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Recovery

By: whbonney



When Jeremy dropped them off at their dorm, Kim kissed him hard and very passionately, and helped her sister into their dorm room. She was barely able to walk. Kim took her into the shower and helped her clean up and held her tight when they got into bed. Kassidy hadn't said much since they got home and fell asleep quickly.

They awoke at 10:00 that night and Kassidy tried to get up, but her ass was so sore that she couldn't. Kim asked if she could get anything for her, and Kassidy told her that she was hungry and thirsty, and Kim got up and got her a diet coke and called to have a pizza delivered. While they waited for the pizza, Kim told Kassidy that they should turn the guy who had fucked her in the ass for almost two hours into the police. Kassidy said no, in fact she wanted to see him again, that she had enjoyed it and wanted to have him do her again, when she had healed..

Kim looked at her, then burst into laughter, "You little fucking slut, you are insatiable, aren't you?" and she leaned down and kissed her sister, telling her "and I love it. You are a survivor just like mom."

There was a knock on the door and they opened it and Kim paid for the pizza. While they were eating she told Kassidy that she had Jeremy's cell number because she had enjoyed herself with him, and she would find out how to get in touch with Ken. He had told Kim on the way back to the dorm that it was the first time he had ever seen anyone, man or woman, be able to handle the brutal ass fucking Kassidy had received. Seem that in prison, Ken had turned quite a few men into wimps by giving them his "marathon" ass fucking, and he had never seen a woman on the outside make it more that and hour and 15 minutes before screaming out for mercy. Kim understood that, his cock was huge, not only long, but thick as hell, and here was her sister begging to have him plug her ass again. She was impressed, but also worried. Time would tell.

The next morning, Kassidy still couldn't walk so Kim went to classes alone, and she saw Darnell and told him what a son-of-a-bitch he was for leaving them, and said he and Armand may as well never ask for a date again. When she got home that afternoon, Kassidy was walking very gingerly, and she lifted her tshirt and showed Kim her ass. Kim noticed that it was still very red and she reached over and touched her. Kassidy jumped when her hand came in contact and she fell back on the bed. She told Kim she didn't know if she would be able to go home to their mother's party this weekend, even when she went to the bathroom she almost cried, and the toilet paper hurt like hell when she wiped. Kim told her she would call home and tell their mom that she had to do it on her own. Kassidy told her they would call, but she might be able to make it, they would have to wait until later in the week to make sure. Kim pushed her back on her bed and kissed her way down to Kassidy's pussy. She started to lick her pussy lips, and her clit as she talked to her. 

"Are you sure you want to meet this guy again, Kass?" 

"I'm very sure, Kim, it was the most incredible thing I have ever done, and I want him to do it again, when the soreness is gone, not only that, he was beautiful, and I want to be his as long as he wants me to."

Kim laughed as she said, "So you fell in love with his cock, you slut. You know that he will probably continue to share you with any of his buddies that he wants to."

Kassidy said, "Yea, I know it, but I don't care, you will always be with me won't you, Kim"

Kim only mumbled "Mmmmph huh" around the pussy surrounding her mouth, as she continued to lick her sister's cunt. She pulled out a bit and her tongue touched her sisters asshole, and Kassidy pushed her ass into Kim's face.

Kassidy said, "It doesn't hurt so much anymore, especially with your tongue on it, I love you Kim. I don't want us to ever be apart for long" and she felt her pussy start to throb as she experienced an orgasm. She hollered at Kim, "Eat me you beautiful cunt, eat my ass and my pussy" and she felt the juice from her pussy gush forward and Kim's tongue follow the trickle back to her cunt. She spread her legs wider as her sister pushed her tongue deep into her, lapping at the liquids and thought of being ass fucked again very soon. Her ass throbbed with a slight pain and her nipples got harder than they have ever been in her life, and she came again, and Kim kept right on eating her.

Kim watched Kassidy drift off to sleep, and called the number Jeremy had given her yesterday. Someone answered and when she asked for Jeremy she was told he was busy and they would have him call back. She needed a cock to suck and hoped she could get him to meet her somewhere and then she would tell him about her sisters desire to get with Ken again. She hung up the phone, and went to get a diet coke. She turned on the TV and lay back on her bed and began to finger her pussy, thinking about the wild time she had had on Saturday night until early Sunday morning. She had sucked at least 8 of the men at the house, and had watched her sister as she sucked Jeremy's cock as everybody watched and she had loved it. She felt herself begin to close in on an orgasm and closed her eyes, and then the phone rang.

She picked up the receiver and said hello. It woke Kassidy, and it was Jeremy on the other end. She explained who she was and told him she needed to talk with him, if he didn't mind. They arranged to meet at the library on campus, and he told her to be there in an hour. She told Kassidy where she was going and kissed her good bye and went to meet Jeremy.

Jeremy showed up about a half hour late, and he opened the passenger door and told Kim to get in the back seat. He told her the driver's name was Bernard and then he got in the back seat with her. He asked her what she wanted, she explained the desire her sister had, and he told her he would see Ken on Friday and let him know about the request. Then Jeremy took hold of Kim's hair and told her there was no need to waste time and guided her face to his lap. His cock was already in his hand and he pushed it against her lips. She opened her mouth and took him in. 

"That's it my little cocksucker, do what you do best." 

Kim began to suck, with gusto. She loved feeling his cock grow in her mouth, and the precum began to flow onto her tongue. 

"Bernard, do you want some of this mouth when I'm through feeding her my cum?"

Bernard laughed and said, "You damn straight, and my balls are full of fucking cum, I haven't got any booty in over a week."

Kim heard this and sucked harder on Jeremy's cock. The sucking sounds she was making could be heard all over the car. 

Bernard said, "Damn she must be working you, all I can hear is her sucking."

Jeremy leaned back and said "Yea she's doing a good job, but I'm going to let her work a while before she get's her reward."

While Bernard and Jeremy were talking Kim felt her body quiver into another orgasm, she loved to have men talk about her and she especially love to be talked about when she was having sex. She continued to run her tongue over Jeremy's cock, enjoying the salty sticky substance he was producing for her. She wanted a mouth full of his cum and she showed him just how much she did in the way she sucked his cock, and she looked forward to sucking Bernard's cock, wondering what it would taste like.

Jeremy grabbed Kim's hair and ran her head up and down his cock as he thrust his hips forward. He was fucking this girls mouth the way he loved to. He pulled her off his cock and looked her in the eyes, her mouth stringing precum from it. He turned her head and said to Bernard "See what a good cocksucker she is." 

Bernard looked back and Kim sat with her mouth open and the signs showing she just had been working Jeremy's cock. He looked Kim in the eyes and told her, "I've got more for you, white slut. You enjoy sucking black cocks don't you" 

Kim just nodded her head, and Jeremy pushed her back down on his cock, and she began sucking again, again the sounds in the car were her mouth paying homage to Jeremy's cock. She had his balls in her hand and she squeezed them lightly as her tongue traveled along the sides and the head of the beautiful cock. She sucked his cock for the next 45 minutes with Jeremy calling her every name that came to him until finally she felt his cock expand even more and she knew that he was going to begin to fill her mouth. He told her "Don't swallow any of my cum, just hold it in your mouth or I'll never let you suck me off again." She pulled back until just the head was inside her teeth and he the sperm began to flow. His cock jerked what seemed like 10 or 11 times and her mouth filled until it overflowed and ran down her chin, but she kept all she could in her mouth. 

Jeremy pulled free and told her to look at him and open her mouth. Kim looked up at his eyes and opened her mouth, she knew it was full of his cum and was worried some more would flow out but she did exactly as she was told. 

Jeremy smiled at her and told her to go and eat. Kim made a production of closing her mouth and swallowing deeply, then opening her mouth and showing him that it was empty. He told her she had done a good job, and she could again suck him when they saw each other again. She snuggled her face against his cock and kissed his balls. Jeremy said "Now suck Bernard off, we have to leave."

Kim climbed over the seat and saw Bernard already had his cock in the air for her, it was about 8 inches and very beautiful. She bent down and took it into her mouth and began to suck it. It didn't take long and Bernard told her he was going to cum, and filled her mouth with the second load of man milk that evening. When she was finished she climbed into the back seat and snuggled with Jeremy on the way back to the dorm. He fingered her cunt on the way back and she orgasmed again. When they got to the dorm she kissed him goodbye and went in to talk with Kassidy.

Kassidy was awaked when she came into the room, and Kim told her about the meeting with Jeremy. She asked her when she might be able to fuck again. Again Kassidy didn't know, but still left the option open for going to see their mom that weekend. 

Kassidy asked Kim, "Will you make me feel better, Kim?" 

Kim nodded and said, "I would to, Kass." With that Kassidy stripped her clothes off and turned onto her stomach. Kim kissed her ass cheeks and knew she had to be careful, and she started running her tongue over Kassidy ass cheeks and rubbing her back. Kassidy told her how great that felt and Kim slowly worked her way around until her tongue came to the top of Kassidy's ass crack. Kim took her tongue and slowly began to run down her sister's ass, spreading her cheeks as she went. She saw Kassidy's ass hole was still red but seemed to be getting better, she pushed her ass cheeks wide open and her tongue found the spot where Kens cock had been two days ago and she began to lick her sister's ass. Kassidy moaned and told her sister to take it slow, but Kim pushed deeper and Kassidy moaned as she felt the tongue enter her ass hole. Kassidy pushed her hand under her and worked it until she felt her clit. Kim's tongue stayed busy licking her sister's ass, and her nose enjoyed the smell of Kassidy's cunt.

Kassidy came as Kim worked her tongue deep into her ass hole and she drove her finger into her cunt, feeling the slick feeling of her juices. Kim knew she had climaxed and ran her tongue from Kassidy's ass to her pussy and began to lap up the juice that had just been produced. Kassidy pushed her finger into Kim's mouth and she licked it clean, then worked her way back to Kassidy's ass, and went wild, spending the next five minutes eating deeply of her sister's ass hole. Finally she had her own orgasm, turned Kassidy over and sat fully on her face, covering her with her wet cunt, and she told her "Eat me little sister" and Kassidy began to lick Kim's cunt with a fervor Kim had not seen before, and she ground her cunt into her sister's face and came again. 

She swung her leg from her sister's head and they kissed each other, and held each other as they drifted off to sleep.

Kim woke in the morning and Kassidy was already up and walking around. Kim asked "How do you feel this morning, my love?"

Kassidy said, "It didn't hurt when I went to the bathroom this morning, and I can walk better. I think we'll go to mom's party this weekend. I look forward to fucking some of Johnny's old friends anyway. I remember some of them didn't look too bad, when they used to come visit us, and I'm really looking forward to it."

Kim said "Great Kass, I'm sure that ass of your's will get a workout this weekend then."

Recovery



Leaning over the body on the bed, I felt for a pulse. Acknowledging the thump-thump-thump against my fingers, I straightened.

"How long has she been unconscious?" I asked him.

"For about twenty minutes. How long does the drug last?" He questioned in return.

"She should be waking up in the next half hour, but she won't remember a thing in the morning." I replied.

He nodded his head, a smile forming on his lips. I could only imagine what was going through his mind. Shuddering, I wipe the thoughts away.

"Get her cleaned up, then get out of here, I will handle the rest." I ordered.

He mockingly saluted me and turned toward the sink. I walked out of the room and into my study, where I sunk into my overstuffed couch and got comfortable.

Lost in thought, I ran through the many options of how to work through my problem. I owed this girl, but was worried about the outcome if I followed through with the plan.

A moan from the other room jerked me from my daydream. I stood up, stretched my neck and arms, and walked back to her bound body.

She was looking frantically around the room, trying to figure out where she was at. She finally saw me, and attempted to yell, but her voice came out scratchy and muted.

"How are we feeling honey?" I crooned down to her, rubbing the back of my hand down the side of her face.

She made noises, pleaded with her eyes. I smiled down to her, lowering my head till my mouth rested against her ear.

"You are going to suffer tonight. In the morning, when you wake, the only evidence will be the mark you will carry in your mind. " I whispered.

