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Subject: {ASSM} Journal Entry 103 / 01175  [ Nudes Defending A Staircase ]  (MF, Mf, scfi, robots)
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Date: Wed, 15 Sep 2004 01:10:03 -0400
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Nudes Defending a Staircase
Elenya, Lothess 06, 1175

Somehow, it didn't seem right depopulating New York. But it does feel
much better this way, I have to admit. I looked out over the railing
down onto the quiet streets below while the wind whipped  my long
hair around my face, threatening once again to flay my eyes. I had
forgotten a simple elastic with which to tie my hair back. Although
I had long ago become accustomed to carrying  one--  living  with
Aaden  and  learning to fly myself had made it a necessity-- I hadn't
figured on being anyplace particularly windy this evening.

A  city that once held sixteen million people, now it was barely
populated by half a million.  Those  half  million, and the attendant
untold numbers of robots, tended to the city and kept it  intact. It
was now, like many of the places that dotted the land, a monument, a
museum to a  time  that  had existed long ago. Those half million kept
parts of this museum looking and sounding  like  it had at various
points in its history. Parts of the city functioned as they always
had. Broadway still had plays every night, and the jazz clubs and
mosh pits still ran as  expected.  Sure,  they  were  cleaner  now,
without homeless urinating in the streets or muggers  hiding  in
alleyways. Some people felt that took the edge off New York City,
that it wasn't  the same place without the danger. I suppose. In the
one percent of the galaxy we had so  far explored there were plenty
of places someone could get themselves into trouble. Earth didn't
have to be one of them anymore.

I  felt  a  little  ambivalent  about  attending  another of
Ally's parties, er, orgies. They weren't the usual kinds of events
I attended. But somehow I found it fascinating to attend an orgy
on  the  roof  of  the Empire State Building, or the observation
deck at any rate. This wasn't the original Empire State, but the
third building to occupy this plot of land and call itself  such,
and it looked exactly like the original one built in 1913. Not
all the details were  precise-inside  was  rather  different  from
the original, keeping up with the times in terms  of  construction
and  materials  technologies.  The  glass  was  now all some sort of
transparent  ceramic  material.  Even  though  there was a staircase
there were no elevators; people took SDisks from floor to floor. The
dirigible anchor was actually in use these days-- one  company  had
reconstructed the Hindenburg, although now inflated with helium and
getting the needed extra life from gravitics systems. It was quite
the tourist attraction.

I walked back through the swinging glass doors and into a blast of
conversational noise. Most of  the  people  here  were  from  Pendor,
and most of them I had encountered in one guise or another over the
course of the years. There were some people here I had tried to get
my hands on  in  the  past and some I would never want to lay hands
on in a million years. As I walked through, the crowd seemed to part
around me and I recognized someone I had not anticipated. I walked
up  to the very lovely Ebele Zapata and held out my hand. "Madame
President, it is so good to meet you again. I had not expected you
at such an undignified event."

Those  almond-shaped  eyes  of  dark  black  flashed  with her
smile. "Shardik," she replied, holding  out her hand, cupped
downwards. I recognized the gesture and returned it, taking her hand,
turning  it  upwards  and  kissing the palm gently. She seemed honestly
pleased by the intimacy  I  had  just taken, but then, at an orgy, I
wondered, what would constitute excess?  "How is it undignified? This
is not something I'm attending as an official capacity. Besides,
I'm retired. Like you, I hear."

"If you're retired the way I am, Madame President, then you are not
retired at all."

"Precisely,"  she said. She looked glorious in a white strap gown that
reached for the floor, hugging  her curves on the way down and showing
off her lovely anatomy underneath. I was sure that,  unfortunately,
her body was the result of nanosculpture, but in the 11th Century
that was little surprise. It was nice to see that she had resisted
the current trend towards large breasts,  a  trend  I  thought  would
have looked utterly strange on her Asian frame. On the whole,  though,
she  looked  great. Her black hair, cropped short, flowed around her
head in waves every time she turned to look or greet someone.

