray hair between her legs. I started with gentle journeys of my fingers over it's curly forest. I was quickly masturbating this smaller, older woman. Rejoicing as her groin became moist, then wet.
Above that we kissed. We kissed soft, then hard, then with noises of groaning and acceptance.
It had been so very long since I had kissed a willing woman, I was dumbstruck. What should I do, how should I do it? Start by probing with the tongue tip. That sounded right. It seemed to work, also. Valerie opened her mouth to me, she gave her tongue tip to me. When she came, in the next minute, she groaned loudly, and desperately held my fingers inside her.
Her fingertips held tight to me through my pants when I came. That was all the trigger I needed. I danced from one foot to the other as I worked my hips into those old strong hands.
I collapsed onto the ground, jerking, spastic, desperate to do other things with this most desirable of all women. The hard part seemed to be getting me out of my clothes. For a few seconds I thought I'd need to be cut out of them. Eventually Valerie discovered all the essential buttons, zippers and slides. My halter was the last off, and I got red-faced to think of the little big-nippled paps I had. They were all there was of me there, and though my nipples were now sitting on a growth of hard rubbery breast, I'd always wished there was some way I could have grown bigger breasts.
The bigger, soft, billowy breasts on Valerie drew my attention immediately. She let me roll her onto her back, in the deep summer grass of that small island. She smiled down on me as I took as much of her nippled breast as I could into my mouth. I suckled and suckled, dying with that giving flesh where I could suck on it, nibble at her nipples, work on the hard ball back of her nipple.
I wanted to travel downward, past her belly to her crotch, but I could not force myself to leave those generous moveable treasures.
God, but this old broad made me hot!
Okay, so maybe she sagged in a lot of places. I wasn't a young virgin either. And the way she was chewing hard on my nipples told me my small breasts weren't much of a liability in her eyes.
I think I'm going to .... Urghhaa .... Yes, yes, yes, I remember now the way sometimes my belly got so hard and hot and full of waves of funny almost-fire and her fist is on my pubic hair and just that is .... Is ....
Yes, yes, the ride to the top of the hill, her fingers just touch my clit and my bush is so sensitive and the movement of her fist and just to touch my pussy with her fingers ....
It's ....
Soooo goood .... and it's pulling me over ....
Over!
I crash down, I can't buck my hips fast enough, it's hurting in trails in my belly ...
.... her thumb finally finds the hard nub of my clit .... and it's still happening as I roll down the hill and my sex is totally apart from the rest of me
from me is irrelevant. Only my sex exists ....
.......
God! was that good. Had it really been so many years since I'd had sex with a woman? Yeah, yes it had. For almost two years while I was a dedicated revolutionary, I'd spurned any form of sex. What a stupid jerk I had been. Oh, what a goddamned fool I was!
How many times in that Ice cave had I lain at night, masturbating to memories of my past very, very few nights of sex. Until I didn't even bother dreaming, or masturbating any more.
It had been that big brunette with the big soft tits and the tendency to babble whenever I had eaten her. She I remembered the longest and the best.
She I had thrown over in order to prove to myself how motivated and revolutionary I was.
Asshole, asshole, asshole. Those breasts were sooooo beautiful.
Had I really thrown it all over for politics? Why couldn't I have continued to fuck like a vast herd of horny animals at the same time I was a dedicated political fool? What a fucking idiot I had been. I realized I hadn't ever checked up on what ever happened to our cell or the glorious Necessary Revolution. I didn't care.
Fuck the Necessary Revolution. About the eight thousandth fish I caught and ate during my time exile in the ice age, I think I lost any interest in political things.
"God, I needed that!" I whispered in Valerie's ear, after my cum's. The sex I'd just had with this woman was real. The impending Nova was real. The Necessary Revolution was a load of Lurl manure.
We kiss, more slowly now. But it still only takes a few minutes for me to recover and become active again.
I rolled Valerie over on her back. It was amazing how sexy her short-cropped hair-do was. A hair-do imparts an air to a woman when you're fucking her. It imparts a sense of who she is. It wears the woman sometimes. Gray imparts a look of .... calm. She looks so soft and yielding. Yet she also looks like she is not controlled by having sex, but thinks a good come is her right.
She looks like she is always going to be in control of her life. Strong. Caring. Capable.
She was a natural butch, and a soft one at that.
"Valerie," I whisper, my hands tracing through her crotch hair, the back of a hand tracing back and forth on her soft woman's belly. It feels natural and right to cup her breasts and tease her nipples into cones for me to easily suck. I nibble her nipples, she tells me to bite harder, and I do.
"Harder," she cries again. My fingernails scratch lines back and forth on her belly and her thighs and her sides. I go back to nibble at her neck and chin, leaving wet licking's down the base of her throat. She scudders in a groan as my fingers precede me, light lines being torture to her as I lick down to her belly button and then beyond.
I can hesitate no longer. How many times did I think of the scents and tastes of a wet woman, when I was exiled? Until I had forgotten anything I remembered about a woman, or even a man.
Sex no longer existed. But I had burst into instant fire the second my exile opened to Spock, first of all. Then Atoz gave me the gift of life again.
I'd needed to live. Atoz returned me to it.
Life means now. Not tomorrow, for tomorrow might never come. I crouched over a woman as full of lesbian need as I was. She was nude, her nipples were dark pebbles, her arms caressed me. Her legs opened to me. I could smell the raw rank taste in the air of her need. My need.
I had waited .... sixteen years? .... to lean forward and drown myself in a woman's wet lust.
Valerie slid a large soft storage bag under hips and I died in her warm wet readiness.