Straightening again, I tucked her hair behind her ears, and peered down to her until she held the gaze and recognition passed across her features.

I wandered toward the front door, anticipating the knock that sounded moments later. I opened the door and let the gentleman in, admiring his form. He was delectable. I was briefly jealous of the bound female, wishing for a night alone with the gorgeous specimen.

His army fatigues fit snuggly across his ass, held his cock on loving display, and bunched at the top of his boots. The brilliant white v-neck t-shirt displayed his upper body perfectly.

"Explain things to me again. I want to make sure I fully understand." He spoke with authority.

"She is yours for the next four hours. You can express your love to her anyway you wish. Every word spoken and movement you make will leave an impression in her mind, but she will not remember the exact details. At the end of the four hours, you leave, and I will inject the second drug, she will lose consciousness again, and wake in two hours. She will be back in her bed and feel refreshed. The first interaction you have with her tomorrow will begin to trigger her confidence and she will instinctively act accordingly. She will no longer experience the fear and trepidation around men caused by her rape three years ago. Also, she will be able to move past that incident and heal emotionally." I explained.

He nodded his head in understanding and went into the room where she was lying. His eyes roamed over her body, his response immediately noticeable by the bulge forming in his pants.

He took one last glace at me, and then closed the door; the lock clicking into place.

He hesitantly walked toward her, unable to take his eyes from her naked form. She was so beautiful in his opinion, and he wanted to strangle the bastard that turned her into a scared, hidden women. She did not deserve the treatment she received at the bastard's hands, and he was grateful the guilty man was forever behind bars.

Stepping up next to the table that her body rested on, he guided his fingers along the length of her body; slowly dragging them across her skin until goose bumps arose. Her skin felt soft as he continued his ministrations, and was rewarded when she began to moan quietly.

He slid his hands under her back and legs, picked her up, and walked over to the king-size bed. He gently placed her in the center of the bed, arranging her limp limbs comfortably.

He yanked his shirt from the waistband of his pants and up over his head. He was impatient to feel her skin under his, but knew he had to move slowly so that the impression left in her mind did not damage her further.

He placed one foot on the edge of the bed and untied it, then slid it off. He repeated his movements with the other boot, and then unsnapped his pants. Glancing up at her face, he quickened when he realized that she was watching him. Not only that, but she seemed to be interested in his movements. He said a silent prayer that things would work out for the best and proceeded to unzip and remove his pants, pulling his socks off as well.

He walked to the foot of the bed and gently crawled on. He moved until he was between her legs, close to the junction of her thighs. Leaning back on his heels, he slid a hand up, over her stomach, and grasped her breast, lightly pinching the nipple. She immediately gasped, and he leaned over her body, placing his mouth on the other nipple. He took turns flicking his tongue and sucking soothingly on one nipple while moderately pinching and massaging the other. Her moans grew louder as she enjoyed his observant care. 

He felt awkward, unused to a companion not touching him in return. The hopeful outcome of the night was the only thing that pacified his mind.

He exchanged his mouth and hand, paying equal attention to both nipples. When she moaned again, he moved up to her neck. He kissed and flicked his tongue across to her shoulders, leaving no bit of skin untouched.

Moving agonizingly slow down her body, he worked his way over her breasts and to her ribs. Outlining each rib with his tongue, he lapped up the flavor of her skin, savoring every inch. Progressing further down to her stomach, he paid the same attention to detail.

He moved his knees down, bringing his mouth at level with her pussy. Angling her legs further apart, he could see a drop of fluid nestled between her lips, and he dipped his head down, licking the dew.

He used the tip of his tongue to lick in between her lips, drawing them open. Raising his hand, he moved the hood covering her clit back and began to rub it in circles with his thumb. Her moans grew louder as he slid his tongue inside her wet pussy, thrusting it in, fucking her with it. Her wetness soon flooded his mouth, and he leaned in further to suck every drop from her. He replaced his thumb with his tongue, taking her clit into his mouth and gently nibbling, sucking, and licking. Her moans turned to screams as she climaxed harshly, while her body stayed immobile. He cleaned her with his tongue, making sure not to miss any juice as it leaked from her pussy.

When she quieted back down, he grasped her legs and spread them further. Her pussy lips pulled apart and he could see the pink flesh inside. He ran a finger along the slit, back and forth. When his finger became slippery he slowly pushed it into her until it could go no further. The muscles around his finger clenched, startling him for an instant.

Slipping the finger out, he reentered her, setting a steady pace until his finger was thoroughly wet again. He added a finger and maintained the speed, moving in tune with the gripping muscles of her pussy.

She began to moan again, and he increased the tempo. He leaned down, sucked her clit into his mouth, and began thrusting his fingers inter her harder. She vocalized the orgasm as it ripped through her body, and he continued the motions, drawing a second orgasm from her rapidly. A third orgasm plunged through her immediately following the second, and he started to slow his movements, releasing her clit from his mouth in the process.

When his fingers were barely moving any longer, he pulled them from her pussy and licked them, enjoying the taste of her on his skin. He could hear her gasping for air, recovering from the onslaught of his attention.

Moving his body over hers, he leaned onto his elbows, placing his hands on either side of her face. Lowering his mouth, he gently nipped and kissed her lips, while sliding his hands into her hair.

When he felt he had her distracted, he plunged his raging hard cock into her, burying it completely inside. He paused, allowing her body to adjust to his thickness and length. As he felt the pressure surrounding his cock lessen, he started a slow pace, pulling his cock almost completely out, and then sliding his entire length back in. 

He focused his mind and tried desperately to control his movements, not wanting to come before he was sure he had left a complete impression in her mind.

He felt the muscles in her pussy flex, and began to thrust harder. The sounds escaping her mouth moved him quicker, and soon he was plundering her pussy with no control.

With one final thrust he moaned loudly, his voice mixing with her, his back clenched solid. He relaxed slowly, and pulled his partial hard cock from her pussy, causing her to moan in protest.

Crawling down the bed, he stood on shaky legs. Looking around the room, he found a soft towel, and moved to wet the edge of it in the sink. 

He cleaned her gently, being careful not to put too much pressure on her battered pussy. After he cleaned himself up, he put his clothes back on, and walked to the side of the bed.

He braced his hands on the bed, leaned over, and whispered in her ear, "You belong to me."

Standing up, he took one last lingering look at her body, then turned and walked to the door. He turned the lock, opened it, and continued on until he was outside the house. He looked up at the sky; noticed dawn was approaching, and walked down the sidewalk to his car. He needed to take a shower before he began his day.

I moved into the room, flipped open my cell and hit speed dial.

"She is ready to be transported home, be here in fifteen minutes." I said tersely.

I flipped my cell phone shut, pocketed it, and dressed her. Removing the cap from the syringe, I injected the last drug into her. Her eyes fluttered briefly, and then she was peaceful.

Yawning, she awoke slowly. Her muscles screamed as she slowly stretched out. Wearily climbing from her bed, she moved toward the bathroom, flipping the water on. She brushed her teeth as she waited for the water temperature to heat up, then stripped and climbed in under the harsh spray.

She washed her hair and body, stretching her muscles as she went. Turning the water off, she stepped out and wrapped her dripping body in a soft towel. She moved into her bedroom, walked to her closet, and examined her clothing. She pulled out what she wanted to wear, and quickly got dressed.

She became more focused on the thoughts spinning in her head. She thought about how her life had changed in the last three years, and decided that she was tired of being afraid. Smiling to herself, she grabbed her tennis shoes, pulled them on, and hurried toward her front door, grabbing her keys and purse on the way.

She ran down the stairs of her apartment building, across the parking lot and climbed into her car. Moving into traffic, she gradually made her way across town, and arrived in front at his house in less than ten minutes.

Taking a deep, cleansing breathe, she got out of her car, locked the doors, and walked up the path to his front door. Knocking hesitantly, she stepped back when he flung to door open. Half his face was covered in shaving cream and a towel was wrapped around his waist.

"Am I interrupting?" She asked shyly.

"No, no, come on in. I just got out of the shower and was shaving. Give me a minute to finish up and I'll throw some clothes on." He replied.

He sauntered into the bathroom and quickly finished shaving. After wiping his face clean, he walked from the bathroom to his bedroom. She was sitting on his bed, leaning back, resting on her arms.

He stopped, taking in the picture of her on his bed. He could feel his cock getting hard immediately. She glanced down, noticing his arousal, and pushed herself up to stand.

She strolled over to him, placed a hand on his chest and pulled his head down with the other. Their lips met and they kissed. He wrapped his arms around her, snuggling her into his embrace, and she moaned against his mouth.

He wrestled his mouth from hers, looked into her eyes, and seen the passion burning. Picking her up, he carried her to the bed. As he laid her down gently, he smiled at her and said, "It's about time."

She grinned back at him and pulled his mouth down for another long, hard kiss. 



Recovery



Even before my wife and I finally got married, we decided that it would be best to sleep in separate beds if one of us became sick, and after further discussion, we agreed that the sick person would sleep in the bed in the Master bedroom while the person who was actually well would sleep in the guest bedroom. After all, when one is sick, one receives a psychological boost from things and places which are familiar, including one's own bed. (As someone who has been sick at various times in several countries, I can definitely support that.) 

Of course, sickness is inevitable, no matter how well one takes care of one's health. And it was my turn to be sick. It began with a sore throat, and that evolved into laryngitis, and then I had a bout with the flu... and the flu inevitably won. 

I was definitely feeling miserable, although after having spent most of a day in bed sporadically sleeping, I was feeling a little better, but certainly far from well. While I cringed at the amount of work piling up on my desk at work which I would need to handle over the weekend instead of ensuring that I was truly well again, I heard a knock at the bedroom door. My first thought was that the Johns twins were coming to visit me after school, since they were effectively my "nieces" even though I shared no blood or marriage relationship with either of their parents. 

But then, to my surprise, my wife opened the door, slowly, her naked form gradually coming into view. 

"Just stay where you are, hon," she said softly. 

Then she really surprised me by mounting the bed, and only then did I get over the shock of her nudity in this situation to recognize that she had the flesh colored dildo in one hand. That certainly intrigued me, and when I parted my lips to vocalize my surprise, she gestured for me to be quiet and just lean back against the pillows. 

At the foot of the bed, she knelt, sitting back on her heels and spreading her knees fairly wide apart. The tiny narrow trimmed crescent moon shape of her natural red pubic hair was prominently on display above her sacred sex. The small barbells in her nipples seemed to make her breasts more prominent. 

I watched, transfixed, as she set the dildo down between her knees and began to gently rub between her thighs. As her free hand rose to begin fondling a breast, I began to feel a rise underneath the covers, but I was still in such surprise at this scenario that I barely noticed my own arousal. 

My wife performed for me with her eyes closed. As her arousal grew, as her womanhood moistened, her head tipped slowly backward and her lips parted while she began to pant, and I realized that, after my having been sick for over forty-eight hours at that point, given that we would typically engage in some type of sexual activity at least once each day, this performance was probably as much for her own carnal need as it was for inspiring me to get well faster. 

For a long time, she masturbated, sometimes with a hand working at her chest and sometimes with both hands working between her thighs. She masturbated slowly, gradually increasing her pleasure, her fragrant musk filling my nostrils and helping to further solidify my hardening erection. Thoughts of my illness faded away, and even my cough seemed to abate, in awe of the woman selflessly displaying herself before me. 

When she finally reached for the dildo, I was jealous, wishing the dildo was me -- wishing that I was well enough so that my wife would not need the dildo. My erection was definitely thick and long and nearly as hard as chiseled rock, and it was ready to plunge into her sweet, wet depths. Instead, I could only watch, my hand beginning to rub underneath the covers as my wife spread her own wetness all over the flesh colored dildo and readied it between her thighs. 

The entry was slow, but from the long, low, lusty moan she emitted, it was very fulfilling for her on levels beyond just the physical. She held it steady deep within her dripping portal, and then began to rub her clitoris once again. 

I knew what would happen. It has always been difficult for my wife to orgasm without penetration, and when she has something so deep inside her while her clitoris is pleasured, the orgasms tend to come fast and swift, sometimes one rolling directly into the next. 

