Man, Get Yourself a Woman

"I'm going to get out of your hair," Suzy said. She stood and slipped past the trio.

I stood up and walked towards Elizabeth. The two guards seemed unperturbed, which I supposed was a good sign.

"I'm Paul," I said. "It's very nice to meet you."

"I'm Liz," she said. "I love you. I want you. Do you want me, Paul? I think you do. You can have me however you want. I love you."

"I do want you," I told her honestly. Her eyes widened and her muscles tensed. "But I need you to be a good little girl for me. Can you do that?"

She nodded so quickly I thought her head would fall off. "I'll do anything you say, Paul. I'll be good."

"And you won't do anything too crazy on your own, either, will you?" I pressed. "Good girls can control themselves a little bit, Elizabeth. I know you're just learning, so that's okay, but you'll try your best, right?"

"I will, Paul," she said. "I'm a fast learner. You can ask them. I'll be so good for you."

I could feel my cock swelling in my pants. I looked to the two guards. One of them shrugged apologetically.

"Sorry, man," she said in a deep voice. "We gotta be in the room for the first hit. We're medical staff. Full confidentiality and all that. Best we can do."

I nodded. "I get it," I said. I turned my attention back towards Elizabeth. "Elizabeth, I'm going to take my clothes off. Would you do the same, please?"

"I want to," she said. It had an edge to it. The two guards looked at each other -- well over the top of Elizabeth's head, even though she was a bit on the taller side herself -- and shrugged their acquiescence. They released their hold on her arms, and she stripped down like her clothes were on fire.

We were both naked. My cock was almost fully hard. Elizabeth was doing her best to look at my face instead of my erection, but I could tell she was losing her mind. My discipline was fading too, though it was no comparison. I looked at her like she was meat; she noticed and immediately adapted, inviting me to consume her, even though to her I was a factory and a delivery drone for the only sustenance she cared about. She was beautiful, even as she eschewed all subtlety. Some rational part of me knew that she wasn't any more or less beautiful than Suzy, give or take my shitty male preferences, but she was a woman. It made all the irrational difference.

"Good girl," I said. She shivered -- half pleasure, half anticipation. "Let's go over to the bed now. I want you on your back for me, legs spread, and I'm going to get you ready for me."

"I'm ready now, Paul," she said, racing over to the bed at the opposite end of the waiting room. "I'm ready for anything."

"Good," I said, turning and walking over. "That means you're ready to do what I say."

"... It does," she reluctantly agreed. She splayed out on the bed and immediately began touching herself near her pussy. I knew she wanted to masturbate, but that wasn't what she was doing. She was presenting. She was luring me in.

I fought back the urge to mount her. I crawled onto the bed and got my head between her legs. Her pale skin was completely smooth. She was already glistening. She would've lied about being ready if she'd thought she could have gotten away with it, but she hadn't needed to. I was just asserting dominance, and trying to give her a good memory, if she managed to hold onto it.

She smelled delicious and tasted even better. Science had done a lot of brilliant things before ruining almost everything. It reminded me of that story about the kid who'd flown too close to the sun. Farah had told me that one more than a few times.

Elizabeth moaned and groaned like I was murdering her with pure pleasure. I knew it wasn't all an act, but I still wondered how much of it was driven by cum-lust. I took my time, then inserted a finger, then two. She was welcoming and tight -- both at once. I didn't have to search around. I hit a spot, because every spot was a spot. Elizabeth squirmed and undulated -- practically thrashed. I could feel my horniness combine with that secret ingredient -- pride -- to temporarily quash all my guilt and bad feelings. I was giving her pleasure. I was doing that.

Women were practically an offshoot, if you thought about it in terms of the old world. Males -- especially males like me -- were far less so. Women, though, science had gone after relentlessly. It had turned them into beautiful fucktoys -- willing slaves -- and the default had been pure horniness and receptiveness. There was some country where they'd made them pretend to hate sex. That was fucked. I'd gotten very mad when Farah had told me that.

I knew what Elizabeth really wanted, and both my horniness and my pride told me it was time to give it to her. I withdrew my fingers and eased my tongue and mouth away from her intoxicating pussy. She began to whine. The guilt rushed back in, but only to further justify my own desires. I rushed to line up my cock with her pussy. She sensed it, and the whining immediately turned into coos of encouragement.

