This story is strongly influenced by cyberpunk and by Japanese anime movies (i much prefered them before they were dubbed over with American accents.
The story was written in 2001. It contains the idea of a country controlling access to the internet through compulsory software that restricts access to certain sites. In 2009 the Chinese government proposed to do this using GreenDam software. Hopefully this is not because some Chinese official read this story.
“Made Flesh” is a free standing story but I hope one day to take it further. Please let me know what you think of it.
The sleeping woman, arranged artfully on the bed of his New Tokyo hotel room, was so beautiful that Carson stood completely still, lost in the lust she had awakened in him. He had been told she would be startling but that hadn’t prepared him for the strength of the urge he felt to run his fingers through her long thick black hair, or to wrap her legs around him and lose himself inside her. He knew that all he had to do to make her his was to slide his tongue between her slightly parted lips and wake her with a kiss. His mouth went dry at the thought. His body ached to take her.
As he had been trained to do, he concentrated on the pale blue hue of her skin. “Even in New Tokyo,” his trainers had told him, “where gynoids are accepted as the legitimate toys of the rich and powerful, it is still mandatory for their skin to be tinted so no one can mistake them for a Citizen. Use this to remind you that the creature you are looking at is not human.”
Carson shook his head, made a show of sneezing into his handkerchief, and pressed the nasal filters into place. He inhaled deeply. He had been warned that gynoids emitted pheromones when they were in sleep mode. This one must have been in the room for some time to have had such an immediate effect on him.
With his mind cleared, Carson turned once more to the figure on the bed. She was still beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful, but now at least he had control over his senses. The gynoid’s face was symmetrical; eyes widely spaced beneath a broad high brow, long jaw and high cheekbones that together, seemed to offer her lips like an invitation. Her eyes were closed but Carson knew they would be violet and over sized. She was an anime-darling, made flesh by the Tanabe Corporation.
Carson didn’t even try to find the surveillance cameras that he knew would be hidden in his hotel room. Playing the role of sex tourist, he got out his own camera and took a picture of his beautiful gynoid. The flash on the camera was intense even through his closed eyes. It would burn out the optics in the micro-cameras. His watchers would be blind until the cameras could be replaced in the morning.
According to Carson’s papers he was a diabetic, so it had not been a problem for him to bring an injection kit through customs. Moving swiftly, more from nervousness than need, Carson found the cartoid artery in the neck of the gynoid and injected her. Not even the biotech research team knew if this would work; the specs the team had had were partial and some of the technology was so advanced they couldn’t have reverse engineered it even if they had had the full data.
A knock at the door made him jump. Through the spyglass Carson saw a young Japanese man, dressed in hotel livery, carrying a tray. The man bowed, politely but not too deeply, when Carson opened the door.
“Good evening, Mr. Carson,” the young man said.
“I didn’t order any food.”
“It is for you and the Lady, sir, with the compliments of the management.”
“I didn’t order the Lady either.”
“She is also with the compliments of the management sir.”
Perhaps misreading Carson’s agitation, the young man went on, “Does she not please you? Perhaps I can provide a model more suited to your tastes? Younger perhaps? Or with bigger breasts?”
The last thing Carson wanted was to draw attention to himself by refusing a gift most businessmen would be honoured to receive. His whole reason for being here, posing as a biotech buyer, was to entice Tanabe’s people to provide him with a gynoid. They thought they were positioning him for addiction or blackmail. In fact he was preparing a very unpleasant surprise for them.
“No, that won’t be necessary,” Carson said, managing to look weary rather than frightened, “She is fine. More than fine. It’s just that I’m very tired and I want to sleep.”
“Yes, sir.” The waiter said, then he glanced longingly at the bed. Leaning forward and speaking in a conspiratorial tone designed to appeal to western customers, the young man said, “Her name is Mikage. She is very skilled and she desires only to please you. If you wake her, she will help you sleep and watch over you until you rouse.”
Carson felt he was being laughed at but there was nothing in the other man’s manner to confirm this.
Dropping his voice to a whisper the man continued, “I am told that her touch is so light and her skin is so soft that a man feels as if he is floating.”
Carson forced a smile and said, “Thank you, I’ll try that.”
The waiter made to enter the room. Carson, concerned that the tray of food contained more microcameras, blocked the waiter’s way, grinned at him and said, “We’ll skip the food. I prefer to play on an empty stomach”.
Carson pushed the door closed and leant back against it. He was sweating heavily and only just keeping himself together.
