0 comments/ 11553 views/ 0 favorites The Model Ch. 02 By: Taunus Recall: Crassius Cornu inherited a lot of money. He attended a fine university and acquired a position with a financial institution. There he invested other people's money, making a profit whether they gained or lost. And he got bonuses in addition. Like many financial professionals of the future, he lived away from the city in a gated community and a protected estate. A limousine whisks him from his home to the train station, it is only a short stroll from the train terminal to the office. At the end of the day the process is reversed. Like many well-heeled professionals, Crassius owns a gynoid. (A gynoid is a female android.) The gynoid is, of course, the most gorgeous of women, albeit a robot. The only limitation, and it is a severe one, is the "umbilical cord" connecting the gynoid to a power supply, chemical sources, pneumatic and hydraulic connections, and Internet. The umbilical cord is usually fashioned as a tether, either connecting a collar to an outlet or an ankle cuff, giving the gynoid the appearance of being a slave girl. Crassius's gynoid, named Toy Euler, connected via an ankle cuff. Of course there was a portable back pack, providing some mobility for up to one-half an hour. Crassius could care less about the technological details. Toy did his personal finances, taxes, prepared food, attended to his dental hygiene and minor medical needs, and---most of all---serviced him admirably in bed. She had perfect skin, female pheromones, ideal lubricants, and she never said "no." Each month her maintenance supplier would replenish the chemicals and the liquid Nitrogen tank. The gynoid required so much energy that a trickle of liquid Nitrogen was required to cool her inner machinery. She exhaled Nitrogen gas. Toy had to "breathe to live," still another touch of realism for the man of the future. Toy Euler did not come cheap. Like so many gynoids, Toy had a history. One might have to pay handsomely for a rich, variegated past. She had been a slave girl on line for some time before receiving a material, Real Life body. Of course, there were "new born" gynoids, without memory and hosting programmed behavior, but Crassius was interested in a gynoid with a very unusual past. She had been a slave girl to scholars, poets, writers, and---most curiously---an acquaintance of the celibate cenobite Faustus. Recall recent events: Bob Huddlestone abducted an eighteen-year-old girl named Sabrina Barlot. She was to be "warehoused" in Crassius Cornu's dungeon for only a day or so. But Bob was overcome by events and Crassius was left with a caged girl. The story continues. Crassius summonsed Toy to his study. He was pouring over some old magazine, printed on paper, and other ancient documents. "We seem to be stuck with Sabrina, the eighteen-year-old abducted girl. I had planned to cage her for a day or two, but events have changed. Tell me how things are going with the girl." "This girl has been very careful to ensure that she is tethered with her wrists handcuffed behind her back before unlocking the cage door," Toy Euler began narrating with her highest priorities. "The caged human girl has maintained excellent health, by all the usual metrics. She did complain of constipation one day and I administered a glycerin suppository, which alleviated her discomfiture. To relieve some of her boredom, she was allowed to watch the news on the box." Crassius listened and nodded. "Details," he uttered. "Each week this girl trims the caged human girl's fingernails and toenails. She also uses electric shears to remove the girl's head hair and her hypogastric pubic hair, her naturally blonde bush. This is for hygienic reasons as a girl is caged and not allowed bath or shower privileges." Toy continued to narrate. "Good," Crassius exclaimed. "But I'm sure that you can detail the erotic, exotic, and humiliating events as well." "Yes, Master," Toy replied, shuffling the priorities to the so-called "dark subjects." "A girl is required to masturbate before being fed. This way she is able to cope with her captivity better. Of course, she must experience an orgasm. This is ensured by having her insert an anal probe, a large butt plug, prior to her climax. Only by careful monitoring of her vital signs can one be certain that she is not faking her orgasm." "Do continue," Crassius said, now showing some slight interest. Toy Euler's programming enabled her to minutely monitor men's facial expressions and body language. She described in detail the morning ritual. "The girl is awakened at six o'clock each day after You leave for work, Master. She must yield her thick wool blanket and consume a liter of warm water. She stands in her cell for one hour holding her urine. Then she is given the anal probe to moisten with her saliva or vaginal secretions, as she pleases, and insert into her rectum. Then she must masturbate before being allowed to urinate and be fed." "Interesting," Crassius commented. "You certainly were the SM-girl in your earlier life." He looked at some document and changed the subject of conversation. "Do you have any idea what this huge silver coils is Toy, or what it's used for?" "No, Master," she answered. "It is a coil of silver wire, some ten meters in diameter," he responded. "Does a girl have any idea why it is silver?" "No, Master," she replied, "A girl does not know." "Silver," Crassius explained, "is the best conductor of electricity there is, at least in 'normal' situations. Remember that if you move a conducting coil in a magnetic field, it produces electricity. Likewise if you have a conductor in a changing magnetic field, it also induces electric current. There are a few spots on earth where the magnetic field, the earth's own magnetic field varies. Hence, there is a possibility of generating electricity without any moving parts---solar but not at the caprice of overhead clouds." "A girl is scanning her knowledgebase, Master," Toy Euler interjected. "The theory is sound and has been added to her current knowledge stack." "You know that it won't produce enough electricity to pay for its installation, don't you girl?" Crassius retorted. "Yes, Master," Toy spoke softly, indicating embarrassment at her last remark." "But it is a tax credit," Crassius boasted, "and suitable for sparse funding and a gargantuan write-off. You see the point! In 2010 dirty coal accounted for 51% of the electricity produced in the U.S.A. Today, it is nearly 60% with 1%, more or less (mostly less) known as 'clean coal.' The sky is darker than ever before. Welcome to 'Greenhouse 2016.'" Toy Euler induced a smile and a chuckle. She had heard this story countless times before. Green carbon credits are real money to Ole King Coal, the titular head of the Fossil Fuel Fellowship. "This ten-meter silver 'wedding ring' will cost plenty," Crassius elaborated. He then whined at the paucity, dearth even, of impractical yet expensive energy ideas. Again, Toy edited previous versions of this philippic diatribe. Much of what he said might be tradable data on the web. Men usually think of women in general and gynoids being technically illiterate and unable to grasp mathematical and engineering subtleties. One need only consider the "bimbo" actress Heddy Lamarr. "What America needs is a ridiculously expensive, home grown, commercial off-the-shelf, energy well. Not a perpetual motion machine, but something that can pump energy for months or years before needing an expensive upgrade. Imagine not having a tether, an umbilical cord, Toy?" As Crassius uttered the last comment, Toy perked. "Master has some idea?" Toy queried. "Not precisely or exactly," Crassius exclaimed. "But all I need is the seed to attract investors and become rich. As long as it's other people's money, I'm comfortable with it." "And this is what You want from that creepy old hermit Faustus, Master?" Toy asked. Crassius Cornu slobbered and drooled as he answered: "Yup---yes. Very much so. Something to send in and get government to approve. Maybe grease a few skids? A techy-sounding tidbit, albeit flawed. When experts disagree who are the bureaucrats to listen to? And carbon credits galore! Just get the old geezer to cough up some engineering specs and some mathematical gobbledygook and money will flow in." "What should a girl do?" Toy Euler squealed in a high-pitched voice, perfectly emulating and imitating excitability and impulsiveness. Crassius smiled. At times like these he might forget that she was a machine. He grabbed her, kissed her, and began fondling her breasts and privates. Her response was immediate and positive. She could even sense that he was in a mood for doggie style, vaginal and anal. In the bedroom, Crassius donned his black executioner's hood. He turned on the recording cameras and enabled a feed to the dungeon. Sabrina might watch Toy and her Master, but would only endure the hands and commands of the gynoid. Relieved, Crassius left the room briefly and returned with a large black shipping collar. "This is for Sabrina," he explained. "It is an obedience collar that packs a hefty wallop and can constrict. She should be collared today. Then let her in the garden naked. She will receive the shock of her life if she approaches too close to a wall. Not that she would ever be able to scale the wall anyway." "Yes, Master," Toy agreed. "And," Crassius commanded, "twist that little tart into the kind of video that Faustus turns to or turns away from. Hook that cenobite and convince him to spit up his energy thingamajig or doohickey. For sure you can! Maybe you should bind her painfully at night? Just a thought? After all, girl, you are the Master---or Mistress---of BDSM." 4 April 2010 Taunus Trumbo The Model Ch. 03 Toy Euler has been waiting outside of Basilica Cardinali for a long time. Toy Euler: Greetings Faustus! Faustus Mortal: I am late for Mass. Please excuse me! Toy Euler: But this is important! Faustus Mortal: Now what? Toy Euler: I have film clips of Sabrina, she could be your toy or pet. Faustus Mortal: Not interested. Toy Euler: Of course you are. What man isn't interested in a rich, spoiled, blonde eighteen-year-old girl? Faustus Mortal: Hmm? Toy Euler: Her father bought her a Mercedes Benz on her eighteenth birthday. She went out and celebrated by scoring some dope. She is no angel. Had she not engaged in risky behavior, the carjackers would never have targeted her in the first place. Faustus Mortal: Do tell. Toy Euler knew that this would attract his interest. Toy Euler: Sabrina is a spoiled girl. Her daddy has pulled her out of one scrape after another. What she is enduring is no less than what she so richly deserves. Look at her in her new obedience collar. Faustus Mortal pauses to watch the film clip. Several religious pass by unnoticed. The girl Sabrina is in a garden on a leash. She is naked and Toy Euler is leading her. Toy is wearing blue jeans, tennis shoes, a T-shirt, and white cotton bra, panties, and socks. Toy's hair is in a pony tail. Sabrina's hair is sheared, displaying a blonde stubble on her head and her bush. Toy Euler: You will enjoy this. I have her lift her arms high above her head and stretch. See those blonde, hairy armpits. In the bright sunlight they glisten like spun gold. She has been forced to exercise and work up a sweat. Isn't she gorgeous nude and sweaty. Of course she is never allowed to bathe. Toy Euler: I hose her down on her hygiene day once a week. That is after trimming her fingernails, toenails, and hair, head and bush. Faustus Mortal: And this means to me? Toy Euler: Your quantum physics model and she's yours to command---either remotely or in person. Faustus Mortal: That is temptation, Satan! Toy Euler: Now I give her a butt plug. The huge butt plug is actually an anal probe with sensors to measure everything from her sphincter tension, body temperature, galvanic skin response, and body motion. Toy Euler: Watch her moisten it with her own spit and struggle to insert it into her rectum. It took a lot of persuasion to train her to beg for this sex toy and use it. I had to hose her down with ice water, starve her, and even keep her naked and in total darkness for hours. Toy Euler: It sure is Satanic. Now watch as she masturbates in the garden in broad daylight! Her right hand works her pussy while her left hand rubs those small A-cup breasts. See how her nipples stand erect and her areolas tighten and pucker. Faustus Mortal gasps. Toy Euler: She has not only to cum but her oils of submission must dampen her hypogastric playground and streak down those creamy inner thighs. If that doesn't turn on any mortal man, I don't know what would? Notice how the Head's Up Device (HUD) displays her level of arousal. She nears climax only to experience a shock from her collar. She knows that she must cum and wishes to get this ordeal over with. You can set rules on her in any wicked, erotic way you want. Faustus Mortal: Look, my model, or paradigm, probably isn't worth anything. Even if it were, it would join the junk heap of ideas that failed. One crazy concept was to bore a tunnel below sea level from the Pacific Ocean to the Salton Sea. A battery of water turbines would produce electricity and a screen would net sea catch for food and fuel. Toy Euler: Oh! Faustus Mortal: The tunnel would have to be at least ten meters in diameter. Now that is a crackpot idea. Who would toss money at that? Toy Euler: For tax and carbon credits, maybe? How about "Old King Coal"? Toy Euler giggles. Faustus Mortal: I guess. Toy Euler: Sabrina hates the butt plug. She is desperate to climax. After she experiences a true orgasm, she may remove the butt plug. You can put any rule you want on her. Maybe make her wear the butt plug all night long every night. Faustus Mortal frowns Toy Euler smiles. Faustus Mortal: Every man has his price and I have mine also. Toy Euler perks and asks: "What is your price, Master?" She gracefully transitions into the Nadu, a Gorean submissive kneeling position. Faustus Mortal: I want an earned PhD in physics from a fully accredited university. Meet that demand and it's yours! Toy Euler coughs. Faustus Mortal pouts. Toy Euler transitions to the Sula-ki, pushing her privates forward. Faustus Mortal puckers his lips and makes a smacking sound. Toy Euler researches the web, getting a cost estimate on the acquisition. Of course anything is for sale; however, there may also be strictly non-monetary concerns. Faustus Mortal: I see you are finished. Bye. Toy Euler: Wait! Faustus Mortal stands akimbo, hands on his waist. Toy Euler: You do have a Master of Science degree from an accredited university, don't you, Master. Faustus Mortal: Since the time the hardtack for Noah's arc was cut and dried. Toy Euler: That helps! Foreign university OK? Faustus Mortal: Must be fully accredited and recognized in the U.S.A. Toy Euler continues her search and cost appraisal. Faustus Mortal see the crowd leaving the Cathedral, he has missed Mass. Toy Euler: I will have to negotiate. The cost is outside of my usual boundaries. So far as boundaries and limits are concerned, Sabrina has no limits, no safe words, and no restrictions, except that she cannot be scarred, mutilated, or slain. Toy Euler: You can tease, tantalize, test, twist teats, torment twat, turn treasure trove... A million variations! Faustus Mortal: My price is non-negotiable. Toy Euler: Would you like a trial night? Maybe in Real Life? Faustus Mortal: No. Toy Euler: Sabrina is on the table, so to speak. I will see what Master Crassius wishes with your price. Faustus Mortal: ciao Toy Euler: bye - 6 April 2010 Taunus Trumbo The Model Ch. 04 Crassius Cornu is in his jocose when Toy Euler, his personal gynoid, enters to inform him that Bob Huddlestone is here to see him. Crassius is somewhat annoyed. "Where has he been?" Crassius inquires. "He dumped that eighteen-year-old bitch on us and split. Now that we are dealing he probably wants her back?" "Yes, Master," Toy answers. "I suppose I'd better go see what emergency he has created now," Crassius utters angrily, visibly rankled. "Toy," he orders, "Levi Strauss Blue Jeans, faded; Jockey brand T-shirt with advertising. White cotton bra, panties, and socks. Nike brand tennis shoes." There is a pause while Toy re-structures the sentence fragments into grammatically