Message-ID: <29757asstr$986775004@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
Return-Path: <nntp-bounce@supernews.net>
X-Original-Path: corp.supernews.com!not-for-mail
From: cyberczar@freedom.net
X-Original-Message-ID: <td1ivftkq3bddb@corp.supernews.com>
Old-From: cyberczar@freedom.net
User-Agent: KNode/0.4
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset = "us-ascii"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7Bit
Subject: {ASSM} the Michael Collins' Anthology { See Chapter Guide for Codes } [3/21]
Date: Sun, 8 Apr 2001 20:10:04 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2001/29757>
X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Moderator-ID: t4425, dennyw
the Michael Collins' Anthology
Warning: This story contains frank discussions of a sexually
explicit nature, and is intended for mature audiences only.
Disclaimer: The persons depicted in this story are entirely
fictional. Any similarities are completely coincidental.
References to actual places, companies, or organizations are used
strictly for artistic reference to provide realism. In other
words, none of this is true.
Copyright (c) 1999-2001 CyberCzar. You may download this story
for your own personal use; but please don't share it with anyone.
If you think someone else might be interested in this story,
please forward their request to me.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Revelations
When he awoke, he was in the basement of their house, laying
naked on his workbench. He saw Julie sleeping at her keyboard,
sitting at the adjoining table.
"What happened?" he said.
"Oh!" she said, jumping up. "You startled me."
He tried to get up, but found he was paralyzed. He couldn't move
any muscles below his neck.
"Julie," he said more sternly, "what's going on?"
She gave him a look, and abruptly stood up and walked over.
"What's going on?" she asked rhetorically. "Why don't you tell me
what the fuck is going on." she ordered as she slapped him across
the face.
"Uh," he muttered. "Uh, I, I don't know. What time is it?"
"5:20pm," she said. "On January third!"
He sighed. He tried to remember what happened, what was going on.
"I honestly don't know," he said. "The last thing I remember we
were making love on New Year's Eve."
"Go on," she said; her back to him as she sat back down at her
computer.
"Well, it turned midnight," he continued. "You were coming, I was
coming, and then I blacked out."
She tapped away at her keyboard some more, literally pounding on
the keys. She then paused for a moment, pushed herself away from
table, and rolled herself over.
"Then let me fill in the blanks," she said sarcastically.
"You're right," she continued. "We were both coming."
She went on to tell him that as they were both saying, "Happy New
Year!" to each-other, he didn't stop; didn't stop speaking, or
coming for that matter.
"Your voice became very distorted," she told him.
"What do you mean I didn't stop coming," he questioned.
"That was the most fucked up part," she went on. "You didn't stop
coming for like 10 minutes!"
She reached over and picked up his head to look down at his body
laying on the table. Unbeknownst to him, his cock was still rock
hard at this point, in fact he thought it was a little bigger!
"The sheets are ruined," she said. "I think I sponged up close to
250ml of cum from you."
He closed his eyes. All he wanted to do was cry, but couldn't
bring himself to form any tears.
"I thought you had died," she told him. "After I composed myself,
I was just about to call the cops, 911, or somebody when I heard
a strange beeping coming from your chest."
Michael thought it was strange that she heard beeping, but let
her go on.
"When I put my ear to your chest, I heard whirring and beeping. I
knew you weren't dead," she consoled; "but I also knew you
weren't alive, either."
She went on to tell him how she dragged him down the flights of
stairs to the basement, and set him up here.
She told him how she got the video camera, and set it up to
record. She had the TV from the guest-bedroom sitting on the
table next to her. He watched it as she played the tape.
He wouldn't have believed what he saw the next thirty minutes if
it weren't on tape.
She was brushing away tears on the tape as she examined him
there. Laying on the table, she glided her hands slowly across
his chest, feeling all around. She next moved her hands to the
side of his chest.
"Interesting," she said on the tape. "I hadn't noticed this
before!"
"Between your second and third ribs," she told him while they
continued to watch the tape.
"What?" he asked. She didn't say anything, as she motioned for
him to watch.
The next thing he saw truly amazed him. His chest split open and
flanged out!
"Fuck me!" she said on the tape.