"Enjoying yourself?" a familiar voice said in my ear. "Where are you
loved ones?"

"Not  on  Earth,"  I  replied to Ally as she greeted me. One of the
lovelier creatures I have ever  had  the  pleasure  of  knowing,
Ally  and  her  sister  were  still  some of the more inscrutable.
She  had had her body modified several centuries ago, adding very
felinoid ears to  her otherwise normal-appearing head. As a Satryl,
they made her seem even more a cat than she  would  have  appeared
when naked, and they were large even for a Felinzi, but they were
well-proportioned by her usually well-teased hair. She looked like
she should be some popular star of the sort whose fortunes seem to
come and go with the decades, not the social director for  a  horny
subsector  of  the Pendorian population. There were some aspects
of her chosen profession  that  disturbed  me  personally,  such
as  her  decision  to  allow  the  use of recreational  chemicals
and  erotica  androids  at her parties. If one is going to use drugs
during  lovemaking,  there  should  be  some controls on the use--
an orgy is not the sort of place one gets that.

"That's too bad. I like Aaden." She kissed my cheek, and I gave her
a hug. She still wore the earring  I  had given her many years ago
in one of those large and beautiful ears. "How's the transition going?"

"Much  smoother  since  I got both the Moslems and the Jews to accept
that I was not going to change  the Temple Mount one bit. Well,
smoother for me at any rate. They can continue hating each  other
all  they  want, but they're not going to hate me, except perhaps
for not coming over to their cause. I want no part of it."

She nodded. "Well, enjoy the party. And try not to talk too much
politics, huh?"

"I'll  do that," I assured her, turning around to try and find
President Zapata once again. I found  her  sitting on a couch, a
glass of wine in her hand, looking somewhat forlorn. I took my  own
glass  from  a passing waiter, insisting on something non-alcoholic,
and joined her.  "Madame Pres-"

"Ebele, Shardik."

"Then you had better call me 'Ken.'"

"Ken," she agreed. "So, since this is something of an intimate
get-together, can I put you on my dance card?"

"You  certainly  can,"  I enthusiastically agreed. My heart warmed
at the idea that she might want  me,  since  she  could have just
about anyone she wanted. A small child ran between us, interrupting
our conversation. She had a mass of golden, curly hair, gold-tinted
lipstick and dark  eyeshadow, and wore a one-piece see-through leotard
with spaghetti-thin straps over the shoulders.  I  gritted  my teeth
angrily as she walked by; I could feel my heartbeat rev with desire
and my mind react with shock and horror to the sensation.

"It's not real, you know," Ebele said calmly, noticing my
reaction. "The paedomorphic erotica androids  are  designed to make
you feel that way." She glanced at it. "It's hair is probably perfumed
with phermones."

"Well,  at  least the AIs know who buys them and so can make sure
they don't graduate to real children," I sighed. "I just resent the
image. Guess I've raised too many kids at my age."

"So  you  know how I feel too," she said with a murmur. "The trouble I
have with them is that their  owners usually have never had their own
children. That means they still have the right to bear them, but..."

I  nodded,  understanding  clearly where her train of thought
pointed. "If they have children then what will their sexual tastes
be like?"

"We  are into a depressing subject," she sighed, her fingers caressing
my bare arm gently. "I like  the  vest  look. And you have no chest
hair. Very refreshing. But then when bare chests without hair become
the fashion again you will be just another right with the times."

I chuckled. "It's true that if you stand still you become fashionable
again."

"Within limits," she pointed out cheerfully. "Oh, look." She pointed.

The  chasers  had  begun. A couple in a corner, both human, had started
to get heavy with one another.  Both had the kinds of builds reserved
for erotica stars-both clearly spent too much time  either  in  a
gymnasium  or a nanosurgeon's office. She had the sleek lines and
hidden muscles  every  woman  dreamed  of  but  few  were  born  to;
he had the visible muscles and pronounced  bulge  every  man could
now have but few truly earned. I leaned over to Ebele. "I thought
the big dick thing was over."