Her voice announced the impending release first. Her cries were louder, breathier, needier. Then her body really became part of the show, bucking beneath her fingers and causing her breasts to shake nicely and her lengthy hair to sway seductively behind her. 

She slowly withdrew the dildo, then slammed it forcefully deep into her body, and that sudden motion triggered a strong, loud climax which made me swoon. But she did not stop there, recovering enough to piston the dildo within her, and soon a second orgasm was gloriously presented to me. 

And then she stopped, withdrawing the dildo completely and setting it aside before slowly crawling up the bed toward me and, despite my illness, collapsing in my arms as she floated in the post-orgasmic bliss she had not experienced for several days. 

Amazingly, my wife's performance was the cure I needed, for the recovery was faster than expected following her selfless display. Unfortunately, she is now sick in bed and has been for about thirty-six hours, so I will probably give her a similar show tonight.



Recovery



She was fine, godsdamnit. She punched the bag that swung in an arc from the ceiling. It was satisfying to punch the hell out of it. Sweat stung the new scars on her face. Scars that would never go away. Scars she didn't want to go away. She had earned every single damn one of them.

She was freaking fine. Why then... WHACK... wouldn't Garrus touch her? They were living together, here, at the apartment. But he had the room across the way. He claimed she needed time to recover her health. 

If he didn't get it in his head soon, she was going to remind him who was in charge around here...

"Good afternoon, General Vakarian," the AI installed in their apartment intoned the standard greeting.

"Where is Commander Shepard?" 

She swung at the bag. Irritated. 

"She is working out, General,"

Garrus leaned against the doorframe, watching Kaya beat the hell out of the worn leather bag that hung in the workout room. By the Spirits, the woman was sexy as hell. She had on this tight sleeveless tank that showed off arms that were curved with hard muscle and slick with sweat. She had long black pants that clung to her thighs then fell to the floor in soft folds. Her hair was scraped back off her face with a tie. 

"Feeling better, Shepard?"

Kaya slammed a fist into the leather again, and turned to face him. Anger was glimmering in her eyes.

"Uh oh," Garrus nearly took a step back, "What did I do?" He held up his hands, palms out in a gesture of peace.

"Nothing," she snapped with annoyance.

"Nothing?" he seemed relieved. Then paused. Frowned, "But you have a mad on. For me. If I didn't do anything..."

Kaya stripped off one glove and threw it at him. Startled, he missed the catch and it hit him in the chest.

"What..." he protested. And barely ducked the other one, "Shepard! What the hell?"

"Nothing is exactly the damn problem!" she growled, and crossed her arms over her chest, "If you want out of all this, Vakarian, you only have to say. We killed the Reapers, saved the day. Now we have to get back to normality. I'm rejoining N7 and the Spectres...you need to go rebuild Palaven."

Garrus fluttered his mandibles. And stepped into the room. His lean, muscular form was clad in a black formfitting tunic. His voice was very soft.

"Is that what you want, Shepard?"

"It's what is going to happen, right?" Shepard's knuckles whitened on her arms, "You have to pull away, I get it."

Garrus made a soft sound in his chest, "When you approached me on the Normandy, it took me a little while to understand. I'm not..the most clued in of turian's when it comes to matters of the heart."

He took another step forward until he stood almost toe to toe with her. She looked up at him, whole again, though her eyes were filled with shadows and sadness.

"But when we finally get it," he reached up with a talon and traced a line from her brow to her jawline to her chin, "It's forever."

Shepard was silent, uncertain.

"You have always been so confident, my love," Garrus continued, "Always the one with the right answer, the right thing to say. Now, it's my turn to give it a shot."

He took her hands in his own and she allowed it, unresisting, still watching him warily.

"You are my clan, Kaya Shepard. Without you, I am not Garrus Vakarian. Without me, you are not Kaya Shepard. There is no Vakarian without Shepard," he touched a hand to his heart, "You live here. All the time. I could travel to Palaven today, and tomorrow you resume your duties as Spectre and Alliance Commander. But at the centre of it, at the heart of it, it would not matter where you had to go..."

Garrus rested his forehead against her own.

"...you are in my heart. And that is all that matters."

There is silence. A long silence.

"Shepard?"

"Damn..." she murmured, her voice thick with tears. She crept her arms around his lean waist and stepped into his embrace.

Garrus enfolded her. His arms were long; though she was no tiny waif, he encircled her easily. 

They stood like that for many moments. Kaya recovering her equilibrium and Garrus, well he frankly looked smugly satisfied. She shifted in his arms a little until her head tucked under his chin. Her breath flowed across his neck and it raised a chill down his spine.

His right hand slid from her upper back to the hollow at the small of her back, while the left slid into her hair. He felt her lips press against the soft flesh of his throat, and he couldn't stop the shudder. A flicker of her tongue rose a growl from his lips and his hand slid further down to cup her backside and tug her a little closer. She uttered something that sounded like a sigh of pleasure and tucked her groin against his long, muscular thigh. Without armour, he could feel her heat, her arousal and groaned again.

Kaya slid her lips over his scarred mandible, licking the sensitive flesh. Her nimble fingers undid the closures on his formal tunic and slid within to explore the contours of his well muscled chest. His hand slid up under her tank and splayed against her sweaty flesh. Muscles rippled under his attention. She found his lips and though they were not mobile pillows of flesh, they still had a vast array of nerve endings that shot heat to his groin. She kissed him, and her tongue touched his own, just the lightest caress. And retreated. He firmed his grasp on her head and pulled her up again. She thrust her tongue into his mouth again this time his own tangled with hers. 

Her thigh made contact with the juncture of his groin as she ground against his leg and made a soft sound of desire against his lips. He was erect, solid and by the spirits, ready and able to connect with his woman again. 

She tugged at his tunic and awkwardly yanked it off. And he removed her tank in turn. Scars patterned her chest and shoulders. New scars. Still red and livid - but healed. He broke the kiss and ran his lips and tongue down her neck. She whimpered with desire and clutched his hips to keep her upright, before seeking the closure of his pants. He slid long fingers down her sides, his tongue laving first one nipple, then the other. His talons hooked the waistband of her pants and slid them down her long legs. The curls at the juncture of her thighs beckoned to him and he carefully slid one taloned finger into the folds. She rocked onto his hand, seeking friction, her nails digging into the plates on his shoulders.

He undid his pants with one hand and straightened. He slid his finger in and out of her building tension, while his other held her upright. Naked, he backed her the pace or two to the wall, and grasping her right leg, lifted it so he could move between her thighs. She rested against the cool surface, using the leverage to tilt her hips against him. 

He was heavy and hard, and when his length probed her she tilted her head back and breathed slowly, concentrating. He leaned forward and ran his tongue over her neck, caressing the soft flesh with the rough surface. She shuddered, and he felt her relax...and open. He slid home and had to pause before he came then and there. Breathing hard, he rested his brow on the cool tile of the wall. 

"Gods, Garrus," she panted, "I had forgotten..."

"I hadn't," he growled, and pressing her against the wall, he slowly thrust and she cried out with pleasure.

It was slow at first. It had been a while. But they remembered the moves. And as he drove into her, she could not stay her cries of pleasure. She clutched him and thrust back. 

"Oh Spirits, I cannot...I'm..." he groaned, sweat slicking them both together.

"Do it," Shepard spoke through gritted teeth, "Do it harder...I'm nearly there..."

"Aye aye, Commander," and set his cock to the task of pleasuring the woman before him. She slid a hand down to her groin and circled herself while he thrust, "That's it.." He murmured into her ear, "Next round, I want my tongue where your fingers are, circling, flicking. I have been told I have a very agile tongue."

Shepard's head fell back as she cried out her climax. He carefully tried to pull out, but she clutched her leg around him. "No," came the weak demand, "In me. Stay."

And he was undone. One more thrust into that glorious slick heat and he came. A lot. It had been a while. When he finally withdrew it dripped on the floor. She staggered, her knees giving way and he grabbed her in time.

"Wow," she wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her up into his arms, "Now that was worth waiting for."

Garrus laughed, the sound a sexy rumble in his chest, and his voice was affectionate, "You were worth the wait, Shepard."

"Now I think I need a shower."

"Your wish is my command," he looked down at her. And she smiled up at him.



Recovery



"Let me help you feel better."

"Huh? What do you mean, baby?"

"I know it's been a rough week, and that you're still stressed out." Here, she slipped a hand over his cheek, eyelids half-lowered. "Take that stress out on me. I can handle it."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

"Okay. Just let me know if I get too rough."

"Will do." Pause for a kiss. "Now...what do you want to do tonight?"

"You." Sexy growl. "Over, and over, and over again. I want to explore you, feel you respond, here you begging me for more. Starting right now." 

In a swift motion he removed her tanktop and pulled her hair out of its ponytail. A little blush, a small smile. No reluctance. No move to cover up. He licked his lips, then pulled her closer. One hand remained n her waist while the other slipped downward. Stealthy fingers roamed under her shorts, exploring the sweet secret he felt privileged to know. Soft, warm. Slick already, the little lips already wet with anticipation and arousal. His index finger teased over her clit, treating the sensitive nub to tantalizing strokes that made her writhe in his arms.

"Unh!"

"Feel good?"

"Mn-hn.."

"You're gonna love this, then..."

Without further explanation he plunged two fingers deep into her, thrusting hungrily. She cried out, wriggling, writhing, rubbing against him.

"M...more. Please."

"As you wish." He nibbled her ear. His fingers sped up, thumb somehow managing to stroke her amidst the frenzy. "You're so close, baby..."

Indeed she was. His motions changed, fingers stroking in a way he knew would bring her over the edge. She came almost violently. Body trembling, breathing in harsh gasps. He held her close, treating her to kisses and little affectionate whispers until the storm subsided.

"Ready for bed?"

"M-hm. Not really sleepy, though." 

"I think we both know sleep's not on the immediate agenda."

Her response was a sweet, undeniably sexy giggle.

After he carried her to bed she surprised him by making the first move. She scooted closer and got to work on unbuttoning his pants. No objections were raised. His dick, on the other hand....well, that wasn't really helped by the way she stroked over the front of his briefs.

"May I pleasure you? Please?"

"Yes." Another growl. This one turned into a pleased sigh-purr as she relieved him of underwear. The motion was accompanied with feather-soft strokes and kisses down his legs. She stroked his shaft slowly at first. He made another purring sound. One of his hands traced around her shoulder and back before tangling into her hair. Another stroke was paired with a lick from hilt to tip.

"Mmmmm. Damn, girl..." Free hand ruffling his hair, head tilted back in absolute ecstasy. She took this as motivation. Her own hands focused on stroking and pumping. At the same time, she kissed and licked the head of his dick. Slowly, surely, he began moving in time with her strokes.

"You're leaking, sweetie..." A flick of her tongue took care of that immediate problem, but started another. He wanted to come, to cover her in his release. Even more, though, he wanted to lose himself inside her. That desire won out.

"S...stop." She complied, one eyebrow quirked.

"Somethin' wrong?"

"Y-yeah. I'm not deep inside you yet, and I need to be." As he spoke he tugged her shorts down, then gently helped her lay back.

"Ohh...!!!" He slipped into her, turning her response into a sweet sigh. "That's...mnnn...definitely an improvement."

"Agreed..."

He nibbled her bottom lip and started moving inside her. Slick, delicious friction, paired with her sighs and other sounds, motivated him. He forgot about stress, work, everything but how good it felt, how damn perfect it felt, to be fucking his incredible woman.

Until that incredible woman pulled his hair. Not a lover's tug, but a "hey, I need your attention" pull. He froze.

"What's wrong?"

"Too much. You..you were hurting me."

"Oh..shit...sorry, baby." His thrusts resumed at a considerably, considerately, slower pace. "Better?"

"Mmhm. Much." Deep kiss. His hand moved to her ass, grabbing for momentum. 

"Mnh...so close..."

"Good..Come for me..." Her voice was low, words accompanied by an ear nibble. Motivation. He came with a grunt that quickly transformed into a harsh profanity. 

