Humanity 2.0, Year 001, Day 007

HUMANITY 2.0

YEAR 001, DAY 007

I remember, when I was young and in the old world, how we used to carefully isolate "pornography" from other literature. We could have a novel; it could be adventure, romance, sci-fi, whatever - or - it could be porno. Back then, anything with good sex in it was called porno. Now here, I'm selfishly writing my autobiography so the future generations will have to put up with their great-grandfather's rambling on about the old days even if I'm not around... had my life story been published back then, somehow, there's no doubt in my mind that it would have been classed as 'pornography'.

Occasionally, as I write out in detail what wonderful sex I had with this girl or the other, because the story wouldn't be complete without it -- it occurs to me that, in the era I was born into, this would put my life story, or just about any of our modern literature, on the same shelf as the most mindless fuck-fest you can imagine, had it been sold in the time of my youth. Nobody would question that back then. It was just 'How Things Are'. Or 'Were', in this case.

It's yet those moments, and times we just let love for each other become something physical -- they define our lives so much. We think of it constantly, each for our own reasons, but we dwell on it all the time in our minds regardless. Nowadays, we understand sex not as simply procreation or recreation -- it's communication. There's information that can be expressed by two people having sex that can't be communicated any other way. Doubly true for basically all the rest of you, with your electrophoridae... only you can really describe what that's like, unfortunately. I'm never know the full extent of it.

The overwhelming bulk of you don't really think of this shift as being part of our culture at all, to you it's just always been how it is now. It's mainly those of us who were around in the old world, we know... and we appreciate just how far our society has come, how much easier it is for us to just be when we don't lack for the most basic satisfaction a person can have. Compared to the old world -- it's, as was said back then, night and day.

Forge ahead even when it seems useless. It's only when you get a few hundred years on you, like I have - and then some - that you'll begin to appreciate how far my... our... people have come.

Anyway, ummm... right. I was on the yacht. Wish I still had that thing... I had been sailing for about a day, mostly just watching the waves and thinking. Not about any kind of grand design or the society to come, or whatever, mind you -- I was scheming. What would I tell people? I had been gone for six days already, and it would be more than twenty before I was back.

The Experimenter had covered my tracks when it came to the university; she somehow managed to get them to give me a hardship withdrawal due to a "family emergency". She hadn't, however, furnished a good excuse to tell those who knew me, for why I would have disappeared for over three weeks right in the middle of exams.

On the second day, I checked my email. It was mostly class stuff, but there were nine emails from Emily. They started out concerned about my hospital visit, then confused when she got to Sacramento and wasn't able to find me anywhere. The tone of the emails grew increasingly frantic, then suddenly switched to straight-up rage -- after she apparently met up with Dr. Lazar. I grimaced.

Oh, boy. I really hoped they hadn't spoken long. My sister knew well how bad I was around girls; she made fun of me all the time for it. It didn't help that I wasn't much better around her... I'd never told her what a crush I had on her when we were young. With both our parents functionally out of the picture, she'd taken it upon herself to bug me every time we spoke about whether I'd found a girlfriend. If the good doctor told her even a little bit of what happened between us, Emily would immediately think I had gone off the deep end.

I couldn't explain to her that I had inadvertently used the power the Experimenter gave me on the doctor, the one that made me... or more specifically, one part of me... irresistible to most women that felt even a speck of attraction to me. I never asked the Experimenter how long the pheromone effect lasted, or if it had side effects -- but that instance had apparently not even been its complete form anyway, so who knew what would happen. It would be a couple months, actually, until I really understood that little gift she gave me and how careful I had to be with it.

Sooner or later, I would have to get back in contact with people. Unless I planned to simply disappear and never come back to Sacramento at all, I was going to have to see Emily, Dr. Lazar, and anyone else who lived there. It would be better if I got a hold of them now, I thought, rather than waiting until three weeks later and simply reappearing. I hoped nobody had already filed a missing person report or something, that would make things difficult when I got back -- particularly if they decided to look at my bank account or noted my sudden ownership of a fancy new yacht.