"Not  on Mars," she replied. "They're always a year or two behind
us. And for shows like this I  doubt  it will ever go out of
fashion. He must have something that can be seen in the back of
the room."

I  took  her  point  to heart and watched the show
emerging. Predictable to a fault, he knelt before  her  as  she  slowly
unzipped  the tight, white pants that easily wrapped themselves around
her frame. The cloth seemed to melt at her touch, the front draping
down like a panel to  reveal  a  bare groin unfettered by public
hair. He applied his fingers to her thighs and his mouth to her cunt,
licking and kissing his way between her lips. She held his head in
her hands,  silently  commanding  him to continue his duty. At first
her face looked serious, but soon  it became clear that this couple,
for all their artificial faults, enjoyed their chosen profession.
Her  mouth  became wide and a loud moan escaped her. His enthusiasm for
her cunt was  obvious  in the way he pushed against her; her enthusiasm
for his attention reflected in the way she held his head to her crotch.

Although  the  buildup  had  been  loud,  her  orgasm overtook her
silently, shudders running through her as he give her a few final laps.

By  now the crowd had gotten the energy the two chasers had been
putting out and clothes were being shed left and right. I decided to
join in the appearance, if not the action, tossing my vest aside. Ebele
gave me a wide smile and kissed my chest delicately. "Should we join
in the fun?" I asked.

"Let's,"  she  agreed. Standing, she allowed me to remove her dress
over her head. Underneath it  she  wore  nothing  at  all. She returned
the favor by pulling at the tab holding my kilt closed,  allowing
it  to drop to the floor. We resumed our place on the couch, but this
time she  pressed  me  down into the soft folds of leather with her
own body, leaning over me. Her small  breasts  brushed  against  my
chest. My hands sought her ass and held her to me as our mouths met.

She  kissed  very well, her small tongue darting over my own,
seeming to stab at times as she rubbed  her body against mine. My
erection waved up between her legs, blindly seeking a tight spot  to
get into. As it batted against her thigh and got her attention she
whispered to me, "Shall we get started?"

"You're on top," I pointed out helpfully.

"So  I  am,"  she murmured as she lowered herself onto my cock. Her
warmth enveloped my shaft and  I  felt that warming descend the length
until she was sitting square on my hips, my cock buried completely
within her. She raised her head, her eyes closed, and moaned softly.

Bracing  herself  with both hands, one on the back and one on
the arm of the couch, she began to  pump  her hips in a circular
motion. "You've a very nice penis, Shardik," she said with a smile.

I  reached  up  and  took  her face in my hands, pulling us together
into a kiss. "Thank you, Madame President," I replied with a
whisper. "You've a very nice place for it."

"Mmm," she agreed.

I  touched  her  small  breasts  with  my  hands, allowing my
fingertips to brush against her nipples  with her every thrust. A
tough negotiator, she seemed just as solid a leader here in this
intimate  moment.  Somehow, though, her body maintained a delicate
look in either place and  as  I placed my hands on her I worried about
how much strength I could show and not hurt or break her. I decided I
was worrying too much and should follow the suggestions of my cock.
Those  intimate  tickles, the first sensations that lead to orgasm,
were already making their way  up  my  body.  I smiled up at her,
and she merely grinned back. "Enjoying yourself?" she asked.

"Almost  too  much," I replied, holding her hips and pressing upwards
with her every downward thrust.

"I  thought you liked your sex a little... mph... rougher." She
pressed down hard on the root of my cock and I could feel the head
nestling up inside her.

I  laughed.  "I'm  not the first historical figure to make his sex
life a central part of his own record, but I might regret it more
than most."

"Most of them aren't around to regret it anymore," she pointed out.