He could see her on the tape walking over to the camera and
picking it up. She carried the camera over to record what she was
seeing. What he next saw almost blew his mind away.
As she focused the camera into his chest, in the upper right-hand
side of this ... cavity ... there were rows and rows of tiny
lights and switches.
Spread elsewhere were jacks. Cables ran through and into the rest
of his body.
"Amazing," Michael said aloud.
Julie paused the videotape as she got closer to him.
"You mean you didn't know?" she said as she brushed his cheek
with her hand.
"No," he said, looking up. "Hey Jules, why can't I move
anything?"
"Oops!" she exclaimed. "Let me take care of that for you."
She rolled her chair back to her keyboard, typed away at her
keyboard, then rolled back over to him with a long cable. She
secured the cable in her mouth as she pressed on both sides of
his ribs. A "click" followed by a "whoosh" sound was heard as his
chest opened up like a box-top.
"Fuckin'A," he mumbled.
Just then, the doorbell rang upstairs.
"Fuck," he mumbled aloud.
"Don't worry, babe," Julie said, patting him on the head. "It's
just Arnie."
"Fuck!" he exclaimed. "Arnie doesn't know, does he?"
Arnie Phillips. Major geek. Major prick. Major pain in Michael's
ass. Arnie's his coworker at Dataronics. Michael hated his
personality, but respected his coding abilities immensely.
"Arnie fixed you," she said.
Before Julie could make it to the stairs to walk back up, the
door to the basement flung opened and heavy footsteps descended.
"Julie?" Arnie yelled as he walked downward.
"Down here," we both said, in unison.
Arnie turned the corner where Michael was laying and stopped dead
in his tracks.
"Dudes!" he exclaimed. "The robo-cock is alive!" he said.
"Fuck you," Michael yelled.
Arnie giggled as he walked over to him. "More like you've been
programmed to fuck Julie it looks to me," he said.
Julie threw the cable she'd been holding down, turned around and
slapped him right across the face. "That was uncalled for," she
said.
"Ouch," he said as he took a step back protecting himself.
Michael just glared.
"So, when did he reboot," he asked. Julie turned back towards
Michael and screwed the connections from the cable into his
chest.
"About 30 min ago," she replied.
"Cool," he said.
She sat herself down, and rolled back over to her keyboard, and
entered a few more commands.
"Try to move your arms," she asked me.
Like she requested, Michael tried moving his hands and arms which
moved just as easily as before.
"Good," she said; as she continued to type. "Now try lifting your
legs," she asked.
Just as before, he tried moving his legs and feet. Things
appeared to be back to normal.
Michael swung his legs over the table where he could finally sit
up.
"Jules, would you get his boxers for me," he asked.
She smiled back at him. "Sure thing, be right back."
When she had walked upstairs, he took the opportunity to
sucker-punch Arnie. With moderate force, Michael's fist met up
with Arnie's cheek.
"Fuck!" Arnie said falling back. "What did you do that for?" he
said, brushing a tear from his eye.
"That's for the robo-fucking-cock comment earlier," he said.
"But Jeeze, man," he said. "That fucking hurt! I can't help it if
your cock is programmable!"
"What do you mean?" he replied.
"Dude! You are fucking amazing," he explained.
Arnie went on to explain how he must have been developed for the
CIA or some bullshit reason. He explained how Michael had a very,
very, tiny nuclear reactor which provided his body with
electricity. "Very efficient," Arnie's remarks were about it. He
explained how Michael was created with a compartmentalized
systemic operating system, essentially running an operating
system called "OS/9". He explained how each of his systems and
subsystems were controlled by their own autonomous CPUs all
controlled by a series of 8 Motorola 68080 CPUs. One or more
Motorola 68020 CPUs controlled each of his subsystems.
Arnie found the system console jack inside Michael's chest
(RS-485) and helped Julie wire up a communications cable from her
linux box so she could use minicom to communicate with his main
processors and operating system.
"So what happened to me the other night," Michael asked, to noone
in particular.
Arnie couldn't help but bust out laughing as he started to
explain. "You weren't," he said; his laughter getting stronger.
