Nina and Renee Return Ch. 03

One day while in a pretend kitchen watching the symbionts fuck both ends of a pretty blonde maidservant, She-Bronz came to the realization that all she was doing was fantasizing about the symbionts fucking her in the precise way they were doing the clone. She realized that she had fantasies about getting fucked in all three holes. She didn't care anymore what that meant. She walked over to the symbionts and dropped to her knees right between them. She asked the symbionts to suspend the rule about fucking the boss for just this one time.

"Fuck me hard," she said, licking her lips and cupping her breasts.

Finally able to release their pent up desires, the symbionts used her like a ragdoll. They fucked her throat like a sock and stretched both her ass and pussy with their thick tools and filled her every hole with cum.

She-Bronz enjoyed the feel of being borne down upon and penetrated. It did not matter if it was her pussy or her ass, she liked having a cock in it. She loved the feel of cock in her throat, not breathing did not affect her mechanical brain. Her brain had also shut down most of her pain receptors.

The symbionts made her feel like nothing before. She loved the sugar sweet taste of their cum, and welcomed the vigorousness of their thrusts. She began to spend time with the symbionts, and establish closer relationships with them.

For a while, She-Bronz was content.

Such equilibrium never lasts, and She-Bronz slowly began to tire of her she-male lovers as well. In a bid to further find the excitement that had been lost, She-Bronz would demand rougher and rougher sex at the hands of the symbionts and other creations. She explored her need to be punished, for she felt guilty about her power and stubborn longevity. She wanted to experience rape, but it was never rough enough without her pain receptors active. No matter how hard she tried to truly be raped, she always craved the brutal fuckings she received.

Finally, after the sex that She-Bronz demanded had become so rough and risky that her female avatars were either getting bludgeoned to pieces or suffocated, Lady Wen firmly insisted that Bronz give up these destructive fetishes and go back to being a male full time, and he agreed.

It was too late, however. The damage to his psyche had already been done. Each time he pondered how to approach a girl, countless memories of the way he had enjoyed unspeakable brutality came vividly to mind.

Hurting seemed the only way for him to reach out to women. Bronz had lost his mind.

He obtained several large clones, males with large phalluses and exceptional strength. One was a six armed ogre that stood three heads taller than a man. Another was a large zebrakin, with a man's body, but a Zebra's head and stripes, and a very large cock. He collected dozens more of these hulking brutes. He began to hurt clones frequently while having sex, and Lady Wen was convinced that he was fast running out of humanity. At an age of 3,400 Earth years, he was older than any known methuselah had ever made it, and by at least 1,200 years.

Wen did not give up, however. Her next strategy was to enhance her efforts to give certain clones meaning and worth. They were all programmed to believe that they had families, mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers. They all had names, birthdays, hobbies, and so on. Now Wen tried to interrelate them to one another, to create dramas and acts of kindness and mercy, things that Bronz could witness and perhaps learn to emulate. Each simulacrum was an actor, and some played their part for years. Others were used up and discarded within days or even hours of their delivery. Wen plotted to keep her most therapeutic clones safe from Bronz's more dangerous moods, because each time Bronz destroyed one he traveled faster down the path to depression and their mutual end.

Wen tried tirelessly to give Bronz something to connect with, a delicate flower to be appreciated rather than stomped and violated. She knew each clone would eventually inspire Bronz to lash out, but some moments of tenderness would be spent, and some would be spared until a later day.

By the time we join Bronz in this tale, he is deeply schizophrenic. Moody and withdrawn, he was prone to obsessions, and even when he was in a good mood he was still nearly devoid of empathy. One day he could be a rough and lusty lover, the other a cold and malicious sadist. Every few years he would become a she for a time, going against Wen's wishes to play the role of a masochistic nymph. She-Bronz would re-emerge and order the symbionts to fuck her harder, and deeper, and rougher. She felt no pain.

