The Insemination Cell

"You wanted her to break? How? What? You wanted her to go crazy? Have a nervous breakdown? To become catatonic? How did you want her to break?"

"I wanted her to cry. She never once cried. I wanted her to break down sobbing and beg me for help. Hell, I rigged her machine settings with Rivera so it wouldn't administer any of the drugs that make them want to fuck you, suck you off and swallow your cum. I even cut her off from the pain meds, the lubricants and all those extras, but that old bitch dealt with it all and never once even shed a tear."

"Wait," I said, stunned at hearing all of this. "Rivera never told me about changing settings or extras? What are you talking about? There were drugs they could have given my daughter to make her want to fuck me?"

Bernie scowled and gave me a lopsided smirk. "Of course, there are. It should have all been in your questionnaire."

"What questionnaire? I didn't get a questionnaire. What were all these options? Why the hell didn't I get a questionnaire?"

Bernie shrugged. "Maybe that's the difference between a ten thousand dollar check and a seventy-five thousand dollar check?"

"But Rivera never even gave me an option. Does that sound right to you? I mean my daughter was in serious pain at times, especially our first anal when the machine wouldn't stop pounding my cock into her ass. She was in total agony."

Bernie's face dropped. He sat back in the booth, a deep scowl on his face. "Why didn't you just use your safe word so Abby would stop?"

Now I was truly upset. "There's a fucking safe word? And who the fuck is Abby?"

Bernie shook his head, his mouth open, teeth showing and grimacing in shocked disbelief. "Rivera didn't even give you a safe word? What the hell kind of a fucked up experience was that? And you didn't know the computer's name?"

"No! Now I do, but I never heard any of this before. I am fucking completely clueless."

"But," Bernie said, "The computer introduces herself as soon as you both wake up in there as Abby. There's a whole question and answer session for both you and your abducted guest. It sets down the rules and gives you all the options available. How could you miss that?"

"She never did that."

We sat there in silence.

Finally, Bernie said, "Well, as shitty as your experience was for ten grand, at least you got what you wanted out of it."

"I am definitely going to go have a talk with Rivera," I said. "This is complete bullshit."

"Oh, I heard he closed his house down. It's up for sale."

"Does he still live around here?"

Bernie shrugged. "No idea."

"Does his number still work?"

Bernie shrugged and sipped his beer.

I pulled my phone out, unlocked it and called Rivera. It went to voicemail. I left a message. "Hey, Asshole," I said, "Thanks for almost wrecking my daughter's ass! If I ever see you again I'm going to kick yours." I hung up the phone.

"Do you think he'll ever even get that message?" Bernie asked.

"He will if I ever see him."

We chuckled, and I finished my beer.

Putting down the empty glass, I burped and said, "Something... sort of bothers me... about my situation."

"What's that?" Bernie asked, "Having to arrange the kidnapping or having to keep this a secret forever?"

I shook my head. "No... nothing like that. I never would have gotten together with my own daughter without lying and cheating. It's just a weird thing. I noticed something... off... on the first day we were, you know, getting it on for the first time." I shook my head, thinking back on what had happened.

"Yeah, what? Was your daughter too disgusted to look at you while her own Dad was banging her for the first time?"

"Actually," I said, "Just the opposite. My daughter acted like she was disgusted, at first. She said all the right things... but it seemed... fake." I frowned and shrugged, shaking my head. "Maybe it was my imagination, but I always thought my daughter was inappropriately attracted to me. You know what I mean?"

Bernie shook his head, downed his beer and poured another from the pitcher. "What do you mean? You always thought your daughter wanted to fuck you, but she didn't act that way on the first day?"

He offered to fill my empty glass with the pitcher by hovering it over the rim and raising his brow. I waved him off.

"No, not really wanted to fuck me, but Julia has always... admired me... from afar, sort of. I even overheard her telling her girlfriend once that she would marry her Dad if she could."

Bernie laughed. "What? Was she ten?"

I chuckled. "No. She was nineteen."