"You weren't Y2K compliant!" he finished, resting his hand on
Michael's shoulder. "Your memory management subroutines rolled
back to epoch (January 1, 1970, 00:00:00) but since you weren't
created then, there were no files to access - your kernel
panicked."
"Oh and by the way, dude," he went on, muting his previous
laughter in the process. "I'd stay away from any past-life
regression therapy if I were you! You'd probably flip out."
Michael knew all about kernel panics, and Unix in general - he
was a Unix developer. This whole scenario probably explained why
he's attracted to the operating system so much.
About this time, Julie came back down with Michael's sweat
pants. She tossed them to him and he quickly put them on.
"Anything we can do about this," he motioned to the prevalent
hard-on sticking out through his pants. Michael tried pushing his
still erect cock down into his pants leg, but it seemed to make
the 'problem' only more visible.
"Uh," Julie began to say; her giggles impairing her speech. "That
system is, pardon the pun -- hung," she continued - breaking out
into hard laughter. "I need to remove it and reset it," she
continued, composing herself in the process. "But we can deal
with that, later."
She removed the communications cable which she had inserted into
his chest earlier and closed it up.
"Let's all go upstairs," Julie suggested. "It's too cold down
here."
Jules and Arnie motioned for Michael to go ahead of them up the
stairs. He found this quite odd; usually he let Julie lead. Was
she afraid of him, or were they afraid he might fall down so they
could catch him?
He quickly headed for the bar in the living room to fix myself a
shot of tequila. As he placed the shotglass on the counter and
began pouring; Arnie was standing next to Julie and he cleared
his throat.
"What?" Michael asked.
Arnie looked down at the shotglass and then up at him. "You don't
need that," he said.
"Yeah, I guess it's kinda moot at this point, huh?"
Michaelreplied.
He walked upstairs to their bedroom to get a shirt on. Android,
or no android; Julie had set the thermostat way low and he was
cold. H found his robe and put it on. At the very least, it
covered the embarrassing predicament he was currently carrying.
As he walked down the stairs, he could see Arnie was quietly
talking to Julie about something. He couldn't quite make out what
they were saying; but whatever it was, it was obvious they didn't
want him to hear.
Walinkg into the family room, he sat down in his chair and picked
up a magazine to skim through. Arnie and Julie soon followed,
together.
"Arnie," he said, setting the magazing down and sitting up in the
chair. "I appreciate everything you've done for me the past
several days but I think Julie and I can handle it from here."
He got up, and approached him. "Thanks again, for all your help,"
he said, not giving him a chance to interject anything. "I'll see
you at the office tomorrow." Escorting him to the door. "Oh, and
Arnie?" "Not a word of this to anybody. If I find out you've told
anyone about this house's little 'secret'; I'll be forced to let
everyone know how you've been embezzling money from the company."
Arnie stood there for a second, his mouth partly opened and
paused. Gently Michael reached up to close his mouth, and perhaps
Arnie thought Michael was going to hit him again or something,
since he stepped away, turned around, and walked to his car.
When Michael saw him get into his car, he closed the door, and
locked it. As he turned around, he saw Julie standing in the
hall; her arms folded across her chest.
"That was rude," she said.
"I don't want to hear it, Jules. Not now."
"He's only trying to help!" she continued. "What if you break,
again?"
"I don't trust him, Jules."
She stopped him as he walked past her, and threw him around to
face her. "Do you trust ME," she asked?
Pausing for a moment - and now, thinking back, it was probably a
millisecond too long, he replied with, "Of course."
"Hrumph," was all she said as she let him go.
He sat down in his chair and turned on the TV. Family Matters was
on TBS. It was the episode where Urkel was putting the finishing
touches on his Urkel-Bot. He hated Family Matters, including
Urkel. Jules was in the kitchen fixing herself a drink.
"Talk about a fake!" he exclaimed out loud, looking at the
'Urkel-Bot', which looked like a cross between the tin-man and
Michael Jackson.
Julie smiled and walked over to him and sat in his lap, setting
her Coke down on the end table.
"You're the real thing," she said; reaching up to kiss him. She
began stroking his cock with her hand. "Does Mr. Happy want to
play?" she asked.