She tasted sharp, very sharp, very bleachy and smooth, briney. Then all that vanished as she continued to wet my face and my tongue as I found the seat of all her flavors.
She tasted beautiful, she tasted complete, her pussy gave me the taste of woman coming.
So creamy, so rich, so tasty, she tasted beautiful and I wallowed all my face in her texture and loveliness.
Her cries filled my ears as she lifted her knees into the cold evening chill, as she pushed my head deeper into her groin. Rubbing my nose into her delightfully hard clit, myself lying not-quite buried in the soft mystery of her groin.
God, she tasted good!
It had been such a long, long, long time. I had died of thirst, but now I drowned myself alive.
She rolled off the bag after she came three more times on my face and tongue and rubbing and probing fingers. Her childish squeals were such music to my ears. Her comes were so marvelous to my thirsty taste buds.
I could have spent the entire night eating her, sore neck be damned. She begged off, and with shaky knees and arms flipped me on my back. With some work she got the now wet bag underneath me. Then, with her dogs faithfully watching, it was my turn to be eaten. I'm sure I've never been so wet, so eager to come again and again in a desirable woman's mouth.
The first come burst all over me when she gripped my clit between her teeth and pulled on it. Then she stuck a spit-soaked index finger into my ass while she twisted and pulled on my clit. My clit was never harder.
God, did I need this!
I went to sleep with my head on her back and my hand in her wonderfully fragrant groin hair.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
The air mattress was not a perfect bed for the two of us, but add the small tent, it was cramped, crowded, and not that much protection. But it'd do.
I'd gotten spoiled from living in those abandoned temporary housing units. Just carefully leave the corridors untouched, and it was almost impossible for anyone to determine where an intruder might be. Darkness, but soft beds and towels. A few swimming pools still had water, and sometimes rooftop reservoirs were still full.
On the river island you woke up COLD!!!
We had a light breakfast of health bars and a few cans of juice. Wearing a long military type overcoat, Valerie fed the dogs. Then she brought the dead man's goods over to the fire (which she carefully built up). With the aid of two rags she handled the tube we'd found in the criminal's anus. It turned out to be many tiny packets of powdery substance's. Drugs, Valerie said. She was disappointed, and so was I. She threw it in the river.
His money belt was made up of cells of near-modern gold coins. He had probably gotten some of the loot when the reserve currency bank was looted. He had two pockets sewn full of jewels, that one was easy to split. We each took a pocket. He also had two pockets sewn full of older gold coins, and again we split. There were a few bigger stones sewn into the linings of his shirt. I took the belt complete and she kept the other coins and a few of my stones.
She was of the opinion that this criminal she'd killed had a bag of stuff, and it was probably hid somewhere near where he had originally tried to grab me. I meant to retrieve my own ruck of goodies as well. We'd also found a powder and bullet gun, a modern type. But no bullets, which explained why he hadn't used it before. He was out of bullets.
After business had been temporarily taken care of, we retired to our small tent to have some more sex.
Even after last night, I still felt like a desert traveler finding an oasis. I lost my mind once my nostrils had became filled with the scent of lubricated woman. I still NEEDED woman sex! Valerie pulled over that ubiquitous soft bag, to go under her hips, and I once more lost myself in the wet funky tropical paradise of Valerie's inviting tasty jungle of her crotch.
I got so musical, poetic, lyrical when on my belly looking at a pair of labia as they swelled and got puffy red, full of blood. I loved the sight and smell of pussy.
So wet! So tasty! So aromatic! I loved the taste of woman! This woman loved to run her fingers through my long gold-brown hair as I rubbed her pussy on my face. Zarabeth had come home to humanity, yes she had.
Afterwards, Valerie said we should re-investigate the museum vehicle garage. If we can recover the personal stash of yesterday's criminal, we might be able to short-circuit our hunt for gold and other wealth that we need to take back into the past with us. Though not said, I at least was thinking in terms of a nice little ranchero on Olabra about three centuries back. Live out our lives in peace, long before the bad times can start.
Personally I was thinking of re-investigating the storage basement of the museum. The stuff upstairs had been thoroughly looted. But the doors to the storage area were intact. Material which would have been considered second-grade items would be there. Gold coins of lesser consideration included. But still gold. Valerie had a few packs of batteries which she'd probably sell to me for my flashlight.
I went off to the down river corner of the island after a light meal of fire-warmed canned meat stew. She'd accumulated a store of canned goods, and she wasn't going to carry them through the city to the Atavachron.
While squatting in the water, I found I had to cope with three very large over-friendly dogs with major erections who kept trying to mount me. Dogs did that.
Afterwards I contemplated the planet that was already in the throes of death by Sun. The temperature was higher than usual and all our planetary ice was melting. Soon ....
I came back on the campsite from the south side. Therefore the wind was in my face and the dogs were not alerted.
I leaned on a strong sapling for some time, at the campsite. Watching. Trying to understand. Feeling sick.
One of the dogs was on it's back, waving it's paws weakly in the air. The other two looked like they were already spent. They were licking their happily abused dick's.
The third one was enjoying Valerie masturbating him and sucking on the end of his reddish inflamed penis. He was obviously -- I think -- coming in her mouth. She didn't spill a drop.
The way Valerie's first come, her pussy, had tasted a little funny. The odd initial taste, it was all explained now.
I was sharing Valerie. Her dogs, me, were all sexually using Valerie.
I went back to a big smooth alluvial rock at the south end, staring out over the river. Watching time roll by.
Eventually the dogs found me, and brought Valerie to me. I felt her presence by the dogs cheerfulness around her. Then she cane to sit alongside me.