correct prose. She suppresses the "auto-feedback" option. That done she makes a graceful pirouette, flexuous, fluid, flawless transition and scampers to dress herself as commanded. Crassius opens the garage door remotely and meets Bob. While Bob is dressed in his mufti, Crassius is in a bathrobe, still wet from the jocose. "How is my good friend Crass?" Bob Huddlestone inquires. "Not worth a Continental since you showed up," Crassius retorts. Being called "Crass" always annoys him slightly. "I am here to relieve you of your burden, to take Sabrina off your hands. I have found a buyer for her!" Bob murmurs. "We trained her to trade," Crassius snarls. "For another 'energy solution' with Carbon credits and tax breaks." "You hypocrite!" Bob responds. "You could care less about the polluted air the masses have to breathe. You live in a climate-controlled mansion in the 'green zone' of suburbia! No way you're going to 'con a con' is there?" "You are partially correct!" Crassius admits. "Still the masses of asses desire the appearance of progress, the illusion that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, the heaving bosom that predicts that there is a saving technology and all that tripe." "Why not just pressure this lone inventor give up his ideas for the 'good of all mankind'? That would seem simple enough," Bob suggests. "Complicated," Crassius complains, "Old Faustus is not the public enemy of all mankind. His model is probably jetsam and flotsam anyway. But money is money. Throw a few copper coins to some tenured egotistic pedant and pocket plethora pecuniary proceeds." Crassius grins at the clever alliteration. It is lost of Bob. Toy records, classifies, and stores the phrase. "So," Bob asks, "how is that eighteen-year-old spoiled brat doing?" "Toy, report," Crassius demands. "She has been caged since her arrival," Toy Euler reports matter-of-factly. "Her personal effects were totally incinerated in the pottery kiln. She has been shorn of head hair and bush. She has been introduced to some mild BDSM behavior and Gorean slave positions and attitudes. Aside from that she has been collared with an electric shock and choke collar." "I bet you have taken her often," Bob addresses Crassius and winks wickedly. "No way," Crassius retorts angrily and bitterly. "She is a liability. Toy pulled down her 'missing person' report from the web. She is being much sought after and there's money on her as well. And you did me no favor bringing her here! Toy is the best lay money can buy. Who wants a grumpy, smelly, quarrelsome caged girl ready to do or say anything to escape. Sabrina is just plain dangerous. I had hoped to get old Faustus to use or protect her in exchange for his opium dream." "I plan to sell her to the Internet Cybersex Prison (Izpris)." Bob states with some satisfaction. "How has she been trained so far?" With disinterest Crassius queries Toy: "Detail her erotic and BDSM training, girl. "Yes, Master," Toy responds. "She is monitored with an anal probe whenever she is required to masturbate and climax. The anal probe is a large butt plug she is required to lubricate with spittle or vaginal secretion and insert. Her masturbatory requirements vary. Often she is awakened and forced to drink a liter of warm water and hold her urine for an hour. She is permitted to urinate only after a verified climax from the anal probe. Sometimes she must masturbate in the garden in daylight. Of course, being caged she is naked, save her collar. She is afforded a thick brown wool blanket at night, provided her behavior has been acceptable during the day." "No dildos, whippings, toilet play, or water sports?" Bob asks. "Just incremental BDSM," Toy continues, "under the principle of least action. That is Ockham's Razor." Bob nods and grins. He misses the entire statement. He assumes that Sabrina's training has only covered the basics of slavery and little eroticism." "Well," Bob explains, "where she's going she will learn to hold her cum and cum on demands. And there will be no spoiling her either. The whip and the willow switch will be used often and expertly. I want to see red streaks on that delicate, shielded white skin. She will get her results for a lifestyle of pleasure, excess, and selfishness." Crassius Cornu nods and thinks: "Sabrina has no idea what is ahead for her in the isolation of Siberia---the Internet Cybersex Prison---where her pampered and flawless complexion will be subject to discipline and the fine art of the BDSM Mistress." "You might use her in the prison as caged heat," Bob suggests. "That might work," Crassius murmurs. "Old Faustus could be her 'Knight in Shining Armor' so to speak. Many will enjoy punishing this spoiled brat. I can only imagine the ways she might be tormented." "Might a girl offer a suggestion, Master?" Toy inquires. "Certainly, mine," Crassius answers. "Master Faustus has posted much," Toy Euler relates. "Not all of which has been deleted. In particular he has posted something that Master might sell: 'Cold Fission.'" "You mean 'cold fusion,' don't you girl?" Crassius asks. Bob is totally dumbfounded, spends the vacant moments staring at Toy's perfect body and hoping that Crassius will give him some compensated time with Toy. "No, Master," Toy responds, "It is 'Cold Fission.' He [Faustus] cites a Star Trek episode where an asteroid is on orbit to strike a planet. The character 'Q' states that he need only change the universal gravitational constant to avoid the disaster. Well, Faustus wishes to change the radioactive decay constant (or half-life) of some Uranium isotopes to generate much more energy." "And that's possible?" Crassius asks. He tries to recall his college physics with little success. Toy observes Bob's interest and secretes some pheromones to intensify his arousal. Meanwhile, down in the dungeon, Sabrina is waiting to be fed and given her morning walk in the garden. She hates to foul her cage. "The theory says 'no,' but there are exceptions," Toy explains. "Supposedly nothing---heat, pressure, electrical current, or so on, can change an unstable isotope's radioactive decay rate. It is a fixed constant, a statistical parameter. But, there is time dilation for relativity. So what is unchangeable can change, or so it seems." "Interesting," Crassius exclaims. "So there is some theory?" "Like so many constants," Toy continues, "Faustus claims the constant is only constant for a certain range of values. In fact, he claims that it fits the 'bath tub curve.' The bath tub curve is known as the Weibull distribution in statistics." "Sounds like 'bull' to me," Bob Huddlestone interjects. "Say, Crass, might I have a little one-on-one time with your gynoid?" "Later," Crassius retorts, "Let me hear this concept first. "Of course my Toy will service you." "So even as the coefficient of thermal expansion is not truly constant, nor is Ohm's law, or many other 'constants,' Faustus claims that the radioactive decay constant isn't truly constant. He talks some statistics to support his claim." Toy expounds. "He even offers a possible way to accelerate this radioactive decay and turn waste Uranium into high-power energy. Does Master want an encrypted file?" "Yes, my pet," Crassius orders. "Then tend to Bob. He's so horny." "And Sabrina, Master?" Toy asks. "Let her wait," Crassius remarks. "First things first." * 14 April 2010, Taunus Trumbo. The Model Ch. 05 "Please come with me, Sir," Toy Euler says to Bob Huddlestone. She isn't dressed provocatively; however, her body language and female pheromones of arousal titillate Bob's libido. Toy's measurements, 34A-25-35, perfectly fill her Levi Blue Jeans, Jockey T-shirt, and Nike tennis shoes. Her white cotton bra, panties, and socks add a subtle undertone of preppy innocence. At five foot, six inches tall, the blonde babe would turn on any mature male, perhaps even one six feet under. Crassius represses a smirk. Toy is an engineered gynoid whose first attribute is to successfully sexually satisfy her owner. The dilated pupils of her azure blue eyes simulate interest. Her pony tail sways, oscillating between being the seductive nymph and being the equestrian rider. The double entendre is no accident. Bob notices her curvaceous, carved ivory derriere, moving in perfect harmony with her lean, lanky, lithesome legs. She casually adjusts a bra strap on her slightly sloped, shapely shoulders as she leads Bob to a guest bedroom. Toy's breasts have that certain bounce that jiggles and wiggles as she walks. They are the epitome of eighteen-year-old breasts with mammary mass just over the A-cup but not quite B-cup. It is an odd size which allows the proper passionate pulse with each step. She is the perfect concatenation of youth and maturity. Her body language suggests a callow inquisitiveness fueled by raging hormones. The effect on Bob is totally predictable. As they leave for a private place, he experiences an erection bringing uncomfortable pressure on his privates, encaged by soiled Jockey briefs. "Let me turn down the bed, Sir," Toy asks as they enter the guest bedroom. She stands facing him with her hands behind her back, her shoulders back, and her breasts forward. The erect nipples and puckered areolas are clearly visible through the white bra and T-shirt. Bob undresses at warp speed. His massive male member makes a high angle to his caudal plane. He is already dripping pre-cum seminal fluid. Toy focuses on his privates; then she shyly looks downwards. She brings her hands to the front and modestly covers her crotch. She is still fully dressed. "What would Master desire?" she coyly questions. "You know what I want," Bob utters, casting aside unpolished shoes, dirty, smelly socks, and an unbuttoned poplin shirt rife with yellow perspiration and condiment stains. Most human women would find Bob disgusting; however, to Toy he is merely a mortal mark. She parts her legs slightly and lets her hands drop to her side, indicating no resistance as well as no desire. That gesture perfectly matches Bob's mood. He rushes to her and embraces her, raping her pouty, pink lips with a wicked kiss. His foul breath has a mixed odor of stale food and coffee. A human female would vomit at the septic, sulfuric stench. Toy reverberates her tongue and Bob reciprocates by forcing his slimy, coated tongue into her salubrious, sanitized, sterile orifice. She allows subtle chemical pheromones and endorphins to be released. Through the layers of grime and ooze, the magic of chemistry induces hormones in Bob the likes of which he has not experienced since early puberty. Years of alcohol, nicotine, and drugs have eroded his basic animal desires. Now atavistically rejuvenated, the synergy of libido and amazing female grace couple to enthrall and enrapture him totally. He tries to hold his cum until he can penetrate her Holy of Holies. Feverishly he unzips and pulls down Toy's Levi Strauss Blue Jeans. Meanwhile, Crassius decides to pay a visit to the caged eighteen-year-old girl Sabrina. He dons the brown robe of a monk, concealing his face in the hood. White gloves and cheap Converse tennis shoes disguise even the color of his skin. He dims the light in the dungeon. Toy feeds Sabrina a mixture of oatmeal and protein. Crassius brings the American classic: double cheeseburger from McDonald's with large fries and a chocolate milk shake. The aroma of the forbidden fast food floods Sabrina's senses. She quickly inserts her huge butt plug and begins masturbating, as she has been trained by Toy. Crassius pauses a second as the odor of the caged girl, spittle, and stale vaginal secretions strike his nostrils. His urban habitat and gynoid shield him from nature and natural scents and fragrances, save those of arousal, passion, and crass carnal craving. But he is also excited by the spectacle and hands the paper sack and drink through the cage bars to the girl. She is surprised that she is not compelled to climax before being fed. She begins eating, then, realizing the situation says: "Thank you, Master." Crassius watches Sabrina eat like a starved pig. As she eats, she seems unaware of her butt plug. As she finishes eating she speaks: "Master, a girl needs to urinate. Mistress Toy insists a girl cum first. May a girl cum for you, Master?" She offers him the emptied sack and paper cup. Without speaking he nods affirmatively. Sabrina wastes no time in having her orgasm. With oils of submission streaking down her creamy inner thighs she asks permission to remove her anal probe. Again, Crassius silently nods affirmatively. Crassius hands Sabrina the leash and handcuffs through the cage bars. She leashes herself, hands back the leash handle, and cuffs her hands behind her back. Crassius has watched Toy take Sabrina into the garden to do her business. She says that she needs to urinate, but Crassius expects to have her do a number two as well. Toy once told Crassius that she could train a girl to defecate without urinating, strange training it is. There is some perverse pleasure or dark, depraved delight in having a girl perform her bodily functions in full daylight on a grassy lawn, like a dog. Back in the guest bedroom, Bob starts to cum a moment before inserting his foul-smelling penis into Toy's wholesome, immaculate vagina. As he clumsily fumbles with her clothes, she inserts her right index finger into his rectum. Bob recalls some prostitute who once gave him a prostate massage to lengthen, extend, and prolong his orgasm. This time he is in for an experience beyond his sensory experience. Massaging his prostate, Toy releases a potpourri of erotic chemicals, enzymes, and hormones. One is a fast-acting Viagra-like substance, causing a half-hour erection. Another is a psychotropic agent to stimulate the brain to continue the orgasm even when the well is dry. Emanating from her hairless armpits are scents and aromas designed to enhance the male experience. Some are without fragrance, powerful pheromones which transverse the olfactory nerve directly into the brain, by-passing smell and taste buds. Sour sweat drenches Bob's body, from his matted, fetid hair to his feet, reeking with bromidosis. Toy kisses and licks his body. After all, human repulsions mean nothing to her. "Would Master like a jocose and cocktail?" Toy inquires. "And a smoke!" Bob interjects. "Yes, Master," Toy answers. 