"Not right now," he replied.
"Mmmmmmm," she moaned. "Your mouth says 'No' but Mr. Happy says
'Yes'," she said.
"No it's not," he said; slapping his hand against the side of the
chair. "Remember?"
She moved her hand away from his cock and caressed his face. "I'm
sorry, baby," she said. "I forgot."
"I don't know what I'm gonna do about it," he said, sighing. "I
can't go into work with a raging hard-on." He began to feel like
an animated commercial for Viagara, or something.
"Who said anything about going into work tomorrow?" she
questioned.
Now, at this point he was becoming a little annoyed with her.
"Who's going to pay the mortgage?" he returned.
She stopped caressing his cheek for a moment, and looked him in
his eyes. "Good point."
She stayed there in his lap for the next several hours while they
watched TV. He knew she was horny; and he didn't say anything,
but she couldn't keep her hands out out from under his robe as
she was stroking his cock back and forth. By the end of it all,
he had to admit; he was getting a little turned on himself.
"What did you do," she asked him.
"What do you mean?"
"I think you're getting turned on," she continued. She pulled her
hand out of his robe; which has been in there for the past hour
or so. Her fingers were dripping with his juices.
"Yeah, I think you're right," he said, a sly grin plastered
across his face.
Something Arnie said earlier though was sticking in his mind. Did
he truly love Julie (and for that matter, love fucking her) or
was he simply programmed to fuck her?
She jumped up off his chair, and grabbed his hand to follow her.
Throwing off her blouse as she made it to the hall, he wasn't far
behind her. She raced up the stairs to their bedroom. He found
her shorts on the floor at the middle of the flight. As they
entered their bedroom; she was spread out naked on their bed.
He hopped up on top of her, withhis pants still on. She wrapped
her arms around his shoulders, and pulled him down so she could
kiss him.
"Android or not," she told him. "I still love you," she said.
"As do I, you," he replied; kissing the tip of her nose.
"Granted," she said, interrupting. "I love your cock better," she
said, laughing; picking her feet up to grab the belt of his robe
with her toes.
"Well," he quickly replied, "I'll try not to let it let you
down."
"I don't think you could at it's current state," she finished
giggling at the process of pulling the robe's belt off.
Gently, he guided his cock into her with his hand as she wrapped
her legs around his waist.
"Ouch!" she said unexpectedly.
"What?"
"I'm just not used to your 'RoboCock Version 2.0'" she said
smiling.
"Remind me to ask you what and how you did that when we're
finished," he whispered to her.
Julie adjusted herself to a more comfortable position and pulled
him deep inside her.
She moaned with delight.
The next 2 hours, they fucked. Missionary. Sixty-nine. Doggy.
Riding the pony. She even asked him to fuck her in the ass! She
never asked him to do that before.
Michael counted close to 20 orgasms throughout their marathon
love-making session. He could tell she was beginning to get
tired, so he decided they'd finish where they'd started.
About this time, she asked him why he hadn't come yet. He told
her I was waiting for her first. She asked him to come, so he
withdrew from her and finished off by spewing onto her stomach.
They layed together for a few moments before she got up to go
take a shower. On her way there, she threw him a towel to wipe
himself as she closed the door.
He layed back onto the bed and smoked a cigarette.
"Guess I don't need to worry about these killing me anymore," he
thought to himself; flipping on the TV.
As he finished his second smoke, she emerged from the shower
naked and damp. He leaned over to kiss her, then got up to take a
shower, himself.
When he got into the bathroom, he stared at his naked body in the
mirror for a little bit, and wondered if he would short out as he
entered the shower. Quickly, he dispelled this notion since he's
taken thousands of showers before with no problems.
Facing himsself, he took his thumbs and depressed where Julie had
depressed earlier that evening. Sure enough; just as before, his
chest opened up!
He straddled the toilet next to the shower - it was closer to the
full length mirror since it didn't have the sink in the way. He
couldn't help but take a closer look.
One of the things Michael immediately noticed were two rows of 8
pin DIP switches towards the center. All switches were on with
the exception of the last. He was curious as to what these did!
