tagSci-Fi & FantasyGo Screw Yourself

Go Screw Yourself


My name is Terry Blanc. Political-correctness pundits would call me a 'sufferer of hypercognitive disorder'. More colloquial types would say 'hypercog'. But really, I'm what you'd call a mad scientist.

I'm a young one, admittedly, but no less powerful a mind for it. I've been running Technophilia – my high-technology electronics store – for a couple of years now, and I'm still not quite due for my nineteenth birthday. Sometimes business partners and rivals – as if there's any difference between the two – use my age as an excuse to underestimate me, but I soon show them that I live up to my reputation.

That night, I was working in my personal lab. It's a messy affair, kludged together from various ill-fitting components. Oh, it was elegant when I first started out: blue carpeting with every other surface made of gleaming, stainless steel; desks all along one wall to hold a network of uniformly magnificent computers (hand-constructed by yours truly, of course); one long workbench along the opposite wall, the steel shielded by a top layer of insulating black rubber; a human-adult-sized bench in the room's centre, almost like an operating table, for android work; drawers set into the walls themselves, holding all manner of electronic components.

Things have changed. The basic arrangement is still there, of course, but the steel has dulled, losing its lustre as chromium oxide formed to protect its surface. Several more computers have been added, as new requirements arose and new breakthroughs developed. Wood has joined the metal, with shelves built into previously-empty spaces on the walls and dressers constructed to create more storage space. Surfaces are cluttered with half-finished devices, staring back at me with a hundred accusations of procrastination.

Anyway. I was in there, working. Recent events – in particular, a movie I'd watched – had me interested in the idea of parallel universes. So, where other people would be watching more movies or maybe reading a nonfiction book or two, I was doing science.

Inter-universal travel is an interesting idea, and a complex one. It's complex enough that the term 'parallel universes' only captures a small fragment of its essence. The geometry is much more in-depth than that; inter-universal travel is like the flip side to time travel, with time and possibility each being like an axis in a grand grid, a Cartesian coordinate system. Or, if you feel like being coy about the existential questions raised, call them Descartesian coordinates.

I was still in the middling stages of research. The first thing I'd done was build what I called a Doorway – a tall, metal archway with a blue-glowing interior edge. Theoretically, I could choose a destination, step through, and enter another universe... but it would be a one-way trip. For the time being, it just stood in the back of the lab, across from the more normal doorway. It would be ready when I was; in the meantime, I was working on something I could take with me to create a way back, as well as fifth-dimensional sensors so I could look before I leapt.

It was the latter that woke up and started screaming at me. They were responding to several kinds of input, echoing the information in a dizzying clamour which roughly translated as 'incoming!'

The signals were centred on the Doorway. I turned to watch and wait for the climax. I probably should have been more worried, but it's an established fact that hypercogs have difficulty feeling fear. We tend to replace it with curiosity.

The air around the Doorway started crackling with static electricity, bright blue sparks flashing and illuminating that end of the room. The Doorway itself was dormant; it had nothing to do with what was happening.

I didn't flinch until the last moment, when a big, blinding flash and a rush of air flooded outward form that central point.

While my eyes recovered, I heard a light, feminine voice. "Hm. Just as hypothesised. The two labs are identical, right down to the Doorway. That's good. I do have a way back."

I opened my eyes, my vision clearing. Even with that clarity, it took me some time to really take in the visitor.

She was a pinch shorter than I – about 5'10" or 11" to my 6'1". Lustrous, jet-black hair fell down to her shoulders, the strands soft and smooth. Her skin was similar in its silken texture, even as its colour was so different: her pale, ivory-white skin-tone was a direct contrast to her hair's darkness. Her bright, sapphire-blue eyes were the cornerstone of her pretty face, even as they were walled away behind her oval-lensed glasses. She had fine features, a balance between cuteness and prettiness: a small, upturned nose; defined cheekbones leading down to a narrow chin; small but soft lips, coloured by nothing more than their natural pink flush.

My eyes slid down to her body. She was very slender, her curves smooth and subtle: narrow shoulders gliding down to a thin waist, then back out slightly onto small hips. There was an exception, however; her rounded breasts were a fair bit larger than you'd expect from such a slim frame. Oh, they weren't gigantic, but they were certainly ample. She wore a white labcoat above a black blouse with the first few buttons undone, coupled with black slacks (well-fitted to her curving legs) and clashing white sneakers.