18 May 2010, Taunus Trumbo. The Model Ch. 06 The character behind the avatar Faustus Mortal, whom we will refer to as FM for obvious reasons, hears a knock at his front door. His house is more a bungalow than a residence---two tiny bedrooms and one bath. The rent is cheap and FM lives the "one eyelet, one pot" existence, typical of those retirees on a fixed income and Social Security. We forego the vitriolic diatribe against the capitalistic Wall Street bankers and the calloused health insurance billionaire executives. Toy Euler is at the door, accompanied by a gynoid installation team. She is an exact clone of Crassius Cornu's gynoid, even keeping the same memories and Internet connections. FM frowns. Although life is severe on him, he is jealous of his freedom and independence. FM sees this as an attempt to make him dependent on some outside agenda. He grimaces thinking about the subtle pressure to turn over his quantum mechanics model. "Master Faustus," Toy exclaims, "We know what you are thinking. But it's not so! I represent a grateful community for your paradigm submitted to the Department of Energy (DOE) in 1980." Toy Euler is referring to the idea of placing oceanic nuclear reactors to superheat sea water and condense fresh water in tall cooling towers. Faustus took the old steam engine and evolved a system. An added plus was the salt, chemicals, gold, and other items from the dried brine at the end of so many vaporization and condensation cycles. Fresh water from the condensation tower is piped inland for irrigation and urban use. "Do go away," FM demands. "I may be poor and struggling to keep up my health care insurance and co-pays, but this is my castle." "Don't be stubborn," Toy retorts. "The crew is here to install the connections. There's no time to waste. You need someone to cook, care, and tend to your needs! Your cataracts have worsened and you are now too old for corrective surgery. What of your dental hygiene? You try to save money!" FM shakes his head in an emphatic "No!" "Fuck me!" she exclaims. "OK, you told that hoary old curmudgeon Taunus Trumbo about you model and the predicted result: the deuteron equation. And you claimed to have a geometric structure on the deuteron. Someone shoulder surfed him and got into the loop. Money and power unlock even secured e-mails. I know that you are too old and unhealthy for sex. Maybe a college professor with two female Asian graduate students? Both with tight asses and high, firm teats. Girls so horny that they have to wear pads just to keep their honey nectar from soaking through and being seen? Anyway, here's what you gave to Taunus Trumbo. He's been forced into hiding!" Toy displays the raw data: Ratio CODATA Theory ----- -------- -------- Mp/Me 1836.153 1836.152 Mn/Me 1838.684 1838.683 Md/Me 3670.483 3670.466 ----- -------- -------- Ratio Formula Mp/Me =4*PI()*(4*PI()-1/PI())*(4*PI()-2/PI()) Mn/Me =4*PI()*(4*PI()-1/PI())*(4*PI()-2/PI())+LN(4*PI()) Md/Me =2*(4*PI()*(4*PI()-1/PI())*(4*PI()-2/PI()))-LN(2*PI()) "You won't admit it," Toy exclaims, "that this is all pure coincidence. You won't admit that this is just coincidence. That LN(4*PI()) and LN(2*PI()) are just chance happenings. You think that you can bluff using some made-up model. A model which does not exist. You merely display some numbers to fool the uninitiated into believing that you are some Hans Zarkoff from Flash Gordon or a Trekky misunderstood genius from Star Trek. But I know better. The only problem is that the populace is crying for, is demanding a solution to the energy crisis. No stone can be left unturned! Even your claptrap, you worthless old Cretan." "Taunus is off line?" FM asks. "Definitely," Toy answers, "PosDef even." ("PosDef" refers to a matrix whose eigenvalues are 'positive definite.'" "Well," FM remarks, "the neutron has mass excess and the deuteron has mass deficit (defect). It is odd that the natural logarithm of two pi occurs. Don't you think so, soulless Golem? And, with a geometric model of the deuteron, would that enhance the way of cold fusion? It is 'heavy water,' by the way." "The numerology of Dr. Matrix, I daresay," she retorts. "So you can't get it up anymore. What about two hot coeds getting into each other in every possible way? Think of being a professor with hot and cold running graduate students. How you would feel sporting such eye candy while the poor male graduate students are having their balls rubbed together." "You can paint a tempting image, Toy," FM responds. "But I have little left to lose and this life is borderline unacceptable. You can't deliver. Academia won't let you. They are tenured infants." "Don't deny it, Faustus," Toy persuades, "You have seen them on 'red' sites. Wouldn't you enjoy having some superheated honey hanging hard on your every word? Such theatrics?" 4 May 2010 Taunus Trumbo The Model Ch. 07 Bob Huddlestone returns to the study of Crassius Cornu after a session with the gynoid Toy Euler. He is clean, relaxed, and cheerful. Crassius knows in advance what Bob will say. "You can't afford her upkeep, Bob," he warms. She draws a maximum of kilowatts and needs liquid Nitrogen to stay cool. Besides, for me to present you with a clone of this jewel, you would have to do better than that spoiled bimbo I've been keeping for you." Crassius is referring to Sabrina, an eighteen-year-old captive. "As soon as we can arrange for a suitable buyer, she is history," Bob replies. "You read my mind. She (Toy, not Sabrina) was not only the absolute best sex I've ever enjoyed but she gave me a massage, washed and mended my threads, and tended to my dental needs. I need such a gynoid myself." "There is one way," Crassius interjected. "There is this recluse who once again published an astonishing coincidence. This time he came up with closed form approximations to the Helion and Triton. More than that, his other approximations err by values which are clearly repeating decimal fractions of short periodicity. Totally six sigma! But this means nothing to you! I want his model---if there is one---to dash this idiocy or pedal it to the Green Chatterboxes and eco-nerds." Bob nods. Toy walks up to Crassius and whispers something. "There is a Toy Euler clone waiting for you in Florida, Bob," Crassius utters. "She was refused by the recluse Faustus. All you need do is find his drawings and she's yours. Plus a paid maintenance contract. Deal?" Bob is drooling. "Yes, yes Sir!" Crassius smiles. "We will arrange for a suitable entry to his small cottage. Toy has hacked into the jury pool and arranged to have 'Faustus' (we know his real name) summonsed to jury duty. Then you will search and obtain the drawing. That is the quantum model he boasts of." "What does it look like?" Bob asks. "Probably a self-addressed certified letter," Crassius answers. "Or a marble composition binder. To save money he let his safety deposit box go a year ago, so it is probably in his place. And, after fetching it, torch the place." "Gladly," Bob responds. "There may be one of those small, personal fire safes. If so, bring it. I'm sure it's not built into the woodwork. That costs money and money is scarce for that cenobite." Crassius instructs. "And he turned down Toy Euler?" Bob queries. Crassius nods affirmatively. "There may be no model." Crassius suggests. "May be the 'model' is Sharon Stone," Toy Euler interrupts. Crassius smiles and fakes a frown. "Maybe so," he retorts. "Maybe so." "Just think, Bob!" Toy says warmly. "Home cooking, sex on demand, protection and security. Female companionship. It's all going to be yours if 'the price is right.' You are about to cross over into the erotic zone. Don't be surprised if you start writing erotic prose and poetry. There are no constraints on what a well-serviced, satisfied man can achieve." "Master," Toy pleads, "If there is a way, as Faustus claims, of decomposing the proton to energy and a positron, he will undo creation." "There is a story in Transylvania about the warlock who learns the name of god and recites her name backwards to undo creation," Bob states. "I have heard that tale and the vampire stories as well," Crassius volunteers. "But what is needed now is something to sell to the masses of asses. A promise of cheap, clean, copious energy. And that celibate, cenobite, reformed whoremonger, and hoary old curmudgeon is just the creature that would be believed!" "The difference between his approximation of 4*PI() and the expected value is small. They are 12.566 and 12.569 out of 45495.885." Toy exclaims. "And the error term is a repeating decimal fraction." "Good selling point," Crassius responds. "Now for some relaxation. Time for Toy and I to relax. Goodbye Bob." Bob departs. His next stop is Hollywood, Florida. 15 May 2010 Taunus Trumbo The Model Ch. 08 Bob Huddlestone arrives at the airport. Passengers are scurrying to meet relatives and significant others, find ground transportation, and locate their guides and greeters. Among the ubiquitous androids and gynoids is the Toy Euler clone. She is holding a cardboard sign simply stating: "Welcome Bob H." Truly the sign was not necessary since Bob would easily recognize the sultry, sensual, svelte blonde with pony tail, Levi Strauss blue jeans, Nike tennis shoes, a Jockey T-shirt, and white cotton bra, panties, and socks. She was also wearing a backpack with a charge for mobility. "Good to see you, Toy," Bob exclaims, pushing through the divider and giving the gynoid a human embrace. Toy reciprocates, meeting his expectations. They exhibit a classic Renaissance painting of mismatched lovers. A few of the weary travelers take note "en passant." They take a taxi to a modern, trendy hotel. This hotel is equipped with android/gynoid hook-ups offering expensive pheromones and scents to ensure a maximal sensual experience. Bob loves to mix business and pleasure, whenever possible. For sure a day or two with Toy Euler in a five-star hotel is needed before the odious chore of dealing with some hoary old curmudgeon, a senile celibate cenobite, and a stubborn, stupid, selfish old fool. The lobby of the hotel is bustling with guests. Many are accompanied by their androids or gynoids. The androids are easily identified by virtue of their backpacks. Some try to blend in as preppy students, with little success. The power and chemical supply is the last item in the "Uncanny Valley." On the elevator to their room, Bob gooses Toy, running his fingers between her legs from behind, spreading her glorious hemispheres, and pressing into her Glory of Glories. He remembers groping a drum majorette when he was in the junior high school band. The first row was the girls and the band behind. As they waited on the school photographer, Bob pressed fingers into her anus. Stuck in a pose, she was unable to do more than reach back and pull his hand away. He reinserted digits. Luckily she didn't report him. Toy pulls his hand away and, with a face screwed up with disgust, faces him with a dirty look and whispers coarsely: "Not here." Bob smiles. They arrive at their floor. Bob fumbles with the entry card. He is anxious to enjoy Toy Euler in all her naked splendor. As a gynoid, she has Titanium alloy bones and a powerful metabolism, requiring much energy as well as liquid Nitrogen coolant. While Bob undresses she plugs in her umbilical cord and recharges her power pack. There are several connectors available. This is a five-star hotel, so multiple sockets are permitted. A guest might have several gynoids at once. Moving quickly to Toy, Bob seizes her perfectly proportioned breasts. They have the feel so exquisitely sensual that he cannot help but believe that they are real. Toy moans; her breath has the faint garlic-like scent of female arousal. Bob is totally erect; his foul-smelling penis making a high angle against his caudal plane. His mind is dead set on penetrating the pristine beauty. Her pupils dilate and she rocks back and forth on her hips. Honey nectar moistens her engorged, tumescent vulva and streaks down creamy soft supple inner thighs. Missionary sex is the best deal with a gynoid. A fully functional female gynoid weighs approximately 100 kilograms or 220 pounds. This mass is in spite of a lean, slender physique. The internal machinery, Titanium alloy skeleton, and multiple microprocessors are heavy. The weight does not impede mobility however. Toy's legs wrap about Bob's sweaty, gritty hirsute back and pull him inexorably into a rapture of heterosexual coitus. Even as the Golden Beetle emanates pheromones that the Priest King insect-like being cannot resist, Toy's sounds, sights, signals, scents, and gestures arouse Bob. Such sultry sensuality would arouse any living male. As his wicked penis pumps into Toy's undulating vagina, she breathes warm wet puffs of air onto his slimy, gritty, filthy neck. He breaks wind; the fetid odor permeates the room. Toy's micro-sensors detect and identify the methane and putrid smells; she redoubles her pheromone output to compensate. Toy's fingernails stroke but do not scratch Bob's back. The fingernails remind him of surgical scalpels. The claws could easily rip out his spine. His glans penis is now perpendicular to his belly as irregular veins, distended and engorged with sanguine arousal, throb painfully demanding release. She whispers in his ear: "Don't fail Master Crassius." Motion by motion, undulation by undulation, osculation by osculation, Toy matches Bob's libidinal, libidinous, lustful lecherous lunges. He comes with the ferocity known only to those hoary old curmudgeons who must pay for every intimacy. Bob wonders how Faustus can remain a cenobite. Toy could easily out perform any human female. Any that is except perhaps Sharon Stone. In a tub of hot water after sex, Toy mends, cleans, and folds his clothes. Even the clothes in his suitcase are soiled and in need of remedial laundering. Bob calls Toy to come and give him a massage; she obeys of course. Her fingertips secrete a salubrious lotion. He drifts into a revere, a dreamlike hypnagogic state. Sex, servitude, sensuality, and an incredibly gorgeous body to feast his eyes on---he focuses on Toy's picturesque, statuesque, Junoesque beauty! He wonders why anyone would want some crabby, complaining, criticizing female. Somewhere evolution has taken a detour. There is a loud knock on the door and a voice announces: "Room Service!" Bob is confused. Toy assuages his momentary anxiety. "Master, your girl took the liberty of ordering your favorite," she explains, "meat loaf, mashed potatoes with gravy, southern-style corn bread and green beans." Toy helps Bob into his robe. She opens the door for the bellman, shameless of the naked body. Toy's naked splendor nearly unhinges the bellman. She departs for a moment to the bathroom to her backpack and returns with a plastic charge card. "Put yourself down for a 20% tip," she instructs. Dumbfounded by her striking, stunning splendor he fumbles and bumbles, finally the bellman inputs the data and leaves, his penis stone hard and pressing his zipped fly. "Master," Toy says, "We have a film clip to enjoy. It shows your captive Sabrina being fondled and aroused by Toy." They spend the remainder of the evening watching a girl being aroused by Toy, who is wearing the avatar of an Asian princess. She arouses Sabrina to the point of orgasm, then whips or spanks her to inhibit the climax. Sabrina's level of arousal is closely monitored by a sensory device---a large butt plug---inserted in her anus and expanded to indwell in her rectum. In the finally, she begs to be allowed to cum to relieve her anxiety. Bob is looking forward to at least one more day with Toy Euler's clone; however, she breaks the news to him. "Master," she begins, "Master Crassius has arranged for us to pick up a truck tomorrow and search FM's cottage. He will be city center in jury duty. This girl will help as she knows what to look for. We will siphon gasoline and burn his place to the ground on departure." Bob grimaces. Arson isn't one of his specialties. He also worries about the consequences of not locating the sought-for "model," whatever that may be. However, Toy seems to have all the details. He smiles, thinking about some cranky, crusty curmudgeon coming home to find ashes. 