Bernie pulled his head back, a disturbed look on his face. "That is weird."

"Yeah, it is," I said, "But when she first saw me naked, and was talking to me that first day, Julia acted way more disgusted by the prospect of being forced to have sex with me than I had expected."

"Tom," Bernie said, "What fucking hot young girl wants to get fucked by her fifty-something year-old father? Just the social disgrace of being foundvout if she secretly wanted to fuck you would be enough to make her act disinterested. I think maybe you were being a bit too sensitive."

I frowned and nodded.

"She wants to fuck the shit out of you now, right?"

I nodded and smiled. "Yeah, she does."

"Here's to another great plan coming together, and to you banging a smoking hot young blonde who just happens to be your own fucking daughter, Mr. Tom Bradley, you sick lucky prick."

Without asking, he poured me another beer. I raised my glass to his toast and we drank.

A thought occurred to me as we finished our beers.

"Hey, Bernie," I said, "Maybe Myrtle never cried because she's in love with you and was having the best two weeks of her life, too."

Bernie looked astounded at that idea. He sat there, thinking, eyes wide and white as a ghost.

"That would also explain why she treats you so badly, you being married to her daughter."

Bernie turned even whiter.

"There's an easy way to find out."

"What's that?" Bernie asked.

"Text Myrtle and ask her if she loves you."

He laughed. "No," he said, "You don't know Myrtle. She will forward that text to my wife."

"No, she won't. Try it."

"But... what if she forwards it to my wife?"

"So what? You're asking if her mother loves you? It's a needy sounding cry for maternal attention, nothing more. That's an excellent cover. And, if Myrtle does love you in the way you want, maybe she will text you back with something... significant. The ball is in her court."

Bernie thought about that. He nodded and pulled out his phone. He wrote a text, took a deep breath, reading it over several time, and then sent it. "There," he said, "I sent it. All it says is, 'Myrtle, do you love me?' Now, the ball is in her--"

His phone chirped before he finished speaking.

He looked at it and showed it to me. It read, 'Yes, I do.'

"Write, how much."

He wrote it and texted it.

We waited, sipping our beers.

It took a while, but his phone finally chirped.

Bernie read it and recited it to me. "Not as much as I love my daughter."

I said, "Wow! That woman is so fucking in love with you, Bernie."

He scoffed and shook his head. "How do you figure that?"

"She just told you that her daughter is the only thing keeping you two apart."

He laughed. "That's ridiculous. She just told me she loves her daughter more than me."

"No," I said, "She said if it weren't for her daughter, she would be with you. That's what she just said."

"You're being ridiculous, Tom. This woman hates my guts. I raped her for two weeks straight."

"Okay," I said, "Text her this, 'Do you regret our kidnapping?'."

"No way!" he said, shaking his head. "Of course, she regrets it. She hates me and she hates everything that happened."

"Just text it. Let her tell you all that if that's the case, but, if it isn't the case, you're going to find some shit out."

Bernie frowned, shaking his head, but slowly typed the text. He took a few deep breaths and sent it.

A few minutes went by and we ordered another pitcher of beer. As we settled in to the booth with our new pitcher, his phone chirped.

Bernie read it. "Yes," he said, and showed me the text. "See!"

The phone chirped again, and Bernie pulled it quickly back to read it. His eyes popped up and he looked at me in stunned silence. After several seconds, he whispered, "Holy shit!" He turned the phone toward me. The follow-up text read, 'and no.'

"Write, 'I set up the first one. Do you want to do it again?'"

Bernie bounced up in his seat. "No fucking way, Dude! You're crazy!"

"Write it!" I said.

"NO!"

"Write the goddamn text, you fucking coward!"

Bernie sat down hard on the booth bench and shook his head. "What if she turns these into the police?"

"Then you say you were joking with the old bat!"

"But... but she might... show Miranda."

"She won't. Now write it. Hurry. Don't give her time to think."