Afterwards, laying together, he couldn't help noticing her expression. Hints of frown played at her eyes and mouth.

"Sorry about earlier."

"Forget it, alright...?"

"Okay. I'll forget it...if you let me make it up to you." He took her hand. Kissed her fingers. "Let me help you feel good now. Let me kiss you...touch you...taste you...all over." 

His words made her blush.

"Deal..."

*With that he started kissing her. Mouth. Cheek. Jawline. Neck. Collarbone. His hands roamed to her chest, kneading and caressing. Thumbs brushed over nipples, eliciting a gasp in response. She tangled both hands into his hair, arching her back to allow him better access. Gently, so gently, he pushed her breasts together then flicked his tongue against the swell of cleavage. Kisses and licks paired with gentle pinches and strokes brought out a moan, a sound that was music to his ears. She slipped a hand from his hair, relocating to stroke a certain sweet spot between her legs.

"Stop that. Move your hand."

"Huh? Why?"

"I want to be the one working you up tonight. Playing with yourself detracts from that. Now stop. Please?"

"Okay...but...only if your tongue replaces my finger."

"Oh, trust me, baby. It will, in due time. You know I can't resist a taste of my favorite treat."

He took his time. His hands remained on her boobs at first while his mouth traveled downward. Tender, reverent, loving kisses peppered her tummy. He brought both hands down, letting his fingers trace over the silvery little stretch marks there.

She exhaled, a clearly happy little sigh that warmed his heart and made him smile. He looked up...and was elated to see her smiling back at him. 

"I feel like I haven't said this enough this week, but...I love you."

"It's alright. You've had a lot on your mind lately." She quirked her head and stroked his hair. "I love you too, by the way. Always."

"Definitely always." 

*He took her free hand and gently kissed her fingers. "May I hold your hand?"

"Y-you mean while you're getting...ahm...cunning with your tongue...?"

"That's exactly what I mean. I know how you like my tongue, baby." Here he wiggled his eyebrows and flicked that same tongue against her tummy. Her response was a shiver and a giggle.

"Go ahead. Hold my hand. That talented tongue of yours needs to go lower, though."

"Really. How low are we talking? Like, knees?"

He ran his hand over her knee for emphasis. Another giggle.

"No, silly. A little higher than that."

"Oh, okay. Thighs then." No hesitation. He licked her inner thigh, sending a chill down her spine.

"Ooooh. Warmer." 

"That's the idea. I want to warm you up, make you hot, set you on fire, and make you melt." 

He kept playing, kept teasing by touching, kissing, stroking her inner thighs. There was something sexy about her legs, especially considering those legs shared proximity with a delicious little kitty. The thought, paired with the scent of glorious, growing arousal, sent blood rushing straight to his dick. 

"Sweetie?"

"'Baby?"

"Are you gonna eat me out or not?"

"In due time." He grinned and let his fingers trace over the soft, swollen lips. She exhaled, shifting into his touch.

"C...can in due time be, umm...soon...?"

"Maybe." His grin widened. 

"P...please?" Begging? Damn. Another rush of blood.

"Nope."

"W...what?" 

"Not soon. Now." He parted her lips. Paused. Blew a warm, gentle breath into her glistening pink skin. She shivered, then shifted her leg to allow better access. He flicked his tongue against her, circling over but not yet touching clit or hole. 

Slow. Subtle. Sensual. His tongue traced and stroked over her clit at first, while one daring finger explored her again. The sexy little whimpers she let out, paired with hand squeezing and hair ruffling, pushed him, motivated him to keep going.

So warm, so sweet... He shifted a little, just enough to slip his tongue into her. Sharp exhale, squirm. He held her still, or as still as the situation allowed, then continued exploring. Savoring. 

"Damn...."

"Hmmm?"

"I can taste...us. And we're damn delicious, baby." Flick.

"Ohh, really..." She tightened deliberately around his tongue. "I want a taste."

"My pleasure. Well...ours..." Soft, definitely sexy chuckle. In the space of maybe a couple heartbeats they were face-to-face, nose-to-nose. She giggled, daring to nibble on his bottom lip. The sparkle in his eyes intensified. He whispered "C'mere, you..." before pulling her into a deep, delicious kiss. His tongue flicked against hers. She leaned into it, angling her hips against his, letting out a sweet, certainly aroused sigh.

"Hey.."

"Yes, beautiful?"

"There's, uhm, something I want to try. If you're interested, that is." No verbal response. The squeeze of his hand prompted her to go on. "I...want to finish what we started...except I want to be on top."

"Face-sitting, huh? That sounds hot."

"R..r..really?"

"You bet. I've always wanted to try getting face fucked by my sexy cowgirl." As he spoke he repositioned. Lay back on the bed, head cushioned by pillows. He gestured for her to sit. She complied, long legs straddling strong shoulders. 

"Okay...um...now what?"

"Relax. Go with the flow. Have fun. Enjoy yourself. I, for one, plan on enjoying you very, very thoroughly." To emphasize, that total tease of a man parted her lips and stroked his tongue over her clit. Her response was damn near instantaneous. She thrust her hips against his mouth and let out a moan that sounded a lot like his name.

"Good girl...." Just above a whisper. "You like this, huh?"

"Mmm...mmmm-hn. More, please?" 

One gentle flick had her begging. Damn. Not bad. Not bad at all.

"You bet, baby." Taking her vocalizations as cues he continued, working her into a frenzy in what seemed like record time. Her breath was harsh, breasts heaving, fingers grasping his in a death grip. Carefully, knowing how close she had to be, he nibbled her sweet spot, somehow managing to suckle her at the same time. 

"Mnnnnh!" 'Intense' was an understatement. It took all of her willpower not to scream his name at the top of her lungs in the sweet throes of orgasm. Instead, she whispered, the softly uttered syllables melting his heart. 

*"C'mere..."He pulled her into his arms. Cupped her cheek in his hand. Kissed her. "How was that?"

"Amazing." Happy sigh, eyes positively sparkling. "We're not done yet, though."

"Oh, really? What makes you say that?"

"I can...kind of feel your dick against my leg. Pretty impressive." Giggle. "Besides, I...thiiiink I can handle one more round. How 'bout you?"

"Definitely, baby." Now his eyes were sparkling along with hers. He moved to switch their positions. She stopped him. Pushed him down, holding him on his back with one hand. Grinned. Wiggled a finger at him. 

"Nuh-uh. You're staying exactly where you are, mister." Comprehension widened his eyes, brightened his smile. 

"Holy shit. You're serious."

"Very. This cowgirl wants to ride her stallion. Now, saddle up, big boy." She tossed him a condom. Watched with interest as strong hands slipped it down his length. His fingers trembled a little, just a little. Just enough for her to notice. She touched her hand to his. Smiled.

"Anxious?"

"You know it."

"Good." Hand kiss. "Let's not postpone the inevitable any longer, then." She didn't even give him time to reply, letting out a lusty sigh as throbbing cock met slick cunt. He closed his eyes. Bit his lip. Hands slipped down to her ass, pinching and squeezing the soft skin. 

Once she started moving, the universe could have exploded and neither would have noticed. All that mattered was the delectable sensations, the sweet friction they shared. 

"Mmm. Fuck..." His abs flexed. The motion felt like a situp. A sexy situp. Pure, wild impulse took over. He swatted his hand against her bare skin. Another immediate reaction: a chill down her spine. A soft, definitely audible "Oh!" Increased arousal was evident in warmth, wetness, and the way she tightened around his shaft mid-pump.

"Someone likes playing rough..." He spanked her ass again. By now she was so wet, so slick, it was like her pussy was drooling. 

"Yesss." Exhale. "You...You're driving me wild..."

"I can tell. You're not exactly unresponsive. Now...lean forward. Let me kiss you." 

"Yes, sir..." Carefully, gently, she did what she was told. He cupped her cheek, pulling her into a kiss that sent already intense passion into overdrive. "S...sweetie?"

"Y..yeah?"

"I...I love you..."

"Love you too, baby. Always..." Fingers traced her jawline while he nibbled her bottom lip. Soft sigh as she clenched around him again. So close...he pulled her into another kiss. In the space of a couple heartbeats he heard the telltale little sigh against his mouth, felt her tremble and tighten around him, nails digging into his skin. He looked into her eyes and saw a beautiful glow, the look of pure love. She smiled. 

"Y...your turn. Don't hold back on me now, sweetie." She ruffled his hair, kissed his forehead. Motivation. His tummy flexed again as he moved with her, using the edge of her climax to fuel his own. 

"Nnnh!" Damn near violent. Definitely satisfying. Completely sated, he fell back into the pile of pillows. Eyes closed. Breathing still ragged. Big smile. She dismounted. Discarded the condom. Then curled up into his arms, kissed his cheek, tracing fingers over his skin. 

"Feeling better?"

"Feeling perfect..." Arms curled around her. He smiled, then treated her to a kiss that showed her exactly how he felt.



Recovery Mission



First, there was the woodland trail, and birds singing in every tree. Jillian felt the dirt of the path between her toes, and her father's hand was warm in her own, large and calloused; comfortably, protectively cradling her small fingers.

'Daddy, where is the witch's house? Can we see the gingerbread on it?'

'Honey-sweet, it's just a little ways further on, just around that bend up there, do you see it?'

Jillian peered ahead into the dark green gloom. 'Sure, daddy?'

'I'm sure, honey. It's your birthday, so we're going to eat gingerbread. Let's go find it, okay?' And with that he swung her laughing hysterically up onto his shoulders. Her father strode down the path, strong, young and confident, carrying his daughter effortlessly. The summer woods all around were silent and still.

They came to a clearing, and there, just as her father had promised, was the gingerbread house. Maybe it was a bit smaller than the fairy story had said, and no witch was to be seen, but it was gingerbread, with icing and candy shutters and cookie shingles and marzipan doors, and her mommy was there, and her little sister too, all standing around the miniature house. 

'Happy Birthday, sweetheart', said her father as he swung her down. Jillian ran across the soft grass toward the house. 'Daddy, it's just like the fairy story, isn't it?' 'Didn't I say so, darling?' he replied. 'Oh, yes Daddy, it's bootiful!' He smiled and knelt down, and her mother knelt on her other side. 

'Happy Birthday to you, 
Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday...'

The sky flamed. The long shadows under the trees vanished in a glare of hot yellow, blink-blink, and her mother screamed, throwing her arms around Jillian. Her daddy yelled in surprise, and with a force she'd never known before he threw his wife and Jillian down onto the cool, aromatic earth, shielding them with his body. The ground began to dance, and through the woodland came the satanic roar, and the trees whipped insanely, and the sky burned, and the shards of gingerbread bounced wildly on the rolling ground.

___________________

She awakened. That fucking day, she thought. All gone in a day. God. Slowly her trembling eased. It was twenty years ago, and now she came out of sleep in this year of grace 2096. Twenty years since the world ended. She hadn't known then that the madmen across the sea would decide to trigger their long-hidden hellbombs, each secreted away in an American city; nor had she known of the response which had devastated the greater part of two other continents. All she had known was that her gingerbread house had died, and when the ground stopped shaking her mother had lain still, eyes open, head lolling oddly, and her father, face graven of stone, had wept and wept beside her, and her young sister had never moved, not at all, even though her eyes were closed as if she slept, covered by the massive tree limb which has smashed her down.. At last, her father had gathered young Jillian to him, saying never a word, and walked through the shattered wood toward their home. Far away, on the orange horizon, flames had leapt. 

Her father had survived, long enough to walk and walk and walk from their home, with a rucksack on his back carrying compressed food and Jillian on his shoulders, far away and far away, to his friends in the country—'business friends', he called them—who took him and her in. He had died soon after, worn out by grief and exhaustion. After that the bad years started, when the weather was strange, and crops would not grow, and her new 'Aunt and Uncle' looked anxiously out whenever the winds were in the west, from where the city had once been. As Jillian grew older, she began to hear the stories: entire populations starved in the surviving cities; strange cancers afflicting young and old alike; monstrous births which lived a matter of days or hours, mercifully. The invisible death lay on the land, altering genes, warping bodies, affecting minds.