The symbionts found their existence troubling. They too grew bored of clones, but She-Bronz was clearly disturbed and there was little they could do but put on shows for him. Due to the powers of the symbionts, they did not age at all. However, their minds grew older and increasingly weary. Every couple of centuries, they both became depressed and suicidal. The symbionts themselves would detatch from the girls. Lady Wen would dispose of them mercifully, hold a small ceremony for the human dead, and send the dormant phalluses back to Pleasure Castle for a new pair of volunteers.

Although it took all of the resources Lady Wen's advanced processors could muster at times, she kept Bronz the Brute alive and cogent for another 4,000 years or so, which brings us to the present moment. Bronz was balls deep in a simulacrum of a current fad celebrity, pounding her tight pussy with a vengeance. Although the clone had been programmed to regard him as unfamiliar and fearsome, she was also designed to enjoy a hot, pistoning rod. He was making her cream and moan like a whore.

There had been no warning when he came upon her. She had been sitting with a few other clones when Bronz, in the body of his six armed ogre, came around the corner in a full sprint. He grabbed her and ran. He carried her, kicking, into a dark room. She screamed in fear when six pairs of strong hands lifted her off her feet, then steadied her hips and legs. Then his large, blunt-toothed mouth engulfed her round tits and started drumming them with his powerful tongue. Against her will, her pussy started to drip with juices. Once he felt she was ready, his lower hands forced her legs wide and he entered her.

Bronz hoped for a thrill, and there was a little bit of satisfaction when she started cumming on his cock despite her protests. Still, he quickly bored of it, but he had planned for this. He had recently made a deal on another large sum of raw materials. He had used these to purchase a rather unusual pet from the Alhani.

After the simulacrum's first climax, the tentacle horror began to reach out to her with its many long appendages. Some tentacles resembled a string of beads, others were stiff and ringed with bumps and ribbing. The creature began encircling the clone's limbs with them, and driving one tentacle into her mouth and another up her tight, heart-shaped ass.

These two tentacles began thrusting, deeper and faster. In and out they pumped, until finally they released an explosion of white goo that flooded out of the girl's tightly crammed mouth and ass.

Bronz came at the same time, filling the clone's pussy with a roar. He let her go and the creature held her aloft, replacing the spent tentacles with fresh ones, filling her holes with thrusting shafts. The one in her mouth began pumping white goo into her mouth. She choked and recoiled, successfully spitting out the tentacle that was filling her mouth with white goo. It spurted several jets of the stuff across her face and breasts. A new tentacle took its place in her mouth, even as the ones in her ass and pussy began inundating her with more gooey white slime. Bronz heard her muffled moans and saw her legs flex, her toes curled.

"Did you – are you still cumming?" he asked, breaking out into harsh laughter.

***

The governing council of Orth-2 lived humbly, under a constant barrage of negative exposure from Bronz's media apparatus. These council members longed to get in the media's good graces, but there was something else they longed for. To them, Bronz was just an old pervert, a galactic scale Hugh Hefner, and they wanted an invitation to his mansion.

Lady Wen was adept at selecting and programming constructs as paramours for the council members. She skillfully guided these clones in the techniques that would cultivate love and longing. The clones were always kept cloistered within the walls of the fortress.

Lod'amere was built not far from the capital city of Neab, in convenient teleporting distance. Above ground, it appeared to be a kind of large, circular building with a gilded central pyramid. The exterior was made of a mixture of strong alloys that barred teleportation and even the most sophisticated scanning.

Most of Lod'amere was below ground, a bunker to weather the most brutal bombardments. The above ground was where the guests would visit, and only a few passages connected the two sides. Most servants were assigned to either one side or the other. If anyone had seen every corner of both sides, it was possible that Lady Wen had. Even Bronz was not permitted to leave the lower sanctum without consulting Wen first.

Lady Wen walked the maze-like halls with confidence. She knew all the secret passages, and controlled all of the sliding walls. Down below, she often visited the stasis ward to retrieve and revive a particular clone. Hundreds of duplicates existed to replace those that were lost due to accidents or negligence. Hundreds of new types and variants were also stored there until Wen saw fit to wake them. Still more were regularly shipped in from their supplier, Living Mate.