Reaching into the drawer to grab the tweezers, he gently pushed
the last one up.
Immediately after doing this, he felt strange. His eyes went
black, and he couldn't move. Strange enough, he still was
conscious; or so he thought.
A few seconds later, he was still standing in that same position;
his hand still holding the tweezers in the exact same position.
Only this time; things looked a little strange!
Closing his left eyelid, his field of view was divided into four
quadrants. He could see four panes of the same picture (They all
went black as his eyelids closed). One was labeled "IR", one was
labeled "UV", one was labeled "STD" and one was labeled
"REP/PREV".
He reopened his left eyelid.
Next, he closed his right eyelid. Again, the field of view in
that eye was divided into quadrants. This eye, however, was laid
out a little different than the others. One screen was labeled
"CON", and had green text on a black background. There was a
flashing cursor, but the text was too small for him to make out.
The next screen was labeled "STAT". It had a graphical menu, with
a wire-framed outline of what looked like his body. The other
screen, marked "PROG" was itself divided into two more
equidistant panes. The top pane had code scrolling by so rapidly
it was blurred. The bottom had a flashing cursor. Last, the
fourth pane was labeled "DIAG". It had a more general picture
outlined picture of himself. It kind of reminded him of the Ford
cars that had the outlines of the vehicles with LEDs which showed
you if the trunk lid wasn't closed.
He reopened his right eyelid.
Again he paused, looking straight ahead. he realized that
whatever he did to himself, that this was going to make it a
little more difficult to concentrate on what he was doing, or
seeing.
"I wish things were somewhat back to normal," I thought to
himself.
Almost immediately after finishing the thought; his eyes became
somewhat normal again! Both fields of view were occupied again by
a color image. The three other images in his left eye minimized
down to very tiny icons toward the bottom; and the four
"consoles" which were occupying his right eye 10 seconds ago,
were reduced as well.
"This is cool," he thought.
Just then, he could hear Julie yelling to him, "Hurry up in
there!" she said.
He felt like a kid with a new toy.
He took his hands and closed his chest back up and examined it in
the mirror.
Not a seam was visible! He had to find out more about myself, and
who created him; but all that could wait for another time.
Starting the shower, he proceeded to step in and bathe.
"114 deg. F" appeared in his consciousness. Instead of just
'feeling' if something was too hot or too cold before; he
actually knew the temperature now! "This was cool." he thought.
As he moved down past his waist to wash his groin; he noticed
that his cock was no longer hard. It was hanging down to the left
like it normally did, and it was definitely bigger.
"What a relief," he thought to myself. He had already decided
that he would telecommute tomorrow if it was still a visible
'problem' in the morning.
Michael finished showering, and dried off. When he walked out of
the bathroom, Julie was in her night-shirt under the covers.
"What were you doing in there," she asked?
Climbing into bed -- he always slept naked -- he explained to her
how I was 'examining' himsself a little more.
She reached down to feel his cock and moved the flaccid pole from
one side to the other.
"Aww," she said. "You got rid of Mr. Happy."
"It went away while I was showering," he cajoled her.
"Hopefully not for good," she continued, moving her hand up his
body to caress his cheek. She told him good-night and kissed his
other cheek as she drifted off into sleep.
That night, he couldn't sleep. It wasn't like he needed to, at
this point.
He spent the next 7 hours exploring his consciousness.
Michael soon learned the "IR" camera was extremely cool; it
converted infra-red into visible light. He could now see in the
dark and tell if someone was running a fever; all in one fell
swoop.
The "UV" camera was a little more obscure. It converted
ultra-violet into visible light. He wasn't sure where or how he
would use this new "gift" but none the less, he couldn't wait for
the sun to come up and test it out.
The main camera was marked "STD". Michael assumed it stood for
'standard'. The only other thing he could come up with is that
maybe it was a camera for seeing if people had any sexually
transmitted diseases. He dismissed that latter thought almost
immediately.
The camera marked "REP/PREV" wasn't actually a camera he soon
realized. It was more of a VCR. He thought about the shower just
a few minutes ago, and the scenes were replaying in the window.
As soon as he wished the screen was bigger, it maximized to
occupy his entire field of view.
