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New Toy
'I want a new toy ... note: this is the unrevised version, which doesn't benefit from the editorial advice of Cecilia Tan. Michael stared through his faceplate at the world spread out below him, white streams of cloud slowly rolling past. He could see the green-brown patches of continents showing through intermittently, and on rare occasions, the grey smudges which represented cities. Life down there was hard; food always scarce and living space at a premium; crime was endemic and there seemed to be very little left worth fighting for. Whereas, up here - Michael was a construction worker in the L5 city of Barker-Newgate, originally asteroid S-NNS-7001. It was the most recent of nine L5s to have been started, and (so far) the biggest. A huge nickel-iron asteroid, slowly rotated and heated with solar reflectors to melt the surface into a solid and (hopefully) airtight wall. The result: a slightly elongated egg three kilometres along its longest axis. The pointed end was almost solid nickel-iron with a scattering of dozens of other valuable elements. Sixteen of them were in the process of digging living quarters out of the pointed end, which they had dubbed 'the nose'. With the whole asteroid spinning along the long axis, they had dug out a warren of tunnels, passages and rooms with varying gravity (Michael's partner, Keng Cheong Woon, had argued vigorously for adopting the phrase 'centripetal acceleration' instead of 'gravity', but she had been the only one ...), from weightlessness at the axis, to about seventy percent earth normal near the outer edge. Their job was to locate any caches of ice or particularly rich ore inside, and to begin the network of residential spaces that would eventually hold the population of a small country. They all had their various hobbies to take up the spare time which became more plentiful towards the end of their six-month shift; as the main tunnel complex neared completion, they found themselves with more than twenty-two hours free in every twenty-six-hour shift. Michael and Keng found themselves spending a lot of time together in the main axial chamber, half a kilometre of empty space in the exact centre of the L5 filled with air and little else. One evening (L5 time), Michael had met her in the chamber, to find her naked but for a set of three-metre-span white-feathered dove's wings, sweeping from one end of the chamber to the other with broad strokes. As Michael got closer, propelled by a battery-powered MHD funnel, he saw that the wings were strapped on by a complicated series of belts and buckles, some of which passed down her back, under her crotch and up between her breasts, which quivered with each stroke in the warm air. The wings were fixed to her arms at the elbow, and as he watched, she spread them to their full extent and drew them inwards with a wind-rushing sound. She shot forward, her long black hair trailing down her back, gradually slowing as the wind resistance of the wings robbed her of the motion they'd imparted. Michael adjusted the attitude of the funnel, drew up next to her and shut it down. Her face was flushed, nipples erect; she gave him a feral grin when she'd recognised him, and clasped him to her. While he hung on tight around her waist, she flexed her arms again, and he felt the straps contract sharply, pressing up against her perineum, sliding between her buttocks. He ran his hand down her side and slipped a finger under the straps that joined in a Y-shape at her lower back; they were made of a slick nanoplastic compound, virtually frictionless on the inner side. The sliding motion of ordinary plastic would have rubbed her skin raw. Michael fondly remembered some other innovative uses for frictionless nanoplastics... "Can you actually get off this way?" he asked her. She shook her head, tossing her hair about her wildly and gasping with exertion. "Almost ... it's rather frustrating, really. I've found that, more than anything else, it's useful for getting me worked up enough to use some of my other toys. Would you like to see them?" Michael grinned, and nodded. "Hang on." She slowly spread the wings out to their full span and thrust vigorously with her left arm, turning them towards the rearwards axial chamber lock. He assisted her flight with judicious use of the funnel, and together they floated down the L5's axis. There was a series of storage spaces in the Zero G area south of the chamber, filled with chondritic ore which had been mined from the asteroid. Amongst these spaces, Keng had set up a private workshop which seemed primarily devoted to the disassembly of a couple of the smaller model mining robots. She had taken parts from both and attached them to a frame about the size of a small single-person bunk. Two short legs, terminating in wide-gripped padded claws projected from one end; two more were mounted at right angles to the frame at the other. It resembled some sort of headless cubist beast, crouched over, hinged at two places so that the frame could curl up. A fibreoptic cable linked the arrangement to a wall panel which presumably connected the construct to the L5's main computer. Michael examined the construct with interest for a few moments, and then admitted defeat. "Okay, I give in ... what is it?" Keng raised her eyebrows as if to say `watch this!' and positioned herself underneath