"I  like  my  lovemaking  any  way it happens to come to me." I raised
my head and kissed her nipple  playfully.  It  hardened at my slight
suggestion. Intrigued, I wrapped my lips around it, flicking it with
my tongue. She whimpered, "Carefully... tickles."

"Bad or good?" I asked.

"It's good," she said. "But very sensitive."

"Mmm."  I played with her nipples with just my lips, kissing one,
then the other. Her breasts were little more than small mounds in
her chest, barely enough to experience one gravity. Her hips  became
urgent and her downward thrusts rocked both me and the couch. "Don't
stop," she whispered.

Too  busy  to  reply,  I enjoyed the sensations she aroused in me as
our lovemaking took on a natural  urgency.  I  pressed upwards as she
came down and my cock found its mark at the very end  of  her  cunt.
She moaned with every stroke until suddenly she threw her head back
in a loud, high moan that must have carried through the busy room.

"Whew," I said. "Nice."

"Yeah," she said. "You're still hard."

"Haven't come yet," I pointed out.

"Let me help with that," she said, shimmying down the length of my
body to reach my cock.

"Ebele... why are you doing all the work?"

"Because  I'm  a  take-charge  fem, Ken, didn't you know that?" She
laughed before kissing my scrotum softly. "Besides, it always seems to
me that you're running everything. Let me do it.  I  like being able
to please you." Her lips kissed the root of my cock and she worked
her way up the length of it, one delicate hand pointing it towards the
ceiling. That darting tongue I had  experienced  at  the beginning of
the evening was now even more active all over my cock, tickling  the
head,  probing  at  the  opening at the tip until she opened her lips
wide and slowly  took the head completely into her mouth. The soft
texture of her tongue on the bottom and  the  solid  ridge  of  her
palette  on  top  combined to take me to wondrous heights of pleasure.

I decided to do as she suggested and allowed her to have her way with
me. Delicate fingertips probed  at  my asshole and tickled my flesh
as her mouth caressed my cock. I had been closing in  on an orgasm
when Ebele came and I had had little time to recover. Her black
hair bounced with every stroke on my cock and her fingers finally
invaded between my cheeks and made their way  deeper  into  my  body.
I  gasped  as two fingers tried to find my prostate. "Fingers-"
gasped. "Don't press too hard."

It  was  her  turn  not  to  respond.  But she was marvelous with her
tongue and fingers. She discovered  the secret of my asshole as her
fingers stroked in and out, avoiding the prostate almost  entirely.
It  worked  much better that way, even if after a while the saliva
she had used  to  get  in there started to dry out. It didn't matter
much. My groin was wound tighter than  an ancient Swiss watch and
with a gentle lick she ripped a scream out of me as I pumped semen
down her throat. I thought I heard explosions.

I shook my head violently enough to send beads of sweat flying off
my long hair. "Oh, Ebele!"  I  gasped.  She grinned up at me, her
long tongue licking little traces of white off her lip.  "Let  me,"
I  said,  kissing her and joining in the fun of cleaning up. Then I
heard another explosion.

"What  the  Hell  was  that?"  I  asked. The sounds of gunfire caught
my attention. "Fuck!" I shouted.

"Ken, four armed gunmen heading up the staircase," a voice shouted
over the speakers. "I have the  rescue  team  on  the  way  but
you're  going to have to hold them off for at least two minutes!"

"Thanks, Athena," I gasped. I crossed my arms at the wrist and the
microSDisks embedded there summoned  a  large  caliber  pistol-about
the maximum size they could carry. I checked it for ammunition
and  appreciated its heft. I ran to the stairs as the crowd, dazed
and shocked by the  announcement, tried to come to its collective
senses. Given the drugged state of some of the  participants,  I
doubted  that  would  ever happen. I opened the door to the stairs
and looked  down.  A  head  poked  itself  up,  carrying a gun, and
I unloaded four rounds in its direction.  Ebele  surprised  me by
appearing at my side. "Do you have another one of those?"  she asked.