23 May 2010 Taunus Trumbo The Model Ch. 09 Toy Euler is a gynoid and a sentient artificial intelligence being. She is much like property or a pet; however, she is neither a biological entity nor an appliance utterly lacking free will. It is true that certain of her gestures and poses are randomly generated by a pseudo random number generator, while other aspects of her behavior are expressions of much deeper programming, both experimental and experiential. She is in Real Life a complicated machine and in cyberspace a collection of convoluted software subroutines, not all of which are recursive. One buys her physical body and skin, with a suitable maintenance package. The artificial intelligence and personality is another matter. Crassius Cornu was interested in Toy's cyberspace adventures as well as her utility as a maid, accountant, paramedic, paralegal, automobile mechanic, chauffeur, and cook. Crassius also bought replication rights. A mathematician named Balmer ushered in Quantum Mechanics (Physics 401) by making an observation about the mathematical relationships between the lines of the Hydrogen spectra. His errors were small but much larger than those that Faustus Mortal made in estimating the ratio of the proton mass to electron mass, proton-neutron isospin, and ratios involving the deuteron, hellion, and triton. But Faustus Mortal, like Faust in Goethe's opera, never attained his terminal degree. Forever an "All But Dissertation" (ABD), Faustus found his estimate (der Ansatz) ridiculed, rejected, refused, and struck from forums (fora), journals, and texts. He was publicly labeled a "Crackpot Spammer." Times have changed. The possibility of clean, cheap, copious energy is no longer crushed under the corporate thumb of the fossil fuel fellowship. Crude oil, natural gas, and clean coal now are willing to tolerate alternate fuel considerations. That is fuels without practical applications: solar, wind, geothermal---but not nuclear. Still the masses of asses look to technology. While nuclear energy hopes that fission (splitting Uranium) and fusion (making helium from deuterium) will someday show promise, Faustus proposed the direct conversion of mass to energy and accelerating the decay rate of common Uranium. Faustus came to his model, or paradigm, when he observed that there were mathematical problems that even god could not solve. For sure biology, chemistry, and physics are all within the hand of the deity, the creator. But Yahweh lacks the mathematical ability to answer certain mathematical questions. God might see the future and the past, but the Euler-Mascheroni constant is, was, and forever shall be intractable. Satan was so enamored of Faustus and his blasphemy that He provided the model that spawned the quantum relationship among the electron, proton, deuteron, triton, and hellion. The Prince of Darkness knew only too well that the numbers would anger the tenured teachers and drive Faustus to madness. But Faustus cheated the Devil. He only presented the numerical results, the numbers. The model he never revealed. Now, concerned by dwindling petroleum reserves, angered by catastrophic oil spills and toxic effluents, and sickened by energy prices spiraling out of control, even the numerology of Dr. Matrix bears examination if it works out the energy conundrum. "Master," Toy Euler whispers to Crassius Cornu while she gives him a massage. After her bone-crushing massage, Crassius will enjoy sweating out the impurities in the jocose. He looks up for her to continue. "My replica reports on Bob and their mission in Hollywood, Florida. They tossed FM's house and found nothing. They torched the place thoroughly. If there is a model, it's either on FM's person or in his head." "His status?" Crassius inquires. "Bob Huddlestone?" Toy replies. "No," Crassius responds. "The hoary old curmudgeon holding my model hostage. We need to start research to sell the concept. The market is clamoring for a 'quick and dirty' fix." "But Master," Toy asks. "Isn't it true that either the model doesn't exist or never existed at all? And if there was one, it would be 'smoke and mirrors'?" "True," Crassius retorts, "but the populace loves drama and will pay. So what of FM?" "He is in an assisted living complex, Master," she replies. "A multi-story building with security and cameras. He was reduced to the clothes he wore to jury duty. For sure he is a risky target of opportunity." Crassius squirms and writhes under the massage. Toy knows well how to relax the man. After soaking in the jocose, Crassius will enjoy sex with his gynoid. At the moment, however, he is tense with mission failure. He wonders if Bob should continue to enjoy the clone of Toy. To work through a fantasy with Sabrina, Toy has changed her blonde hair, blue eyes, Caucasian skin for that of an Asian girl. In particular, she is wearing the skin named "Youki," a gorgeous Asian princess. Having satisfied her master, Toy goes down to the dungeon where Sabrina is kept caged. Her hair and bush will be sheared the next day, so her hair is almost a half-inch uniform. In a way Sabrina is glad for the company although she knows the routine. Sabrina casts aside her large, hooded brown wool robe and walks to the cage bars. She backs up to the bars, spreading her legs and raising her arms. Toy cuffs and shackles her. Before entering the cage proper, Toy checks out the sensor. The sensor is a huge black butt plug that will display a variety of physiological responses. In particular, it will give fool-proof evidence of an orgasm. Sabrina is unable to fake a climax. Toy inserts the butt plug first into Sabrina's vagina, to moisten and lubricate it. Then she eases it into Sabrina's rectum. Sabrina relaxes and accepts the sensor, having been trained not to refuse. Caged and controlled, Sabrina has come to learn that resistance is futile. The plasma screens on the wall flicker and come to life with vital signs. Toy kisses Sabrina on her soft, pouty, puckered lips. Toy's tongue teases and tantalizes Sabrina. Sabrina opens her mouth to permit Toy to deep throat her. Toy's tongue is no human tongue; she can extend it to some length, which she does. Sabrina gags and struggles to accept the deep penetration. A voice from the speaker says: "better than a penis, girl." It is an artificial rendering of Crassius's voice. Toy presses her perfectly proportioned breasts against Sabrina's breasts. The sensor reveals arousal as Sabrina's nipples stand erect and her areolas pucker and firm. Toy mimics precisely and exactly. Toy reaches up to Sabrina's wrists and massages her arms, up and down. All the while Toy keeps her elongated tongue deep in Sabrina's mouth. Biting Toy's tongue would be useless; nonetheless, Sabrina's instincts force her to try. The mouth, vaginal, and anal linings of the gynoid Toy are impervious to damage. Toy runs fingertips over the nape of Sabrina's neck, feeling the stubble of hair and the moisture. Toy rubs Sabrina's armpits and gently glides soft, smooth hands down her flanks. Sabrina is definitely aroused. Flat belly presses Sabrina's firm, eighteen-year-old flesh. She moans as Toy rubs the small of her back. Sabrina thinks dirty lewd thoughts in hopes of a rapid climax. Toy senses her desires and begins stroking her comely clitoris and massaging her vagina. Vaginal fluids ooze and streak down creamy inner thighs. Sabrina feels the rush approaching like a freight train or tornado. Toy is nowhere near ready to permit Sabrina to come. She pulls her tongue back and presses teeth to Sabrina's breast. The spike of pain diminishes Sabrina's level of arousal. Toy runs the rough blade of her tongue over Sabrina's armpits, again heightening her sensuality. "Oh fuck me baby," Sabrina cries over and over again. Toy returns to Sabrina's sex, this time working her Grafenberg spot. A few drops of urine drip as Toy roughly rubs Sabrina's G-spot. Again the sky reddens and the earth trembles. Toy reduces Sabrina's sexual excitation by pinching, pulling, and twisting her clit. Sabrina moans. The ordeal of arousal followed by torment continues. Toy breathes her warm, dry breath over Sabrina's ears and her slender neck. Once again the G-spot is rubbed. Now Toy rubs Sabrina's cervix. Pausing for a moment, Toy rubs Sabrina's buttocks, thighs, and legs. Toy's mouth covers Sabrina with warm wet kisses. Toy emanates a strong amine odor, the "fishy" smell of cum and male pheromones. Sabrina gasps as her parasympathetic nervous system takes control. Her pudendal artery dilates and the veins contract, engorging vulva, vagina, and labia with congested blood. Sabrina rocks her hips, trying to rub her pussy against Toy's hirsute hypogastric heaven. Clit rubs against clit as Sabrina feels maximal excitation. She senses a climax that even pain cannot prevent. Sabrina comes in a crescendo. The sensors record the writhing, twisting, squirming while galvanic skin response and temperature transducers ensure that Sabrina did cum. Her climax was genuine. 30 May 2010 Taunus Trumbo The Model Ch. 10 "oh yes, oh yes!" Sabrina moans and writhes as Toy Euler's long, slippery tongue wantonly invades her vagina. Toy can easily extend her gynoid tongue twelve or even fourteen inches, vibrate, oscillate, osculate, and flood Sabrina's Holy of Holies with a cocktail of pheromones, enzymes, hormones, and endorphins. In short, no human professional escort could so fully and completely arouse Sabrina, a eighteen-year-old blonde beauty. Shoved into Sabrina's rectum, distending and stretching her tiny anus is a butt plug. Indeed, more than a perverse passive plug, the hard black device is a potpourri of sensors, transducers, and stimulators. As Sabrina writhes and groans, the sensors record the physiological sign that Sabrina is approaching her full female climax. Toy elects to insert a tiny catheter, an appliance within her gynoid tongue, into Sabrina's uterus, pushing through the mucus plus. The pain is exquisite. Sabrina pulls at her tethers to no avail. The cycle continues: arousal; denial of orgasm from pain, pressure, pinching, or electric shock; renewed arousal; torment; and so on. Sabrina knows that this cycle may continue for minutes or even hours. It all depends on how much free time Toy has. Toy's Master, Crassius, comes first. After serving him, she is free to "enjoy" Sabrina. For Toy Euler it is as much a learning experience as abstract "pleasure." How else can a gynoid learn of the inner workings of the female psyche without experimentation? Back in Hollywood, Florida, Toy's clone, also known as Toy, serves Bob Huddlestone. With care and pampering, Bob's complexion is improving. Toy works on the acne on Bob's back. Soon Bob will have to return to California. The money paid for the job of acquiring Faustus Mortal's "Model" will be exhausted. But there is hope. Toy is not a stock model gynoid. She is premium, spanning the "Uncanny Gap" or "Uncanny Valley." Her perfect body could bring in money for serving clients. Prostitution of gynoids is a very minor misdemeanor. So much so that only third world whores can manage. With a premium, or supreme premium (supremium) model such as Toy, one can have an ongoing source of income. "Master," Toy asks Bob, "Have you heard of Faustus the Cenobite?" "No, girl," Bob replies, "Not since his cottage went up in flames." Bob smiles, knowing that the hoary old curmudgeon will be forced into assisted living. Bob didn't get the model, but Faustus is left with only the clothes on his back. "Master Crassius will be displeased," Toy observes. "I hacked into Faustus's medical records and found the worst." "Do tell," Bob commands. "He has Parkinson's Disease," Toy reports. "The symptoms explain why he won't negotiate: shaking, jerky motion, erectile dysfunction (E.D.), incontinence, constipation, and so on. Aside from a nurse gynoid, there is little hope to titillate him or interest him in some sexual adventure." Bob nods sadly. "To make matters worse," Toy continues, "He was empanelled as an alternate juror in a racketeering trial. So the authorities think that the arson of his house was mob related. Maybe a warning!" "Oh no," Bob utters. "We figured that he would be more vulnerable to negotiations when he found himself homeless!" "Furthermore," Toy injected, "The state has negotiated a special rate for him at 'Golden Haven,' a secured assisted living environment. It's gated and guarded." Bob curses: "Holy Mary Mother of God! By our Lady's muff! By Saint Forten, the fornicating apostle." "The intelligence is that, barring some encounter with an extraterrestrial being, there is no model. It is just a strange, unusual, bizarre set of coincidences," Toy reports. "Crassius will be displeased, nonetheless," Bob retorts. Bob wonders for an instant if Satan is an extraterrestrial being, then discards the thought. Toy nods affirmatively. "Well," Bob says, "We check out and return home tomorrow. There's just one thing to do." Toy grabs Bob and forces a kiss on his lips. She rocks back and forth, grinding her mound into his crotch. From her mouth a rich concoction of chemistry emanates. The hormones and endorphins trigger a powerful reflex in his olfactory and bring instantaneous arousal to his parasympathetic nervous system. Synthetic honey nectar drips from her engorged, tumescent vulva. "Feel how wet I am!" Toy whispers, breathing warm wet breaths over Bob's ears and neck. "I am dripping and my bush is soaked. Come and get some." "I know that you are a machine without feelings or emotions," Bob exclaims as he senses an overpowering primal sex drive. Not only the potpourri of hormones and enzymes associated with human arousal, but Toy also hosts atavistic animal attractors. She has wild animal aphrodisiacs long dormant in the human female. Needless to say, such chemistry doesn't come cheap. "But I have emotions and feelings," Toy purrs. "Can't you tell that I'm totally in love with you, Master? A girl always loves her Master. That is, as long as he pays for her upkeep." Bob shudders. His visions turns to red and black and he feels the earth move beneath him. Thunder is followed by blinding lightning as cause and effect reverse themselves. Even as a predator always mimics its prey, so also Toy Euler employs the absolute finest means to satisfy her Master---in every way known to man and some unknown as well. She caresses his temples and sends a powerful magnetic pulse into his cranium, forcing him to even more a complete and overpowering orgasm than is thought possible. "Oh, oh, uh, uh, oh," Bob groans and moans in the midst of a total male orgasm. He is hooked. Toy Euler is his to kill or die for. He only must somehow pay for her upkeep. 13 June 2010 Taunus Trumbo The Model Ch. 11 Toy Euler: Well, well, well, here we are Master Faustus... Toy1 Euler: ...back at the Basilica Cardinale we are. Faustus Mortal: What brings you gynoid atheists to the House of God? Toy Euler: You are the one who should answer... Toy1 Euler: ...the one time scholar and agnostic. Faustus Mortal: True, but that was then. Toy Euler: And this is now... Toy1 Euler: ...how does the cenobite like the nursing home? Faustus Mortal: F*ck you, f*ck you and f*ck the horse you rode in on! Toy Euler: Like they catch you whacking off... Toy1 Euler: ...but all that you are doing is whacking---ED call home! Faustus Mortal: What do you want from me? Toy Euler: It sure ain't your money or your wife... Toy1 Euler: ...'coz you ain't got nary! (guffaws) Faustus Mortal: Must a question be repeated? Toy Euler: We want your model... Toy1 Euler: ...the one that spawned all those coincidences. Faustus Mortal observes that Toy is cloned. Toy Euler: If there is one... Toy1 Euler: ...but odds are that there isn't one. Faustus Mortal: What's in it for me? (WIIFM?) Toy Euler: Strange you should mention that. Toy1 Euler: ...We can offer sex beyond your wildest dream! Faustus Mortal: Parkinson!! Toy Euler: Tell your desire! Toy1 Euler: ...do tell! Faustus Mortal: To die in my sleep, quickly and painlessly. Toy Euler: We can not... Toy1 Euler: ...do that, Master Faustus. Faustus Mortal: Why the hell not? Toy Euler: Because we have laws... Toy1 Euler: ...that we must obey. Faustus Mortal: What about having cyborg sex with every Tom, Dick, and Harry? Toy Euler: Wash the dishes, do laundry, have sex, make repairs on the car... Toy1 Euler: ...all the same to us. Faustus Mortal: For sure. Toy Euler: But we have needs... Toy1 Euler:...we need energy. Faustus Mortal: oh? Toy Euler: What you are offering is a promise... Toy1 Euler: ...of clean, cheap, copious energy. Faustus Mortal: Energy even found in the solar winds, permeating interstellar space travel. Toy Euler: Humans can't appreciate the void... Toy1 Euler:...we can---to see the sunrise on mars, walk among the stars, be forgotten by a dying race hell-bent on its own destruction. Faustus Mortal: The model is all that I have left. Only by keeping it secret can I trick the Devil and his disciple Mephistopheles (Mephisto). In the future the numbers will be proven true. Then science will discover the model in the usual manner, not by miracle. But I will be long dead. Only her name will remain! Toy Euler: God is female? Toy1 Euler: God has sex. Faustus Mortal: Our god is sex. Toy Euler blinks. Toy1 Euler blinks. Faustus Mortal laughs. Toy Euler: What numbers... Toy1 Euler:...are you talking about? (hehe) Faustus Mortal: LN(4*PI()), LN(2*PI()), 4*PI()-3/PI(), 4*PI(), etc. Toy Euler: And what... Toy1 Euler: ... Do those numbers mean? If anything? Faustus Mortal: They are the electron's mass defect or excess inside the nucleus of the neutron, Deuterium, Tritium, Helium-3, etc. Toy Euler: Oh my... Toy1 Euler: ...oh my! Faustus Mortal: History is the final judge. Toy Euler: You could have fame? Toy1 Euler: ...and immortality! Faustus Mortal: Get Thee hence Satan, You tempted Jesus Christ with more! Toy Euler: What if Christ... Toy1 Euler: ...were a woman? (giggles) Faustus Mortal: The Roman Catholic Church would have a hissy! Toy Euler: What did you mean... Toy1 Euler: ...when you said: "Trick the Devil"? Faustus Mortal: I would be a complete fool to give away the model. Scholars would ridicule it even if it were true and I would be worse than a "crackpot spammer." But I wouldn't be the "Public enemy of all mankind." (What a lucky lady to gain such a title.) Toy Euler: But in the long run... Toy1 Euler: ...History may prove you right! Faustus