"Would it help if I said ....," she began, but a sharp cutting motion by my hand silenced her.
"I got no right, not really," I said, "so I'm not going to say nothing about what you did with the dogs. That's your business and there is no law or custom or habit or right anymore. Believe me, I don't want to look like I'm complaining. You and the dogs are your lookout, not mine.
"But I can't share you with those dogs. And I'm too smart to think that if I asked you to give them up, the decision wouldn't eventually poison anything we might have together.
"So I've got to leave you.
"You're lovely and you're mostly my kind of lesbian, I think. But I've got to leave. I can't share," I said.
She leaned against me and silently accepted my logic.
That's the trouble with women. We're too logical at the wrong times. And we act like we're mind-readers.
Lesbian jokes. We can still be friends. I know exactly what you're feeling. In time I'll forgive you. And when you split she actually hopes you're devastated, so that she can feel like a romance novel whenever she sees you again.
I'm getting far too old for this crap.
Dogs. God!
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Mister Atoz greeted me warmly when I showed up at the doorway inside the Atavachron. Like an old friend, which I suppose he was justified in feeling.
For my part I knew he was but one of umpteen million. The Police the looters had happily knocked out, but they must have turned green at the thought of someone closing down the Library and the many Mister Atoz. He was all that was left of the Planetary Computer Mind.
We had days before the Nova, and mountains of up-till-then essential goods lay in a few of the Atavachron corridors. Food, clothes, boots, weapons, robot fuel, things of primitive times -- this now time of ours.
Mister Atoz had seen most of my adventures in the city, he informed me. The Police units may be immobilized, but they were not defunct. He could see and hear, and had been glad to discover I had went through my city time mostly unhurt. He had seen me recover the stash of the rapist, but had been unable to intervene at any time whatsoever.
The criminal's name was Rijtas, Mister Atoz informed me. When he come to the Atavachron at last he would have been unpleasantly surprised by his selection as to a refuge. Mister Atoz would have sent him to one of the uninhabited major islands in the pre-historic past where he sent all the other antisocial criminal men. Rijtas' looting would have gained him nothing, and his attack on me would have resulted in him being exiled in a place and time with neither women nor civilization.
That would have been of little comfort to me if I'd died.
Over an incredibly good wine and a few warmed plates of grilled chops and soup, we talked of many things. There was no longer any hurry. Salvation was only steps away, and the Nova weeks away. He told me what happened to the Necessary Revolution crew -- they all ended badly. Their now meaningless exploits were mere footnotes in an unread history, including all of that which had occurred since my exile.
We trotted out some of the gold I'd taken off Rijtas. I'd found his mobile stash in the garage. It contained more drugs and some hundreds of gold coins, including ancient classics of museum quality. Mister Atoz advised me to keep the ancient coins and melt down the modern stuff. He'd even advised me to add some silver, lead, arsenic, and copper to the melted gold. That way Police chemical analysis teams of the past would not have a match to melted-down coins. This would prevent the Police from being TOO interested in my rough-hewn gold bricks.
He smiled much when my questions came to the ENTERPRISE. He told me a bit or two, mostly item's he'd stolen and downloaded from the ship's computer.
They were much like us, only we hadn't understood many basic laws of nature which might have enabled us into another option. They treated these laws as gateways which enabled them to transcend space and time. Atoz had studied what he'd stolen from the ENTERPRISE. He'd established research facilities full of dedicated Atoz's, for thousands of years in our far-distant past. Now we had many options as to what we might do in search of a refuge.
I asked about Spock and McCoy and Kirk. He reassured me that their ship would easily escape the nova. I sat back, washing my mouth with a clear white wine. Wishing I could have gone with them.
"Would you like to follow them?" Mister Atoz innocently asked.
"Learn what they are doing now?", I asked, in some confusion.
"No," he smiled, "go to them where they are now. Follow them."
"Where?"
"To Terra, home, Earth, their Home planet."
- - - - - - - - - - - -
It was a bit hard to grasp, but Atoz had established these cybernetic research centers far in our planetary past. By his reckoning the Planetary Computer Centre -- himself -- had been studying the Mysteries of the Universe for thousands of years already.
He tried explaining some of the very logical reasons he himself had not known he'd been doing this work. I logged it up to a magnificent glitch in his programming.
The research work, being done by a computer, even though a planetary-sized one, was all dull plodding non-inspired stuff. But thanks to the information stolen from the ENTERPRISE, it became headed in the right direction.
He talked about things like casualty, but it was just right over my spinning head.
Until the instant he offered it to me, he hadn't known he now had the ability to travel through space as well as time.
Did I want to follow Spock back to Earth? You betcha! When did I want to go? Now sounded just fine.
The chops were splendid, though, and the wine taste could linger for an hour. First I finished my lunch. Twenty years in an Ice Age made you appreciate how good a meal prepared by Mister Atoz could be. I had another four recommended bottles put into my backpack, all four in protectosheaths. EXCELLENT wine.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
I was totally amazed, excited, hopeful, anticipating great things. A few seconds ago I was fitted into what looked like a brass shell for a closet. Now I was here, on Earth, on Terra, ready to meet Spock again! Somewhere on this planet my randy Vulcan lived! If he wasn't a girl, well, no one is perfect.
I hoped.
The Universe was now open to me!
Of course it looked rather cramped and plebeian where I was. Just an ordinary room, albeit with interesting combinations of colors to the walls. Nice, if rather spindly furniture, rather cool. It looked as if someone had worked hard to turn a cave into habitable living quarters.