By the time she was twenty, the world before her birthday was a fading dream of peace and plenty and love. Her rural district had escaped the worst effects, and in time her foster aunt and uncle sent her to learn. 'Learn all you can', they said. 'It's all we have left. If humanity is going to survive, we must preserve the knowledge, and we must find a way to overcome this curse'. 

So Jillian learned. She learned in the primary school, and in the high school, taught by volunteers. She attended the local agricultural college where aging chemicals lurked in slowly rusting containers. She learned genetics. She learned agronomy. She learned how the radiation had created a deadly legacy that outlived the blasts. She learned, while one by one the hydrogen-powered autos stopped working, and the electric grid became ever less reliable.

And then, one day, two years ago, the survey team had come to the district. For long years communication with the outside world had been restricted to occasional, precious forays made by hydrogen-powered cars, but as the means to make more pure hydrogen failed, the cars sat idle. Lately they'd used horses—right back to the 19th century, she thought bitterly. But then the newcomers had arrived, in a hoverplane of all things, descending from the heavens like gods, broadcasting their advent via shortwave, and landing outside Brentley, the largest remaining village in the area.

What a day that had been. Five men and women had climbed out of the plane's hatch, each neatly dressed in zipsuits, each bearing a patch emblazoned 'United States'—a name of nearly mythic significance. The old men had wept, the young had stared blankly. They were polite enough, though very formal. The team needed no provision; indeed, they shared what they brought—compressed, self-heating foods not seen for two decades. And they asked questions: who ruled the district? What was the population now? Five years ago? Ten? Twenty? Were there any records of local radiation levels? How many stillbirths in the last year? Were the men fertile? The women? With each pessimistic answer the extent of the catastrophe was borne in on the assembled locals. Young Tom over by Fairlee, he was known because he could sire children, and him only eighteen, but almost no other young men could. And the children: well, sir, the young ones, born after The Day, they were often, well...something was wrong. You just knew those that weren't going to be okay. Will Sanford, he had no immune system, and he lived about five days; and there was little Caren, who grew up, but she had no intelligence at all, and just stared vacantly. And there were Bill Owens' boys, one born without arms, the other seemed to be fine, but he went completely insane when he was ten and had finally thrown himself into the river and died. And the dreary litany went on, and the neatly dressed men and women took notes, speaking quietly into their recording equipment.

On the last day, the survey team had asked the village headman if he knew of any 'capable, intelligent' young men or women who might want to help in the work of recovery. Jillian was called in from her work at the college and offered the opportunity to leave with the team.

'It's important work, Miss Camacho', the team leader said. 'We're trying to stitch society back together. Nothing less. And we see this same pattern over and over: falling populations, technology loss, resource depletion. Within twenty years your home district will be back to the days of plagues and witchcraft. We're trying to stop the decay, and you have a decent background in genetics. We NEED people like you to help us help everyone else. 

'We can give you more education, and the chance to make a difference. What we manage to achieve will be spread by teams like ours across the old territories of the United States. Maybe—if we're lucky—we'll build a better society. But we need everyone we can get, now. The US had 350 million people before the attack. We had 190 million after. A year later, it was down to 40 million. Five years, down to 10 million. We now estimate that, what with lack of medicine, mutational disorders, infertility, and the like, we'll have fewer than six million, and still not stable, within another two years. And to be blunt, the rest of the world is no better off.'

She took the offer. 

Jillian lay in her bed, listening to the soft susurration of the blowers, recovering from her recurring nightmare. Here, in the heart of the Vasquez Genetic Research Center she was at home, and it had been so for two years. Good food, and plenty of it; educated, intelligent, committed coworkers; and a view of the world much larger than anything she'd known at home. Here, at least, technological civilization continued. When she'd arrived she'd been surprised by the smallness of the facility—perhaps 100 souls labored here, trying desperately to undo the damage wrought by the deadly dust. She'd been assigned to a team whose sole role had been to research therapies that might repair the gaps and tears in the double helix. They possessed enormous resources: the accumulated knowledge of two centuries lay in the reclaimed data cores; and the computers were very nearly sentient in their own right. Yeah, the wisdom of the ancestors, she thought bitterly. We're feeding on it like parasites, hardly knowing what they achieved, or how, just praying that the datasets will provide an answer if we play with them in the right way. Parasites. And she turned, and slept, in this year 2096.

Jillian was awake early the next day; she always arose early, as if to make the most of what time there was—and time was growing short indeed. Though radiation levels had steadily decreased, the population was decreasing too, victim to ancient diseases and famine. Step on a rusty nail, and die. Catch a bad cold, and live in fear that you might take to bed, never to leave it again. If the insects ate your silage, you might have no fodder for your cows. It was becoming 'positively medieval out there', as Lucy, her team leader, once said in bitter frustration.

The research establishment was divided into two groups. One, the Alternative Strategies team, led a rather secluded, secretive existence to one side of the fenced compound out in the Arizona desert. The other, Genetic Remediation, was Jillian's group. Their assigned task was to collate data—human genome data—from the salvaged datacomps removed, often at great risk, from the wrecked universities. Some—much—of the data was hopelessly garbled by gamma radiation; others had to be painfully pieced together. It was like working a jigsaw puzzle whose pieces were scattered throughout the countryside. What data was successfully collated was copied to the A/S group for further study, and Jillian's team attempted to use it to work on therapies which might repair the torn strands and skeins of the population's genes. Much had been done prewar in the field of recombinants; some had been salvaged. Of that data, all had been copied to the A/S group, whose members' evasiveness and aloof behaviour made them generally unpopular. 

Another morning in the communal refectory; if nothing else, the teams ate well. Probably some foodprep robots were salvaged, she thought. Wonder how long before they die too? Ron sat at the next table. Ron, the assured. Ron the arrogant. Ron the ass. Jillian despised him: Ron was fit, athletic, self-assured, and effortless in his offhand put-downs. He caught her glance, raised his coffee cup in ironic greeting, and went back to his reports, for all the world as if she didn't exist.

Jack at least was nice; she gathered he'd lost his beloved to some illness a few years back. He never said much; a self-contained strength lay within him, though. They worked together on the sequencing, trying to make sense of the old data. As if the thought called the man, Jack sat down opposite her. 'Morning, Jack'.

'Hi, Jillian. What's new today?'

'Nothing, really. Another fun day, huh?'

'Yeah, well, I'll be in the trenches with you, Jillian. Um, look, later on I'm going to go out to the desert, you know, just to hike. Got to clear my head, you see'. He smiled uncertainly. 'So I was wondering if you'd like to come with, if you aren't busy?' 

She smiled. 'Yes, I'll come. Where to?'

'Just about five miles out to those cliffs up north. I think they may have some old Amerindian dwellings, and it's kind of a hobby. Weird, huh? Not very useful these days.'

'It's not weird at all. Say about four? We should have enough light 'til nine or so at this time of year; maybe two hours out, two back, and an hour there.'

The hike was pleasant; Jack liked her, that was plain. He looked at her with pleasure. Not much to see, anyway. I'm skinny as a rail, black hair, I look like some wild Indian woman. Once or twice she caught herself admiring his easy stride and unflappable approach to all obstacles.

When they returned, he stood close to her in the desert twilight. 'Thank you for coming, Jillian. Nobody has wanted to, before.' Quickly, shyly, he kissed her on the cheek, blushed, and hurried off. She stood looking after him. I like you too, Jack. A lot. You're like—well, like my dad the way I remember him.

The next day, the one which changed her life, started out routinely enough. At breakfast, Ron came over to her. 'Hiya, Jilly', he said. 'Listen, Dr. Lai, our director, asked me to ask you to come see her today, around 1:30. Can do?'

'Uh, yeah, sure. Why?'

'Oh, if I told you it'd be no secret, and 'sides, then I'd have to kill you.' He laughed madly. Nutcase, she decided.

After lunch she walked across the compound to the A/S complex, a set of low white adobe-cladded buildings which housed the personnel, research labs, and offices. She was directed to Lai's office, a plain affair containing only a Spartan desk, a handcomp and monitor, a diploma from some long-vaporized university, and a few books, of all things. Perhaps she liked antiques?

Lai stood. 'Jillian Camacho? Karen Lai. Thank you for coming; please, sit down.

'Did Ron say anything? No? Good. Well, let me keep this short. As you know, our teams are trying to find ways to remedy the drastic damage done to the gene pool. Without some cure, we'll see the proportion of healthy adults continue to decrease, and as the population dies off, the ability to maintain a technic civilization will diminish. We estimate, absent intervention, that the tip-over may be as little as two to five years away. In that space, we must somehow create a healthy gene pool, so that in 15 to twenty years we have a post-war generation of fully healthy young adults. We will still be around to teach them, but we cannot wait too much longer, or the last pre-war survivors will be dying too fast to pass on our knowledge to any new generation.'

She flicked her hand at the comp, which lit up obediently. 'This is a graph of current trends'—pointing to an amber line which angled sharply down, then stabilized almost at the graph's bottom—'this is if your group finds a cure in the next five years'—the blue line was nearly the same as the amber. 'And this is what we've been working on'. A red population line that dipped, stabilized in five years, and began to climb again—steeply.

'Your team has been trying to sequence the human genome so we can study it and find possible gene replacement strategies. Frankly, progress is a lot slower than we'd hoped. Don't be defensive; this is simple fact, no reflection on your group. We cannot wait another 10 years hoping for a breakthrough. Too much research yet to do.

'Our group has been using what data you have sent us, along with gene modification work done pre-war, to come up with what we think is a viable alternative...'

REPORT SUMMARY, ALTERNATIVE STRATEGIES RESEARCH GROUP, 12 NOVEMBER 2096

Vasquez' initial goal was to find some means to repair the genetic damage within the larger US population. To that end we have been given priority of materiel and personnel by what remains of the US government and local entities. We regret to say that this strategy, while promising in the long term, will not meet its targets. We possess too little coherent data and lack the necessary expertise to engineer pan-specific cures. Moreover, even when the genome is fully identified once more, we expect curative research to occupy several more years.

To address this scenario, the Alternative Strategies team was founded. This team, working with available data and utilizing pre-war research into radical genetic modification, notably those used to cure genetic maladies such as cystic fibrosis, eg, has proposed a second solution. Rather than relying on possible cures for the existing genetic structure, this team proposes to use healthy genes as a template, to modify the gene carriers to be able to quickly replicate their genes, and thus to create a viable healthy population. In summary, rather than curing the sick, we propose to use nature's own resources—a healthy gene pool—by modifying select characteristics in the healthy twenty percent of the populace to achieve a higher reproductive rate.

'So you want, um, any healthy women and men to, well, get laid a lot and have a lot of kids? It sounds fun, I suppose, but...'

'Yes, sort of, Jillian. But just getting unaffected men and women together won't do it. Population will continue to drop, rapidly. Think of it: successful pregnancy requires a man and a woman who are attracted to each other, and the characteristics which create attraction are incredibly complex. You might like one man, and another woman dislikes him. Much of it is based on biochemistry.

'Moreover, you have to like each other enough to want to sleep together. Then, you have to do so often enough that you become pregnant, assuming that you WANT to become pregnant. And in this world of ours, overall health is not always optimal for ensuring successful pregnancy, either. Meantime, assuming that one male makes on female pregnant, our social mores are such that she won't want him off impregnating other women. And so on. Basically, all these factors put a hard brake on any chance of 'sleeping together' being the solution.'

'What, then?'

'We propose something different...'

APPENDIX C: PROPOSAL, ALTERNATIVE STRATEGIES GROUP, KAREN E. LAI, MD.

...this strategy would require use of undamaged volunteers to test those genetic and psychological modifications we have settled upon. The full programme is expected to require approximately two weeks, during which trial period the subject would be provided a daily oral dosing of targeted genetic modification agents. It is expected that the subject would initially feel some flu-like symptoms as his/her body acclimatized to a group of radically different gene structures, but that this would disappear as the body assimilated to and was modified by those structures. Each such agent would target specific genetic sequences and modify them to create a new organism capable of rapid, successful reproduction. Such changes, in metabolism, endocrine, immune, respiratory, pheromonal, and above all reproductive systems would require high caloric intake, a carefully monitored environment, and daily adjustment of targeted doses. The conversion is designed to be quick, for ease in administration in the field to targeted healthy individuals. Key areas would include in both sexes:

Higher oxygen uptake, providing rapid metabolic usage of calories for both the conversion process and for prolonged sexual activity afterward. The subject would experience this as a feeling of well being.