I recognised her, of course. She was my direct mirror image; we were even dressed almost identically, though my shirt had all its buttons closed and I had no need for the bra that was probably holding up those lush breasts. It wasn't left and right that the 'mirror' inverted. It was gender.

We both smiled as we met eyes, and I somehow sensed that she'd been checking me out just as I had her. There was a whisper of shared thought between us, barely more conscious than pure instinct, and we unanimously decided to step closer. We were in arm's reach, but not actually moving to touch each other. Yet.

She giggled, her eyes dancing with mirth. "Well, that's an interesting sensation."

I folded my arms. "You stepped through the Doorway, without completing a device for the return trip. That was a reckless move."

She shrugged one shoulder. Dammit, that's my mannerism. "It was a calculated risk. Honestly, though, this was irresistible. In my scanning, I found this – a world with a probabilistic wave-form all but identical to home. The biggest difference was a phase shift originating about twenty years in the past. A single difference between our lives, which failed to significantly alter events. We're both still Terry Blanc, still operating Technophilia, even both still working on inter-universal travel at the same time." She looked me up and down. "I was expecting a different eye colour, maybe. Not this." She sounded... appreciative.

I could feel her thoughts, her fantasies. Yes, they were explicit, but no more so than my own... which she could feel just as clearly. Our hearts started to beat faster, pumping the excitement throughout our bodies. Can you blame us for getting excited? How often do you meet someone so deeply compatible? Still, I kept myself cool. As I reached to lay my hand on her hip, I did so slowly, carefully, not with any sudden grabbing.

She smiled, cocking her hips slightly to lean into my touch. Her body was warm, and felt smooth even through the clothing. One step closer, and then her hands were upon my chest. I shivered with the sensation of such contact, and she echoed me.

I licked my quickly-drying lips. "I'd theorised about this," I said. "I thought that if two people were close enough – probabilistically speaking, I mean – they might feel this kind of bond. Amplified by hypercognition, of course."

She slowly nodded, drawing closer. Her lips were near enough that I could feel the warm breeze of her breath. "I had similar theories. This much blatant, sexual attraction, on the other hand..." Her voice was low, sensually breathy. "...was not expected. Should we...?"

Oh, why the hell not? We kissed. Her lips were a sweet, heavenly softness against mine, just as a woman's should be, and I could feel how much she enjoyed the firmness of my own as they pressed so deeply into hers.

The echoing pleasure was intoxicating, driving us onward, but I wanted to resist just a little longer. I wanted to explore this bond, to probe her body through its own sensations. I felt the tightness of her calves as she stretched up to meet me. I felt the heat rising in her loins, making her squeeze her thighs together. I felt the pressure of my own hand upon her hip, as well as the fabric of my own shirt as she curled her hands into my chest, and the thudding of my heart below her fingertips. I felt the almost-painful tightness of her hardened nipples, along with the flushed heat filling her bosom, tightening her cheeks. I felt my own lips part as her tongue slipped forward—

Oh god. That was too much for us to handle. As the electric pleasure jolted through me, through us, it swept our minds away and left something primal in their place. I was only vaguely aware of what happened next.

Our mouths crushed together, eagerly exploring. Her saliva was slightly sweeter than my own, just enough to be noticeable as my tongue swept under hers. My arms tightened around her body, pulling it to mine. The many layers of clothing separating us frustrated that animalistic part of me. It had to be corrected.

Eventually, we came back to consciousness. In the meantime, I'd tossed her labcoat to the floor, but she was ahead of me – she'd undone my shirt at some point, pushing it and my coat away at once, leaving me shirtless before her. The air was cool against my heated flash, making a fine counter-point to the warmth of my twin's touch; she explored me with her fingers as much as her eyes.

She drew one fingertip in a line between my pectorals. "Very nice. Firm, without being too big. Certainly more athletic than most would expect."

I trembled, her touch sending fire through my nerves. "You can't keep a sharp mind..." I paused, surprised by the roughness and weight of my voice.

"...in an undisciplined body," she finished with a smile. "My philosophy, too, of course." She stepped away, heading for the hall. "Come on. Take me to bed, and I'll show you just how fit I am." Looking over her shoulder, she threw me a teasing wink.

I held still for a moment, just letting my mind catch up with the offer. Even when I did follow, it was slowly; I walked like I was in a daze.