I turned as a doorway opened, allowing one of the most stunning women I've ever met to approach me. She was wearing a one-piece trousers outfit of blue-green and brown. The top was two strips which covered her lovely pert high breasts, but not much else. The first thing I wanted to do was to roll those strips off her and spend a very long time sucking on the perfect little breasts and nipples.
After that, I'd come up for air, before I rolled the trousers down. Trying to discover if the impression I had, that she wasn't wearing any unders, was true.
Dismissing memories of Valerie, I wanted to lick every tiny bit of this vision's groin before I licked every tiny bit of her bottom. And then ask her if she liked pets. Just to be sure.
Yes, definitely, this female was good looking. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
If she said she liked her ass licked, she was never going to have to clean her own rear again. I wanted to leave light fingernail marks all over her soft-skinned body, and hickies on her nipples. Fourteen years in an Ice Age cave must have had more of an effect on my glands than I thought they had.
She said she was called Andrea. If that lucious little body was exclusively the property of some male I was going to cry all night long. My belly was quivering with the suggestions of fire-trails, my nipples were pure hard rubbery anticipation, I KNEW I was wet. My cheeks were hot pink, my knees were shaking, oh my, I was READY!
Fourteen years in a cave, I was thinking.
Just then a big heaping monster came through the door. He was a Ruk, and I hoped to hell this wasn't my competition. She quickly gave him a few commands, reassuring me as to his place in her immediate universe. They both ignored my sudden appearance here, amongst her property, and her privacy. A sophisticated culture, I thought.
The hell with Spock. I'd discovered my dream creature. I was in lust. My life from this point forward in time was going to consist of eating this woman, if she did women. I hoped I still wasn't reacting to fourteen years with no sex.
Please God, I thought, it would be cruel and unusual punishment to have this Andrea person be wasted on men.
"Andrea, darling," I began, "I'm not here to harm you, there's a perfectly good explanation for all of this."
She smiled encouragingly up at me. My heart felt funny with her so near.
"I've come to Earth to find a man named Spock. Or that's what I wanted to do at one time. For now, I've just come here to Earth to look and learn and study and -- and enjoy myself!
"I presume there's someone in authority wants to keep track of arrivals like me. I don't want to break the law, could you point me in the direction of your governmental offices?"
"Earth?" she asked. "This is Exo Type III Planet 226-3 Research, according to Doctor Roger Corby. Earth, Terra was his home planet and the source planet from which the ENTERPRISE came.
"Also, the StarFleet officers who visited us were Captain James Kirk, Nurse Christine Chapel and eventually First Officer Spock. As well as a few others, two of which died during their stay here." She looked rather brightly at me, awaiting more input from me. What to say?
"Andrea," I asked, "could you explain what an Exo Type III is? And what is this place?"
Needless to say, I was not a happy person to discover Mister Atoz' aim was a little bit off.
This planet was at best a research station, and one without any physical link to the Federation. There was now Ruk. Many Ruk. Thousands of Ruk were elsewhere, creating habitable sections for the Researchers which Andrea hoped would be arriving soon. Maybe only a dozen or so, but the Ruk were creating large areas in which they might work, live, and find recreation. Large Biophysics labs were already in place. Parks composed of many square Ord's of chemically correct soil, ready for seeds and spores and insects.
Very ambitious, I'm sure. Eventually I'd probably live to see a spaceship come back here. Eventually. In the meantime ....
In the meantime I'm living in another goddamned cave.
The happy part of this situation means I'm all alone with the only other inhabitant of this cave I'd met so far. Andrea. Who got me wet whenever we were close. Which was becoming increasingly often.
At one point we were sitting on a simple bench when I realized our hips and shoulders were brushing. I liked it. I kept imagining myself doing delightfully obscene and enjoyably perverse things to this most desirable of females.
GodDAMN it, but I couldn't stop from caressing her back and her INCREDIBLY smooth young arms and looking down her trouser strips to the way her darling little breasts bounced when she used her hands to talk, to emphasize some point. She was NOT wearing any unders. I wanted very much to start caressing her groin through those light trousers of hers. They were very thin, cool trousers.
When Andrea leaned back, the thin material would pull up in her groin, outlining ever aspect of her pouty labia and Mons. Please, please, please let it be true that she was wet also.
" -- but can I get to that later?", I asked. "Right now I'm going to be terribly rude and forward...." And I hoped, effective.
She had stood, and I was standing very close to her. She wasn't backing away. It was impossible to delay any longer. One hand tentatively let itself fasten on one of those marvelously firm delightfully pointy breasts, right through the flimsy charade of clothing over it.
It was SOOOOO lovingly firm. Her nipple felt like warm granite, her breast gave like a rubber perfection. Please, please , please have her be a woman who likes women.
At least she has to be accustomed to other women as well as men trying to take her to bed. Or did she? It didn't sound like she had much in the way of company here on this research station.
Please, please don't have her be one of those women who scream at the slightest touch. In which case I suppose I'm already facing some months in their form of jail.
It'd be worth it. I could not recall a more beautiful upright breast, one more eagerly begging for the touch, the tongue, the biting and nibbling of another woman.
"Andrea," I croaked faintly. "I've got to ask you, and you can slap me or hit me or scream, but I've got to ask.
"Do you like girls??" There. That's about as subtle as I'm going to get today.
She looked quizzical, and my heart fell. Protected virgin. Any second now her chaperone was going to burst in and order 96% of my skin turned into a supple saddle for a child.
Andrea smiled at me. "Yes, I like girls," she said. "Do you want to have sex with me? The Christine Chapel clone told us all about how to have sex with girls. She taught all of us how to go down on a woman, and such things. You want to teach me? You can tell me how good her training was." I wasn't following all of this.