Bernie sighed loudly. He started typing. "I can't believe I'm even writing this." He finished typing, shook his head once and said, "This is fucking nuts." He took a loud deep breath and hit send.

Right after he sent it I could see the panicked look on his face.

"Oh, my God, I can't believe I just sent that. She is going to have me fucking arrested. This is the end of my fucking life, the end of my marriage, the end of my job. I'm going to fucking prison!" He put his hands over his face and shook his head back and forth, moaning.

His phone chirped. He picked it quickly up off the table and we both read it. It read, 'I figured that out on our first day there. I'm free the second two weeks of July, but I would prefer sooner, so you decide when.'

A huge smile formed on Bernie's elated face. "Tommy! You are a fucking genius!" He laughed loudly and then clapped a hand to his forehead. "Shit!" he said, "How do I explain two kidnappings with the same old lady? Hell, how do you explain two kidnappings in a lifetime?" He shook his head, at a loss.

"You don't have to--" I began, but he cut me off.

"I have to get in touch with Rivera! He'll know what to do. Shit! Wait! I have to come up with another seventy-five grand! How the hell am I going--"

"Stop! Stop, Bernie! Listen to me."

Bernie turned to face me, blinking his eyes repeatedly and looking bewildered.

"You don't need any of that. Your mother-in-law doesn't need to be kidnapped or taken anywhere now."

"I don't.. but how... I don't get it?" Bernie's face searched mine, clueless.

"She just invited you over her house to fuck her, Bernie. Yes, you do get it, and you will be getting it any time you want it."

Bernie scowled and snatched up his phone to reread the text she had sent.

"It's all right there," I said. "Keep reading." I laughed, picked up my mug and watched him studying her text. Amused, I took a nice big sip of my beer.

----------------------

Also, three months later, (or the same day Tom was meeting with Bernie), An outdoor café on a side-street in Madrid, Spain:

Julia...

Julia sat enjoying her wine and watching the foot traffic shuffle by out on the sidewalk. Rafael, an older man wearing a white suit and a smug smirk on his face, sat down across from her. She smiled contentedly at him.

"Hi, Ralph," she said, sipping her white wine. "Good to see you could make it."

"Sorry, I am late, Julia," he said, crossing one leg over another and motioning for the waiter. "Or maybe you are the one who is late. Did you spend all this time with your father after you two left my Cell, or have you been avoiding me?"

Julia smiled fiendishly. "Yes, we're lovers now, thanks to you. I spent the last two wonderful weeks with my Dad, and this is the first chance I was able to slip away. He thinks I flew here for a screen test."

The waiter arrived. Rafael ordered a vodka Martini with a twist of lemon, and a salad.

As he departed, Julia said, "So how much do I owe you?"

Rafael smirked and nodded. "Right down to business, eh?"

"I just want to know how many more dicks I have to suck so I can settle my debts. Now that I have the only lover I ever wanted I'm not too thrilled with the deal I made."

Rafael chuckled. "Actually, Julia," he said, "You can give me a nice blowjob in the men's room today, but I think, after you do that for me, your debt will be paid in full."

Julia's eyebrows shot up. "Really, Ralph? You're satisfied with all the footage from the Cell?"

Rafael pursed his lips and nodded. "Yes, Julia. You and your father were amazing. I have countless hours of the most graphic and delightful incest porn I or any of my associates have ever seen."

Julia squealed, jumped from her chair, moved around the small table and hugged Rafael. "Thank you, Ralph. Thank you so much."

He awkwardly patted her back as she hugged him. "No, thank you, Julia. I mean that. Your performance was superb. Your father's reactions were perfect, and you did things in that room with him that I have never seen done before."

Julia giggled and went back to sit in her chair. "You really liked my acting?" She whisked up her glass and took a swig, waiting excitedly on Rafael's reaction.

He pointed at her, nodded gravely and said, "I believed every single word, every cry of pain and every single explosive orgasm."

Julia stomped her feet, clapped her hands and giggled. "Thank you, Ralph."

"I have one question, my dear."

"What is it?"

"How much was acting and how much was real?"