it. She whistled a short sequence to the wall panel, which beeped in response. The servos hissed, and the frame uncurled with a sinister motion. Two tiny optics, mounted where the head would have been, lit up; the machine's upper claws shifted out, then in; the padded clamps opened, moved to grasp Keng's upper arms, then closed carefully. The lower limbs of the device took hold of the calves of her legs and gently stretched her as the frame uncurled slightly. Michael drifted around and underneath to get a better view of what was happening. Keng had her eyes closed; traces of a smile threatened to break through her composure as the machine held her arms out and slowly spread her legs. From along the belly of the machine, a stubby cylinder mounted on two angled servos slid down and then abruptly aimed itself up at her crotch. With an impressive hiss, a gleaming black nanoplastic phallus extended from within the cylinder towards her, the servos rubbing the long, pointed head against her wet lips sensually. Michael admired the delicately balanced feedback sensors, the subtlety of the control program which teased her, promising fulfilment and then cruelly withdrawing, the frame uncurling slightly, holding her arms slightly further apart, forcing her to arch her back. The machine then curled up reflexively, driving the shaft into her with a hiss, forcing a gasp from her. She'd obviously spent a lot of time on the programming, because it moved and reacted more like a desperately randy animal than a mining robot. The penis-mounting servos shuddered, causing the phallus to vibrate erratically from side to side; Keng gave voice to a cry of surprise. "What's wrong?" Michael asked, suddenly concerned. "Oh - uh - nothing, it - unh - it's programmed to - unh- do that at - nnh, at random," she managed. She closed her eyes and hung there in the machine's grasp, letting it gradually work further into her with each thrust; at the end of each convulsive motion, the entire frame curled up around her. Michael drifted back about a metre to get a better view. It was an impressive sight. "I wish I'd brought my video camera," Michael commented. Keng grinned; the machine chose that moment to emit a nasty mechanical screech and stop dead. "Damn. It obviously needs more work." Michael helped prise the clamps open; wiggling her hips, Keng slowly slid off the glistening black appendage, with a sharp intake of breath as the fist-sized end popped out of her vagina. She shuddered and clamped her legs together. "God, that is annoying!" She held out her arms, and Michael crushed her to his chest, stroking her hair. She wrapped her legs around his waist and squeezed, making mock-bestial grunts of frustration. They both laughed, but suddenly Keng stopped and pushed away, holding him at arm's length. Michael looked at her with mild surprise. "I think there's something I should tell you ... I'm Klyte-D-positive." Michael blinked and repressed the impulse to recoil. Klytemnestra-D was a retrovirus which had been tailored by a group of radical feminists on Earth; benign in females, and transmitted in the same way that HIV had been before a cure for that had been found, Klyte-D produced symptoms (in men) identical to advanced tertiary syphilis, compressed into the space of ten days. It was one hundred percent fatal - but only for males. There was a long moment during which neither of them said anything. Keng started to push him away, but he grabbed her shoulders, looked directly into her eyes and whispered, "I don't care." He held her until he thought that he'd convinced her; she tried to struggle from his grip but he locked his arms around hers, held her tightly and kissed her. She continued to oppose him for a few moments, giving in only when she realised that he wasn't going to, returning the feeling and intensity that he gave. They remained locked together, kissing, for almost five minutes; slowly turning end-over-end in the storage space, occasionally fetching up against a wall and gently rebounding. Michael's sense of passing time dissipated until he felt that he'd been holding Keng all his life, but as the passion of their embrace slowly grew, Keng became restless, running her hands down his back to grasp his behind, grinding her hips against him. Eventually, it became too much for her and she broke away, gasping, shaking with barely-repressed desire. She addressed him in a voice slightly tinged with anger, "You swine! I've a good mind to -" He laughed and kissed her again. "A good mind to what, precisely?" She regarded him with a wry grin and beckoned him to follow her. She led him to the next space, which was actually four spaces, arranged end-to-end, forming a rectangular tunnel about twenty metres long. It was finished in rough white ceramic tiles and well-lit. Keng kicked off from the hatch, which was set in one side near the end, or bottom of the space, leaving Michael down the other end. He found a coiled length of elastic, about four millimetres thick and, he estimated, ten metres long. There was a red nanoplastic sphere about the size of a softball affixed to the end of the elastic. Michael squeezed it between thumb and forefinger; it deformed easily and slickly slipped from between his fingers. The other end of the elastic was firmly fastened to the end of the chamber with a dollop of glue. Keng leaped from the other end, trailing a second