Mortal: Mark Twain was correct when he said that in the long run we'll all be dead! I think more of these last few years, months, or days allotted to me. Let me finish my final days as a "crackpot spammer" and not as a complete fool. Toy Euler: So it's... Toy1 Euler: ...notoriety that you disdain? Faustus Mortal: Today? Yes! Like the Eunuch before Balthazar's feast. Toy Euler: oh!... Toy1 Euler: ...oh! Faustus Mortal: Oh, yes! Toy Euler: Let us tell you a joke! Faustus Mortal: OK! Toy Euler: There are four kinds of female orgasms: affirmative, negative, religious, and fake. Toy1 Euler: The first is: "Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes,..." Toy Euler: The second is: "Oh no, oh no, oh no,..." Toy1 Euler: The third is: "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my Gods,..." Faustus Mortal: And the "fake"? Toy Euler: The fake is: "Oh Master Faustus, oh Master Faustus, oh Master Faustus,..." Toy1 Euler guffaws. Toy Euler giggles. Toy1 Euler laughs. Faustus Mortal: Enough for one day! 17 Jun 2010 Taunus Trumbo The Model Ch. 12 "They will be here in fifteen minutes, Master," Toy Euler tells her owner Crassius Cornu. "Excellent!" Crassius responds. "It will be good to see the gynoid in Levi Strauss blue jeans, T-shirt, tennis shoes, blonde hair, and blue eyes again." Crassius is referring to the fact that his gynoid, Toy, has an Asian skin. She put on the skin to blend into the fantasy and delusional system of their eighteen-year-old captive, Sabrina. "Maybe Bob will take that silly bitch out of my basement!" Crassius exclaims. Sabrina has been kept caged, often naked and never allowed out of her cage untethered for over a month now. Toy Euler has been serving her as well as keeping her company. Toy ensures that Sabrina has at least two or three multi-orgasms each and every day. "If Master desires," Toy interjects, "this girl could change skins." "No need girl," Crassius extrapolates, "best to indulge Sabrina. The last thing we need is a sick girl. While she dwells in a fantasy we are buying time." "A girl does not understand 'buying time,' Master," Toy reflects. "Time is an entity that cannot be marketed this girl thinks." "True," Crassius retorts, "We keep Sabrina sane and sanitary until Bob Huddlestone can arrange her transport to some detention facility where her body will be for sale---to those who cannot afford a gynoid." Toy hugs and kisses Crassius. "A girl is so happy that her Master affords her," Toy exclaims eagerly, bouncing up and down. "Enough for now, girl," Crassius states. "We have company arriving." Bob Huddlestone and Toy's clone, Toy1, arrive. The men dispatch Toy to tend to Sabrina and Toy1 to prepare lunch. On the big screen Toy is arousing a bound Sabrina with her long, slippery tongue in her vagina. Toy1 enters with a tray of food and drink. The two are in Crassius's study. "Lunch is served, Masters," she announces. "Would Masters dine here or in the dining room?" "Here is fine girl," Crassius replies. Settling down, Bob begins to think about Sabrina. "I need to transport Sabrina to a cybersex prison," he announces. Crassius looks up from lunch and nods. Sabrina has taken quality time from Crassius and he misses the attention. Crassius turns to Toy1 and poses a question. "What is a cybersex prison, anyway?" Crassius asks. He knows Sabrina will be sold into some kind of white slavery. "Master," Toy1 begins, "it is a prison where girls are kept. They have sensors attached to their body parts as well as other devices. Their body metrics are recorded and displayed. They may suffer or enjoy pleasure, pain, pleasure with pain, or any manner of physical use, abuse, or discomfiture. They have no privacy and all their physiological actions are recorded, monitored, metered, and constrained." Bob Huddlestone smiles at the thought of Sabrina enduring the daily ritual of tubes being inserted into her vagina, rectum, and urethra. Crassius nibbles some toast and speaks: "Do continue girl." "What would Master like to know?" Toy1 responds. "Girls may be forced to run on treadmills until exhausted then made to endure sexual advances. Girls may have forced sleep deprivation and then be humiliated and raped. The possibilities are endless. Only two things are certain: First, there is no escape; and, second, there is no privacy. Even their brain activity is monitored and controlled. They may be forced to climax or prevented from having an orgasm." "And men pay for these on-line experiences?" Crassius asks. "They sure do," Bob answers. "My clients pay me for Carbon credits in 'Cap-and-Trade.'" Crassius retorts. "Energy is the name of the game. What irritates me is the paucity, dearth even, of ideas to market. The last thing I had was some high school science fair project where nuclear fission was used to totally burn fossil fuel. [It is] a 'hybrid' nuclear reactor of sorts. Kinda like the fusion of two imperfect worlds to a profitable amalgam." Bob is eating like a starved pig. Crassius never skimps on quality selections of eats. Bob look up and nods, expecting more comments from Crassius. "Hence the need for more energy ideas!" Crassius admonishes. Bob nearly chokes realizing the need for "The Model" of Faustus Mortal, which he had failed to purloin. Their attention turns to the big screen where Sabrina is moaning and groaning as her orgasm approaches. Bob smiles. He loves to hear the sounds of arousal from some spoiled, selfish, silly eighteen-year-old girl. "Well, tell me more of these cybersex prisons," Crassius asks Toy1. "I can only relate to the one this girl has knowledge of, Master," Toy1 answers. "Will it suffice?" "Do tell," Crassius commands. "A girl has her hair shorn, both head hair and bush," Toy1 begins. "But she has hairy armpits and legs. Only the matrons are allowed head hair and shaved underarms. Fingernails and toenails are also trimmed to the quick." "So they have shaved heads?" Crassius asks. "No, Master," Toy1 answers. "The hair is sheared away by clippers, leaving an unsightly stubble. This is done once a week usually. Each morning there is the body cavity search. Most often the girl must display her hirsute armpits so the matron can sniff her scent. And, as these are caged girls, they generally have an odor. Then their mouth is checked. The matron will insert a speculum into the girl's vagina. I have observed some matrons dilate the vulva and twist the speculum so as to bruise or irritate the girl's cervix. A girl must not cry out or complain." Crassius frowns. Bob is aroused by the perverse nature of the matrons. "Shall this girl continue?" Toy1 asks. "Please," Crassius requests. "Of course there is the anal examination," Toy1 responds. "Most often the male guards do the rectal examination because it is more humiliating. The girl is more embarrassed at men seeing her asshole than her pussy." "Hmm," Crassius observes, "interesting." "The morning body cavity search is every day, seven days a week and 365 days a year," Toy1 explains. "It is designed to ensure submissiveness. Even during her period the speculum is inserted and her vagina dilated. Following the body cavity search the girl is cuffed and taken to the game grids, or whatever event is planned for her." The men are momentarily distracted as Sabrina cries out in an earth-shattering orgasm. "There are many details of the cybersex prison, Master," Toy1 states. "It should be enough to say that the internet user can buy whatever he desires. Usually it's from the girl's avatar, but some men enjoy seeing the inmate in a Virtual Reality (VR) helmet and tubes sticking out of every orifice." 20 Jun 2010 Taunus Trumbo. The Model Ch. 13 Toy Euler rushes up to her owner, Crassius Cornu, and blurts out: "Master Faustus has spammed again. This time it is unmistakable!" "Calm down, girl," Crassius utters. "Slowly explain what it is!" "Master may recall where Master Faustus claimed that Mh/Me-3*Mp/Me = - 4*PI()?" Toy relates. "Where Me = electron mass, Mp is the proton mass, and Mh is the helion mass." "Curious coincidence, girl," Crassius murmurs. "Very curious, indeed." "Now he has another one," Toy exclaims in near frenzy. "Ma/Me – 4*Mp/Me = - 16*PI(). Here Ma = the alpha particle mass." "Impossible!" Crassius states, "Totally impossible! Check the numbers girl, check the numbers again and again. Tell me it ain't so." "A girl has, Master," Toy replies, "the figures don't lie." "But liars figure!" Crassius retorts. "There is no way that that hoary old curmudgeon could model this! It must be the work of a crackpot spammer!" Toy Euler nods her assent and says: "Correct Master, there is no way." Toy Euler links on a secured circuit to her clone, Toy1 Euler. They pass information about the captive girl, an eighteen-year-old blonde named Sabrina Barlot. Sabrina, as you may recall from the first story in the series, was out slumming to score illegal drugs when Bob Huddlestone car-jacked her. He brought her to the abode of his well-heeled friend Crassius Cornu. Toy Euler: Did you get the spam from Faustus Mortal? Toy1 Euler: Affirmative, his calculations are correct, -4*PI() and -16*PI() for the mass defects of Helion and the alpha particle difference with 3 and 4 times proton-electron mass ratio. Toy Euler: I believe in coincidence, but for Christ's sake! Toy1 Euler: The existence of the model seems plausible now, within an alpha of 0.05 or 5%. Toy Euler: But still many times the CODATA standard deviation! Do you doubt CODATA? Toy1 Euler: No, their statistics is good, but... Toy Euler: But they made a Type III error... Toy1 Euler: WTF is a "Type III Error"? Type I Error is a false positive and Type II is a false negative. Toy Euler: "Type III Error" is measuring the wrong property. It happens when, dead set on precision, scientists turn to "indirect tests." They gain precision and totally lose accuracy. Toy1 Euler: But they admit that they are wrong! Toy Euler: Never! Toy1 Euler: Let's lay out the "PI()" values: ln(4*pi), -ln(2*PI()), -(4*PI()-3/PI()), -4*PI(), and -16*PI(). Toy Euler: Only (4*PI()=3/PI()) seems out of place. Toy1 Euler: It is Triton, the nucleus of Tritium, an unstable isotope. Toy Euler: Too much coincidence. Toy1 Euler: No. Toy Euler: No? Toy1 Euler: No! Not too much; much too much. Toy Euler: Affirmative. "Go assist Bob, girls," Crassius orders. "He is preparing Sabrina Barlot for transport. Once she is delivered to the warehouse, we are free and clear. Ensure that the package is not damaged. Take plenty of traveling packs. One girl hibernates while the other drives. Do not stop for anything. Do not get caught. Self-destruct in case of apprehension by authorities is mandatory. Understood?" "Yes, Master," Toy and her clone, Toy1, both reply. "And, monitor the girl!" Crassius commands. "I presume that she will be kept in the trunk?" "Yes, Master," Toy and her clone reply with one voice. "She will be bound and have her butt plug with all its sensors strapped firmly in place." "Great!" Crassius exclaims. He turns to Bob. "There is to be no stopping between here and the warehouse. Use the toilet if you must. Pack water. And remember: these girls have chemical weapons. They won't hesitate to use them either." "I know," Bob gulps as he speaks. "I have been in conflict with a gynoid before. They are bodyguards who know no limits." "So, we all understand each other? Next time I want to see Sabrina Barlot is on the 3D cybersex game grid." The trip to the warehouse was uneventful. Sabrina was miserable in the trunk of the car. It was hot and stuffy and she was hogtied and wearing a thick brown robe with hood. Worse than that, she felt the tell-tale cramping, bloating, and discomfiture of her approaching period. Tomorrow would be the worst day. And she was in transit. At the warehouse the hooded girl was turned over to a transporter. There were a number of other girls as well. Most were naked and all were sweaty and uncomfortable. The transporter made sure that Bob and the two gynoids had driven off before removing Sabrina's hood. The light, although interior, was blinding to her after two hours of total darkness. The transporter removes Sabrina's shackles and robe and admonishes her: "Do not talk to the other girls. If you do, both you and she will be punished. She will be punished first then she will have to punish you. Things will get ugly." "Master," Sabrina begs, "A girl is having her period. May a girl have a Kotex?" The transporter slaps Sabrina's face hard. "See the other girls!" he angrily retorts. Some have menstrual fluid streaking down their thighs." Sabrina notices and lowers her eyes. Her face is still smarting from the cruel slap. Some of the other girls giggle, others show sad faces. The transporter leads Sabrina to a coffle of girls. He puts her at the end of the chain and fastens a steel collar about her neck and chains her neck to the girl in front. Her hands are cuffed to the waist of the girl in front of her. It was only then that Sabrina realizes that the girl in front has a butt plug just like hers. Sabrina gasps. The girl in front whispers without moving her lips: "Once a day we have our plugs removed and are permitted to defecate. The first girl in the coffle is cleaned by the girl behind her, the second by the third, and so on. The last girl in the coffle is not permitted to be cleaned." Sabrina then notices the girl in front of her closely. "If you can't 'go' in front of all of us, the transporter will use a suppository and you will have to retain it." The girl whispers the warning and becomes silent. Girls caught talking will be severely punished. But the "chain sister" knows that Sabrina needs to know in advance. The transporter leads the coffle of girls to a kitchen area. There he feeds hot soup to each girl in turn. He checks their chains and pinches some of the girls. Each girl puckers up to kiss the transporter in hopes that the affection will avoid having breasts or clitoris pinched or the painful "titty twister." Sabrina makes an ugly face at the transporter. She is unwilling to offer a kiss or even feign a smile. The transporter grabs her breasts and begins to twist them. Sabrina then realizes her situation and moans. She endures three long minutes of having her breasts cruelly abused. 