"So I just think what I want and it happens," he thought to
myself.
"Go, go, gadget legs!"
He tried thinking back to him laying on the workbench down in the
basement. As soon as he finished his thought, the images of
himself staring over at Julie working at her keyboard appeared.
He could even hear the sound of the furnace.
Next, Michael thought back to New Year's Eve. He replayed he and
Julie both climaxing as the clock struck midnight over about 50
times. Each time, as his 'self' crashed, the screen became all
garbled and distorted, and then black.
He thought back to last week. Arnie was telling the same stupid
joke about the difference between geeks and lawyers.
He thought back to last month. Julie and he had went out to
T.G.I. Fridays for dinner. He remembered clearly now how the
waiter sucked, and he didn't tip him very well. The taste of the
steak and beer from that dinner though was as strong as if he'd
just ate there 2 hours ago.
He tried to remember as far back as he possibly could. The first
images were of him driving to the grocery store to get some
guavas.
"This is odd," he thought. "I wondered if this thing just had a
rewind."
"Just rewind," he thought outloud.
Like pressing rewind on a DVD player; faster and faster, strange
images appeared. He tried to keep up with them, but couldn't.
Images that looked like combat exercises. Images of him, holding
machine guns, shooting at targets; and at people. Images of him
in an operating room, or possibly a lab.
Men, women.
Strange men, and women. People he didn't know before. Army, Navy,
Air Force, and Marine uniforms. All ranks. Men in lab coats.
More images of himself.
Unassembled.
"Pause," he thought.
The timestamp read February 1, 1997, 18:11 GMT. There was his
head, sitting on a workbench, supported by a stand. A rather
stout man sitting next to him with a beard, was working at a
keyboard.
Arms were to the left of him, his legs were to the right.
His hand, on the other side of him; was attached to a robot arm,
not unlike the kind you'd see in an automobile assembly plant
(though much smaller).
"Play," he thought again.
The images rolled forward. There was no audio.
A woman was behind the man who was sitting next to his head. She
was working at another table. Her back was to him so he couldn't
see exactly what she was doing until she moved. Then he realized.
There in front of his eyes was his lower torso; rather his hips,
supported on the table by another harness. Out in front, sticking
straight up in the air, was his cock!
She walked over to him, or rather to the stout man sitting next
to him and the two went over to it. Next, she got a tray sitting
next to her and held it out in front of his cock. Last. she
reached over to her keyboard and pressed a few more buttons.
He came.
God, did he feel embarrassed at this point, looking at himself.
She was jumping up and down with joy, and the stout man was
patting her on the back.
A moment later, several other people entered the area, and she
pressed the button again.
He came, again.
One woman pressed a few more buttons and his cock spewed jism
extremely rapidly. The woman who was sitting there before gently
pushed the other woman away, pressed a few more buttons, and it
stopped.
Michael's cock went limp, and the woman set the tray underneath
it to catch the drainage.
He had to stop this; he was getting too depressed, and looked at
the clock next to the bed which said midnight.
"Why is everyone so fascinated with my cock," he wondered.
He spent the rest of the night exploring different parts of his
new gifts. Putting on his robe, he went downstairs to the
basement and watched the rest of the videotape which Julie had
recorded New Years.
It looks like she called Arnie over quite soon after she started
recording. He was there in about an hour, and did help her with
him. He also helped himself to him, too; which Michael wished he
never saw!
Several hours into the tape, you could tell Julie was quite
tired. Arnie suggested to her to go to bed. She agreed, and
walked up the stairs.
Arnie didn't notice the camera propped up on the shelf recording
the whole incident.
A few minutes after Julie left, he approached Michael, whose legs
were dangling off the long end of the table.
"You're an ASFR's fan dream come true," he said aloud.
"ASFR?! What the hell is ASFR," Michael thought to myself.
The next several minutes shocked and angered him immensely. Arnie
proceeded to violate his limp body there on the table.
Not once, but twice; he thrust his cock deep into his ass,
picking his legs up over his shoulders beforehand so he could
'get in'. When he was finished fucking him, he grabbed his cock
in his hands and proceeded to give him a blowjob.
