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Message-ID: <55590asstr$1176250202@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Evil Nigel <useweb@nospam.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} GSN: The Last McCoy (Mgggg, oral, sci-fi)
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Date: Tue, 10 Apr 2007 20:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Blah blah standard disclaimers and exposition of rights blah blah.


                      The Last McCoy
                            by
                        Evil Nigel

                   (h7n at yahoo dot com)

Clearing the whitefly from my carrots, I saw the spaceship land
through the plastiglass of my biodome. Actually the whitefly weren't
white and they couldn't fly, being some sort of indigenous parasite
which filled the traditional role of whitefly. And the carrots
weren't carrots either, but a bio-engineered rootcrop tailored to
conditions in the biodome.

I wondered who had come to visit me on my planetoid. I could make
out markings on the side of the spaceship - 'USS Russell Hoistigon".
Funny, they must have run out of numbers and resorted to using random
collections of letters.

Some time later, my security system alerted me to the presence of
visitors at the airlock to my living quarters. I picked up my
thesaurus as a precaution. On the video monitor I could tell they
were bots because all bots have a slightly unnatural way of moving,
and humans not wearing pressurised suits would have been suffering
distress in the thin atmosphere of the planetoid. There were four of
them, somewhat undersized, young and female in presentation, and
wearing some sort of strange uniform.

Even before the supermarket trolley war started, enlightened humans
had started to believe that supermarket trolleys were aliens with
minds of their own, but it was still a surprise when the trolleys
tried to take over the earth. After years of bloody conflict mankind
seemed to be losing the war, but defeat was averted by the actions of
seemingly innocent boy and girl scouts taking the trolleys by
surprise and throwing their leader into a canal. The negotiated peace
settlement included laws guaranteeing respect for non-carbon life
forms and the banning of uniforms except on police and the military.

Reassured by the uniforms, I put down the thesaurus and deactivated
the security lock. The four bots came through the airlock and stood
in a line, looking at me with disdain, red hair on the left, then
blonde, then black, then brunette on the right. These bots were
technologically extremely advanced, being able to display complex
facial expressions.

"Good day, officers. How may I help you?" I asked.

"Is this human for real?" whispered black-haired bot, the contempt
on her face echoed by the others.

"Are you 93644512 McCoy?" asked the blonde.

"That's me," I replied.

"We've been looking for you for a very long time," said the blonde.
"You are the last known legitimate descendant of Frank McCoy, the
patron saint of pubescent girls. Saint Frank established an enduring
universe-wide monopoly on Girl Scout Nookies, which you have now
inherited."

"But you're not Girl Scouts, you're bots," I observed.

More disdainful looks.

"Girl Scouts as such were abolished when everyone was given their
own planetoid and virtual meetings proved an adequate alternative.
However from the substantial profits generated by the Girl Scout
Nookie monopoly, state of the art Girl Scout bots were built to
fulfil the obligations," replied the blonde, who appeared to be the
spokesbot.

I looked at the bots closely. They were rather attractive in a
gamine, coquettish sort of way, with their tight uniforms
exacerbating their small chest bumps and their short skirts allowing
flashes of white panties."

"But I'm 900 years old, and I haven't had sex for 200 years. I'm not
sure I'm still capable," I said.

"Your penis thinks otherwise," replied the blonde, pointing to my
semi-erect member.

I must have been getting senile, forgetting to put clothes on when
receiving visitors.

"We each have three functional feminiform orifices into which you
are required to ejaculate at least four times a day. If you fail, you
will be reported under the 'Respect For Non-Carbon Life Form Laws'.
However we do have some chemical assistance for you should you need
it," the blonde continued.

The brunette came over to me and took my semi-erect penis in her
hand. The hand felt warm and fleshy, so despite the surprise at being
handled this way, I felt no discomfort until the sharp, stabbing pain
on the underside of my shaft.