"Yeah, baby," she said. "I love you so much. I'm so horny for your massive cock. Stretch me. Fill me. Claim me. Make me yours. I want that for you -- for us."

"You have to promise," I said, my breathing already ragged. I grazed her massive, throbbing clit with my cockhead. She wailed in pleasure and need. "You said so. I'll own you. You'll be mine. That means you'll do everything I want, everything I say, and be a good little girl for me all the time."

"I will! You do! You own me! Make it official! I want it!"

She was a rank amateur, but perverse honesty and desperate need infused her artless cries. They shot the moon. I was beyond caring regardless. Even an old-world male probably wouldn't have cared at that point, and I was hornier than they'd ever been. I took my position and penetrated her, sinking down into missionary and finding her mouth with my own. She only stopped gasping, wailing, moaning, and thrashing to accept my kiss. With my cock inside of her infinitely-receptive cunt, she was convinced that complete cooperation -- total submission -- was the shortest distance between her and cum.

I told her in a dozen different ways that I wanted to make slow, gentle love to her, and her addict's cunning took the message to heart immediately. She wrapped her silky-smooth legs and arms around me and stroked me gently. Her lust-filled eyes found mine in between kisses and told me I was doing everything right. She didn't wait for me to kiss her every time; sometimes she lifted up to find my lips again. Her cunt worshiped my cock. I felt her clit rubbing against my pelvis. It wasn't long before she was cumming, and it was continuous. It was a tide whose ebbs were simply milder climaxes. I believed her body; she didn't look like she could be lying. The persistent need underneath was real. I knew that, even in my haze. No matter how much she loved cumming, her orgasm was a distant second to mine. She needed mine.

By the time I was ready to cum inside of her, I was convinced she was telling the truth: that she loved me. Part of me already loved her. I didn't know if that feeling would fade or remain.

I didn't warn her. I wanted it to be a surprise. It was, and it was the best surprise of her life.

I knew that women had special faces, just like men and muties. I'd seen one of Elizabeth's when I'd penetrated her. I'd seen another when she'd started cumming. I'd seen Farah's versions of those, too, but with Elizabeth, there was going to be a third. I forced myself to hang on -- again, so much easier for me than it was for her. I got up on my hands to watch her face when I gave her my cum. I halfway spoiled my orgasm just to see it, and it was worth it. Her expression was indescribable. I was her everything. I had ascended to sainthood in her mind... but then I was nothing, because my cum was out of me and into her. It lifted her higher than any other part of me ever could, and even higher than my own climax could've taken me. Her limbs made halfhearted attempts to keeping coaxing me, or to thank me, but they lacked the input from her brain to do it properly.

For my part, I sank into the selfishness as I sank down on top of her helpless body. I let myself feel the pride of both the lover and the pusher, taking credit for both the sex and the drug. Worse still, I let myself feel the abominable love an owner has for a perfectly compliant slave.

My weight pinned her to the bed, as though she could have gone anywhere anyway. "Good girl," I whispered in her ear. "You were such a good girl for me. Enjoy my cum, baby. You deserve every drop."

She responded with a slack-jawed, drooling sigh. She was an animal dying of pure pleasure. It was a long time before she could speak, but eventually, she did.

"Thank you, Paul," she sighed. "I love you so much. Stay with me. Stay in me. Like this. Forever." She wrapped her limbs around me again and nuzzled near my ear. I felt her body enjoying the aftershocks of her uncountable orgasms-as-orgasm. They themselves felt like they'd never end if I were to grant her request. Her vagina subtly milked me, hoping for one last drop. Her hands wandered -- much more deftly than mere minutes prior, I thought -- seeking out any spots that elicited a reaction. She was learning. She was trying to figure out exactly what she could do to make me want her even more.

I indulged her happily for a long time. I expected the Male Guilt to come back, but it didn't. When my cock finally slipped out, she whimpered. When I lifted myself up, she clung. That's what did it. The guilt ached and stung.

"Be a good girl and let me go," I said, trying to be stern.

She obeyed. I rewarded her with a kiss on her forehead. She accepted it for the consolation it was.

"Okay," I said, "let's get you cleaned up and dressed."