"Well, Ralph," she said, lifting her wine and swirling it in the glass, "If I told you that then how could you enjoy all that footage?" She took a sip, wearing a mischievous smirk.

Rafael chuckled, nodding. After a pause, he said, "I have to know this, though. When you swallowed all that cum, a hundred of your own father's loads in less than an hour, did you truly orgasm four times?"

Julia grinned giddily, taking in a deep breath and sitting taller in her seat. She nodded, letting out a chortling laugh she couldn't contain any longer. "I came like a horny, cocksucking schoolgirl, Ralph, over and over. Didn't you see the puddle I left on the fucking floor. It was wonderful."

Rafael slapped the table. "Bravo!" he shouted. "And was it a lot of semen to handle?"

"Oh, my God! I was positively bloated. Those frigging testical stimulators you told me about really do work. It was his real cum - and load after fucking load - blah! I almost fucking lost it like ten times."

Rafael smiled. "They're seminal vesicle stimulators."

"They're what now?" Julia asked, wide-eyed.

Rafael waved dismissively. "Nevermind."

The waiter dropped off Rafael's drink and salad, and left.

As Rafael took a sip of his Martini, Julia grew serious. "What happened with my umbilicus and all my automating tendrils, Ralph? My father's all worked fine, thank God, but I had to... drastically improvise. It was nearly a disaster, especially it being the first day."

Rafael shrugged and shook his head. He put his drink down and swallowed, looking a bit taken aback. "Well, sometimes, Julia... technology that advanced just... fails."

Julia shook her head, glaring at him and frowning. "I got tricked into giving my virgin ass to my Dad's huge cock by that fucking rule change, and then the equipment stopped fucking assisting me as soon as he penetrated my asshole. That is all.... way too much of a fucking coincidence, Ralph. That was fucking sabotage!"

Rafael's face turned red. He took a bite of his salad and chewed, shaking his head, but looking guilty as hell.

"You fucking set me up for that ass reaming, Ralph! Admit it! Be a fucking man and admit you wanted to see me pull my poor pounded ass off my Dad's big cock and run away. That way I could star in all your filthy underworld porn, fucking and sucking goats and donkeys for the next two years."

Rafael choked, trying to swallow his salad and coughed the remnants into a napkin. He dramatically shook his head. "But you..." he said, pausing to cough and then continued, "But you handled it in spectacular fashion, Julia. If I hadn't known any better, I would have believed the tendrils and umbilicus were pushing you right back into your father. It was an amazing feat of ass fucking, especially for a first timer. You should be proud of that."

"I had to push my injured, overstretched ass back onto that fucking big, thick cock just as hard and as fast as it was pumping into me!"

Rafael nodded repeatedly. "And that is one of the best scenes of all, my dear! It was superb!"

Julia shook her head. "You are such a louse, Ralph. If I hadn't done that. If I had ruined everything by screaming, pulling that huge dick out and running away crying like I wanted to, you'd have won. You'd have won and you would own me right now."

Rafael let out a sigh and nodded. "True, Julia. I would have won. I admit it... like a man."

Julia stood, snatched up his glass, and tossed his drink right in his face.

Rafael jerked back, sputtering, "You fucking Cunt!" he shouted, wiping his face with his soiled napkin and dropping oil and chewed up baby greens on his white suit. "This is a six thousand dollar Beaumonte suit!"

The entire crowd in the cafe stared at the spectacle in silence.

Julia grabbed her bag and shouldered it. "Ciao, Ralph!" she declared loudly, "Go blow yourself in the men's room. I'm going home to fuck my father... and I do thank you for that. As for your suit?" She reached out, grabbed his breast pocket and ripped it half off in one yank.

Rafael gasped, jumped off his seat, stumbled away and knocked his chair over as he fled. The crowd gasped in unison.

"It didn't feel getting ripped apart!" Julia shouted. "My asshole did!" She turned and strode toward the exit through the stunned crowd.

A round of applause followed her as she left.

THE END