"Ouch, what have you done to me?" I protested, as I pulled out of
the brunette's grasp and inspected my wounded penis, noticing a small
drop on blood on the underside near the base.

"Given you a bit of help," answered the brunette, "although it will
take a few minutes to have any effect."

The immediate effect was the exact opposite, with my wounded penis
shrinking almost to nothingness.

"While you're waiting, you might as well have a taste of what we
have to offer," said the black-haired bot, sliding her white panties
down her legs and over her feet. "Lie down on your back."

After I lay down, the black-haired bot came and squatted over my
face. Technologically it was a miracle, possessing all the
characteristics of a pubescent girl including a puffy-lipped hairless
vulva. I parted her pussy lips and inserted my tongue, feeling warm
flesh with a reminiscent taste. As I started licking, a tiny clit
poked out of its hood and the taste grew stronger - it was liquorice.
The bot grew damp and started sighing with pleasure.

"Why are you sighing?" I asked. "You're a bot and you don't have any
feelings."

"My sensors tell me that despite your appearance, you're actually
quite good at this and sighing is an appropriate response," the bot
replied.

I continued licking and the sighs grew louder. The pussy lips turned
pink and the vulval area became very wet. Liking the taste of
liquorice, I licked it up avidly. Suddenly the bot squealed, squirted
liquorice liquid into my mouth, and pulsated strongly around the
vulval area - the bot had orgasmed and ejaculated.

"That was adequate," commented the black-haired bot, as it rose up
with a discreet smile on its face.

My penis was feeling warm and tingly, but was still flaccid. The
black-haired bot was replaced by the red-haired bot. I licked it to
pseudoorgasm too, receiving a squirt of strawberry-flavoured liquid
as a reward. My penis was now almost half-mast. The red-haired bot
was replaced by the blonde-haired bot, which tasted of lemon when it
ejaculated. My penis was now almost fully erect. Finally my face was
mounted by the brunette bot. By the time it squirted its chocolate-
flavoured ejaculate into my mouth, my cock was like a baseball bat
and seeping precum.

"Looks like he's ready for us at last," commented the blonde
spokesbot. "Same order as before."

The brunette bot came over and straddled my hips. It was about to
mount my penis when there was a huge crash as something burst through
my airlock. It was another bot, presenting as an Amazonian female;
tall, muscular, huge breasts, short spiky blonde hair, clad in black
leather, or rather almost unclad, as apart from the boots, the
catsuit had been mostly cut away to reveal acres of realistic looking
flesh.

"Stop what you're doing!" the bot ordered.

The brunette bot dismounted, leaving my throbbing penis at full
mast, still leaking precum.

"Who are you?" I asked weakly. Breathing was beginning to be a
problem as my precious air escaped though the damaged airlock.

"Officerbot Sherry 91122476," the bot replied, indicated a small
name badge over its right breast. "Are these your bots?" asked
Officerbot Sherry, indicating the Girl Scout bots.

"No!" I gasped, panting in the thinning air, but my voice was
drowned out by the chorus of "yes" from the Girl Scout bots.

"Your bots are wearing uniforms in contravention of the 'Supermarket
Trolley Peace Treaty'. You must be punished," advised the Sherrybot.

Then the Sherrybot noticed my thesaurus and raging hard-on.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you," asked the Sherrybot, picking up
the thesaurus and striding purposely over to my prostate figure,
kneeling over me to pin me helplessly to the ground with her muscular
thighs.

I tried to deny it but I didn't have enough air to speak.

The Sherrybot whacked my hard-on with the thesaurus. I tried to
scream, but was let down by the burning emptiness in my lungs. My
chemically-induced hard-on stayed hard, continuing to leak precum.

"You pervert, you enjoy erotic asphyxiation don't you. Let's see how
long you can keep it up."

Whack. More pain from my penis. Whack, whack, whack. As the
atmospheric pressure inside my living quarters equalised with that of
the planetoid, I gratefully slipped into unconsciousness.

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