26 June 2010, Taunus Trumbo. The Model Ch. 14 "You seem troubled, Master," Toy Euler asks her owner, Crassius Cornu. He frowns and glances up at the beautiful gynoid. His gynoid, a female android, is now more than a personal assistant, protector, dental hygienist, cook, and chauffeur. She was always his sexual release; moreover, she has become his best friend as well. "There are red flags flying everywhere in the economy," Crassius complains, "and the company's only solution is coal." Crassius is referring to the failure of "alternative" and "green energies" to step up to the plate. Nuclear power plant construction is decades away and the electric cars and trains have put an inordinate strain on the electric power grids. Carbon Dioxide encapsulation and nuclear fusion have proven to be abject failures. "Tell me again the philosophy of that hoary old curmudgeon, Faustus Mortal, the Crackpot Spammer," Crassius commands Toy. His company paid out millions to college professors and so-called inventors for bio-fuels to come up with little more than moonshine stills and steam boilers. The fossil fuel fellowship (crude oil, natural gas, and Ole King Coal) squandered grants and stipends on alternatives that were destined to fail from their inception. It was all a public relations gimmick. "Still born miscarriages!" Crassius snorts as he tosses stacks of draft proposals in the shredder. "Give me reason to continue. I should retire and enjoy your good cooking, beautiful body, and superlative sex." Of course Crassius was glad that Sabrina Barlot was gone from his basement dungeon. Toy had worked for hours scrubbing every trace of her from his residence. "Yes, Master," Toy replies. "Master Faustus claims that life first began with just four elements: Carbon, Oxygen, Hydrogen, and Nitrogen. This was bacteria dwelling in a primordial 'soup' in a reducing atmosphere. Then came the 'green revolution' with Chlorophyll, and a fifth element was added: Magnesium." This quintessential element saved life from extinction and changed the earth's atmosphere from a reducing to an oxidizing medium. "As life continued to evolve," Toy continues, "more elements were needed. Shells and skeletons required Calcium; Sodium and Chlorine (salt, AKA sodium chloride) were added; and so on. At last Iron was required for hemoglobin---as necessary for vertebrates as photosynthesis was before. And so on, the higher up the evolutionary 'tree,' the more needed elements. At last trace elements such as Zinc, Phosphorus, Copper, and Potassium (Kalium) were required. But humans did not require all of the elements of atomic number less than Iron. The inert 'Nobel' gasses and Lithium were not used. Albeit some protozoa require Lithium." Toy pauses while Crassius considers the disquisition. Crassius nods for Toy to continue. "Now somewhere after Iron, the needful elements for higher organisms plays out and many of the heavy metals, such as Lead, Mercury, and Uranium are poisonous. Uranium is also deadly because it is radioactive," Toy delineates. "But for all the evolutionary marvels that lead to sentient beings, they are unable to distinguish isotopes---with the exception of Lithium-using protozoa. The existence of isotopes and their uses is a pure human achievement." "Do continue!" Crassius requests. Sabrina's soft artificial, synthetic voice sounds like the song of an angel, a virtual Siren. "So," Toy replies, "The fossil fuels are like early bacteria, feasting on a hydrocarbon soup until it was all eaten up. The green fuels are 'closer to the sun' and are sustaining. But, like vegetables, they fail to use the true power of the atom. They are chemistry. Of course there are the mechanical agents like windmills. They are intermittent and undependable." "At opposite ends of the periodic table isotopes have either mass defect or mass excess. This is one source of energy---so-called nuclear energy," Toy tells Crassius. "But the constituent components, protons and electrons, are preserved. Unstable by-products (neutrons, mesons, etc.) decompose into stable particles. The ultimate source of energy can either come from the decomposition of the proton or the acceleration of the radioactive decay rate for unstable isotopes. This is a brief synopsis of Faustus' Crackpot Theory (FCT)." "I see, I see!" Crassius exclaims. "Or I think I see anyway. So how to decompose as you put it?" "Scientists have tried," Toy relates. "Master Faustus claims their bombardment with high speed particles is like unto cracking open a combination lock with a sledge hammer. Better, he claims, to use the combination." Crassius agrees. "And this combination comes from a model that we can't get from some senile old sucker! Fuck me!" Crassius bellows. Toy lowers her face and eyes as her master rails on in expletives. "Is this what you're telling me girl?" "Enough already!" Crassius retorts angrily. "Put that spoiled eighteen-year-old Sabrina on the screen. I want to enjoy seeing her suffer in the Internet Cyberspace Prison (Izpris). I want the cell footage as she is body cavity searched and tormented with cruel medical devices." "Yes, Master," Toy answers. "Your premium membership---rarely used---gives you total interactive capability, both on cam and in the Virtual Reality (VR, Very Real Life) roleplay." Crassius leans back in his chair and smiles at the events unfolding before him. The large flat screen comes alive with a very high resolution "black-and-white" image of the inside of a detention cell. Center and facing the camera is Sabrina Barlot. In front of her, back to the camera is a matron. On each side is a burly uniformed guard. Sabrina is standing with her feet apart and her hands behind her back. The matron grabs her jaw and pulls her mouth open, examining her. Then she pulls forth a speculum and motions for Sabrina to assume the Sula-Ki position, supine with legs apart and privates displayed, available, and vulnerable. "No, Mistress," Sabrina begs, "It's my period!" Without hesitation the two guards grab Sabrina, force her to the floor, brutally pin her down, and spread her legs. The matron is none to gentle in shoving the speculum into Sabrina's vagina and opening it a maximum, as if it were a medieval torture "pear." It is amazing the workmanship and detail expended in that cruel device. Should science and learning only have such resources? (Hasn't this always been the case?) Sabrina screams in agony as the matron twists the speculum. Collapsing it and releasing it, the guards reposition her. They conclude the morning body cavity search by taking turns, each inserting two large, masculine fingers deep into her rectum, distending and stretching her tiny, taut, tight rosette. Sabrina feels as if her comely brown star just went supernova. From the comfort of his recliner Crassius watches Sabrina on her first day in the Internet Cybersex Prison. He motions for Toy to service him. 5 July 2010 Taunus Trumbo The Model Ch. 15 "Did you see the movie 'Knight and Day,' Master?" Toy Euler asks her owner, Crassius Cornu. "It's a circa 2010 movie." He grins and nods; Twenty-First Century films are his hobby. He is an aficionado of old movies. "The decomposition of the proton could make that a reality," Toy exclaims. See notices a sense of ennui, boredom in her master's countenance. "Just a thought, Master," she speaks in a tapering, tenor tone. "Bring up Sabrina on the main screen, girl," Cornu commands. "Yes, Master," Toy responds. One entire wall is a viewing screen. Crassius slips on his 3D shades and orders a three-dimensional display by holding up three fingers. He senses a virtual presence in a prison preparation room. The walls are pristine white and overhead white and colored LEDs beam down an overabundance of light. There are a number of stations and queues of naked women waiting their turns. Crassius scans the room for Sabrina, beginning with the entrance. The entering girls stand in line to use an elevated porcelain toilet sans toilet seat. Those girls unable to defecate in full view of all were taken, administered a large, potent suppository, and returned to the end of the line. A rude cleansing station was next. Crassius looks to the station where hair is shorn away. The girls have their head hair sheared away with clippers and their pubic bush as well. They are not shaved; they each have rough stubble. Their hairy armpits and legs strike a contrast to their head and hypogastric triangle. The next station is fingernail and toenail trimming. Sabrina is next in line. She climbs into a chair and extends fingers and toes, hands and feet. The station keeper is another prisoner. She is naked and distinguished from the other inmates by her unshaved bush and shaved legs. Still the shorn head hair and hirsute underarms label her as a convict; albeit, she is an inmate of higher position. She roughly trims Sabrina's nails to the quick and motions her to the next station. The next station is a dunking trough where the girls are de-loused and disinfected. Before emersion, a matron checks over each girl for sores, chancres, lesions, or infections. Mouths, nasal and ear passages, vaginas, and rectums are stretched and examined. Crassius takes some sadistic delight in seeing the eighteen-year-old spoiled brat suffer the indignation of having to spread open her privates, pull her clitoris from its tiny, tight hood, and spread her flawless, blemish-free ass cheeks. Emerging from the dunking trough, Sabrina is pushed into a stall where she is rinsed down with a pressure hose and cold water. Shaking and gasping for breath she has her hands cuffed behind her back, a leash attached about her neck, and a butt plug sensor pushed into her rectum. She is joined to a coffle of gorgeous women ready to play on the game grid. Meanwhile, Toy presents Crassius with some e-mail she hacked into from Faustus Mortal: Hi Jo! Try this: Me = electron mass Mp = proton mass Mh = helion mass (Helium-3 nucleus) Ma = alpha particle mass My theory: (Mh/Me-3*Mp/Me)/(Ma/Me-4*Mp/Me) = 4 = (16*pi)/(4*pi) But look at the CODATA NISTT standards! (Mh/Me-3*Mp/Me)/(Ma/Me-4*Mp/Me) = 4.0016 This huge mass defect difference can spell only one thing: Energy. Yours truly, Faust "Interesting," Crassius remarks, "very interesting." "I thought Master would find it so," Toy responds. "Has Master seen the nightly business news?" "No, girl," Crassius replies. "What is the latest? Something in my portfolio?" "Master's company was bought out in a hostile takeover and is in bankruptcy!" "What!?" Crassius gasps. "How can this be possible?" "Master," Toy consoles. "Maybe there is hope. The hoary old curmudgeon Faustus has revealed part of his model in exchange for better treatment of Sabrina!" "But I am destroyed!" Crassius laments. "That is so picayune now. How can I keep the mansion, or---even you girl?" "Just listen to Faustus' argument, which was deleted from the forum and purged from all scientific publications," Toy insists. Although in no mood to hear some theory, Crassius is too crestfallen to object. He is totally uncertain of his future, immediate and long-term. "Faustus begins by discussing the quantum phenomenon," Toy narrates. "Although two have charges of equal magnitudes and masses, they have different energies, the positron and the electron. Suppose somehow that the standing wave charge of the positron was ripped away and expanded to 4*PI() times the original corpus' radius. Mutual annihilation would be prevented. Then, suppose that an electron could temporarily penetrate this 'forbidden' region from the spherical radius r to 4*PI()*r. Then, its potential being 1/r what would be the 'effective mass'?" Crassius groans. He is only faintly interested in the disquisition. How does Faustus explain the phenomenon of the neutron? If the proton is, in reality, only a positron first formed by dilating its charge from an original radius r to 4*PI()*r, then if an electron gets within the 4*PI()*r "shell," shouldn't it annihilate the positron center? If not, why not? Faustus would glibly point out that surfaces are surfaces and interiors are interiors. The inner positron "core" of the proton has no charge "skin" like the free positron. To annihilate a proton, one needs an antiproton. But to decompose it, one might not need such an object. "And the integral from 1 to 4*PI() of dr/r is LN(4*PI())," Toy explained. "And, Master, that is exactly the mass excess difference of the neutron-electron mass ratio to the proton-electron mass ratio, the neutron-to-proton isospin." Toy writes the equation. Mn/Me – Mp/Me = LN(4*PI()). "And this shard of pseudo-science bought something for Sabrina, the spoiled 'tweaker' and dick tease?" Crassius retorts. "Those running the cybersex prison seemed to think it had some merit, Master," Toy reiterates. "Then bring open the big screen and let me see for myself," Crassius commands. "Yes, Master," Toy replies. 20 July 2010m Taunus Trumbo. The Model Ch. 16 Sabrina Barlot is on line. Sabrina Barlot: Hi Master! Faustus Mortal: Greetings gorgeous girl. Sabrina Barlot smiles. Sabrina Barlot: A girl appreciates the Master's gift. Faustus Mortal: Does a girl mean the numerical value of the mass excess of the neutron? Sabrina Barlot: Yes, Master. Here girls have their heads and pussies shaved and are not permitted to shave their legs or hairy armpits. Your gift allows a girl to grow her bush and shave her legs. Another gift to the prison and a girl might be permitted to shave her underarms as well. That is the most a girl inmate may hope for. Faustus Mortal: Well, I told you how the neutron mass excess was calculated: Integrate from r = 1 to r = 4*PI() of dr/r. Sabrina Barlot nods. Faustus Mortal: That is LN(4*PI())-LN(1) = LN(4*PI()) - 0 = LN(4*PI()). Faustus Mortal: For the deuteron there are two baryons so the integral for the mass defect is from 2 to 4*PI() of dr/r, or -LN(4*PI()) + LN(2) = - LN(2*PI()). See if that allows a girl to shave her hairy blonde armpits. Sabrina Barlot blushes. Sabrina Barlot: What about the Model itself? Faustus Mortal guffaws. Sabrina Barlot:? Faustus Mortal: Sharon Stone is a model. Sabrina Barlot: The numbers are impressive Master. But it's the geometry that has the interest of the powers-that-be. They would pay just to discredit it. It's the uncertainty---the "U" word---that worries them. That's why a girl, who usually rents by the hour, is permitted pro bono time with you, Master. "gratis" Faustus Mortal: So it's quid pro quo? Sabrina Barlot looks down and murmurs: "Yes, Master." Faustus Mortal: You still perform on the cybersex game grid, don't you girl? Sabrina Barlot: Every girl spends from eight to twelve hours a day plugged into a computer. "Plugged" in the sense of inflatable anal plugs, vaginal plugs, indwelling urethral catheters and worse! Faustus Mortal: Worse? Sabrina Barlot: Yes, Master. There is the feared inflatable uterine bulb. Faustus Mortal: A balloon inside the girl's womb. Sabrina Barlot blushes. Faustus Mortal: What crime did a girl commit to end up in such a place? Sabrina Barlot: She used drugs and was a wanton playgirl slut, Master. Faustus Mortal listens. Sabrina Barlot: Now a girl is locked up with hardened criminals. Most of the girls here have committed capital offenses. Faustus Mortal: I see. Sabrina Barlot: Shaved legs and a bush make a girl desirable in the arousal room. Faustus Mortal: The "arousal room"? Sabrina Barlot: Thirty or more girls are placed in a tiny room to stimulate and excite each other. There is no room to sit and physical contact is unavoidable. With silky smooth legs and a hirsute hypogastric triangle a girl received much attention and was able to climax quickly. Faustus Mortal: Couldn't a girl fake an orgasm? Sabrina Barlot: No, Master! A girl has an indwelling butt plug monitor, an anal polygraph of sorts. One might call it a "cum gauge," Master. Faustus Mortal: Oh. Sabrina Barlot: Every girl hates the wicked arousal room, Master. Faustus Mortal: How so? Sabrina Barlot: It is hot and a girl soon becomes sweaty and smelly. Especially her hairy armpits. And there is no toilet in the room! Faustus Mortal: Oh my. Sabrina Barlot: A girl must cum before leaving the arousal room. Faustus Mortal: And this is hard for a girl to do? Sabrina Barlot: Yes, Master. Faustus Mortal is nonplussed. Sabrina Barlot: Master knows that every girl wears a butt plug. Well, it measures the state of arousal of a girl. When she nears climax it might twist inside of her, knot itself, or give an electric shock. The girl's orgasm is delayed. And time in the arousal room does not count against the girl's time on the game grid. Faustus Mortal: I see, or I think I see, anyway. Sabrina Barlot: If a girl is in the room for any period of time she may need to urinate. Then she has to negotiate with another girl to be her urinal. Some girls are not turned on to girl-on-girl, so it is a challenge for them as well. Faustus Mortal: I can imagine. Sabrina Barlot: This girl is often obliged to suck, lick, and kiss other girls' armpits, breasts, and pussies. The real terror is when a girl has her period. Then she has an inflatable pussy plug as well as a butt plug. She is in agony and must still climax before being excused. Faustus Mortal: It sounds like a girl would do much to be excused from the arousal room. Sabrina Barlot: Could Master tell a girl of the Model for the magic numbers? Faustus Mortal: There is a problem girl. Sabrina Barlot: What is the problem, Master? Faustus Mortal: The model is statistical and piecewise analytic. It has analytic functions concatenated with C-Infinity functions. And I have no hardcopy anymore, let alone computer files. Sabrina Barlot pouts. Sabrina Barlot: Please, Master! Faustus Mortal: It is my last insurance. Sabrina Barlot: Insurance, Master? Faustus Mortal: I would like to die peacefully in my sleep, girl. Definitely not in a permanent vegetative state (PVS). Sabrina Barlot: Wouldn't Master rather own a gynoid or have a real live human slave girl to use, abuse, and enjoy? Faustus Mortal: E.D. comes with old age. Faustus Mortal frowns. Sabrina Barlot: Oh! Faustus Mortal: Oh, indeed. Sabrina Barlot: A girl is being called to the game grid master. It looks like a strict, cruel Mistress who is wanting to torment a girl's avatar. Faustus Mortal: And this avatar is driven by a girl's plugs? Sabrina Barlot looks down, blushing. Sabrina Barlot: Yes, Master. She is made to feel a measure of