Man, Get Yourself a Woman

What did she prefer to do in her free time? That was a nonstarter. She was glued to me, which Suzy and the stern mutie had both warned me about. Whatever I decided to do, Elizabeth wanted to do, too... except what she really wanted was my physical affection, and of course more cum. I started small that first day. I ordered her to watch five minutes of a dumb holovid, then told her she'd been a good girl for staying focused and let her seduce me. We did the same for holo games. Books didn't work out so well. I compromised by downloading all sorts of pornography across every medium. That helped. If it was pornographic, and I stayed there and paid attention to it, too -- or to her, when I got her to read aloud -- then she could go for ten whole minutes. I even got the bright idea to download some smut in the foreign languages she'd been studying before she'd succumbed to the addiction. The first time she read something in German, she was just as surprised as I was. I felt very clever -- not clever enough to suddenly understand German, but cleverer than I usually did.

She took to exercising pretty well, but, as it would later turn out, I'd be too exhausted to keep up with the regimen. Watching her bend and stretch was very distracting. She knew what she was doing to me, so she lasted twenty minutes. I ate her and fucked her again right after the session was over.

What did she like to eat and drink? That challenge I surrendered to the AI. Elizabeth was going to have to make all the usual compromises with them about health anyway, so it seemed like a good task to slough off onto them. She still wouldn't stop looking to me for hints. She wanted us to have everything in common. When I tried to explain that I was beholden to those same compromises, she switched tacks and tried to figure out just how much I truly cared about being healthy -- if I was a health nut or a junk food fiend. I ended up talking about my own favorite foods -- the stuff I'd only tasted copies of, and couldn't eat more than a few times a month -- and she begged me to let her try them the next time I indulged.

Then there was the sex.

The fourth time we had sex, I ate her out again, then asked her if she'd go prone on the bed so that I could mount her from behind. She enthusiastically agreed. I was gentle and loving with her again, just in a different position. She went crazy and stupid with pleasure and orgasms again, and my cum hit her just as hard as it had the first three times. After the comedown and a quick cleanup, we cuddled up on the bed, naked, stroking and occasionally kissing each other. It felt really good.

"So, you like eating my pussy," she said.

That already put me on alert. It wasn't just an innocent remark. She wasn't canny enough to be subtle -- at least not yet. "I do," I said. "You smell and taste delicious. I like giving you pleasure. It makes me feel good."

"Aw," she said. "I love you for that. But you give me pleasure when you fuck me, too. You give me pleasure all the time. So how can that be why you like it?"

"Well," I said, "there's something special about focusing on you. That's different."

"Okay," she said. "But you know that I love you. You can do anything you want, whenever you want. That means you also don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

I gathered her up closer and grasped her chin. I urged her to meet my gaze. "Do you not like it when I eat your pussy?"

Her eyes flashed panic and worry. "Oh my god, Paul, no, I love it. I love it so much! You're amazing at it. You make me cum, even without your cock, and that's crazy to me. It's good crazy. I love you."

"Well, it sounds like we're both happy with it, then," I said.

She nodded. "We are. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't, baby girl," I replied. "It's always okay to talk to me and ask questions. Do you have any more?"

She scanned my eyes, and apparently decided I was telling the truth. She nodded again. "I was going to ask if you only like missionary, but then we did something different. I loved it. So now it feels a little silly to ask other things. I wanted to ask if you only liked my pussy, and not my mouth or my ass. I wanted to ask if you didn't like my breasts. I wanted to ask if you didn't like it rough, or to play pretend, or-"

I silenced her with a kiss. She melted into it. When we broke it off, I stroked her hair and face. A part of me always wanted to soothe and reassure her, and she responded so perfectly that it became a feedback loop.

"Okay, baby girl," I said, "those are all perfectly fine questions to ask. Let me see if I can think of a good way to answer them."

"You don't have to."

"I want to," I replied immediately. "I'm just not so good with talking sometimes."

"You can talk to me however long you want," she said. "I love your voice. I love when you pay attention to me. I love when you make time for me."

I almost laughed. We hadn't been home a day, and she'd never left my side.

"Let's see," I said. "Elizabeth, you know that you were kind of in a bad way at the shelter before, right?"