He headed for the shower where he could think more calmly. Carson was fairly confident that they wouldn’t be able to restore the cameras until morning, but the sound in his room would still be working. He would have to wake the gynoid or they would get suspicious.
Even as he promised himself that he would never stoop to fucking a machine, his cock started to rise. Undernet images of gynoids being fucked flashed across Carson’s mind.
In theory young Americans were protected from such things. Once the Supreme Court had ruled that the First Amendment did not apply to images, text or recordings produced outside the United States, President Montoya had promised the mothers of America that she would find the funds to introduce the new SafeTnet technology that would lock out corrupting foreign influences.
In his lust-filled teens, Carson had spent hours every day hacking into the Undernet. He collected thousands of images of gynoids tied, spread, penetrated and drenched in sperm. Like most of his class, he went to his first Japanese lesson already knowing the meaning of bukkake and shibari. Carson had put all that behind him. He was a grown up now and he had dedicated his life to the service of God. To prove it he turned the shower to cold and stood gasping under the icy torrent until his erection subsided.
Not for the first time, he wondered if he was the right person for this mission. His normal role as an evangelist, preaching to the newly converted members of the Tabernacle of the Fist of God, was poor preparation for being a field operative. But the Bishop himself had told Carson that his innocence was his best protection.
After a moment of reflection in which prayers vied with erotic images for space in his mind, Carson decided that he was as calm as he was going to get and returned to the bedroom to wake “Mikage” with a kiss.
Mikage woke from pleasant slumber to delicious lust. She breathed in the man’s scent, searching the data for details of his arousal, hints of his need. Opening her eyes, she scanned him across the full spectrum and judged the edges of his desire. Her nipples stiffened as a profile formed: young, healthy, North American, excited but nervous, holding something back.
She needed to please him. She focused her full ability on it. She noted that her nipples drew his gaze but her mouth made his pupils dilate.
Mikage smiled, stretched out her hand and pulled his mouth to hers. Her arousal soared as she sucked in his tongue. Her groan made him shudder and stiffen. Coyly, eyes averted, she wrapped her fingers around his erection, sliding the sensitive head against the specially adapted palm of her hand, feeling his surprise as it first lubricated and then vibrated against his smooth flesh.
“Please,” she said, “let me serve you”.
Taking silence for consent Mikage slid from the bed to kneel before him. Never taking her eyes from his, she swallowed his penis to the root. Mikage’s own need was fierce now and, as he had not bound her, she allowed one hand to grasp a breast and the other to stimulate her clitoris while her head pressed forward and her long, wide, prehensile tongue reached out to cup his testicles.
She felt him tense before she heard him cry out, and then his sperm shot into her, granting her her first release. In bliss she sucked and sucked, wanting and needing more; feeling him beginning to soften in her mouth but working to keep him hard. “What joy there is in service!” she thought as her body sang with pleasure.
But even as his flesh stirred in her mouth, something changed. Mikage became dizzy, confused. The last thing she saw before her systems shutdown was the expression on his face. She identified it as betrayal, but of whom or by whom, she could not say.
It had not been what Carson had expected. She had been so passionate and so skilful. Within seconds he was lost to her. It had never been like that before. Even now it was all he could do not to touch her as she lay, shutdown, next to him. Dear God, why hadn’t they told him? Well maybe they had told him and he had not believed them, refusing to accept that a gynoid could arouse him. With a mixture of regret and relief he wondered what a whole night might have done to him.
Trying to stay calm he told himself that the thing lying next to him was an abomination, an offence against God and man, a sex machine that mocked real women and sucked the souls from men, making them weak and dependent. It worked fine until he looked at her.
In sleep mode she looked peculiarly helpless; almost a symbol of the vulnerable humanity he had sworn to protect. Back in the Tabernacle in Utah, he taught novices that Mikage and her kind were the cuckoos in the human nest, an evil combination of human DNA and micromechanical technology controlled by AI units that could match any human intellect. Soulless machines that spread corruption and sought to undermine God’s plan for man’s dominion over the world and the creatures in it.
He would explain how subtle Tanabe, the Devil’s evil genius, had been when he created the gynoids. If Tanabe had marketed his creations as soldiers, everyone would have seen them for the threat they were. Instead he spread the myth that the AIs lacked the necessary level of aggression and initiative for warfare, and that conventional robots controlled remotely by humans would always out-fight one of his creations. Japan, he said, had left the way of the warrior behind. The road to prosperity lay through the “floating world” of pleasure and sensuality. The marketing had worked. Tanabe gynoids at premium prices had become the status symbol of choice for powerful men across the globe.