She couldn't hide her reluctance, but she was out of the pure high of her second dose of cum. I could already sense a small change; not literally everything she did was designed to entice me. Sometimes she evinced pouty obedience -- a promise kept, in the hopes of greater future rewards. She submitted to the cleaning station. It came as no surprise that not a single drop of my seed left her body. Her direct ancestor -- her great-grandmother, I'd later learn -- had been engineered to absorb cum, and that had passed down. After we were both cleaned and dressed, I inquired about food and drink. It was delivered, and Elizabeth cooperated. I fed her, more or less, enforcing my position as her owner again. There was the merest flash of recognition on her face that the snacks were good. They weren't cum, though, and so they couldn't compete. Her Healthee, upgraded to handle a host of new responsibilities, pinged that she was within parameters. I decided that was good enough until we got home. I dabbed at her face with a damp cloth, then claimed one more kiss before drying it off. I was still feeling attached to her, and it felt good.

Suzy came back in with a small box. As soon as I saw it, Male Guilt redoubled. She knew, and gave me a sympathetic look. I walked over, opened the box, and retrieved the ankle bracelet. It was slim and elegant, but brimming with technology. I returned to Elizabeth, sitting impatiently on a chair, and told her to extend her left leg.

She obeyed, and I rolled down her sock.

"What is that?" she asked.

"It's your bracelet, Elizabeth," I said. "It shows that you belong to me. You won't wear it all the time, but whenever I want you to, okay?"

"Oh!" she said. "Of course. I love it. Thank you so much."

"You'll be getting deliveries to your apartment," Suzy said. "Most of them you won't actually need for a while, but you might want to do some training beforehand. There's also complimentary... items for the first few months -- no deduction from your scores. From other clients' reports, you might need to supplement them."

"Sex items?" Elizabeth asked. "For sex?"

I looked at Suzy. I caught the hint of shock as she suppressed it; Elizabeth wasn't supposed to be so aware so soon. "Uh... yes, Elizabeth. That's correct. We want to make sure you and Paul both feel good."

"Thank you," she said. "That's very nice of you."

"You're most welcome," she replied. "Now, it's been lovely meeting you both, and I'm so happy we were able to match you, but unless you have any more questions or concerns, I think it's about time to get you two home."

I looked back at Elizabeth. "Do you have any questions, Elizabeth?"

She cast her eyes around the room, then looked back to me. "Does Suzy want to have sex with us? Do those other two? We can all have sex, Paul. Would you like that?"

I chuckled, and it felt unfamiliar in my throat and chest. "Let's just go home, Elizabeth. Just the two of us. You're my special little girl."

That placated her immediately. Suzy was unflappable. One of the two guards smirked.

"The transport pod is waiting," Suzy said, "and since it's indoors all the way, we can forego the collar, leash, harness and plugs. It's up to you, though, Paul. We have temporary ones for you, and they'll degrade just fine in your home recycler."

I reached out and caressed Elizabeth's face. She reacted with that same blend of pleasure and anticipation from before. "The law only says you have to be collared and all that when we're outside," I told her. "The shelter was nice enough to give us a direct line home. You remember your promise, right?"

Elizabeth nodded. "I'm your good little girl, Paul. I'll be so good. But..."

I kissed her forehead. "I know, Elizabeth. You'll wear anything I want you to wear, too. I know. I think we'll be just fine for the ride home."

"Okay, Paul," she sighed. "You know best."

I forgave her for what wasn't exactly a lie, though it had been delivered to the same end. She had no way of knowing what a mess and a dunce I was. What she knew was the value of flattery and submission in general.

"Thank you again, Suzy," I said. "You're the best."

She smiled broadly. "Thanks. And call me. Eventually."

"Eventually, I will," I said. "I promise."

I took Elizabeth by the hand. She stood, and we walked towards the exit together. The two muscular muties parted like a set of sliding doors. The one on the right -- the one who'd smirked -- caught my eye on the way out. I knew the look. She was telling me I'd put on a good show for them. I decided not to call her out. It was awkward, but I felt a small swell of pride, too.

*************

The pod ride was less than ten minutes, but Elizabeth was all over me. She was trying to figure out exactly how to behave to get more cum. She was still incredibly naive, and, since I'd already cum twice, I was less vulnerable to her antics.

"I love you so much, Paul," she said. "I'm so lucky you picked me. You're so handsome, so loving, and your cock is incredible. I don't think I could've gotten any luckier."