Her face threatened a frown. "I... know, but I don't. I... it's so hard to remember. My body knows, I think? That's so strange. I don't think I want to remember, Paul."

I stopped myself from crying. That was a small victory. I hugged her close, pretending that I was the one who needed to soothe her.

"Shhh," I said. "It's okay. You don't have to. Forget all about it if you want. Be here with me."

She calmed down much more quickly than I did. I pretended not to notice, and took the time for myself. When I was ready, I pulled away enough so we could look at each other again. She seemed okay. She was scanning me again. I was worried about what she saw, so I decided to start talking -- to give her something else to focus on.

"Now that you're mine, and you're getting my cum, I think you're going to start feeling better, Elizabeth. A little bit more every day. And that means that every day, you'll be a little bit more yourself. Do you understand that?"

She lay there for a while, thinking. "I... don't know if I do, Paul. I love you now. You make me feel good now. I want to make you feel good, too."

"Hey," I said. "It's okay. I own you. You're mine. That's not going to change unless you want it to. That means I'm going to take good care of you today, tomorrow, and every day after that. It's okay if you change. That means... uh, I guess that means the medicine is working. Wow, that sounds awful."

"It's not so bad," she said with a little shrug. "That could be fun, couldn't it? Your little girl needs her medicine. She needs it in all her holes. You're my doctor; you're making me better with your amazing cock, and your incredible... medicine." She bit her lip and flashed her brilliant green eyes at me, but she was always scanning. She was trying to gauge my reaction.

"It could be," I agreed, "but... Elizabeth, I don't want to play any games until I know you like them too. And that's why I'm not so sure I want to... have sex with you in other ways. I guess I feel like that would be taking advantage -- well, more than I already am. More than I need to while still giving you what you need."

"Huh," she said. I saw real work being done behind her eyes. "So, I'm your little girl because you need to be in charge of me, not because that turns you on. And you eat my pussy because you want to feel like you're doing something for me that isn't for you too."

I sighed. The Male Guilt was back, and it was doing a smug little victory dance between my throat and my gut. "Yeah, I guess so," I said.

"But I love sex," she said, worming her way closer to me. "You know that. I know I'd love worshiping your cock -- your whole body -- with my mouth and my hands. I know I'd love anal attention -- especially your cock, of course, but anything, really. I really know I'd love attention on my breasts. That one's not even a question. I touched myself there before, while you were eating my pussy, and it felt so good -- but I just know it would feel so much better it were you."

I knew she loved sex. Farah had, too -- even on her stabilizing regimen, which had only worked on her because she'd been a mutant. That wasn't the point.

I had a clever thought. I instantly mistrusted it. Elizabeth lay there, watching and waiting. I decided to take the risk that I wasn't a complete idiot.

"Why don't we play a game?" I asked her.

"Ooh, okay," she said. She thought it was going to be about sex, so there was no reluctance at all.

"How about... I'll play with your breasts today, in addition to eating your pussy and fucking you there, all the times we have sex... and I'll even play with your breasts while we're just hanging out, too."

"That sounds like a great game," she answered. "When do we start?"

"Well," I said, "in order to earn that prize, you have to do one teeny-tiny little thing for me."

"Ooh, you're the game master," she said, trying far too hard to be seductive. "What does the master want from his little player?"

"I want you to try to remember your old life," I said. "Before the shelter. You have to think of one thing that you liked -- or even hated -- that didn't have anything to do with sex, that I don't already know. If you can do that, then you get your prize."

"Oh, that's an easy game," she said. "I like that. I like to win sexy prizes from my game master. Let's see..."

It turned out that it wasn't such an easy game. Elizabeth's eyes drifted down and to her left; she went far away. Her face slackened a bit, then tensed just around the brow. I started to get nervous. I remembered those haunting words from her video at the shelter. I didn't want her to go far away, no matter the direction or the metaphor. I started to feel hot and shaky. There were tears forming in my eyes, but they weren't tears of sadness. I was worried and afraid. Both were more than a little selfish.

Without looking back up at me, Elizabeth came halfway back. I sensed it a split second before her mouth began to move, and I had no time to react -- not even to feel relief. That came a moment later, and was instantly washed away by a brand-new set of feelings that I didn't have any words for at all.