"Athena?"

"Ready when you are."

A  pistol materialized in my left hand. I gave it to her, summoned
another one and gave it to Ally, who had likewise joined me. "Dammit,
how did this happen?"

"I  have  no idea," Ally said. The crowd behind her was already
screaming, in full panic, but we  were blocking the one exit. She
shouted to them, "Go to the far corner of the observation deck!"

"They  appeared  on  the  thirtieth floor," Athena said. "Sdisk on
a customized key, I guess.  Yes, I've found it. And I've disabled it."

"Thanks."

"They've  disabled  the  fire  controls in the stairwell so I can't
take them out with oxygen supressors. They appear to be carrying
their own air as well."

"Figures,"  I  growled.  I  spotted a figure in the back of the
room. I pointed to her. "You, come here."

The  figure,  that  of  a  girl  barely  ten years old,
approached. "Maintence Mode. Make and model," I said.

"I  am  a  custom  build,"  it  replied  calmly.  "My  frame is from
a Medical Training Unit, Pediatric Care Seventeen Series, Martian
Metals Manufacturing."

"How much do you weight?" I asked.

"My  mass is approximately 225 kilograms, but with gravitics systems
my apparent weight is 40 dekanewtons on Earth."

"Are you sentient?"

"Of course not."

I almost laughed. "They're about to storm the stairways."

I  grabbed the robot and used it as a sheild. "Get behind me!" I
shouted as whoever they were started to run up the stairs. I started
to run down. I crouched down-- damn, this thing had a small  waist--
qand  fired  at  them  as  they  came up the stairs. They were armored,
but a headshot  took  one  down.  Bullets  slammed past me, and into
the robot, as I fired randomly around  its  small  figure.  This  was
a lot messier than the last gunfight I was in, down on llerkin. And
then, mysteriously, they all vanished.

"I  put  a  shuttle  next  to  the  building  and  aported  them,"
Athena said. "They are now comfortably in a holding cell. We will
deal with them next."

Then  the  building  shook,  the  walls roared, and plaster fell
from the ceiling. I heard an electronic  gasp.  "They...  they  blew
themselves up! I'm calling in serious weight," Athena said.

A  short occurred somewhere in the robot I was carrying and its
gravitics systems lost power.  I  couldn't  hold it up and dropped
it into the landing. It looked very sad, with its bright, smiling
face  and  cheerful,  immortally young body perforated with bullets. A
greyish-white hydraulic  fluid seeped onto the cement. "Do you realize
that thing cost me 37,000 Terras?" a voice shouted from the top of
the stairs.

I  walked  up  to the top of the stairs, trembling, still in
shock. I gave my pistol to Ally, who  didn't  look  any  better.  I
swallowed. "Money well spent," I said through a thick, dry tongue. "It
just saved your miserable life." I glanced down the stairwell. "You
can afford to replace it." I took a deep breath. "Better yet, find
a healthier hobby."

I turned to Ally. "No harm done. Next time..."

"There won't be a next time," Ally said. "I'll have better security. I
had no idea..."

I nodded. I took Ebele's hand-- she was pale. My
timing could have been better as she fainted away.
________________________________________________________________________________________

Journal Entry 103 / 01175
Nudes Defending a Staircase

The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., and
Related Tales are Copyright (c) 1989-2004 Elf Mathieu Sternberg.
This work is distributed under the Creative Commons Attribution-
NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.0 license.  You are free to copy,
distribute, display, and perform the work under the following conditions:

o Attribution. You must give the original author credit.
o Noncommercial. You may not use this work for commercial purposes.
o Derivative Works. You may not alter, transform, or build upon this work.

For any reuse or distribution, you must make clear to others the license
terms of this work.  Any of these conditions can be waived if you get
permission from the copyright holder, Elf M. Sternberg (elf@drizzle.com).

--
Elf M. Sternberg
http://www.drizzle.com/~elf/  

Foras gradiamur.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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