Male Guilt flared up again, and I tried hard not to show it. "Come here," I told her. I patted my lap. She hopped on eagerly. She started grinding right away. I put a hand on the small of her back and subtly instructed her to stop. "Look at me, Elizabeth. Pay attention."

Her brilliant green eyes locked onto mine. They searched for any hint of how she could turn me on. I saw the concern grow when she couldn't find one. I rubbed her back and her arms, and kissed her forehead again. I tried to let her know she hadn't done anything wrong -- not on purpose, anyway.

"There are a lot of other women still at that shelter," I said. "Every single one of them deserved to go home with someone. I had to pick just one, and I picked you."

She nodded. "That's right. That's why I'm so lucky. Even if you weren't so handsome and so loving, I'd still be lucky. I'm extra-lucky. I'm the luckiest. I love you so much."

I sighed. "Elizabeth," I said, "you deserved to go home with someone, just as much as any of them. I know what you mean. I know what you're trying to say. Just... we should think about them, too. And you shouldn't have to feel like you need to feel lucky. Ugh, that sounds dumb."

She was still scanning me. "That's very sad," she said. "I know you're right about those other women, Paul, but it's so sad, and you're doing what you can. Do you... want to feel sad? Do you like to feel sad?"

That hurt. It hurt because it hit too close to home, but also because it was exactly how an addict would think. She wanted to know if letting me -- or even making me -- feel sad would be a shorter path to more cum.

I shook my head. "I don't want that. I just think it's important to feel a little bit sad sometimes, because there's a lot wrong with the world. If we're never sad about it, we might start to think it's okay. But that's not even it. I'm sorry, Elizabeth; I'm not so good at talking sometimes."

"Do you want... me to be sad?" she asked. "I don't really know what to do. Paul, I'd do anything for you. I love you. If you don't want me to be happy all the time, I won't be. If you don't want me to try to make you happy, I won't. I don't understand, but I'll do my best."

"Oh boy," I said. "I really stepped in it."

"It's okay," Elizabeth said. She nuzzled into me with her whole body. "Just tell me what you need."

I sighed. Having her weight on me made it a little harder, but the extra effort felt good. I stroked her back and kissed the top of her head. "You know what? For right now, let's just try to be happy together. There's plenty of time later to talk about hard things that I'm no good at talking about."

"Okay," she said happily. "That sounds nice. Thank you, Paul. I love you. Let me know what I can do to make you happy."

"Just stay there until we're home," I said. "It feels nice. You're warm. I like feeling your weight on me."

"How much longer, do you think?" she asked.

"Not long at all," I replied.

"Okay," she said.

I leaned back, and her body followed mine. I idly ran my fingers through her silky-smooth, blackest-black hair, then down her back, all the way to her butt. She was beautiful. It was hard to forget that, even for a few minutes. The primal instinct -- what made her more beautiful to me than the most perfectly engineered mutie in the whole, fucked world -- was sated and sleepy, but never gone.

"Paul?" she asked.

"Yes, Elizabeth?"

"Can I... move around? Just a little?"

"Okay," I said. "Just a little."

"Thank you," she sighed. She shifted her legs so that she was straddling one of mine, then began slowly humping herself on it.

It was a strange five minutes, but not unpleasant at all.

*************

Amidst nothing but strangeness, the strangest thing was how quickly Elizabeth's intelligence came back.

As soon as we got home, I increased my meal-integrated stimulators to the maximum allowed by Healthee. My daily ejaculation estimate increased from five to eight, and it turned out I was cost-covered for six months. After eating Elizabeth's pussy and then fucking her in missionary yet again, I began teaching her about the apartment. Her Healthee got acquainted with mine, and with House, and they were happy to help with her education. For once, I wasn't annoyed, and I even took them off Minimal. I figured Elizabeth would benefit from the extra information. Soon enough, I was reminded that she'd only been in the shelter for four years. She reacclimated quickly.

Trying to figure out what she actually liked, as opposed to what she thought would get her the most cum, was a surreal challenge. It was a contest of deference and servility. It was two sports teams stuck in a rules hiccup where scoring the most own-goals would position them better for the championship.

What did she prefer to wear? After a comedy of errors -- her fishing around for any fetish or kink she could think of that might turn me on -- I finally gave up and let her claim that she preferred to be naked. The apartment was a modern marvel, and luxurious to boot. With a tiny adjustment to the environmental controls, I could rest assured that she wouldn't be too cold.