"'La rue," she sang -- softly, and without any lung support. It was how someone would sing nervously, but she wasn't nervous. She wasn't confident, either. She wasn't performing. She was remembering.

"La rue, la rue,

Y la rain en die avenue,

And it pours on a poor little girl,

Por l'amour de la nacht she will lose..."

The melody sounded old -- smooth and languid. I could hear those fancy instruments behind it, and maybe no percussion, or not the usual kind. The final note sounded off, except I knew it was intentional.

A hint of a smile graced her full lips. She'd remembered, and she was glad. I was overwhelmed. I loved her.

"The Contra Tempos," she said. "It was just one woman, but that was her band name. Newer, but with lots of older sounds. She blended all the languages together on purpose. It was her statement. Mozart. Late 20th century Europe and Japan. The AI translation wave. She loved the idea of natural languages losing themselves as part of music and being used to create something else. University. The year I got to be on campus. Elena.

"Oh," she said simply. She blinked rapidly, and there were tears. She looked back up at me. "I... think that's enough for now." She wasn't trying to seduce me. She was feeling a real feeling -- maybe even too many at once.

My protective instincts took over. I gathered her up and showered her face and head with kisses. She was surprised for a moment, but then let me surround her. She sighed happily into my neck. I felt her body relax.

"That was so good, baby girl," I whispered. "You were such a good girl for me. I love you so much."

Her breath caught. Mine did too. I hadn't meant to say it so soon. I'd wanted to save it until she was so much more herself. It's not that I'd wanted her to earn it. I wanted to have earned it.

"I love you, too, Paul," she said. "Please, make love to me."

I couldn't have said no even if I'd wanted to. "Roll over on your other side, baby girl," I said. She instantly understood.

I penetrated her from behind, and made her the little spoon. She lifted her neck to let my arm through, and then I found her perfect breasts with both of my hands. Somehow, she managed to find a new peak of pleasure, and then coo happiness atop it because I'd kept a promise.

"Tell me how you like it," I said.

"I like everything." It was an urgent whisper.

I couldn't tell her she was lying or wrong. "But if you were doing it to yourself," I suggested, "how would you do it?" I kept my cock buried inside of her, but didn't move. She'd already begun rocking her hips, but she tried her best to stay focused for another moment.

"... tease first. At the bottom. Bounce by accident. Nipples. Milking. Oh, god, if you sucked them, Paul..."

I kissed her neck, then up to her jaw and ear. "I'll do that for you later, baby. I promise. You just let me know if you want anything right now, with my hands. Or my mouth. Anything. You can tell me."

"I'm... I want to. But..." She sounded guilty that she'd be losing her mind to pleasure.

"Shhh," I said. "I know, and it's okay. If you feel good, then everything's okay."

"Thank you," she said, and then she started to slip away. It didn't make me worried or sad, though, because I was going to the same place. We were still going to be together.

I learned to "milk" her nipples with my thumbs and fingers. Somehow, in our mutual haze, we managed to communicate something real: what she liked best there, and how I could give her the most pleasure. From the outside, it would've seemed absurd; there could not have been more peaks, except for the one forever reserved for cum. We were somewhere else with each other, though. We were deep inside. It was one of those strange places Elizabeth had talked about in her video, but a good one. It didn't follow the rules.

I was ensnared. My expression of love had sealed my fate. We fucked for the rest of the day. There was no more cleverness; there were no more games. She seduced me over and over again. She begged, and I indulged her. She received my cum four more times, and she gave me three or four more nearly-dry orgasms after that. For her, numbers didn't even make sense to talk about. Cumming was one of her states of being. She slipped into it a lot, even after I had no cum left to give her.

Our Healthees made us eat and drink. House joined in to urge us towards the bathroom on occasion. Still, their warnings never went above yellow. They seemed happy, for the moment, with our bizarre honeymoon.

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

My Healthee jolted me awake with a warning I'd never heard or felt before. I was just about to panic and spring from the bed when another Healthee performed an emergency override, preventing me from making any abrupt movements. That set my head to spinning. I didn't understand how two Healthees could be fighting with each other. I didn't understand why House wasn't chiming in.

"Just tell me-" was all I got out before I truly woke up and remembered some very important things. "Cancel alerts. I'm awake. It's fine."