I'd left my cell phone back at home, but I supposed it wouldn't have done me any good on the island or out on the open ocean anyway. While I'm hardly the engineer that Sasha or Wren are, even back then I had certainly spent more than my share of time goofing off on the internet and playing with computers. It didn't take me long to set up the thing to act as a phone. For those who didn't pay enough attention in history class, back then computers and telecommunications technology were... sort of, anyway... separate things. It was only about five years later that the two started to truly merge.

I was struck by a thought that brought me down pretty low a few minutes into my task -- I didn't actually remember my own sister's phone number. Everything had been stored on my phone, and every time I'd upgraded they'd just transferred all my contacts for me. I tried looking it up, but it was no good... I sighed and finished out the task.

I had left the business card Dr. Lazar had given me at home, which had her cell number on it -- but by my math, it was just about 5 in the afternoon back in Sacramento right then, so I figured I may possibly be able to catch her in her office. I gave it a ring, and got voicemail. Damn. I called the hospital main line, and asked after her; they transferred me to the administrative office, and suddenly I was on the phone with some bored-sounding guy.

"You said you were Benedict Stanton?"

"That's me...." I'd given my name right off the bat, then he'd asked me the purpose of my call and a bunch of other routine questions. I had, at the least, thought up half-convincing lies for all of that. Now, he suddenly took on a different, alert tone.

"There's a note here to have you forwarded to Dr. Lazar right away if you call."

I shook my head, like the guy could see it. "I already tried her office. She isn't in."

"Dr. Lazar is... on leave." The tone he gave the words made my heart sink. I knew a polite lie when I heard one. She was suspended, or had already been fired... and it was my fault. He droned on. "Right, here it is. I have a note here to put a Benedict Stanton through to her cell right away if you call. Transferring..."

I didn't even have time to ask for her cell number again before I heard the tone of it ringing again on the other end. The guy must have had her cell on speed-dial, but then he probably had that for every doctor that ever worked there. I swallowed. Would she hate me? She couldn't have known I used some kind of strange ability on her unintentionally, which compelled her to take my dick into her mouth and give me the amazing experience she did.

"This is Doctor Lazar." She sounded detached and clinical, like she'd answered her phone a million times this way. Come to think of it, I'd never given her my own number back. Not that it would have mattered, I wasn't calling from my phone.

"Um -- Dr. Lazar, this is Ben, uhh, I mean Ben Stanton. Do you remem-"

I heard something clatter on the other end, and a pause for a half-second. "Ben! Where have you been? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I -- well, I went on a little, um, road trip. Sorry if it caused some confusion." Actually, it ended up being a very long trip.

"Where are you? Nobody we could get a hold of seems to know. I need to follow up with you. We never figured out what was wrong with your body, but the lab found some really weird results when they looked at your blood with some high-end equipment-" I swallowed. Oh, hell. I'm not going to fail 15226 already, am I? "-but they couldn't make heads or tails of it. Probably the sample just got irradiated accidentally by some stoned lab tech or something, but I have to get you in again to see if you're okay."

"I'd be glad to, doctor, but I'm currently... uhhh... fuck it." I shrugged, again forgetting as I often did that she couldn't see me. "I really can't come up with a convincing lie here, so I'm just going to tell you -- I'm on this boat in the middle of the Pacific. A sailboat, I mean. I can't get back for something like two weeks."

"Two weeks?" There was silence on the other end, then sounded dubious. More than dubious. "Ben, you've been gone six days. How could getting back take you two weeks? It could only take you six days to get back at most."

"It's a sailboat, you know, so, it, uhh, depends on the wind." I must have sounded like such an idiot. "Going home means sailing into the wind, and that takes longer." I held my breath, hoping she'd buy it.

"Not three times longer! I learned to sail on my uncle's boat when I was a teenager, Ben. You're going to have to do better than that."

I scrambled mentally, somehow finding a way to keep my voice from cracking. I hadn't had a backup plan if the sailing-into-the-wind thing crashed and burned. "It's funny you say that, you know, because that's actually the most believable part of the story." Not even a lie... "It doesn't really matter; I'm fine, doctor. I'd still be glad to let you check me out, though."

There was a slight chuckle on the other end. "I'm sure you would. I told you to call me Bethany, anyway. I might not be a doctor for that much longer regardless."