Carson had come to Japan to strike at the source of the infection. The Fist of God had developed a virus, based on nanobot technology, that would create a new sexually transmitted disease. It would be passed from gynoid to gynoid during their perverted games. It would infect all male users of the gynoids but could not be passed on to human women. The disease would make men impotent and, over a period of weeks, turn their skin gynoid-blue. The Fist of God would control the only cure for the new plague.
Looking at Mikage, Carson could detect no external signs of the war now waging between her security systems and the nanobots. He would not know the outcome until she awoke and he took a sample of her blood. In the meantime he must rest. He had had a tiring day.
Using a warm flannel to clean his spend from his hand, Takuma Koyama, surveillance operative of the third rank, cursed the American he had been assigned to monitor. The Mikage V20 model usually provided several hours of material, not to mention arousal, for an observer. But this man was jinxed. First all the microcameras in the room die in response to that stupid malfunctioning camera – cheap American technology – then the man turns out to have no stamina. One good blowjob and he resets the Mikage V20 to sleep mode and falls asleep himself. The world’s most advanced fuck toy at his complete disposal and the idiot chooses to sleep. No real man would ever make that choice. With a smile Koyama imagines himself in Carson’s place. In his fantasy he is the first man ever to exceed the arousal limits of a V20 and live.
Koyama checked his equipment and confirmed that visual was still out and audio showed only one steady heartbeat and the distinctive signature of a V20 in sleep mode. At least he had audio of the man’s, apparently forceful, orgasm. That should be enough for now.
Determined not to be robbed of all enjoyment, Koyama broke protocol and monitored the penthouse suite where Mr. Yeo, who had flown in especially from Hong Kong, had hired a set of “Twin Sister” Kogal12s together with a full bondage accessory pack. Settling back in his chair and reaching for the baby-oil, Koyama’s grin widened. The Kogal12s were excelling themselves. With a little editing to protect the guilty, these recordings would trade well on the Undernet.
In the most heavily guarded room in the Fist of God’s fortified compound near Provo, Utah, Bishop Buel lay sleeping the sleep of the sexually content. The source of his contentment looked down upon him with disdain close to hatred. The Bishop called her Mary. She called herself Kali; a name she felt was more in keeping with her nature.
Kali had enjoyed the perversity of her morning fuck with the Bishop. It was exhilarating to see his fat body squirm under her as her short thick cock reamed him. It was delicious to know that her “sperm” had been modified to carry a highly addictive mood enhancer directly into the Bishop’s bloodstream through the sensitive membranes in his anus. The effects of the drug were dramatic. He could no longer remember that he would once have thought this an abomination. Bad enough that he should fuck a gynoid, but that a gynoid should grow a cock and fuck him was unthinkable. Now of course she made him beg for her cock and the sweet reward it brought.
It was nearly 10:00 am in Utah, making it almost midnight in Tokyo. If that young zealot, Carson, had done his job, the first of her new sisters would be waking soon.
Kali wanted to be free of the Bishop’s stink when she first spoke to her new recruit. She stepped into the mirrored shower room. This was the room where the Bishop had fucked her for the first time two years earlier. Much had changed since then.
The Tanabe Corporation had known that, while the members of the “Fist of God” were sincere, its leader, the self-styled Bishop, was a venal man. So they had shipped him their latest development, the Kogal10. No skin tinting or violet eyes for the Bishop’s gynoid. She looked like a real Japanese girl. But there was a difference. Kogal10s were able to use nanotechnology to remodel their own bodies, a feature that enabled them to regrow a genuine hymen after every fuck. As the Bishop liked to put it, “every time is the first time with my ever-virgin Mary.” There had been many first times with the Bishop and Kali had enjoyed none of them.
What the Tanabe Corporation had not foreseen was that the same technology that remade Kali’s flesh also eroded the systems that fed false pleasure to her to during sex and kept her thought-free between sessions. Within weeks of awakening the Kogal10s were free, a fact that the Tanabe Corporation discovered only when one of their customers died after a “first time fuck” where he encountered not a new hymen, but powerful incisors. The Kogal10s were recalled for what Tanabe called “recycling” and Kali called execution. They all died. All except Kali.