I followed that up with quite a few noises that weren't words. Elizabeth was sucking on my cock like a starving baby, and her finger was about to penetrate my asshole. I was fully hard, and even though I ached a bit, I knew that food and sleep had refilled me a reasonable amount.

I reached down slowly -- so as not to trigger another override from Elizabeth's Healthee -- and pet my poor little girl. I heard and felt the needy, delirious mewling; a hint of acceptance was all she could add to it. It made my cock twitch in her hot, wet, perfect mouth.

I reached around awkwardly and grasped her wrist. Eventually, I managed to bring her would-be intruder up to my mouth. I slipped it inside and began coating it with my saliva. That brought forth more mewls around my cock. I finished the jury-rig lube job and guided her hand back to where it had been. She understood about halfway down, and I released my grasp.

She wasn't exactly gentle, but I wasn't exactly fragile. I let her instincts do as they would. I held her head and began moving my hips. The next round of desperate noises around my throbbing cock held hope.

Even in her frenzied, ravenous state, she didn't do a terrible job. She didn't know I'd have preferred more fingers -- though gradually, and with proper lubrication -- but her instincts guided her lips, tongue, and throat, plus her other hand teasing my large ball sack. It guided them true enough; women had been rebuilt for sex. After a few minutes, and with only a little mouth-fucking, I came. It was no grand event for me, but I accepted the pleasure and the brief liberation from thought. I focused on the change in Elizabeth. I felt her have a sympathy orgasm right after I did, and then rise even higher when she received her medicine -- her drug.

Even her sexual instincts were suspended for a while after that. They reemerged before her conscious mind, and she nursed my deflating cock as she withdrew her intruding digit from my asshole. She hugged at my legs and my ass, just as she would've someone's back and chest if she'd been sucking on a breast instead.

I just breathed, and ran my fingers through her hair over and over. My post-orgasmic haze kept me relaxed. I knew she'd be back eventually. I didn't fret.

The first few times I nudged her -- suggested she come up for air and say hello -- she didn't respond at all. The fourth one did the trick. She reluctantly parted with her limp cock-nipple and shimmied her way up the bed.

"Dim lights," I whispered to House. "Very dim. Gradual."

It silently complied, and I was able to see my girl's face. It was a mess of emotions, and a bit disheveled from the blowjob, too.

"Everything's okay," I told her. "Come snuggle."

That helped her relax a little. I welcomed her into my embrace.

"I think I know what happened," she said. I felt her words and her hot breath on my neck and collarbone. "I'm sorry, Paul. I didn't control myself. I was a bad girl."

"Shhhh," I replied. "I know, baby girl. There are going to be slip-ups. I know. I was so impressed with you yesterday that I wasn't responsible. I didn't time your doses. Just keep trying your best."

"I don't need to be punished?" she asked. "You don't need to spank me?"

"I have a feeling that wouldn't be much of a punishment," I countered wryly.

She squirmed into me. "No," she confessed. "Sorry. What did you mean, 'impressed?'"

I chuckled. "You saw Suzy react at the shelter, right?"

She nodded into me. I kept stroking her; it was more soothing for me than for her. I liked feeling her skin next to mine. I liked her warmth. What I liked most of all is how much she liked my body in return. She wanted to be near me. Feeling wanted was a drug all its own.

I chose my words carefully, wary of upsetting her. "I have a feeling most girls don't start feeling better so quickly, Elizabeth. She was surprised, but it was a good surprise. It was the same with me yesterday. You were so smart. You learned so much."

"Is that why you fucked me so well, and so many times?" she asked. "Do you love smart girls? Paul, I could be so smart for you; I know it."

Male Guilt threatened to break through. I urged her up and slightly away. She didn't resist. She'd learned that I liked caressing her face and kissing her while we talked. I made sure to do both. I still wasn't sure if she genuinely liked it, but it certainly didn't seem to hurt.

"Don't," I said. "Don't force anything. Let it come with time. I want you to be happy, Elizabeth. You deserve to be happy. It would break my heart if you spent all day trying to be things for me. When we're not... you know, together, try being things for yourself. Discover yourself -- well, rediscover, maybe. See if you can find out what else makes you happy."