Significant strengthening of key muscle groups and organs, specifically the cluster of pelvic muscles, vaginal/penile support, etc. 

Modification to blood chemicals to dramatically enhance arousal states and shorten arousal time. Target would be to create in female subject a susceptibility to arousal by mere proximity to a modified male, while feeling no arousal around unmodified males (to avoid impregnation by genetically-damaged individuals). The same would of course be true of modified males.




Recovery Mission



Re-activation of the pheromonal system, which is moribund in humans. This, too, would result in greater, more frequent arousal and most likely would act to suppress any inhibitions.

Targeted modification to suppress overall inhibitory mechanism. We anticipate that this would result in subject losing conscious control or direction of his/her activities prior to mating, leading to spontaneous breeding activity.

Greatly increased sensitivity in vagina, labia, penis, breasts (both sexes) face, lips, throat, neck, and stomach. Increased sensitivity in other areas of body.

Rapid replenishment of semen in males by greatly accelerated production; this would target the male testes. 

Negligible refraction times in male and female, both by strengthening physical and chemical response and by strengthening muscles and organs. Modelling indicates that in males it is possible to reduce refraction period to practically nil; the rapid generation of semen would leave the male physically exhausted afterward and in need of fluid replenishment, eg water.

Modification of overt sexual attributes: in men, somewhat greater penile size in order to provide further pleasure to their partners and themselves; in women, growth of breasts to provide, primarily, adequate milk to their offspring and, during mating, pleasure to themselves and their partners. Increased body fat on female's hips buttocks, to provide energy reserves for healthy pregnancy. The 'hourglass' look, or that of a well-toned, fit gymnast is the goal.

Multiple, highly intense orgasm. This provides a strong incentive in both sexes to mate regularly and for prolonged periods, optimizing chances of impregnation. Estimated orgasmic response should be somewhere around 350% that of unmodified human norms.

In summary, by a careful, well-planned targeting of key systems, we hope to modify healthy human stock to mate often, without fear or modesty, with multiple partners, without conscious volition. The mere presence of a modified member of the opposite sex, assuming both are not recently mated, should be enough to trigger a constellation of reactions leading to intense, prolonged and repeated mating activity.

'...and that's it. We propose to create a human type which is optimal for rapid production of a healthy next generation'.

Fear grew in her. 'Why did you want to speak to me?'

'You are genetically healthy, Jillian. We need a volunteer for the process. Mind, it's reversible and painless.'

'But...'

'The subject would be treated to the various modifications, which take about two weeks. We'd then run some response tests in a controlled setting, obtain the results, then reverse the process. That's it.'

'This is too much. I mean, I'm the wrong girl for this. I don't even like taking off my clothes to take a shower when others are around, you know? I'm shy, and always have been.'

'Yes, I know, Jillian. The whole thing is private—you and two attending medicos, that's it, throughout the conversion process.'

They talked; about the world, about the chances for species survival, about Jillian's young childhood. They talked. At the end of it Jillian promised to return next day with her answer.

'I need to speak to someone, too'.

'Jack, you mean? Fine—but you cannot tell him about the project.'

'But if I accept, he'll wonder where I've gone'.

'If you accept, tell him you'll be away on detached assignment for about three weeks'.

That day she and Jack talked.

'Do you think we have a chance, Jack?'

'Us, or the world?'

'The world. People.'

'I don't know. I don't. I think that if things continue as they have, we're washed up. We're in a losing race right now.' He looked away, toward the hills. 'We'll end up with a medieval society which has lost all we've spent centuries to gain; they'll be hiding in their huts whenever a thunderstorm comes'.

'If there's another way, should we take it?'

'Yes, of course. IS there another way?'

'I don't know. But Jack, I've been offered some...detached duty for a few weeks on a project. I can't discuss it, but I think I'll take it.'

'I'll miss you, you know. Will you see me as soon as you come back? I—well, I'm falling in love with you. I didn't think that, after my fiancé died, that I ever could again.'

She kissed him.

That afternoon she returned to Lai's office.

'I'll do it if you can answer some questions. First, does this hurt?'

'No; we expect some aspects to be very pleasant.'

'Is it reversible?'

'Yes; in part. You will experience some outward changes, such as larger breasts, that cannot be reversed.'

'Larger? Like how?'

'The aim is to create a female who can healthily carry a pregnancy to term and provide sustenance afterward. Breast size would vary from person to person, but somewhere around 34 to 38, I'd guess. Hips increase, too—roughly 35-37.'

'And it won't hurt?'

Lai smiled faintly. 'No; for the first day or two you might feel a bit under the weather as your body adjusted to some radical genetic changes; after that you would feel very well, in fact'.

'Okay; I'll do it. I don't see any other options left. Do you?'

'No. None at all.'

'I'm scared to death, but I'll do it. When does this start?'

'Let's start now, Jillian'. Lai rose and walked down the corridor. At its end was a door, an airlock actually. She tapped a passcode, and the door swung open. Beyond was another corridor. To one side was a darkened room containing multiple holocomps. A technician sat before one, using small hand movements to control some unknown process.

They passed through another lock. 'Here's where you'll live; quite nice, really', Lai said. 'Kitchen/dining, a nice bedroom, entertainment area, shower and bath.'

'No windows, though'.

'No windows. This is a secure facility.'

At the other end of the living area was a third lock. This one was open. They walked through and were greeted by two medicos; the taller was even thinner than Jillian and perhaps the same age. 'Jillian, this is Dr. Mary Wilson'—that was the taller—'Dr. Elizabeth Swinley. They'll oversee everything. I'll leave now, but I'll see you after, okay? Thank you again. This should give us invaluable data.' She smiled briefly, nodded perfunctorily, and left.

'Jillian?' Wilson spoke. 'Could you come this way, please?' She led them into a small exam room: table, some autodoc equipment, and a chair. 'Please remove your clothes and sit on the table.'

Jillian felt her customary shyness. Oh, for heaven's sake, they're doctors. She took off her tunic, then her trousers. 'Bra and panties too, please'. She slipped out of her bra. Not much to see here anyway, she thought. 32Bs. Too much hard living and not good enough genes. Hmph. She removed her panties. Even my hips are nearly like a man's. That's what hard living, not enough food, and...bad genes...get you.

She sat. 'Close your eyes, please'. She heard a hum from the nearby equipment and felt the faintest tingling. A deep-scan, I imagine. They're getting all my biometric data. A minute passed. 'All done', Wilson said. 

Jillian opened her eyes and looked at the wall mirror across from the table. She saw a 29-year old woman, middle height, slim—too slim, she thought—jet black hair, straight nose and coppery skin from her Hispanic ancestors. Tired dark eyes. I'd be pretty if I added some weight and didn't look so worn out. Welcome to the world, babe.

Wilson turned from the autodoc, holding a glass of aquamarine liquid. 'This is it, Jillian.'

'What is it?'

'Well, basically, it's a compound of many different specific modification agents. Virtually ever major system will be affected, so you'll feel a bit under the weather for a day or two. You'll get a dose each day; the compounds will vary depending upon your progress and the stage you've reached. Drink up.'

She took the glass. This is scary. Better just to...she swallowed it in two gulps. The taste was slightly sweet.

'Okay, all done, Jillian.' Wilson handed her a gown of soft gray fabric. 'Wear this. You'll find it more comfortable, particularly as you go through the process'. She donned it. 'We'll keep your clothes for you. We'll see you each day at 1500; just wait outside the lock at that time'. She led Jillian back into the living area. 'They did you proud, for sure', she said, looking at the catalog of bookvids, holovids, music. 'Now, you'll feel very hungry soon. That's your body needing fuel—lots of it—to power the changes. Eat all your food, okay?'

Jillian nodded.

'See you tomorrow.' She walked back into the exam area, and the lock hissed shut behind her. Wilson turned to her colleague and handed her Jillian's clothes. 'Take these, would you?'

'When will we return them to her?'

'I think that, in a short time, Jillian won't miss them—ever again.'

Jillian sat down in the entertainment area. She tried to relax, but random thoughts kept intruding. What are they doing to me? I won't really change much, will I? They never really went into great detail about it. So are my tits supposed to become a little firmer, or something? Will I want to have sex once in a while? I haven't been with a man since Jason when I was thirteen, and that was just a quick thing. Maybe it's a mental block. 'Commitment, fear of', huh? Better just to masturbate and not worry about anyone else. Maybe my libido will be a little enhanced. That'd be great if Jack and I stayed together. Jack. What a wonderful man. I wish I'd kissed him longer. We're both so scared though, aren't we? I wonder, if I'd met him and there'd never been a war, would we have just had a normal relationship?

She awakened from her half-doze. Time had passed; two hours? Three? She felt a bit queasy, and went to lie down on the bed. She burrowed under the covers.

DAY ONE: Subject felt first symptoms of what is, in essence, a large scale quasi-viral invasion of her system. While all efforts have been made to minimize discomfort, some will inevitably result as body reflexively attempts to fight off an alien presence. However, the quasi-viral agents should be able to overcome this resistance and begin modification within a few hours.

She awakened. She felt awful; barely able to get out of bed, headache, sore all over. She went to the kitchen and instructed the foodcomp to get some orange juice. A small glass immediately appeared in the dispenser. 'LARGE, please', she said, and with a disappointed whirr the comp obediently presented her with one large glass of juice. She drank it, went back to bed, and slept until 1500.

Wilson awakened her. They performed a short exam, pronounced her healthy, and let her return to rest.

DAY TWO: Subject experienced discomfort throughout day. Deepscan reveals subject's body has already accepted agents across full spectrum of target areas. Massive increase in caloric needs anticipated. Subject will sleep very soundly tonight as her body is already beginning to respond to 'instructions' from the genetic reprogramming. First stage conversion symptoms present: muscle growth commencing in several areas. First signs of mammary modification will be felt as soreness in nipples as breasts begin to respond to genetic recoding instructions.

She awakened. She felt better. Far better. The ache was gone, and she was hungry. She felt more alive than she had in years, and went into the kitchen for a meal. The comp presented her with an enormous breakfast. I can't eat this, she thought, and settled for some toast and juice. But the omelette looked tasty, and she finished it off, too—and the cereal, and ham, and more toast, and another omelette. I've never been so hungry before.

DAY THREE: Oxygen uptake increasing; subject experiences this as a feeling of well-being. In combination with increased caloric intake, this will fuel all further changes to subject's body systems. Calory count: 7200 today.

She awakened and felt the soreness. Her nipples ached—a dull, yet bearable sensation—as the gown's fabric pressed against them. She sat up in bed, feeling more alert than she'd ever felt in the morning, and let the gown slip down. Her breasts looked the same. Jillian cupped them, feeling their weight. No difference—the same as on any other of hundreds of mornings. No fuller, either. She gently caressed her nipples, rubbing them thoughtfully. Tender, definitely. She stood up and let the gown drop to the floor, and strode over to the quarters' full-length mirror. The image reflected in it was the same as always though, as she examined her face, she thought that she looked more rested than she had in months. Her skin looked less fatigued, more healthy. She walked to the shower. I'm really shy about this, she thought. I hope nobody is watching me when I'm nude. Maybe they can just stop now, and I can go back to Jack....