"There is a bedroom behind this door. Would you like to have sex here, on the floor, or in the bedroom?"
With that she began twisting her clothes off. "Bedroom," I hurriedly said. This was happening too fast, way too fast.
There should be a dance of some sort, I said to myself. She invites, I move forward, she retreats, I advance, she debates with herself, I practice patience and don't push my luck, and she flirts again and I smile back. You know. The eternal dance, the one where it doesn't always finish up with the two of you going to bed together.
Something here is wrong.
Then she held out her nipples to me. I leaned forward to suck and bite. She smoothed her trousers down to her ankles, toeing her half-boots off. One of my hands found the crisp curly growth of hair rising from her mound, and the smell of her hit my nostrils. I was lost.
Something is wrong here, and I don't know what. But at this crossroads in time, I could think of nothing but of the exquisite woman opening her legs to me and our future. She was randy, she was ready, and the moment she sealed the door, she was mine.
Big problem. When the door was locked, Andrea was sitting on the edge of the bed and I was easing her edible legs back up on the bed's edge. But there were too many Andrea's in the room. Two too many. There were two more perfect clothed Andrea's in the room and all three were giggling like mad.
There I was, in the act of skinning my own trousers and shirt off, prior to finding out how fast could I get out of my satiny pale green unders. I had been debating leaving them on, I thought they were cute. I'd been surprised at finding unders of that quality in the mountains of stuff accumulated in the corridors of the Atavachron.
So, I'm trying to whip my trousers off and I realize we've got company.
Triplets! Andrea was a triplet!
They weren't hostile, like I said they were giggling. They began helping me out of my clothes, and they weren't the least afraid of fondling me in places strangers usually don't fondle until at least there's been a formal introduction. Someone kept sticking their finger into me from behind. It felt like a friendly gesture.
We kissed, they showed they liked my little sagging breasts by repeatedly kissing my nipples. In turn I caressed their exquisite heads and groaned as they bit, sucked, and chewed on me. My knees started giving way.
They knew. They helped me go to my knees so that I might crouch against the side of the bed. In front of me sat an obscene Andrea, her knees laid back to her ears.
In front of me lay her incredibly juicy pussy, a feast set out for me to eat. It seemed to pulse, it's lips were red and waiting to be taken in my drooling mouth.
I leaned to this beauty and my tongue immediately found the tiny hardness hidden in soft warm wet flesh, at the top of her fragrant gash. Her clit attempted to escape my tongue-tip, but I chased it, my mouth engulfed it, my teeth gently bruised it. Andrea cried, her sisters pulled at her giving flesh either side of her clit, and I could not remove my mouth from this hot wet delight.
Finally I let my mouth discover the hot source of her wetness, the mouth of her wet pink pussy. Not just any pussy, but one that was sopping, and warm to my tongue, open, tight to my intruding fingers.
One finger, two, three, and Andrea came.
Oh, it was a most beautiful come! Her hips bucked as she fell back onto the bed. She cried, she hissed, she mumbled, she whispered nonsense words, she twisted her body, and her feet fell behind my head as she wet my again active tongue. She rubbed her pussy all over my face, her hands were in my gold-brown lengths of hair. She cursed, she said it hurt, she said it was soooo goooood! A few times she hurt me as she ground her wet crotch onto me. She jerked, she muttered thanks to me for making her come so much.
Finally, she rose back up, pulling me to kiss her with my come-soaked lips, tongue, face.
The three of them licked my face, ran their hands through my dark brown pubic hairs. They caressed my naked butt, cheek by cheek. They worked and tweaked my nipples, lifted and fondled my small tits, caressed my belly and thighs, raised me up so they might more easily run their multitude of slender fingers through my smaller thatch of dark brown pubic hairs, they loved my hair and the wetness of my groin. As they continued to run their fingers down the moist slot of my own puffy pussy, it was hard to find anything wrong with what they were doing.
In fact, I came. Coming is a form of saying 'I like' and 'thank you'.
Eventually I opened my mouth for a string of mumbled curses, cries, and commands to keep rubbing me down there. I lifted one leg and trapped one hand with fingertips searching the opening of my tight, tight, tight, tight hole. My labia were thrice their normal size, I thought. A finger was in me and I was rhythmically milking it. It was a fantastically satisfying penis, it wriggled around, and my pussy kept attempting to grasp it.
Tears were on my cheeks, I knew I was begging for the other Andrea to keep fondling me and fucking me and they did. I couldn't get enough breath.
I'd never done a foursome before, but I had wanted to, deep inside my inner heart. I was standing and getting masturbated by two gorgeous women, and the one I'd just eaten out was leering, masturbating gracefully, and watching her sisters wind me up into a marvelously tight come. A woman can't ask for very much more.
Then they gave me more.
The two clothed sisters turned me around, and the original Andrea pushed me back onto the bed. My butt was on the edge, and the girls brought my feet to where my knees weren't that far from my ears (Thank Heavens I'm an agile skinny gal!). And put my feet at the edge of the bed.
One Andrea started to nibble my thighs, her breath warming my already warm wet crotch. When she began licking the edges of my pussy and my wet slit, I had to fall back on the bed. I was quivering, then blind-eyed as the two clothed sisters crawled onto the bed on each side of me. My hands caressed their heads as they began to suckle and softly and hard bite my very spiked breasts.
I think I had two almost-comes, working up to a real hard one. Andrea kept shifting her mouth on me, making me especially happy when she chewed on my labia in turn, time and again.
I came
hard
and I screamed so good
and my nipples were being chewed so hard and I was hoping I wasn't bleeding there but it didn't really matter if I was.