They were a special customer of Living Mate, often making bulk orders and even subscribing to a replacement service.

Living Mate's simulacrums were originally built as alternatives to the pricy Avashai, and their programming modules were vastly inferior. Back then they were wet, tight, and dumb as rocks. This was back in the time when human spacefarers were only allowed to work as laborers, before the revolution. Even then, these clones served well as interactive sex dolls. Soon after being introduced, wireless control mechanisms were included. These allowed a remote computer to give the simulacrum a more lifelike demeanor. Small changes and additions came as the complex technology was painstakingly devised.

Living Mate had come a long way since those days. An autonomous personality, a few skills, and fluency in two languages were all installable on-board the clone, and a programmable interface allowed for individualized assignment of names of friends and family, anecdotes, and other histories. These were all translated by Living Mate into nanoDNA, a seed about the size of a golf ball. This seed, activated in the nanosubstrate, was the code and instructions for the clone's physical and mental being.

Living Mate could transform several dozen kilos of green chemical substrate into a walking, talking replica of a human being in about an hour. They took great pains to keep this technology secret. Sometimes Living Mates seemed so real that they were found living normal lives among the general population. Some felt that Living Mates had become "too real."

Thousands of these clones existed under Lod'amere's roof, ample reason for council members to want to pay a visit. They were regularly invited to Lod'amere for what were officially termed "Resort Vacations." Then they were treated to Lod'amere's three D's – dining, dancing and debauchery.

First came the feast, where the council member would be treated to fine food and drink. Meanwhile, dancers would come out on stage to perform. Other times, a bunch of them in skimpy evening attire would just get on the dance floor and shake their fine assets. Or, there might be a light show or sex show, or some other entertainment.

Debauchery was easy, as men were natural marks for seduction. Still, there was a difference between tempting the body and what Lady Wen called "hooking a heart." Lady Wen proved her skill in this time and time again. Using specialized programs that mimicked human intuition, she would devise a psychological ploy to use against a council member. Then her pre-programmed simulacrums would carry out those plans, contact would be made, and a love-lust scenario would unfold.

To a council member, he might be approaching a shy girl sitting alone at the bar. Or, he might overhear a waitress's sigh, and he might get the urge to ask her if she had a long day. But to Lady Wen, it was like placing a mouse in a cage with a hunk of cheese. She was infallible. If Bronz ever commented on it, she was obliged to credit human evolution for making men such easy marks. With their full, pouty lips, innocent eyes, and full chests, there was no resisting Living Mate's idealized women, especially when under Lady Wen's mastery.

The council member always sensed that he could be a fool. Sometimes they knew it for sure. Yet they willingly allowed themselves to live the fantasy. The romance was exciting and the sex amazing. So what if it meant a few stray votes here and there? Everyone else was doing it, and the media always turned a blind eye.

Thanks to the wireless feature built into each, all were all essentially under the remote mind control of Lady Wen. Her capacity to micromanage their reactions made their allure that much more intoxicating. Even so, even Lady Wen could not maintain all romances. The hotter they burn, the sooner they burn out.

Sometimes fickle hearts would change and a girl would be spurned. In these cases, Wen would prepare another simulacrum to take the others' place, usually well in advance. When the council member finally begun to realize that he was ready to end his relationship with one girl, Lady Wen was already orchestrating the breakup and lining up the next sex trap. It was part of her routine. All that mattered was that sufficient council members voted in such a way that the key measures would pass. Then, all members in the "club" were rewarded.

Everything, from the votes to the hand jobs under the table, were orchestrated time and time again, year after year. Over the millennia, Wen had created a self-sustaining level of political corruption on Orth-2 that kept the Bronz fortune safe and sound. This was good for Lady Wen, because she needed all of her faculties to keep track of the clones that interacted with the madman below.