My throat caught. I had still been hoping it had worked out for her somehow, but it sounded like it hadn't. I had no response. She hadn't deserved this. "Would it help if I went to them and said something?"

"Like what, Ben? That you were a patient in recovery and I was your doctor? That you were possibly carrying an as-yet undiagnosed disease? Forget it." She didn't sound that angry on the phone, but I knew there was no way she wasn't pissed off -- even if not with me, she was probably furious with herself over an inexplicable desertion of all wisdom within her as soon as she'd seen me naked.

I felt so bad about it that I struggled, then threw something out anyway. "Well... I could say I was testing this experimental new Axe body spray for my, uh, cousin, and he called me the next day and told me to stop using it right right now, it turns out it was like thirty times more effective than it was supposed to be."

She snorted. "Thirty times zero is still zero, Ben. Bullshitting them will only make it worse. Stay out of this. I have a good attorney and he's working on getting me out with no charges being filed, but I might not be able to practice for a while. They may only suspend my license for a few years provided I do some court-appointed therapy. I needed some time off anyway... so, just keep your body spray on and ride your magic sailboat home. I'll be here when you're ready to come out of hiding."

"I'm sorry, Doctor. Bethany, I mean. Sorry. You didn't deserve this. It wasn't your fault."

"Not very studly, Ben. After what happened, I thought you'd be spouting some macho garbage and telling me I'm supposed to be your personal slut now." I heard her snort. "Still... thanks for the thought, I guess. It's better than nothing." She sighed. "Really, though, there's no way this could be assembled as not being my fault, Ben. I still can't figure out what happened.

"I'm not -- I'm just not like that. I'm divorced, actually. He ran off with this cute little secretary who worked for him at his firm. I don't blame him, not really. I was never home, and I only wanted to sleep with him once a week at most. I knew he needed more, but I just couldn't be bothered to give it to him. Too busy. Neither of us really... met one another's needs. I guess I always just liked the idea of sex, but the reality never held much appeal.

"I study the medical side of human sexuality a lot, and I'm just fascinated with the whole thing intellectually. It was always one of my favorite courses, in both undergrad and med school. I just... never found the reality of vanilla sex enjoyable. It's why I still can't believe what I did. As soon as I saw your... fuck it, your cock... something just came over me. It was like all of a sudden, all of that insane horniness my ex-husband always was coming onto me with, all the crazy stuff people did just to be naked with each other, it made sense.

"I knew I wouldn't satisfied until I -- well, you remember what I did, I'm sure. I still can't get it out of my head. I've been over and over the whole situation in my mind a hundred times,, and I can't figure myself out." I heard her taking a sharp breath through her teeth. God damnit. Was I going to spend my whole life regretting one blowjob? Was she? She wasn't finished. "You know what's even worse? Even though I've obviously got a serious problem I need to deal with, every time I really try to think about what's wrong with me, instead I can't get that damn image of your big dick out of my mind."

I heard her sigh. "Why am I even telling you all this? Completely unprofessional of me... but it's not like I can pretend to be professional around you after what happened. I feel like I'm realizing I was never the person I thought I was, and I'm the last one to find out... Sorry. I'm just disgusted with Bethany Lazar lately."

I took in what she said for a few moments. I had known it would mess up her career, but I hadn't really thought through the personal side of what my power could do to someone trying to rationalize their behavior without knowing about it. I rummaged around my head, scrambling for something I could say to make it better.

There was no sense beating about the bush - I was coming up pathetically short - but I needed to give her something. "Bethany. I know you think I'm a stupid college kid, and you're probably right - but this really isn't your fault. There's some things I didn't know then that I know now. I will make all of this up to you. You don't have to believe me. I wouldn't, if I was sitting where you are - but I will make this right. I'll be back in town in about two weeks. I'll give you a call then, okay?"

She sighed again. "All right." We were both silent for an awkward moment, then she spoke up. "Oh, I met your sister. Emily. Nice girl."

I gave a chuckle. "Heh. Not that nice."

"I guess not, huh? She straight-up accused me of kidnapping you. I don't know how, but she managed to get a hold of the hospital security director's incident report. About us, I mean. She's absolutely livid with me. I seriously considered trying to get a restraining order, but she backed off a few days ago. She still thinks I'm a seductive harlot who took advantage of her dear, useless little brother."