Jillian stepped in; the cubicle sensed her presence and the water came on, hot and refreshing. She stood in its flow, enjoying the sensation. The liquid cascaded down, caressing her skin sensuously, flowing across her shoulders, onto the gentle swell of her tits, washing across her nipples. She leaned back against the wall, enjoying the sensation. I wish Jack was here, she thought. I'd love to be showering with him...where did that come from? The water sluiced across her nipples, heat meeting tenderness and soothing it, stroking, like lips gently suckling and kneading. Jillian cupped her breasts, holding them firmly, letting the water wash across, and looked down. Her nipples were hardening under the water's stimulus, and she watched in fascination. Experimentally she lightly pinched each nipple, teasing them, and a sudden wave of lust surged from them deep into her breasts, and down, down through her being, so that she clasped her thighs together against a powerful surge of electric pleasure. She dropped her hands, but it felt so good that, without thinking, she brought them back up and slowly, carefully began to knead each nipple, pressing with her palms, her fingers beginning to clasp her tits more forcefully. Her head relaxed against the shower wall, and waves of pleasure surged outward. Oh Jack, I want to make love to you, I want your hands on me, I want you inside me so badly, oh baby, please take me...Jill realized she was murmuring aloud. Oh, I can't stop, it feels so good, so good, press it harder, suckle me Jack, make me yours, my tits feel so incredible, oh yes yes yes...she orgasmed, her knees buckling, waves of ecstasy sweeping through her, a living fire. 

Jillian knelt on the shower floor. God, that was better than I ever imagined. I wonder if this is the first sign....

That afternoon she drank the dosage with relish. Dinner was simply huge, but she devoured it with an appetite worthy of a teenager. That night, as she lay in bed, thinking of Jack, she caressed her breasts again. Give me that sort of pleasure again, she thought. I want it with Jack.

DAY FOUR: Subject examined breasts several times during period. Sensors indicate initial tissue growth in both breasts, approximately 270 times normal rate. While not discernible to casual inspection, deep scans reveal local centers of increasing tissue density comparable to that of female shortly after puberty. This has created some soreness in subject's nipples and aureoles, which subject appears to have found highly pleasurable. Oxygen uptake at high level, leading to increasing feeling of well-being by subject. Overt effects include firming flesh tone and clearing skin.

Subject masturbated in shower; manual stimulation of breasts alone led to orgasm. Hormonal response was well above unmodified human norm; subjectively, Jillian will have felt a 'powerful' orgasm, though one still within human norm limits. 

___________________

Jill awakened. Her nipples were still sore—if anything, more than before, and now her breasts ached as well. She let her gown drop. I wonder if they watch all this, she grinned inwardly. The morning peep-show. Who cares?

She felt each breast, tenderly cupping them. Could it be that both were firmer? She tried to think how they'd felt before. Possibly? She let the gown fall, and walked to the mirror again. I wonder if I could command it to....

'Body scan, full, brief result, vox', she said to the empty air. The mirror shimmered. A soft voice warned 'please close eyes'. Soundless lasers scanned her from through the mirror, and five seconds later the impersonal voice said 'Scan complete, height 5'7", weight 127, measurements 33B-22-33'.

She opened her eyes. A full inch around? She looked more closely at the mirror. Her breasts DID appear somewhat fuller. Deep inside them she felt a dull pressure, as if growing tissue were pressing against the skin over them—a pleasurable feeling of growth. She touched her left tit and pressed, softly, then more firmly. Yes—without doubt, she was firmer. She cupped them, and yes, they did appear to round into her hands more fully than yesterday. The tissue growth must be simply fantastic; no wonder I eat like a pig!

She showered, ate—an even bigger meal, and sat down to read a bookvid. The air was warm and soft on her naked body. And with a start, she realized that she hadn't put on a fresh gown. She went to get one from the sleeping chamber.

DAY FIVE: Subject now experiencing outward signs of inward genetic modification. Breast size beginning to increase; subject apparently found this pleasing. Breast density approaching that of human female circa age 19. Milk producing potential increased by approximately 72% over subject's baseline. 

Internal changes progress smoothly. Muscle strength increasing in pelvic area as tissue grows and strengthens. Hormonal and genetic modification creating areas of increasing sensitivity. Thus far, subject has only noticed this in her nipples, but change will become apparent to her over next few days as breeder modifications take full effect. We expect breast size to increase more rapidly over that time, then level off thereafter. Body fat increase by approximately 7.3%; this is being stored in hips and buttocks, though subject did not notice this. Subject failed to resume attire after breakfast; this may possibly be first indication of low-level inhibition suppression (see Annex 3D, 'Neurochemical Sexual Inhibition Modifications' for details). Recommend we set living quarters to autosense optimal temperature and humidty to encourage subject to remain nude with increasing frequency. This should serve as psychological reinforcement to removal of inhibition and aid in accustoming subject to nudity as normal behaviour.

She awakened. Had she neglected to put on a gown before bedtime last night? Clearly so; she lay nude in bed. Is this part of the process, I wonder?, she thought, but the idea no longer alarmed her. She sat up and looked down. Her nipples were firmer. No doubt about it now, her breasts were swelling noticeably—not that much, but enough that they were beginning to show a very pleasing curve. Oh, baby, you look good, she thought. The ache had gone away, too. She cupped her left tit: yes, it felt firmer, and the mere touch was pleasurable. Oh, I bet a man would love to hold you now. She stood up and walked to the mirror. Were her hips slightly fuller? She ran her hands down them, and the sight of her doing so made her suddenly feel wanton. Yeah, they are fuller. I'm getting the hips the models always used to have before the war. I feel great. She turned sideways. Her buttocks were becoming more rounded—not much, but the curve was definitely there. She went back to the bed. I wonder what it would be like now? Would Jack like the sight of me? She opened her eyes. Formerly her tits would have had only the gentlest swell as she lay back; now they were more pronounced, and their curves looked perfect for a man's hands. Without thinking she reached down and caressed the soft cleft between her legs. Her labia ached, and she gently stroked the lips, and as she did so she watched her nipples fill and rise. Oh, yes, she thought, it is happening. I'm 'converting', and they were right, it feels so good. Oh, Jack, take me. She closed her eyes and stuck one finger gently between her labia, slick with wetness. She felt a reflexive surge in her loins, and her entrance tightened around her finger. She moaned, and put her left hand on her swollen nipple, rubbing, pressing. Oh god oh yes Jack enter me now, that's it, harder...she pushed her finger deeper, and pulled out. Oh yes, that's it, thrust into me, harder...her hips began to move in time with her finger, and they rose off the bed as she pushed, trying to take her finger in more deeply. Thought was replaced by sensation...I'm losing it, I'm losing it, oh mate with me, deep inside me, come in me, come in me, come in me Jack please come in me now I'm coming oh god I'm coming....she bucked, she convulsed, and the lightning ripped through her, spreading from her vagina and clitoris, surging through her breasts and legs and arms and lips and mind and soul. Whiteness and pure joy replaced, became reality.




Recovery Mission



The tide ebbed, and her buttocks sank back onto the bed. Then the miracle, the joy, happened: her body began to move again, pressing against her hand, and she arched her back so that her tit could press harder against her comforting, ministering palm. Oh my god I'm going to come again oh oh oh Jack yes enter me now do me forever mate don't stop come in me yes Jack Jack...and the fire swept through her again, her buttocks tensing, vagina clenching her finger harder than she thought possible.

She came down, opening her eyes dazedly. Her breasts were tinged with red, the sign of intense arousal, her stomach trembled, and her crotch was soaked with her own juices. Her legs trembled. Oh god, I've never had an orgasm—two—like that, she thought. I never knew. She lay quietly for minutes, then went to shower and breakfast.

That day she listened to music and did some exercise. At 1500, the chamber door opened, and Dr. Wilson gestured her through. She sat on the exam table, and realized with a start that she was still nude. 

'How do you feel, Jillian?'

'Fine, doctor.'

Wilsonn touched her breasts. 'How are these?'

'They hurt a bit to begin with, but they feel wonderful now. Thank you, they are so nice. And my hips and ass are nice, too.' Jill laughed, blushing slightly.

'I'm glad, Jillian. No other symptoms?' 

Jill blushed deeply. 'Well, I had two orgasms today'—why am I saying this? I don't feel any embarrassment—'and they were incredible. Is this part of the process? I wouldn't even have talked about orgasms and sex last week, but now it just seems so normal.'

'Good. No pain?'

'None. It felt really good. In fact, it was as if I couldn't control myself. Like my, well, like my mind dissolved and I was just sort of in the experience. I didn't want it to stop and I didn't care'.

'Excellent. Drink this,then'. And she handed Jillian the desired blue liquid.

That night Jillian dreamt of home, and for the first time in years she felt no sadness.

DAY SIX: Subject's body evidences increasingly rapid breeder optimization. Breast size increasing steadily; remote scan indicates 33C (from 32B); weight increasing (130 lbs) with virtually all additional being added to hips and buttocks, and minor amounts to upper arms and legs. Subject is developing the body of an athlete; muscle tone is increasing. Subject remained nude throughout day, we recommend leaving gowns available, as an obvious removal of same might cause some temporary anxiety in subject. Subject apparently did not anticipate that she might prefer nudity, though our model predicted this. The success of this will be of great aid in visually-cued arousal of both male and female breeders in future if full-time nudity becomes their norm. Further, the absence of clothing reinforces the 'natural state' psychology we hope to achieve, which itself will contribute to more frequent mating.

Pelvic cluster shows marked increase in strength and tone. During multiple orgasm AM, subject's blood chemistry showed hormonal levels near those required to overcome learned inhibitions. Over next three days it is estimated that these will reach saturation in subject, removing inhibitory behaviour altogether. Subject's masturbation indicates that she is now adjusting fully to, and is comfortable with, her body's changes. Though subject initially showed doubt and fear, as predicted the increasing psycho-physical changes throughout her system are acting to remove the negative attitude. Each sexual experience serves to acclimate subject to freer sexual response in future. Caloric intake 7300 per day. 

She awakened. Her breasts felt different, and she pulled the covers off and looked with pleasure. Each precious teat was noticeably fuller; as she sat up they swayed gently, firm, rounded. She cupped them,and thrust her back out. This is what I'd always wanted to look like, she thought. They're jutting out enough that they must be at least two inches now, and they're so wonderfully curved, filling out inexorably, promising joy. Her aureoles were dark and wide, stretching as her breasts developed, and her nipples were thicker, too. Ready to give milk, she thought. She went to the mirror: yes, hips were wider, and buttocks more shapely. The mirror scanned her: 33.5C-24-34. The stats sounded sweetly in her ears. I'm beautiful, she thought. She regarded herself: her skin glowed, her eyes were clear, hair glossy, and her tits...her tits...how good they looked. Had she ever been afraid of this? Yes, she had, but she wasn't sure why. She swayed her hips and smiled roguishly: 'hey there, baby, want some of this?' 

She showered, ate another huge breakfast, and thought: man, I'm horny again. She returned to the bedroom. I'll give them something to look at, she thought, and touched herself caressingly. She moaned gently in the warm air (was it warmer than a few days ago?), and opened her legs wide, caressing her cleft, teasing her clitoris. Are my labia a little thicker? Am I even wetter than I ever have been? Yes...it feels so nice. She rolled onto her stomach, opened her legs, and inserted three fingers into her body. She wriggled against the mattress, enjoying the pressure against her breasts—her fuller breasts, which for the first time she could massage and enjoy the rolling of them as she moved against the bed. How wonderful it felt to have fuller tits...she opened her legs wider, using her thumb to flick against her clit, and her mouth opened in a gasp of pleasure. Her other hand rose to it, and without thinking she took a finger into her mouth, flicking her tongue over it, sucking it, biting gently, making inarticulate sounds of joy. The remote monitors showed her writhing, a fit, lovely female, rounded buttocks framing her hand soaked by her juices. The first orgasm shook her, and she paused. The unseen monitors recorded. She resumed, her body moving more and more rhythmically, and her hips moved, jerkily at first, slowly settling into a rhythm of their own. Her nipples swelled, harder than she'd ever known, rubbing against the mattress, and nothing was left but the joy.

DAY SEVEN: Subject experienced extended arousal episode following morning meal. Subject rapidly losing ability to control or restrain incidence of such episodes, indicating successful transition to desired 'breeder' status well underway. Experienced four orgasms over 90 minute period in AM, and another following a short rest. Sexual flush very evident on breasts, upper arms, throat and stomach. Darkening of eyelids and under eyes followed prolonged masturbation. Oxygenation at target levels. Saturation attained in inhibition reduction chemical complexes. Pheromonal sensitivity increasing—we recommend that final tests occur in environment atmosphere saturated with male pheromones to create as realistic a condition as possible. Estimated time to complete physical modification completion: three days. Estimate to final physiological conversion: six days. Psychosexual realignment already far advanced, and occurred more quickly than anticipated. Subject appears to be fully adjusting to bodily changes.