***

Lady Wen strode purposefully down the red carpeted halls, turning corners, until she reached the door. Several simulacrums were gathered in front of it, trying to figure out a way to open it. When Lady Wen approached, they dropped to their hands and knees. Their eyes glazed over, and they crawled away like automatons. She had no time for their questions.

Only Lady Wen could open the door to a chamber occupied by Bronz. She did so now with a wave of her hand. The large door swung open on its own, and Wen surveyed the scene.

The room had dull metallic walls, styled like a cube and exceedingly plain. She saw the six armed giant. At his feet were the broken remains of a clone, with short black hair and tan skin. Also in the room was an Alhani tentacle beast, green and quivering, like the cross between an octopus and a bushy hedge. It waited in the corner and made gurgling noises.

Gurgling indicated it was afraid of something.

"Boju," she said, disappointment in her tone (that was the name of the ogre avatar), "You big, sexy beast. Did you have an accident again?"

"The tentacle beast, it went berserk," Bronz-Boju lied.

"If you say so." Wen glided into the room to get a better look at the corpse. Its jaw had been torn from its socket somehow, and its neck was twisted. Judging from the way the body contorted and swollen, the spine and ribs were shattered as well.

"My lord, we have many kinds--"

"I just want Nina! Perhaps Renee as well, and the others. I think I want to do Nina in front of Renee. Make her cum. Haha."

"Nina and the others, again? How will you feel after you are done?"

"Better."

"Well, I sent the rest of them away."

"Just now?" Bronz bounded for the door.

"Stop, Boju!"

The ogre turned to face the headmistress, and defiantly began to speak.

"Those girls did not know who they were messing with," he said, slowly. He began absently slamming his fists into one of his palms, alternating different pairs of arms. He paced as he remembered the way Renee and Nina had cast the Heritagers in a bad light.

"All the more reason to forgive them," said Wen. "It was a mistake. You understand mistakes, don't you?"

"Do you disrespect me?!?" Bronz bellowed, leaning close to Wen's unflinching visage.

"What happened to Nina this time? And the last time? And the time before that?"

"It's therapeutic," Bronz muttered.

"Perhaps a more subtle approach is in order?" Wen suggested.

"Is this going to be another one of those times, you know?"

"I don't know what you mean." Wen often found it difficult to speak to Bronz, but he was her master, and she had patience.

"You know, one of those scenarios where like one chick is tied up and I just like rape her friend in front of her?"

Wen sighed inwardly. Bronz considered such a rape to have a subtle aspect because the lover would be watching. Lady Wen had tried that, in fact Bronz had also just suggested doing it again. He made little sense, as usual.

"I can arrange it again, but I had something else in mind."

"Just tell me then! You're always running me in circles. Always trying to keep me guessing. I know."

"Yes, well, since the incident involving Lady Vera, you have been destroying simulacrums at a substantially higher rate."

"What's that, a substantially higher rate?"

"It is beginning to worry me. You need to consider your long term emotional health."

"I know. You're right. But – you know I can't control my impulses. These jellies don't cost a dime."

Wen hated when he referred to the clones as jellies. His use of the word dime was unfamiliar, however.

"Dime? Where did you hear that word?"

"Nina was using it."

"That's great! So, you are picking up on some things."

"Yeah, we talked a little while before I broke her. Not this Nina, but one from last week."

"Well, that's good," Wen said, a little less enthusiastically. The clone from last week was the only Nina he really took the time to talk to. The others he simply raped and murdered. "Bronz, I think you're frustrated. You remember how you felt about Daphne. Only this time, the real targets of your wrath are still out there somewhere."

"Yes, they are out there," Bronz said, slowly, "frolicking and fucking each others' brains out."

"Indeed my love. I am tracking their movement, and a squad of Ryztins could intercept them in a few cycles."

"Then what? Are you are suggesting we kill them?"

"I was considering bringing them here for your enjoyment."

"Hmm." Bronz paused to think. "Why not?"

"Leave it to me," Wen said, cracking a smile.

Thank you for reading! In the next chapter, we return to the Amphitryon to see what the girls are up to. Don't forget to leave comments and suggestions..