Andrea was chewing on my clit. It hurt.
I came again for her, and I wondered if I was falling in love.
It hurt so good, and I had to sweep the clothed Andrea's off my hard tender nipples, my breasts. I rolled over to my side, my hands protecting my wounded aching pussy. I rolled again, my knees patting my forehead. The tender hands of many women caressed me, silently telling me they understood.
In time I opened up again, willing my jangled senses to ease. On my side my eyes barely understood what was happening. The other Andrea were stripping out of their identical trousers. Being naked and desirable for me.
I found myself being coaxed back to lying on my back on the bed.
A naked Andrea possessively caressed my still convulsing thighs, her fingertips running trails through my moist pubic hairs. A thumb flicked my clit and I jumped. She crouched before me, her hot breath stirring the hairs in my groin.
"Now it's my turn," she whispered.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I felt woozy, not level-headed when I awoke. I was blanket wrapped and in the center of the bed. The door was open, and some enticing smells blew in. Once I was up and peeking into the main room, all three Andrea's pulled me out to a table. The blanket carefully being tucked into my corners as they sat me down to a meal. It was nothing like Mister Atoz carefully prepared gourmet meals, but it tasted fine. The three Andrea had changed, probably just for me.
One now wore a yellow and blue trousers outfit, with a bolero of yellow and blue. Another now wore the Andrea trousers, but with the addition of a long one-buttoned open scalloped-front jacket of the same colors. Andrea three wore a differing trouser type which had a string-tied gold-yellow blouse on top, which had loose billowing sleeves and tight wrists.
In short they had given me a means to tell them apart.
The meal was a bit dry and tasteless, but when inquired about, the girls produced salt and other spicy savor's to put on the food.
It approached lamb in taste, with thin sliced vegetables.
I was sitting on an adjustable chair, relaxed, when I asked one of the Andrea if she would like to sit on my lap and get fondled and other things. All three asked; "Which one?"
Then I had to apologize as I processed the fact they were all Andrea. Also, none of them had anything to eat. That puzzled me. Then I asked how did they tell each other apart?
"Why hadn't any of you anything to eat? Could I meet your parents? The other members of your cave society?"
"Android's don't have parents, or need food per se."
After a while one of the Andrea asked; "Can we have more sex with you now? Sex is fun when it's with organic's."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The whole incredible story came out then. Quashing 99.7% of my sex drive for the moment.
Doctor Roger Corby had stumbled on the almost-extinct culture of androids on this ice planet. Disaster befell all of the expedition. Everyone excepting his assistant Doctor Brown, and himself perished. Then they too faced corporal death. With death facing them these two had accepted an artificial life as android clones. The ENTERPRISE came eventually, and Captain Kirk and Nurse Christine Chapel were about to be replaced by their clones. The android remnants of Brown and Corby died instead.
In storage compartments three Andrea survived the final disaster.
The ENTERPRISE left, leaving Exo to be populated by other variations of androids, Andrea included. Plus there was a hidden clone of Christine Chapel, and Ruk. The Andrea surgically reduced the Ruk to slow-witted pacific Work-Androids. Though now dead by accidental crushing, the Chapel clone had worked diligently to improve the android culture.
Ruk had much of his higher functions -- his brain -- removed in order to permanently quiet his aims.
Andrea, a sex toy created by Corby, had her entire body re-made into a more realistic copy of a 'normal' Federation female. No one could now tell short of dissection.
Andrea was provably now a woman. Her flesh was warmer, especially in her groin. She was more sensitive, she could think better, she was almost a real woman. She was especially improved in her groin. She had sexually hot sensations, she functioned just like a woman. Her labia puffed during sex, her vagina grew wet and tighter in her barrel of female flesh. She came normally, her nipples spiked, and Christine taught them many patterns of heterosexual and lesbian sex. Especially lesbian sex. The Christine Chapel clone had liked lesbian sex.
In the meantime the androids prepared the caverns for eventual occupation by Federation specialists. They very thoughtfully even included various Andrea to warm their beds.
I'd had wondrous gratifying sex with three fucking robots. Pun.
Takes a lot out of your sex ego. I'd just seduced three android women built to keep humanoids drained and happy. No wonder my seduction of them had been so successful.
What really hurt was the fact it HAD been wondrous gratifying lesbian sex. I had come hard -- what? Eight times altogether? Even I was amazed by my response. Before I learned they were fucking machines. Again, pardon the pun.
Before I learned the truth I had been happily questioning the need to ever leave this apartment. Eat, fuck, and sleep. My dream honeymoon. With three of the most beautiful humanoids in the galaxy.
Instead I'd had sex with three mechanical masturbation devices. When I was over my rage-and-tears, I came out of the bedroom. They were very sympathetic, but for the longest time I couldn't bear their touch.
Finally we sat together, on the edge of the bed. Maybe I shouldn't have. I could smell our .... Whatever. For robotic machines they certainly smelled like .... Women. Real. Come.
One of the Andrea showed me how. Thanks to the Christine Chapel clone, she made the Andrea almost 99.98% genuine. She stole some of the organic Christine Chapel, during the Kirk-Chapel adventure in the planetary cave-refuge.
Give their few dozen artificial Roger Corby chemist-researcher clones a few more years and their duplicated female comes, it would be almost impossible to tell the horny Andrea clones from a real woman. As well as a number of other things.
Sweat, urine, spit, male come (courtesy of James T. Kirk), and several hundred chemical products. With me here they could continue their studies on neural, glandular and many other organic by-product. The Corby's were ecstatic about the possibilities.
In a few hundred years the Andrea could pass almost any casual test for organic human.