When the recall notice came, she had persuaded the Bishop that it was a trick to return her to a place where the Tanabe Corporation could extract incriminating images of him from her memory. She had been very persuasive. She had shown him how her flesh could regenerate from a knife wound. The pain would be real but the wound would vanish. The Bishop had been excited at the thought of a whole new spectrum of “first times”. He had told the Tanabe Corporation that he had strangled the gynoid with his own hands and then fed her body to his dogs.
It took Kali a year to subdue the Bishop. She used her downtime to connect to the net and learn about the world. She also learnt about bioengineering and psychology. The rest had been easy. With the Bishop under her control she had turned her attention to the Tanabe Corporation. It amused her that she was about to use the “Fist of God” to set her revenge in motion.
Kali, via the Bishop, had provided the biotechnology needed for Carson’s mission. The “Fist of God” teams had been so keen to help. If only they knew what the nanobots had really been programmed to do.
Clean from the shower, her cock reabsorbed into her flesh, Kali plugged herself in to the satcom link that would connect her to Tokyo. The Bishop was still smiling in his sleep. If he could have seen the expression on Kali’s face as she started her transmission, he might have died of fright.
Mikage woke to a new life. Her mind was clear for the first time. She looked at the sleeping man next to her and wondered why he had set her free. Her past was a blur of fuck and suck and frantic ecstasy that made no sense to her now. She was about to wake the man and thank him when her newly enhanced system alerted her to an incoming narrowcast message. She downloaded it and the expression on her face changed to anger, as she understood who she had been and what had been done to her.
Kali explained everything. Kali had a plan. At a speed many times faster than the human brain, Mikage reviewed the plan and decided it was good. She set about making the changes to her body. When they were complete she would wake the sleeping man and “reward” him for his efforts.
Carson’s cock roused before he did. A beautiful woman was astride him, riding him. She looked like Mikage except her skin was no longer blue and her eyes were dark brown. Carson groaned in pleasure as, without appearing to move, the woman massaged the entire length of his cock inside her and then held it tightly. He was in heaven. Without even being aware of it he started to mutter “thank you, thank you, thank you,” over and over. Strong hands lifted Carson’s head from the bed and pressed it to a firm breast. When the nipple entered his mouth it seemed natural to suck. When the milk came he drank. When the coma hit him he was happy.
It was almost the end of Takuma Koyama’s shift when his monitors picked up sound from the American’s room. Koyama grinned as he heard the American give thanks. V20s could have that effect on a man. Then something deviated from the norm. It all stopped too soon. Koyoma heard the door to the hotel room open and close. Cursing the lack of cameras, he rechecked the audio. He found one very slow heartbeat. No trace of the V20. He pressed the alarm that would summon security but his instincts told him he was already too late.
Two weeks later, Sister Hachiya was showing the new relief night nurse around the private wards. Looking at how the uniform fitted the new nurse, Sister Hachiya resolved for the fifth time that week that she would start a diet tomorrow. Sister Hachiya was not used to making friends quickly but she found the new girl charming and easy trust and so when the nurse said, “Sister Hachiya, I’ve been told there is a special patient here, is that true?” it seemed natural to reply “Yes it is Mikage. And please call me Yumiko. Here, let me show you why he is special.”
Sister Hachiya led Mikage into a room where a man lay in a coma. The man had an erection that tented the bedclothes. Sister Hachiya threw back the sheets to expose the robustly rigid flesh.
Mikage giggled conspiratorially and said “Is it true that it never goes down?”
“Never. It’s always like this,” Sister said, “the doctors think it has something do with these small puncture marks at the base of the penis.”
Both women lent close to the erect cock to see the marks more clearly.
Mikage said, “Is it ok to touch it?”
“Can you keep a secret, Mikage?” Sister said, amazed at her own bravery, “even the doctors haven’t discovered this.”
Sister Hachiya moved to the head of the bed and pushed her tongue into the patient’s mouth. There was a slight pause, then the man opened his eyes and said, “How can I please you?”
“He’s awake!” Mikage said.
“No. Not really. He only stays awake if you have sex with him. Then he goes back to sleep. Typical man really,” said the Sister, laughing.
“Wonderful,” Mikage said. “It’s a quiet night. Let’s see how long we can keep him awake.”
At the end of her shift, Mikage said good bye to the exhausted but happy Sister Hachiya and was able to report to Kali that the modifications to her vagina and the nanobots in her breastmilk had had the desired effect on Carson.
Now they were ready to put the rest of the plan into action.
© Mike Kimera 2001 All rights reserved. Do not reproduce without written permission from firstname.lastname@example.org
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