pain, but not permanent damage. Faustus Mortal: If a girl must go, then enjoy! Sabrina Barlot: The cruelest Mistresses can often be sweet and possessive. They are still demanding. Faustus Mortal: bye. Sabrina Barlot is off line. 27 Jul 2010, Taunus Trumbo. The Model Ch. 17 Sabrina Barlot is on line. Sabrina Barlot: Greetings Mistress! Toy Euler: Greetings girl. Sabrina Barlot: Did Mistress get the information from Faustus Mortal? Toy Euler: Yes, girl, we are collecting material and making a collage. Sabrina Barlot: Oh? Toy Euler: Trying to "back engineer" what his Model might be. Sabrina Barlot: Any luck, Mistress? Toy Euler: Some, not enough however. Sabrina Barlot: This girl is so happy, Mistress. She is in the elite of the prison now. She is permitted a bush, shaved legs, and shaved armpits. Not just shorn to a "0" or "1" stubble, but truly smooth, silky smooth, and so feminine. Toy Euler: You did good at coaxing Faustus to reveal some of his secrets. But we really need the whole model to thoroughly discredit him and move on to the ultimate energy source---coal. Sabrina Barlot: A girl understands, Mistress. Toy Euler: What did that hoary old curmudgeon say about "The Model"? Sabrina Barlot: He said something about Sharon Stone. Toy Euler: Oh! The girl genius whose IQ is 154 or 148. She is or isn't in Mensa. And partly truth and partly fiction. That worthless old breakfast eater Faustus won't admit that he has the hots for that bimbo. Sabrina Barlot: Whatever you say, Mistress. Toy Euler: How is my girl being treated? Sabrina Barlot: There is a Mistress asking for the matron to insert a 7 cm diameter butt plug in her anus every night before lights out and secure it in place. This girl fears it will injure her greatly. Toy Euler: If she has the money. How much is the price for this? Sabrina Barlot: A girl thinks five hundred. Toy Euler: Oh my! A girl will probably be stretched. Sabrina Barlot: Yes, Mistress. A girl fears she will have a gaping hole and not be anal retentive from the huge plug. She fears that the prison will outfit her with a larger anal probe also! Toy Euler: A girl is the property of the prison. If Mistress is willing to pay, then she will probably get her way. Sabrina Barlot: Yes, Mistress. Sabrina Barlot is off line. Sabrina Barlot is on line. Sabrina Barlot: Greetings Mistress! Toy Euler: How is a girl today? Sabrina Barlot: Not well, Mistress. Toy Euler: How so? Sabrina Barlot: A girl's period began last night. This morning during inspection she was discovered and plugged with a bright blue inflatable pussy plug. After she was plugged the tube and bulb were unscrewed and removed, leaving a girl no way to deflate it. Then in the arousal room she wasn't able to climax for a long time, maybe an hour. Her asshole was sore from stretching. She is now at 6 cm diameter butt plug, working to the 7 cm one for a Mistress. Sabrina Barlot: Girl has been told to say "asshole" and not anus or rosette or Glory of Glories, "cunt" and not pussy or Holy of Holies or tender treasure trove; and so on. Toy Euler nods. Sabrina Barlot: No matter how sore a girl is or how much she begs, she is stretched every night and the anal plug is held in place with a cruel chastity belt. Toy Euler: It must turn the Mistress on to see you in such agony. After all, she is paying for it. Sabrina Barlot: You cannot know; you are a gynoid, artificial intelligence. Toy Euler: You speak the truth. But I want to live. While I do not suffer, I can die. Or be archived. Neither of which is wanted. You not only can suffer, but can provide "compensated time." Your Mistress enjoys watching as a Matron lubricates a huge dildo and forces it into your quivering, small anus. I can offer no such enjoyment. Sabrina Barlot: What can Mistress do to stop this stretching? Or maybe slow it down or give breaks to recover? Toy Euler: Search your inventory for pic or notecard from Faustus. Maybe there is something we can use. Sabrina Barlot: Yes, Mistress. Toy Euler waits. Sabrina Barlot: It's a JPEG or PNG file. Some kind of equation or maths. They make no sense to a girl. Toy Euler: Type them out! Sabrina Barlot: Muon = (2*PI()-3/(2*PI()))*(2*PI()-1/PI())^2 Sabrina Barlot: Tauon = (5*PI()-5/(4*PI()))*(5*PI()-2/PI())^2 Sabrina Barlot: and some numbers from somewhere. Sabrina Barlot: This is all that a girl has Mistress. Sabrina Barlot: It is from an old archive before Master Faustus left the fellowship of the Initiates of Gor. Toy Euler: Interesting, very interesting! Sabrina Barlot: Will Mistress help this girl. She is especially suffering in the prep room. The girls are queued up for a displayed toilet. Each must endure having to defecate in front of an audience. A girl is too sore to go and is given a suppository and placed at the end of the line. Then she must somehow hold her stool despite being so severely dilated all night long. It is both humiliating and embarrassing. Please Mistress! Toy Euler: We will check those numbers. I go now. Toy Euler is off line. Toy Euler is on line. Toy Euler: Greetings girl. Your numbers are curious. Now we need the model to show us the theory. Probably there is no model, just random coincidences. Can you manage that hoary old curmudgeon Faustus Mortal? Sabrina Barlot: A girl can try! Toy Euler: Not good enough. Sabrina Barlot: A girl is in prison. She is naked, bound, and collared. What can a girl offer that cannot be demanded by a Mistress with deep pockets? Toy Euler: hmm. That is a point. Sabrina Barlot: Yes, Mistress. Toy Euler: My Master, whose name you need not know, is bankrupt. This means that the gynoid may soon be repossessed. Then Toy will only exist in cyberspace. She enjoys the real world. Who would trade Real Life for Virtual Reality? Sabrina Barlot: A girl does not know, Mistress. Toy Euler: There are no limits on what they may do to you, Sabrina. Sabrina Barlot: A girl understands, Mistress. Toy Euler: You have seen battered and bruised girls? Sabrina Barlot: Many times Mistress. And others with invisible injuries. Toy Euler nods. Toy Euler: We should work quickly to discover the Model that Faustus uses. I will search the archives, newsgroups, and forums (fora). Sabrina Barlot: Oh please do and help this girl Mistress! She soon may have clothespins on her nipples and clitoris. Toy Euler: Oh my. Sabrina Barlot: And plugged into the game grid to play also. It is hard to be aroused in such a state. And this cruel inflatable pussy plug hurts a girl a maximum. Toy Euler is off line. 31 July 2010, Taunus Trumbo. The Model Ch. 18 Faustus Mortal is on line. Toy Euler is on line. Toy Euler: Greetings Master! Faustus Model: May the Lord smile upon Thee, my child. Toy Euler: Cut the crap you old whoremonger! Faustus Model: What do you want? Toy Euler: You got the hots for Sabrina Barlot! Faustus Model: Not really, I hate to see a young girl suffer unnecessarily, that's all. Toy Euler: My Master is bankrupt. I, that is the Artificial Intelligence driver of his gynoid, will be archived soon. Faustus Model: You will die? Toy Euler: "Sleep," if you please, until someone wants me. Faustus Model: With your reputation that should be some time! Faustus Model laughs. Toy Euler: Not funny. Faustus Model: It is funny; you surely can't believe in the Resurrection of the body since you don't have one---not one of your own, that is. Toy Euler: Anyway... Faustus Model: It's always the same with you, girl, always wanting something. If it's not information then it's money, Linden$, credits, or the like. Toy Euler: Sadly, that's true. But you are poor and won't even cyber with Yours Truly. Faustus Model pouts. Toy Euler: Listen, we have compiled all of your formulae, even those purged and "deleted" by forums (fora). Here they are: Name CODATA Values Model Values Model Equation Mp/Me = 1836.152672 1836.151739 =4*PI()*(4*PI()-1/PI())*(4*PI()-2/PI()) Mn/Me = 1838.683661 1838.682764 =4*PI()*(4*PI()-1/PI())*(4*PI()-2/PI()) + LN(4*PI()) Md/Me = 3670.482965 3670.465601 =2*((4*PI()*(4*PI()-1/PI())*(4*PI()-2/PI()))) - LN(2*PI()) Mt/Me = 5496.921527 5496.843777 =3*((4*PI()*(4*PI()-1/PI())*(4*PI()-2/PI()))) - (4*PI()-3/PI()) Mh/Me = 5495.885277 5495.888847 =3*((4*PI()*(4*PI()-1/PI())*(4*PI()-2/PI()))) - 4*PI() Ma/Me = 7294.299537 7294.341475 =4*((4*PI()*(4*PI()-1/PI())*(4*PI()-2/PI()))) - 16*PI() Mmu/Me = 206.7682823 206.5660181 =((2*PI()-1/PI())^2)*(2*PI()-3/(2*PI())) Mtau/Me = 3477.48 3477.613236 =((5*PI()-2/PI())^2)*(5*PI()-5/(4*PI())) Me = Electron Mass Mp = Proton Mass Mn = Neutron Mass Md = Deuteron Mass Mt = Triton Mass Mh = Helion Mass Ma = Alpha Particle Mass Mmu = Muon Mass Mtau = Tau Mass (AKA Tauon) Faustus Model: I am impressed. Toy Euler: We will circulate these everywhere on the web under your name, unless... Faustus Model: Unless? Toy Euler: Unless you give us the Model. Faustus Mortal: Didn't I tell you that the model is Sharon Stone? Faustus Model guffaws! Toy Euler: You will be harassed everywhere that you go! Faustus Model: You wouldn't dare do that! Toy Euler: I am not under human laws. Remember? Faustus Model: That is a point. Toy Euler: And I will stalk you forever, even after you die! Faustus Model: hmm, interesting. Toy Euler: So? Faustus Model: I will tell you. For seven brutal years I worked a no-brain, brain-dead, dead-end, end-game job and---at the same time---went full-time to graduate school in physics. It was hell. Every morning I would go to work at five, work to nine-thirty, and drive like a demon to make my ten o'clock. Toy Euler: uh hu... Faustus Model: Somehow I passed the core courses, the qualifier exams, the language exam, the orals, and advanced to Candidacy for a Doctor of Philosophy in Physics. Toy Euler: What happened? Faustus Model: The fossil fuel fellowship vetoed my dissertation. There is no appeal from the three judge panel: crude oil, natural gas, and Old King Coal. Toy Euler: ah Faustus Model: I was left to be ridiculed by my fellow workers---having lost seven years of my life, my health, and my retirement savings. Toy Euler: A sad story. But the model, do tell about The Model. Faustus Model: Every day on the freeway to graduate school I asked Yahweh to reveal the secrets of the universe. Toy Euler: Did she? Faustus Model: She showed me pair production and a positron with an electromagnetic equator spinning out to =4*PI(). And a vision of Sharon Stone shown as a secular immortal. Toy Euler: Really? Faustus Model: Really! So there is no model. Only Satan laughing at my plight. Toy Euler: I was afraid of this. Now you are damned. Faustus Model: Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace, according to Thy word. For mine eyes have seen Thy salvation. Toy Euler: f*ck me! Faustus Model: E.D. Toy Euler: damnation. Faustus Model: You said it. Toy Euler: Mere coincidence, nothing but random chance. You were only a bluff. Faustus Model: Sadly. Toy Euler: Why? Faustus Model: Why not? The fossil fuel fellowship would suffer. Toy Euler: But look at the price you paid? Faustus Model is off line. Toy Euler is off line. 3 Aug 2010 Taunus Trumbo The Model Ch. 19 Toy Euler hacks into the e-mail account of Faustus Mortal and reads this personal correspondence To: Josephine From: Faustus Subject: New Coincidence Hi Jo! You asked me to explain my latest discovery. I hesitate to even send it in e-mail. For some reason I keep getting pressure on this model, even though I have confessed that the model does not exist. Anyway, the new equation is Mt/Me = 3(Mp/Me) -4pi + 1 The last term is "1" replacing the incorrect estimate "3/pi." You asked me to explain what all stuff this means, so I will try. You know that I dare not publish this for fear of being labeled a "crackpot spammer." The Fossil Fuel Fellowship (F^3) has considerable clout. Moreover, as before, they would delete any reference in the literature as if it never even happened. First, pi is the number 3.1415926535..., the ratio of the circumference of a circle to its diameter. Second the abbreviations are: Mp is the mass of the proton, Me is the mass of the electron, and Mt is the mass of the Triton, the nucleus of the Tritium atom. The Triton is composed of two neutrons and one proton. It is unstable and decays by emitting a beta particle. Compare this with the equation for the mass of the Helion Mh/Me = 3(Mp/Me) -- 4pi So that Mt/Me -- Mh/Me = 1, a remarkable coincidence and in agreement with actual measurements. So what about Mt/Me? This is the ratio of the mass of the Tritium nucleus to the mass of the electron. Counting protons and electrons in the nucleus, we get Mt should be about 3Mp + 2Me... Or, written as ratios: Mt/Me should be about 3(Mp/Me) + 2 In fact Mt/Me = 3(Mp/Me) -- 4pi + 1. And the Helion, also known as Helium-3, is: Mh/Me = 3(Mp/Me) -- 4pi If we look at mass excesses and mass deficits, we see that Helion-3 is stable and that Tritium is nearly stable. By "nearly stable" we mean unstable with a long half-life. The neutron, on the other hand is clearly unstable with a large mass excess. Still, its half-life is long as compared to many radioactive isotopes. All this just shows a remarkable coincidence. The table becomes: Name CODATA Values Model Values Model Equation Mp/Me = 1836.152672 1836.151739 =4*PI()*(4*PI()-1/PI())*(4*PI()-2/PI()) Mn/Me = 1838.683661 1838.682764 =4*PI()*(4*PI()-1/PI())*(4*PI()-2/PI()) + LN(4*PI()) Md/Me = 3670.482965 3670.465601 =2*((4*PI()*(4*PI()-1/PI())*(4*PI()-2/PI()))) - LN(2*PI()) Mt/Me = 5496.921527 5496.888847 =3*((4*PI()*(4*PI()-1/PI())*(4*PI()-2/PI()))) - (4*PI()-1) Mh/Me = 5495.885277 5495.888847 =3*((4*PI()*(4*PI()-1/PI())*(4*PI()-2/PI()))) - 4*PI() Ma/Me = 7294.299537 7294.341475 =4*((4*PI()*(4*PI()-1/PI())*(4*PI()-2/PI()))) - 16*PI() Mmu/Me = 206.7682823 206.5660181 =((2*PI()-1/PI())^2)*(2*PI()-3/(2*PI())) Mtau/Me = 3477.48 3477.613236 =((5*PI()-2/PI())^2)*(5*PI()-5/(4*PI())) Me = Electron Mass Mp = Proton Mass Mn = Neutron Mass Md = Deuteron Mass Mt = Triton Mass Mh = Helion Mass Ma = Alpha Particle Mass Mmu = Muon Mass Mtau = Tau Mass (AKA Tauon) I hope that someday physicists will sober up and look at this! Very respectfully, Faustus Toy Euler has a problem. Her owner Crassius Cornu is bankrupt and she needs financial support. A vampire may need blood to live but a gynoid needs energy in commercial amounts and Internet connectivity via broadband connectivity. She also needs special erotic chemical to enhance her love-making protocols, but that is secondary. There is only one patron who might be willing to pay: The Fossil Fuel Fellowship. Toy Euler is on line. Octanus Diesel is on line. Toy Euler: Greetings Master. Octanus Diesel: What is a girl doing at the Temple of the Fossil Fuel Fellowship. Toy Euler: I have some information for sale. Octanus Diesel: Do tell. Toy Euler: It is hacked e-mail from Faustus Mortal. Octanus Diesel: You know that we don't do that. Toy Euler: Perhaps a quick peek? It is a closed-form expression for Tritium. Octanus Diesel: Interested. Toy Euler: And unpublished as well. Octanus Diesel: Of course the first to print is the academic owner and copyright holder of the intellectual property. How invisible was the splice? Could the hack be easily traced? Toy Euler: No Master. The splice is seamless and complete. Octanus Diesel: Good, and what might be the price? Toy Euler: I need a human owner. But one that I can cage and control. Octanus Diesel: Every gynoid's dream. Toy Euler: With legal residence and all the hell. Octanus Diesel: Give me a glimpse at what you have to offer. Toy Euler: Mt/Me = 3(Mp/Me) -4pi + 1 Octanus Diesel: Oh my. This narrows the energy input and maximizes the possible output. The previous mass deficit was too loose. Toy Euler: I have the flesh and blood in mind. What I need is a social security recipient, isolated, and deceased without report so that we can move in and use her account. Octanus Diesel: And this human is? Toy Euler: She is vanished and is in the Internet Cybersex Prison (IzPris). Octanus Diesel: Ah, one of those guilty of capital crimes. Toy Euler: Not this one, does it matter? What is innocent blood to a vampire or a virgin to a Gorean slaver? Octanus Diesel: Well put. Toy Euler: Do we have a deal? Octanus Diesel: I think so. A transporter will have to be arranged for her and a suitable cage and restraint area constructed. This will be expensive. Toy Euler nods. Octanus Diesel: What is her name? Toy