length of elastic which was attached to the far wall of the chamber. In one hand she held a second red plastic ball; with the other, she reached out to him. He tried to catch her, but the line drew her back just before their fingers met. He kicked off from the wall, trailing uncoiling elastic; she hit the far wall, jumped again, and they met in the centre, giggling. The lines tried to tug them apart with surprising force. "Okay ... you just sit back there and watch." Keng advised him. He handed her the ball and drifted back to float parallel to the wall, arms folded, a slightly bemused smile on his face. She held the two spheres by their lines in her left hand and slid her right between her thighs to stroke herself. She hung there, held at the centre of the room by the two lines, almost motionless; her hand barely moving. She didn't require a great deal of preparation; her fingers collected the wet evidence of her arousal which had been initiated by her frame-robot and spread it along her perineum, her index finger darting back and forth until it was sufficiently lubricated to slide into her rear. She made the tiniest of gasps, which Michael found more erotic than anything he'd yet seen her do; encouraged, she slid her index finger in up to the knuckle, withdrew it and then slid it in again from behind, arching her back to promote the effect of penetration. Her mouth opened in an 'O' of pleasure; she tucked two of her fingers underneath, into her vagina and then back into her behind. She twisted in mid-air, her fingers alternating from one pleasure-nexus to the other; a few tiny droplets of fluid flew from her fingers and pubic hair as her hand burrowed within. Her face took on a familiar flush as her movements accelerated; she caught herself just before she mounted the final, irretrievable peak and reduced her stimulation to slow, sensuous twisting of her labia between her fingers. "Ah ... I, ah, almost got carried away there ... now, this takes some doing, but I've found that it's always worthwhile ..." She grasped one of the red plastic spheres in her right hand, squeezed it; she carefully pressed one rounded end of the resulting cucumber-shape between her labia and slowly forced the entire sphere inside. Once in, it resumed its original shape with a surprising suddenness, the effect of which was clearly apparent from Keng's expression. Holding her knees together, she tugged gently on the elastic, then with slightly more force. Michael could see the ball pushing her lips apart; she spread her legs, and accompanied by a faint 'Ohh!', the ball popped out, glistening with her wetness. She hurriedly grabbed it, squeezed it into a cucumber-shape again and brought it around to her rear. Bent over, with her legs spread as wide as possible, she insinuated the ball into her behind with a considerable degree of flexing of buttock- and thigh-muscles. Michael was ready to come to her aid, should she ask; but after some to-ing and fro-ing, the ball finally slid into her, held inside by the tensing of her anus. She gave a heartfelt sigh; "That's the hard part," she admitted. The other ball slipped easily inside her glistening slit; she twanged the tether and was slowly drawn to the axis formed by the two lengths of elastic. She took hold of the forward-facing line, tugged herself forward about a metre on it, then let go. She was pulled back towards the rearward-facing wall, the tension being transferred to the forward-facing line. She rebounded slowly, back and forth, gradually settling in the spot equidistant from both walls. Michael applauded; grinning, she bowed, holding her legs together to prevent either ball from escaping her hold; she then held up a forefinger as if to announce the start of 'the main event', and tugged on the forward-facing line again. This time, as she reached the point closest to the forward-facing wall - just as the rearward elastic began to exert its influence - she bent over, throwing her arms and legs forward. She held this pose as the rearward line dragged her backwards; as she passed the midpoint, she arched her back, adding a small amount of momentum. She kept this up until she was fairly rocketing back and forth between the walls, to the point where she could almost touch the forward-facing wall. As she passed by, Michael noted that the flushed expression had returned in full force; Keng was emitting audible gasps at the end-points of her course, a slightly louder one when the ball in her behind was tugging its strongest. She gained enough velocity to slap her hands against the walls with each rebound, and had reached the point where she was vigorously throwing herself back and forth when she suddenly curled up into a ball, hugging her knees to her chest. As she passed again, Michael could plainly see the ball begin to work its way out of her vagina, pushing the lips aside and then suddenly shooting out to slap wetly against the far wall. Keng was swiftly dragged backwards, legs kicking involuntarily in the throes of orgasm, to bounce against the rearward-facing wall. Michael hooked his toes into the gap between two tiles and kicked off from the wall to join her. She buried her face in his arms, and as the lights automatically dimmed for evening, they drifted down the length of the storage space together, slowly cartwheeling in the warm darkness. |
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