She awakened. Without looking she knew that her tits had grown. She looked down; the skin swelled out from below her collarbone, and the space between her breasts showed a beautiful cleavage. The mirror told her that they were now 35C. God, I've grown three inches, and she felt their firmness. I wouldn't even need a bra. They feel so right, so full, so firm, so round. As she sat up, they swayed gently, but not much—so very firm, she thought. She stood in front of the mirror. She stroked her hips. Her skin was smooth and soft. Oh, look...Jack would love these. She cupped her ass. God, I'd love for him to hold me right there, while he stood and I wrapped my legs around his waist. We could make love while he thrust into me, and I'd let my head fall back while he suckled me and I cradled his head. Jack, Jack, I just want you to make me yours forever. I wish you were here now, we'd make sweet love for hours, and I'd pleasure you and feel your hard cock deep inside me. I wish I'd told you, Jack. Please let me see you again. I need you so much.

DAY EIGHT: Subject's breast growth nearly complete. Subject appears ecstatic about her figure, repeatedly caressing herself throughout day. Nudity now accepted as normal; Jillian appears not to realize or miss the absence of clothes. Physiological changes well under way to completion. Neurochemical levels have been modified and inhibitory behaviours dampened to virtually nil. Pheromonal sensitivity now some 250% above pre-conversion norm. Vaginal, pubic and pelvic strength approximately 3 times pre-conversion norm. Subject's saliva shows increasing levels of chemical compounds commonly identified with those increasing male sexual arousal. Lips are slightly fuller as well. Given the unexpectedly rapid success of the programme, we suggest that psychosexual conditioning (Phase II) be initiated to complete breeder conversion.

She awakened and lay quietly, enjoying the alertness and health, and the way her breasts swelled the covers over them. The sheet tickled her nipples, and she pulled it down to look proudly on her tits. 36C, I think. Yes, and firmer than anyone else's too. And I'm horny already. She lay still, feeling a slow pulsing deep in her vagina, almost as if dormant muscles were flexing. It felt good—like a deep, slow, erotic massage. She sighed and pulled the cover away, leaving her nude on the bed. I wore clothes once, didn't I? Yes. I did. Why? It's so warm in here, and this way I can look at myself all the time.

She arose and went to eat breakfast. As she entered the corridor, Dr. Wilson appeared. Surprisingly, the third lock was open.

'Is it 1500 already?' Jillian teased. Wilson smiled.

'Jillian, would you come with us, please? We'd like to run some reaction tests.'

She followed through the lock, through the exam room, and into a new room which was just barely lit by muted backlighting—just enough to see a shadowy bank of equipment, a cushioned...chair, she thought, and little else. The other medico, a woman, stood beside the chair. Wilson led her to the chair, which on closer look was padded, but of open frame construction with two leg supports, much like an examination chair. A padded headrest completed the ensemble. 'Sit down, please'. Jillian complied. The chair was warm.

'Jillian, you are looking great. How do you feel?'

'Fantastic. I don't know what all has changed, but I feel marvellous.'

Wilson smiled down at her. 'You look marvellous, too. Congratulations. How has the conversion experience been?'

'It's been amazing. I remember being so scared at first, but for some reason I'm not anymore. I'm just me, but with a great body. And the feelings are indescribable. I never had any idea how wonderful I'd feel. It's like, well, sex taken to a hundred times better than I'd ever imagined. I seem to want sex a lot now, too.'

Jillian looked at her full breasts complacently. She stroked one teasingly. 'You have no idea how good this feels. They're so much nicer now.' Did I just say that? 

'Okay, we're going to run some tests of response. First, we're going to just restrain you so you don't hurt yourself. The tests should be pleasurable, but you may experience extreme reactions in your pleasure'.

'That sounds like fun, Doctor! Go ahead.' Jill smiled archly. I'm quite the minx!

The two medicos slid soft restraining straps from the chair arms, looping across her upper arms, and another set across her wrists. Another set went around her thighs, and a final set around her ankles, gently tightening to restrain her comfortably. 

'Okay, just a few questions:

Do you miss clothes?'

'No, it's weird but I don't. I like being nude now, it's so much more natural, you know? I like seeing myself in the mirror and watching myself. I used to be very modest, so it's weird. But I love seeing my body and thinking about Jack...'

'Do you remember how you felt before starting the programme?'

'Yes. I was shy, and I didn't like being undressed in front of others, and I was scared. Really scared. I don't remember why I felt that way, really.'

'What about sex? Do you want to be with a man?'

'Yes, more than anything. I never thought I was especially horny, you know, but every day now I have orgasms, more than one. I've never known anything so wonderful before.'

'A particular man?'

'Jack. I want Jack.'

'What about another man?'

'No. Just Jack. I dream of him all the time'.

'If you were with Jack, what would you do?'

'Hmm. Well, I'd get his clothes off, and kiss him all over, and give myself totally to him, and take him, and just get him deep inside me, forever.'

'Sounds like you want him badly.'

'I do; funny, but before this I was never open like I am now.'

'And would you consider being with other men?'

'No, never. I just want Jack. Jack and Jill'. She smiled.

'Okay, now we're going to do some tests. Just relax, okay? Tell us if you feel anything in particular, but just relax.'

A helmet slid down from behind the chair. They fitted it to her head; soft earpieces rested snugly on her, and two eyepatches adjusted themselves to her. All outside sound ceased. She lay in the warm dark, waiting. She felt two soft pads attached to her nipples, and another on her clitoris. So sensitive was she now that she moaned with pleasure at the sensation. Time passed.

At first there was only the suggestion of light—soft blue flickers rising from just beyond perception. Gradually, they began to pulse, strengthening, flickering against her closed eyelids. Slowly, just at the threshold of sound, a deep, slow throb filled her ears. She relaxed, letting the light and sound fill her. They throbbed in time with her heartbeat, the blue flickers slowly turning purple and deep red. Jillian felt herself slipping into a state of near-sleep. Slowly, in time with the light, she felt a slight tingling in each nipple, then on her clitoris. She shifted and wriggled, enjoying the sensation. She floated in an empty, warm space, becoming one with the rhythm, and the tingling increased, becoming a slow throb in time with the light. She gasped; the chair's back just behind her breasts began to press upward, arching her back slowly, irresistibly, pressing her breasts up against the pads, her nipples rock hard now, wanting more of the pleasure. She felt her vagina and labia becoming wet; she felt her clitoris harden as the throbbing spread through it and into her stomach, buttocks, thighs. Her labia were swelling with the pleasure. Softly, at the edge of sound, she heard whispers, evocative, evasive, almost too faint to hear, or perhaps they were only imaginings in her mind: breed, they said softly. Breed. Breed. Breed. She moaned in reply. Do you want to breed? the gentle voices asked, echoing in her mind. She cried out, 'yes oh yes'. Breed, came the voices, and the throbbing in her nipples and clit increased, one with the light and the voices. Her labia swelled, a pressure building between her legs, pressing against them,urging them apart. Open yourself. Open. Open your legs. Open your legs. Open your legs. She felt the restraining pressure of the straps around her thighs, and pushed outward against them. The leg rests responded, swinging apart, ratcheting, wider and still wider. Open your legs. Open your legs. She opened herself wide, giving in to the insistent pressure between her legs, and felt her vagina opening, her legs splayed out, and she turned her knees outward, the rests swivelling to allow it, ratcheting into place, locking her wide open. Breed, came the soft voices. Her beautiful full tits were filled by the throbbing from her nipples now. Ask to be bred, ask to be bred, ask to be bred, ask to be bred, the voices said, softly, insistently, and she cried aloud, 'please oh god breed me oh please I can't wait please please', she moaned. A hard, warm presence nuzzled up against her labia, nestling between her lips. Her hips strained up against it. The hardness stroked up, then down against her labia, brushing her clitoris, slowly, very slowly. The stroking diminished as the hardness began to press forward, parting her lips, its head beginning a smooth journey deep into her core, its head opening her wide, the shaft filling her emptiness. Her wetness enveloped it Oh god oh god yes...Breed, Jillian. Breed. Mate. Mate. She floated in the timeless void, mating, her breasts throbbing, her clitoris harder than she'd ever known, being mastered and taken by the hardness, and the universe sang as she bred. Say it aloud with us, Jillian. Mate. 'Mate', she cried, weeping with the joy of it. Mate me, breed me oh don't stop, don't stop...the object penetrated her fully, filling her vagina, warm and hard, then began to withdraw. No don't stop please don't stop...then it thrust forward again, and withdrew, and forward again, its rhythm in synchrony with that of the throbbing in her breasts and in her mind. 'Mate me' she cried aloud, 'mate me forever'. She mated. The hardness thrust into her, each thrust a tidal wave of light, an ecstasy, and her body tightened around it, grasping hard, the pleasure doubling, then doubling again, and again. Tightly clasped in her now, the hardness, like living iron, stroked her core. Breeding oh breeding...the words echoed in her, around her, the only reality...the pleasure built, washing away conscious thought, leaving only mute sensation. She could no longer speak, but only moan in the shining emptiness. The voices whispered, mate mate mate mate, and she mated, wild and unafraid, joy surging through her breasts, her life-giving breasts, her vagina tightening in a grip harder than she'd ever known, her body succumbing to ecstasy deeper and stronger than anything she'd experienced before. You are a breeder. You are a breeder. You are a...she came, screaming, holding the hardness deep in her, letting the waves of mating ecstasy take her, and the light exploded, her being convulsed.

Slowly she came down. I'm Jillian, she thought, Jillian. Not a 'breeder'. I'm Jillian. Oh that was so good. Oh, please stop, don't stop. The hardness stroked more and more slowly in her, the throbbing ceased. The absence was like leaving heaven. Mate again. Mate again came the voices. Slowly the throbbing resumed. Mate. Mate. She felt herself slipping, her being succumbing. Ask to breed, ask, ask. The sensation lessened. Please, oh don't stop it please...Ask to breed. 'Breed me' she cried out again, and the pleasure returned. You are a breeder. Yes, please don't stop she cried aloud. You are a breeder. Yes, I am a breeder she moaned in her joy. Her breasts were ready to suckle, her body to mate and reproduce. The hardness thrust again, her vagina took it, and she soared, coming again, and again, and again....

Wilson watched Jillian writhing, slick with sweat, in the chair. Her breasts—how firm they were, thought Wilson enviously—were tinged with the blush of deep arousal, and Jillian licked her full lips, moaning, unable to speak, oblivious to the world around her. Her legs, splayed widely, framed the probe that penetrated deeply into her soaking wet vagina. God, she looks so happy, Wilson thought. The psychosexual conditioning routine must be very pleasurable. She felt a wetness; I'm getting horny just watching her become a breeder!

DAY NINE: Subject undergoes first phase of psychosexual conditioning. Physical conversion process nearly complete. Sexual response near goals: pelvic muscle strength nearly 350% beyond human norm, modifications to salivary tract complete, greatly enhanced sensitivity in breasts, nipples, vagina, clitoris, throat, lips and neck. Greater overall sensitivity in virtually every area of body. Measurements indicate orgasmic response continues to heighten, now reaching some 250% of human norm. Hormone response to stimulation was far swifter than that of human norm; overt sexual arousal some 30% faster than that of pre-conversion human. Stimulus of breasts and clitoris, combined with penetration by probe, elicited multiple rapid orgasm without need or desire for rest. Cognitive functions overwhelmed by biochemical mating response—subject temporarily lost ability to speak, reverting to a deeply elemental state of arousal. Positive reinforcement of new role as breeder commenced; subject accepted suggestion following initial denial. Subject is expected—as hoped—to retain full personality characteristics while losing any inhibition about repeated sexual coitus. Subject's pre-conversion shyness and modesty fully dissolved.