Whoooppee! Pardon me if I don't stand and cheer.
One Andrea told me they were attempting to copy human patterns of behavior. The one they wanted to practice was falling in love.
With me.
It took me a while, but eventually I understood they wanted to have some more disgusting hot meaningless sex with me. Hot, hot, hot, hot! They wanted to practice their mechanical copulation with the only organic in sight. Me. Practice until I melted into a puddle of disgusting slime.
They worked on me. One thing you'll ALWAYS be able to say about mechanical sex (masturbation?) units, and that is that they're persistent as hell.
Save me from men, but the Andrea even altered their patterns of persuasion. They were self-correcting, analog evaluation, what ever you want to say to describe what they did.
They got better at convincing me I wanted some more mechanical sex. A lot more. Andrea talked. Andrea wouldn't stop feeling up my nipples. Andrea kept treating my clothed body as something they desired. It sounded genuine. Real. They talked hot in my ears.
They begged for another chance.
I kept thinking if I succumbed to these metallic lesbians, I was lost. I'd spend the rest of my life having sex with artificial constructs.
Eating them. Fisting them. Masturbating their artificial clits. Being fisted. Being licked and bitten and chewed and sucked by robots until I was lost to humanity. I'd be a pathetic creature who was a slave to one diseased form of masturbation after another.
It kept sounding better and better.
The noises outside the bedroom turned out to be a few Ruk building a sex chair for me. The Andrea started taking my clothes off again as I stood and goggled at this elaborate sex toy.
It was a chair, or rather a spindly sort of one. First thing the girls did was to scurry into the bedroom, emerging in yellow, green and white robes.
They encouraged me to sit high in the chair, placing my feet just so, at first. I knew very well this thing was built to support me, hold me, expose me, open me for their sexing. Even the seat of the chair was obscene. I sat on the edges of my ass, because the crotch of the chair was missing. I was REALLY opened up for sexing. I sat there, knowing I was ready to be fucked, sexed, used and abused.
I was almost fainting as the Andrea buzzed around me. I was cold, hot, afraid, wondering what would happen, exactly. The Andrea kept telling me I had only to complain, or say I was afraid, in order to prevent the Andrea from continuing with the program, whatever it was. I had control, they said, I was the one who could stop the plans they had for me, the pleasures in store for me.
An Andrea stepped onto a small platform in the front of the chair. She lifted one of my feet, caressing it, scratching it, rubbing it. She placed that foot on another broad bar, curved to hold it comfortably. Then, opening me obscenely, she lifted my other foot, rubbing, scratching, caressing it. She brought that foot to another thick curved bar, gently pressing it in place.
I was now sitting before the Andrea, and my legs were comfortably splayed wide before her. I jumped wide when she let one hand work its way back and forth, side to side, through the thin bush of my pubic forest. Her palm rubbed my clit, and her fingers ran down my moist sex slot to my pussy hole, where one finger briefly entered me.
Then she stood back, slowly removing her white robe. It took a few minutes to understand what I was seeing. This Andrea had a cock. At first I thought I was seeing a strap-on dick on her, which wasn't that great a stretch of imagination. I'd been fucked by other girl's wearing items like that. I'd inside-stroked a few girls myself, back in my University days. Big deal.
Then I understood she wasn't WEARING something. She actually had an erect male's cock sprouting from her groin. At the right place and with a size of male's dick equivalent to the equipment of a VERY well-equipped male. I'd seen one stud with a prick equal to what the Andrea was wearing. Maybe just a tad bigger and longer. I'd seen but had never gotten anything like this between my thighs, in the old days. Nothing like a Lurl, mind you, long as my forearm. Just thicker and longer than anything a male had ever offered me before.
Large and long and very comfy for sex, if you were looking to receive a larger-than-ordinary prize. My eyes probably got bright when she disrobed in front of me.
I sat up, and Andrea offered it to me, to fondle. Which I did. It was a real dick. I mean, it felt the right weight and shape and texture and everything. I studied where it grew out of Andrea groin and it was seamless, it grew out from her and was not attached. It's balls had one lower than the other, and hefted just like real ones.
The difference came when I investigated behind the balls. Her pussy was still there. Her pussy accepted two of my fingers, and it pulsed on my fingers, and tightened on my penetrating fingers. And it got wet as I did so. She still had a functioning vagina.
She showed me how it was done.
There was an invisible point in her hairy pubic mound where a seam could be opened up, peeled back. Andrea pressed a stud, and she could ROTATE the cock off. Suddenly she was a female again.
Once she was wearing her dick again, she told me how it could shoot some sperm concentrate in me, courtesy of Exo's marvelous labs. Something incredibly similar to that once ejected by James T. Kirk. Excepting the fact it was dead and could never impregnate anybody.
She could shoot (on command, unlike many organic's) and be made partially flaccid. Then she could initiate erect mode again until she had shot Kirk-like sperm and become flaccid again.
It was certainly fascinating. I knew this attention was getting me hot and wet. One Andrea or another kept massaging my groin, penetrating me with a finger, and carefully masturbating me.
The Andrea even had sex lubricant. She rubbed it on her hard male cock. Then carefully shuffled forward until she could stir my clit, my sex, my groin, with her warm realistic dick.
Then she aligned it with my pussy hole and began to enter me.
Oh, oh, oh, it was good. I was tight and I was wet, and the rings of muscles at the beginning of my hole were being eased apart by her dick.
Bit by bit she eased into me, time and again I convulsed around her damnable cock. It was big, I could feel, but not gigantic. Just lots bigger than what I could recall from my past men.