She knew where my bedroom was, of course; the same place hers would be, on the other side of the Doorway. She made her way straight to it and sat down on my bed, her legs dangling off the edge. Arms held above her head, she stretched herself out with a long groan, arching her body towards me. "So, lover," she said as she relaxed. "What are we going to do?"

I answered her with action. As soon as I was seated beside her, I put my hand to work. My fingertips first found the soft skin and delicate bone structure at her throat, soon caressing down and feeling the soft cotton of her blouse's collar. The first button came open easily, revealing a tantalising preview of the cleavage to come. Then another, and the third was the greatest struggle; with the others opened, the protruding weight of her bust was resting solely on it, pushing it more tightly closed. "First, I think you have some catching up to do."

She agreed whole-heartedly, but still let me do the work. As her button shirt came open, I was greeted with the sight of her bra; it was a black, silky number, matching her top beautifully. It hefted her breasts up to the low-cut neckline, offering a delectable mouthful of cleavage. I couldn't resist making it literal, and I found her skin soft and sweet against my probing tongue. She gasped, her filling lungs pushing her chest more fully against my mouth.

My work wasn't done, of course; there were still buttons left, and as I licked at the top of her breast, I opened the blouse the rest of the way. Her toned, white stomach was bared, and there wasn't a hair to be seen anywhere on her body – even after she shrugged away the cotton, letting it fall from her body.

The pressure of a hand on my bare chest eased me backward. "Calm down, there, tiger." Her voice had grown low and husky. "I have to take care of something." The bra had a front clasp. As soon as she had it open, it fell away from her. Those full breasts jiggled as they fell down into a natural but firm teardrop curve, the shapes tipped with hardened pink nipples, the colour subtle against the backdrop of her pale skin.

I breathed a low sigh, sitting up fully so I could get a good look at her in all her topless glory. She looked perfect... and she was mine, or soon going to be.

She was also soon going to be more than just topless. While she waited for me to recover from seeing her bared body, she bent low, reaching for the remainder of her clothing. The blouse's removal had been like slowly unwrapping a present; the shoes, slacks and black panties underneath were all gone in seconds, leaving her totally naked. There was still no sign of hair, I couldn't help noticing. She turned towards me, one knee curled under her on the bed while her other leg dangled over the side. One hand caressed my chest, smiling as she locked eyes with me. "I think you need to catch up this time." That hand slid up, catching my chin and turning it towards her for a good, warm, but horribly brief kiss. "Come get me when you're ready." With that said, she laid herself out over the bed, her head on a pillow. Her hands roamed over her curves, exploring her own feminine body, and she sighed with the gentle, priming pleasure of it. An echo of it reached me, a little tingle I was barely conscious of.

She didn't have to tell me twice. In seconds, I was just as naked as she was. It felt good to have those slacks out of the way; they'd been feeling uncomfortable tight for some reason. I immediately went on top of her, kneeling right above her prone form. Our hearts raced, we grinned at each other... and as we locked eyes, we knew it was time.

We both moved at once, her hips lifting to accept my thrusting manhood. As I sunk into her, I found her passage to be a perfect, tight fit – just another side to our genetic compatibility. The pleasure rushed up along my rod and flooded her belly with warmth, the sensation rebounding back and forth, compounding on itself. A positive feedback loop.

By the time I finished processing that, we'd already been at it for a few minutes. In the absence of conscious thought, the sex simply took us over, and we were not gentle. Everything we did had a soundtrack of her pleasured screaming, the sound filling the air. Pleasure glowed in her blue eyes, and her body writhed about just a little more than directly caused by that rough pounding. Her full breasts were sent jiggling in a way that looked quite uncomfortable, so I helped her out. My hands closed over them, fingers sinking into their luscious softness. They were bigger than I could completely hold, their mass still shifting against my hands, her hard nipples poking my palms. Her fingers curled about my wrists, pulling my hands in closer.

It was a miracle we even lasted five minutes. The doubled orgasm swept through us both at once, her walls tightening and milking me as I flooded her with thick, hot seed. She didn't want me to leave. Her legs curled tightly around my waist, pulling me as far into her as physics would allow.

When the rush ended, I blanked out for a while. As I awoke, I found that living dream lying in my arms, her own limbs all holding me close. The look in her eyes was utterly content and satisfied.

I kissed her, the affection softened now that we'd slaked our lusts. "You should come over more often."

She giggled, giving me a follow-up smooch. "Same to you, handsome. Let's make this a regular thing."

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