Michael was now pissed. He was furious! He wanted to drive over
to Arnie's apartment right now and beat the living shit out of
him.
He felt hurt, abused, and violated.
Michaek knew he had to come up with a way to get even with him,
somehow. It wasn't like he could go to the cops with any of this.
The rest of the tape was pretty benign. Arnie didn't violate him
anymore - that he could tell. He finished watching the tape
around 3am, took it out of the player and destroyed it.
Michael next looked over Julie's notes a bit. She apparently
'explored' him a little more than Arnie did. She, he didn't mind!
She made detailed drawings of the inside of his chest, arms,
torso, back, etc.
It was really quite fascinating to him.
Michael was absorbing all of her notes when he didn't notice the
time until he heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
"Honey," Julie said as she peeked around the corner. "There you
are!" she said.
She came over to him and gave me a big hug. "I got worried about
you when I woke up and you weren't in the bed," she said.
"I was doing some introspection," he told her.
She picked up the crumpled videotape sitting on the floor.
"What's this?" she asked. "Why did you destroy the tape?"
"There was nothing on there worth watching."
"Fuck you, then," she yelled. "I wanted to keep it for
posterity!"
Trying to contain himself, he explained to her how if the tape
fell into the wrong hands, that they both could be in deep shit.
"You're right, as usual," she said; reaching up to kiss him.
She took his hand and guided him back up the stairs.
When the two got up to the main floor of the house, Julie
proceeded to begin fixing breakfast. Michael refastened his robe,
and walked outside to pick up the paper. The sun was just about
to come up.
As he opened the door, he thought of turning on the UV camera and
magically his entire field of view was transformed. Beautiful
hues of blue, violet, red, and magenta emanated in waves from
behind the landscape.
Everything else was kind of eerie looking. He could make out the
grass and windows in his neighbors' house - but everything else
was black. The wood, and concrete didn't reflect the UV rays
hardly at all.
He thought of what the outside would look like in infrared. Just
like before, immediately after he finished his thought the view
changed.
Michael found that this was even more beautiful than the last!
Shades of red to white filled the sky. Magenta streaks laid upon
the asphalt from Mr. River's car tires next door, who worked
nights at a meat-packing plant and always came home in the early
morning hours.
He saw the heat from a squirrel, sleeping up in the tree.
"Fucking amazing," he said out loud.
Michael picked up the morning's Atlanta Journal Constitution,
turned around, and walked back inside. Julie set down some coffee
for him at the table, and he opened the paper.
As soon as he read the front-page, something deep inside me told
me to turn the page. He did; and 500 milliseconds later, he was
finished looking at the next page.
This continued for about 2 minutes. He finished all the sections
of the paper and set it down for Julie.
"Nothing interesting worth reading," she asked him; glancing at
the paper as he pushed it to her.
"Very," Michael told her. "I finished reading it!"
Picking up the paper for herself, she looked at him from behind
the pages, "You couldn't do that before," she said.
"I couldn't do a lot of things before," he told her. "The coffee
you and I are drinking; it's exactly 132 degrees Farenheit in
temperature." He went on, "The toast, it's 103 deg. F. It's 71
deg. F in this room, with a 42% relative humidity."
She laughed as she set her paper down. "My boyfriend has been
turned into a walking meteorological station."
Michael finished the toast and went upstairs to get dressed. He
put on his briefs and socks, picked a suitable shirt out of the
closet, and put on his jeans and belt.
While looking at himself in the mirror, he noticed the new
"bulge" in his pants. Julie had given him another 3 inches to his
man-hood, and it was now visible in his jeans. He debated
untucking his shirt but figured he'd leave it as it is. Untucked
shirts were against the corporate climate of his office.
Michael came downstairs, kissed her good-bye, and got into his
car and headed to work.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Let me know what you think! Email Me!
This story is available at the following places:
* http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/cyberczar/www/ *
* mailto:cyberczar@despammed.com *
Copyright (c) 1999-2001. All Rights Reserved.
________________________________________________________________________
Protect your privacy! - Get Freedom 2.0 at http://www.freedom.net
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository |
|<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+