Damn. So Emily already knows. This isn't going to get any easier, is it? I paused for a moment, then let out a breath. "Fantastic... I'll get her to lay off. She goes a little nuts sometimes. Both our parents aren't around, and she's older than me by three years, so she..."

"I know. Not the first time I've seen kids with deadbeat parents. After the police blew off her kidnapping accusation, she left, but she said she was staying in town until you turned up." Great. I thought for a moment. Wait, won't that mean she could miss the next semester of law school?

I swallowed. Emily would do it, too. After Mom went into the loony bin, Emily started to turn into a lioness when it came to her little brother. I, in turn, had to keep my own behavior to that of a perfect little boy angel - just to keep Emily from going overboard. I had to make sure she stayed in law school. She had worked too hard to get there. A mixed-race girl with her background had enough trouble in life without becoming a dropout over her idiot brother's alleged flight of fancy. "I don't suppose she left her number with you?"

"She did, and -- wait, you don't have your own sister's phone number?"

"I do, but it was on my phone."

"Which I guess you didn't bring with you on the magic carpet ride?"

"I left on pretty short notice. I didn't actually get to pack anything, uh, at all." She already thought the whole story was bullshit, so I might as well tell her the truth and only let her realize later all of it was true.

"Your sailing trip, you mean, which was going to be three weeks long, but you didn't pack for it or tell anyone you were going. Oh, and you did all this a month before exams, the day after you checked out of the hospital." She laughed; she probably thought I was a total lunatic now. "Fine, whatever. One second..." She was shuffling through some paperwork, I could hear, then she read it off to me.

"Thanks... and you can bank on seeing me in two weeks. I'm serious."

"Okay..." She already sounded distracted again. We finished, and I pressed the disconnect button. I took off the little headset I'd found buried in the supply closet. I was about to stand up and stretch, when I felt something stiff; I still hadn't gotten used to my new... proportions, down below. Remembering Bethany sucking me off, so lovingly and gently, was making my dick chafe inside my pants.

The Experimenter had left a small wardrobe inside the yacht, on top of what I'd confiscated from the endless supplies in the lower level of the Vault -- we didn't call it that yet, I just thought of it as 'the island' -- but even so, the bigger tool she'd granted me didn't quite fit well into anything. It wasn't very comfortable to go around with a burgeoning cock anymore, and it was practically screaming into my hormones to be sated.

Stuck on the boat out in the middle of the ocean, by myself, with internet access, my only option was to look up some porn. That, I can say, was one of the few skills that I had perfected in my old life. Not even ten minutes later, I was kneeling at the ship's bow, spurting an impossibly heavy load of come into the sea -- my thoughts awash with the sight of implant-inflated tits and hairless pussies, and the high-pitched noise of what I now know is how a woman sounds when she's faking an orgasm. Badly, I might add.

My dick filled my fist in a very satisfying fashion, and even my pre-come was far more copious; it had spread all down my shaft and was like using Vaseline. It wasn't as good as when I had come in Bethany's mouth, or inside the Experimenter, but it was still leaps and bounds more pleasurable than before. She'd increased my overall libido, sure, but it was the stronger orgasms I now felt that would definitely reinforce my desire and only make me want sex more and more.

Rather than calling Emily next, I called up John instead, my old roommate. He actually picked up for once, and seemed surprised to hear from me. Yes, he'd seen Emily too; he remembered her from when I moved in. He usually wasn't that good with names and faces, unless it was a girl he wanted to sleep with. I tried not to think too much about it. She could have done worse than John, I guess.

He told me she was staying in some hotel nearby that I wrote down - and that he'd been told to tell me that if I called. He'd also been told to tell her if I called, but he wouldn't if I asked. Bro code and all. A rare man who actually believed in it. Yes, I was asking. No, she hadn't accused him of any felonies. Oddly, he didn't even ask what happened to me or why I wouldn't be home for nearly three weeks; probably because he himself would disappear inexplicably for days or weeks sometimes, and I was too much of an introvert to really pry into his life that much.