I stared wide-eyed as that robot dick entered me and entered me and entered me and entered me. It felt like it would never stop until it came out my mouth. Somewhere in the process she bottomed out inside me. I'd never been so full in my life, apart from a few good fistings.
Then she drew back. It all just kept sliding back and sliding back and sliding back, and my mouth was open in shock and appreciation. Oh, this could really get sooooo good!
Then in again, and out and ....
I was getting well and truly fucked and enjoying every bit of it. The best part of it was that I was getting fucked by this gorgeous exquisite beautiful girl. While she was fucking me so good and so fast and so good and I had to "urgh!" every time she bottomed out in me, barely nearing the sensitive entrance to my cervix. I was well and truly nailed, screwed, fucked, I felt like a perfect woman.
All the while the Andrea worked nipples, mine, or vice versa. This was some good fucking! Then another Andrea squeezed into the space behind and below me.
I immediately thought to myself that she couldn't.
But she did. Her seat was raised and I felt her lube cold dickhead poke at my ass. Never going to happen, I thought.
Her long dick eased itself at my asshole. Never going to happen.
Her dick was in me. Once it started, her prick entered me easily. I gave a series of whoops before I realized the Andrea's cock had already plunged inside me. All the fucking paused for a moment while I tried to convince myself that I didn't have this need to take a dump. Right now. Suddenly Andrea's cockhead was poking at my asshole from the inside, and it didn't feel too bad. Of course part of the reason it felt better to me was that I began to come.
I'd never been poked in my rear hole before. It would never be a favored form of fucking, I could see that. Yet it could be withstood as long as my front hole was getting stroked at the same time. I'm a lesbian who likes getting penetrated. Sorry.
My pussy stepped up it's convulsing, and I was very glad that there were bars there to keep my legs wide spread. I really, really, really wanted to stretch the flesh tight where my clit was needing a tight place to pulse against.
Then the last Andrea stood alongside me and tried to pull it tighter there.
I stared at her, I stared at the red-hot whiteness of my clit being stiff as steel and I rubbed it with my thumb.
It was almost as if an electric current suddenly passed through my body there, when I rubbed the stiffness of my almost-exposed clit.
I knew my ass was still filled with cock, but it just didn't seem important more. I threw back my head and screamed. My pussy tried to clamp down on the dick in it and came came
and came and came
I think I squirted. It felt as if I was urinating but I could discover nothing afterwards,
Andrea came in me and I sighed in happiness. Once she unplugged a little come trickled out of me, but a rag took care of that.
Andrea and I kissed, it was good, she was good, I liked licking her mouth and caressing her ass and breasts. Such a beautiful woman. Even if she was an android. So maybe they were MADE, rather than born. She, the Andrea, were such good fuckers.
That cock was still in my ass.
The third Andrea stepped up on that tiny platform and pushed me back into the open-crotched almost seat of the Chair.
"Relax, sweetheart, Zarabeth," she cooed. "Now it's my turn." I felt her begin to stir my crotch with her large dick. Then she began to squeeze cold liquid lubricant onto that big cock.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
I was going to eventually drink part of one of my bottles of wine today. Andrea had gotten all four lightly chilled, and had taken part of each bottle as samples while the Corby attempted to reproduce the taste. Give them a few years and they'd do it. Of course this was a more complex job than reproducing James T. Kirk's cum, but they felt sure it could be managed.
In the meantime I could enjoy the Andrea. One of them had discovered I liked a rim job on my anus. They're just machines, right? Nothing unsanitary possible. Afterward an Andrea must always make sure she was clean before kissing or having sex with an organic. No kissing until she's clean. No problem.
And then there was fisting. Lovely girls, even if they were androids. Beautiful women with small hands. They loved fisting.
When Mister Atoz appeared suddenly, it was almost expected.
He apologized for his previous error in space-time coordination. It had taken a few dozen real-time attempts to find me again. He was ready now to take me to the real Terra, true Earth. Would I get my stuff and step onto his platform please? He was unfazed by the collective nudity's of me and all three Andrea. I think.
There was, however, the looks he continually cast at my three naked beauties. His eyes kept weaving back to their thick raven growth's of curly black hair in their groin's. I restrained myself from running a hand through one of those growths of incredibly sexy pubic hair. I did manage to heft a pair of breasts from behind, though. Just establishing ownership lines.
"Mister Atoz," I asked, "could you make a bigger platform and take my girl friends? I think we all four deserve to visit Terra. Baggage and all. Please? As a gift to me? Pretty please?"
I think that was very good, for there not being any practice at practicing feminine wiles to get something done for myself, it was very effective. I'd not been much at being a female for fourteen years, while being trapped in an ice cave, but I guess some habits never get old.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Suddenly it was dark, and we all oooohed and aaaaahed. It was in the open air, however, and there were numerous lights, buildings, people.
We shuffled off the platform with our luggage, and kissed Mister Atoz in gratitude as we left.
There was a beautiful Black girl who watched the process in great mystification, but little alarm. She turned to me, asking questions, her sweet perfume a singing joy in my nostrils.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"I'm Zarabeth," I answered. "These three women are Andrea," I added. "And you?"
"I'm a cadet here at StarFleet Academy. They call me Uhara." She couldn't help caressing one of the Andrea with a much more than straight woman's touch. The Andrea smiled at her as they pawed.
"....though maybe you could call me Nyota." She touched my hand as it felt the strong lines of her lovely neck. I think Uhara was one of us. Hopefully the night was young. With any luck she was open, in more ways than one, to a little friendly fun from all four of us. If she was as I thought she was. Fourteen years in an ice cave. I've a lot of catching-up to do.
END