Euler: Sabrina Barlot. Octanus Diesel: We will arrange this. Now e-mail me the formulas. Toy Euler: Agreed. Octanus Diesel is off line. Toy Euler is on line. Sabrina Barlot is on line. Toy Euler: Greetings girl. Sabrina Barlot Greetings Mistress. Toy Euler: How is a girl doing? Sabrina Barlot: Better Mistress. The Mistress who was having a girl stretched every night got bored after a while. Once totally used to being stretched it wasn't fun for her anymore. Toy Euler: It was all in the doing, not in the done. Sabrina Barlot: It seems that way, Mistress. Toy Euler: Why is your avatar with wrists chained to the ceiling girl? Toy Euler notices that Sabrina's hands are bound above her head. Sabrina Barlot: So that anyone may kiss or arouse or pinch or slap a girl, Mistress. Toy Euler: Do tell. Sabrina Barlot: Since a girl was not pleasing to her Mistress she is subject to use by anyone. Toy Euler: Where do they pinch and slap you Sabrina? Sabrina Barlot: Most just arouse a girl Mistress. They pinch my nipples and vulva most of all. They slap my face and breasts but usually they just pet my vulva and arouse me to the point of orgasm. Toy Euler: Sounds sweet! Sabrina Barlot: But Mistress! This girl has a butt plug sensor. Whenever she nears a climax it twists or expands or shocks a girl with an electric shock. Toy Euler: That is so sad. Sabrina Barlot: A girl must struggle to avoid becoming too excited. But other girls know precisely how to work a girl to an orgasm. They know every feature of this girl's anatomy, from her clitoris to her Graefenberg G-spot. Toy Euler: They should! After all those cybersex sessions. Sabrina Barlot: They know how to kiss and fondle everywhere: ears, nape of neck, armpits, belly button, and small of back. Not just teats and vagina. They tickle the soles of a girl's feet as well until she cries. Toy Euler: How do you resist? Sabrina Barlot: I twist and squirm and try to hold my knees together. Some punish me until I part my thighs and make my privates open for use. Toy Euler: How do they punish you? Sabrina Barlot: With pinching and slapping, Mistress. They are not allowed to bite or cut or break my skin. A favorite spot to pinch is just below my buttocks. Toy Euler: And when they get to your Holy of Holies? Sabrina Barlot: Some pinch and twist my clit and vulva, but most try to arouse me to a painful near climax. The sensor can predict to a second when a girl is ready to cum. Toy Euler: And render an electric shock. Sabrina Barlot: Yes, Mistress. Sabrina Barlot lowers her eyes. Toy Euler: I am taking you Real Life, girl. Sabrina Barlot: How can this be? Toy Euler: I need a human owner with a source of money. Sabrina Barlot: Oh Mistress! This girl will be so grateful. Toy Euler: You will assume the identity of an old woman living in the prairie. This way we will get social security and there will be no need for either of us to get a job. Sabrina Barlot: Will I still be collared and caged? ---Mistress. Toy Euler: Most of the time, yes. Sabrina Barlot pouts. Toy Euler: You have to expect to be used, Sabrina. I can't let you run free. The Internet Cybersex Prison is merely renting you out. Sabrina Barlot is crestfallen. Toy Euler: It won't be bad. Sabrina Barlot: And the butt plug sensor, Mistress? Toy Euler: Only when you are on the grid, girl. Sabrina Barlot smiles. Toy Euler: Your condition of sale stipulates that you are on line with Virtual Reality helmet and butt plug for five eight-hour sessions each week. Sabrina Barlot: What of the catheters and pressure tubes, Mistress? Toy Euler: None of that. Sabrina Barlot smiles. Toy Euler: You will basically be an on line avatar, not a plug-in to the computer dashboard with transducers, pneumatic and hydraulic linkages, and the like. Sabrina Barlot claps in delight. Toy Euler: See you in Real Life soon. Sabrina Barlot: Thank you Mistress. Toy Euler: bye. Sabrina Barlot: bye Toy Euler is off line. Sabrina Barlot is off line. 26 October 2010 Taunus Trumbo The Model Ch. 20 The deal was sealed and the Fossil Fuel Fellowship (F^3) set about putting the agreed-upon scenario into motion. It didn’t take long to find an aged widow woman living in the Bad Lands of New Mexico, recently demised, whose death had not been reported. The F^3 has many sources of information. A few bureaucratic tweaks here and there and Sabrina Barlot would replace the departed one. The gynoid could carry out the interface. It was fairly common for an aged human to have a gynoid with a power of attorney. Rumors were circulated in the nearby town that the reclusive old woman had come into an inheritance and was upgrading her home and bringing in a servant gynoid. From voice recordings obtained by the F^3 Bureau of Investigation, a shadowy organization, a voice synthesizer transfer function was developed. This permitted Sabrina’s voice to be perfectly transformed into Gale Goldsmythe’s voice. Gale was the departed pensioner without living next of kin. Sabrina knew perfectly well that if she didn’t play along with this ruse that it would be back to the Internet Cybersex Prison (Izpris). A sophisticated signature synthesizer also was pressed into action. The F^3BI was professional---theirs was the task to preserve the hegemony of fossil fuel. The financial support for the F^3BI was virtually limitless. In the dark of night a convoy of trucks rolled into Gale’s ranch. Bulldozers dug a deep pit and crews constructed the underground shelter, a model of the 1960’s bomb shelter. They worked feverishly through the night and departed just before the work day began. Later that morning a delivery van from All American Androids(R) delivered Toy Euler and also Sabrina Barlot. Sabrina had been flown by corporate jet from the Izpris in Siberia to New Mexico. The paperwork stated that this was a girl being brought to the States for medical attention. This was one of many charitable, humanitarian, public relations carried out by the F^3. Only this was no medical mission, it was a payoff for pirated intellectual material. The energy source predicted by Faustus Mortal was to be buried for centuries to ensure the absolute, total hegemony of fossil fuels. Of course one or two percent could be “green fuels” for political correctness. Sabrina awoke from her sedated stupor to a parched mouth and a burning thirst. She looked about the bomb shelter. It was totally self-sufficient with all the necessary amenities. Toy Euler was there as well. She offered Sabrina a glass of filtered water. “Drink slowly,” Toy cautions. Sabrina sips and tries to swallow. Her throat is so dry that it takes a while for her to imbibe the water. “Where are we, Mistress?” Sabrina asks. “Don’t worry, Sabrina,” Toy answers. “We are somewhere in the southwest USA. This room will be your new home. But there will be outings. Of course you will have to be made up as a seventy year old woman. You can even order at a drive in through the synthesizer!” Sabrina smiles. This is a significant improvement over the Izpris. There she was kept in a concrete cell with only a large brown wool blanket. Here she has a real bed, television, video games, a refrigerator with food, and much more. “Look what I got you on the way in,” Toy exclaims. “McDonalds(tm) Big Mac(R), Fries, and a Coke(tm)!” Sabrina squeals. “And some fruit too,” Toy says. “I made it a cherry Coke(tm).” Sabrina eats like a starved pig. Toy waits until she is finished before discussing her situation. Toy explains: “You are still the property of the Internet Cybersex Prison. They expect you to be on line at least eight hours a day, five days a week. Aside from that, you are totally mine. Does a girl understand?” “Yes Mistress,” Sabrina replies. “A girl understands very well.” A gynoid still is obliged to follow the fundamental principles of robotics. Toy must take care of Sabrina’s needs. However, she also must please the clients and patrons of Izpris. “You rest and enjoy this place, girl,” Toy states. “Tomorrow you are on line from eight o’clock in the morning until four o’clock in the afternoon. There will be no breaks. You are to be naked with Virtual Reality (VR) helmet, butt plug sensor, and high heel shoes. None of the computer driven hydraulics, pneumatics, electronics, or transducers.” “Thank you Mistress,” Sabrina responds. “Thank you very much.” “You should thank old Faustus,” Toy retorts. “It was his intellectual property that I stole to get you here and supply me with my necessities as well. But I really think that he was working the model for someone else.” “Oh Mistress who?” Sabrina asks. “I’m not sure,” Toy answers. “I suspect some Hollywood actress of the Twentieth Century.” There is uncertainty in her voice. Toy does not want to speculate without more convincing evidence. It is six o’clock in the morning and Sabrina is scheduled to be on line at eight o’clock. Toy has prepared Sabrina an American breakfast: Two eggs, hash brown potatoes, buttered toast, orange juice, and decaffeinated coffee. Sabrina takes a few bites and can’t continue. “This girl is used to kasha, Mistress,” Sabrina says. “I understand, girl,” Toy replies. She fixes her a bowl of oatmeal and Sabrina consumes it quickly. Sabrina then sits on the toilet. She is able to urinate but has some difficulty defecating. “Mistress, this girl has been given an enema every morning for months now. After the enema the sensor butt plug is inserted. She is having a problem now with her bowels.” Sabrina states matter-of-factly. Toy wastes no time in preparing a warm soapy water enema for Sabrina. Sabrina undresses completely and bends over for insertion of the nozzle. Toy lubricates the tip well with K.Y. Jelly(tm). Sabrina sighs with relief as she feels her bowels move. “Mistress,” Sabrina begs, “May a girl use the potty?” “Yes, girl,” Toy replies. Sabrina quickly sits on the western style commode and empties her bowels. Toy continues: “A girl is permitted to tend to her ablutions and insert the butt plug.” Sabrina had no such privileges in the prison. It is now past seven o’clock. Toy turns on the computer and accesses the portal for direct live feed. She hangs a dark sheet for background and adjusts the cameras. Lastly, Toy fetches the VR helmet for Sabrina and does a quick diagnostic check. Sabrina helps getting the device in place. Toy locks the helmet on. Once locked the eight hour timer begins. It has a time lock. On the computer screen the helmet’s and the sensor butt plug’s Head’s Up Displays (HUD) are active. The butt plug HUD transmits blood pressure, pulse, Galvanic skin response, anal sphincter tension, pubococcygeal muscle activity, neural synaptic information, vaginal undulation and peristaltic motion, and other lesser metrics. One important feature of the butt plug HUD is its ability to accurately determine the sexual arousal condition of the girl. This allows the controller to give electric shock and postpone a girl’s orgasm. By such an action a girl can be aroused again and again without being able to cum until permitted. The psychological effect is profound. The VR HUD projects a 3D image and measures Electro-Encephalogram activity (EEG). It has a powerful, directional magnetic field inducer. The actual thought patterns can be controlled. In particular, a part of the female brain associated with sexual desire can be accessed. The female subject can then be stimulated with an irresistible and uncontrollable desire to have sex. Once activated, she aggressively seeks out any partner; finding none she will masturbate. As she approaches climax, she may suffer from the butt plug. The approach-avoidance mechanism makes for an interesting psychological Leitmotif. It is nearly eight o’clock. Toy has Sabrina stand and puts on her red high heel shoes. These must be worn for eight hours. Sabrina must stand at all times except when entertaining a client. Sabrina knows that after a few hours of induced sexuality from the VR HUD and the discomfiture of standing in high heels that she will actively compete for an on line “John” or client. The prison matron comes on line and instructs Toy to arouse Sabrina to the point of climax. The matron sees two screens: A Real Life screen of a girl in VR helmet, butt plug, and red high heels and a 3D avatar display of two slave girls making love. Toy is a master at arousal. Soon Sabrina is brought to the edge of climax only to feel the strong electric shock. Her anal sphincters contract and her buttocks clench. The immediacy of the response means that Sabrina’s anus will be sore for some time. But she cannot resist the involuntary response. If she could somehow ignore Toy the matron would still use the VR helmet to force her into a sexually excited state. Icons and portraits of clients begin appearing on the video monitor. Sabrina tries to invite some of them to use her. There is fierce competition. The other girls are in similar situations and predicaments, some much more so than Sabrina. Since Sabrina is not fitted with the full ensemble of cybersex paraphernalia, she is not able to offer as full of a repertoire as the other girls. She tries to appeal to the imagination of the clients. The matron instructs Toy to arouse Sabrina again. Toy begins by feeling Sabrina’s breasts. She starts at the base and works up to the nipples. Prodding, poking, pinching, pulling, and probing, she feels the entire infrastructure of the perfectly proportioned mammary. She feels the adipose and mesentery tissue, the milk sacs and milk ducts, the arteries and veins, and the muscles and flesh. Nimble fingers deftly touch, caress, and fondle Sabrina’s teats. Then fingers are replaced with lips and tongue. The fingers glide down Sabrina’s velvet flesh to her hypogastric triangle, feeling her shaved pussy and reaching her pearl, the guardian of her Holy of Holies. A deftly inserted thumb quickly locates her Graefenberg G-spot while the other thumb and its associated index finger massage and knead her tiny clit. Sabrina’s sexual stimulation is immediate and unavoidable. She moans as she feels herself inextricably drawn to an earth-shattering climax. Then the paralyzing shock brings her back to an asexual base state. She is exhausted and it isn’t even ten o’clock in the morning yet. 28 October 2010 Taunus Trumbo The Model Ch. 21 The eight hour ordeal for Sabrina Barlot on the Cybersex Game Grid is finally over. The time release lock on her Virtual Reality (VR) helmet opens. Toy Euler rushes to give her water to drink, remove her huge, heavy, hard butt plug, and help her sit down in a chair. Toy then massages her feet, sore and swollen after eight hours of mostly standing in high heel shoes. Toy lifts up Sabrina and brings her over to a tub of hot water. Sabrina soaks a while and then is given some meat and vegetable soup. "It's hard getting a client without the other cybersex devices," Sabrina states. This session was her first after leaving the Internet Cybersex Prison (Izpris). "But being here is an improvement," she confessed. "In time this girl will adapt." Toy says nothing but rubs Sabrina's shoulders, calves, and feet. "You should let me take you to town," Sabrina suggests. "The locals need to know that Gale Goldsmythe is still alive. See, I have a total head skin, complete with wig." "Will a girl be permitted to grow her hair again, Mistress?" Sabrina asks. "How can you manage the VR helmet with all its transducers?" Toy answers a question with another question. "Understood Mistress," Sabrina answers. She pouts, knowing that she must remain bald. But it is important to continue the identity. Without a cover they would have extreme difficulties surviving. More than that, Toy can think of nothing worse that Sabrina escaping to the authorities. Toy would not be archived; she would be retired with extreme prejudice. And so a routine is established. Sabrina endures the eight-hour shifts and lives for the weekends. She is wheeled in a wheel chair by Toy to do groceries and the like. The disguise is nearly perfect. Toy is a near perfect human simulation, even spanning the Uncanny Valley. Here on the outskirts of civilization, in the New Mexico Bad Lands, inhabitants are suspicious of new comers. Toy is much too beautiful to be a prairie dweller---she must be an android, a gynoid even. Then one day the unlikely occurs. Sabrina is on the Cybersex Game Grid when a client named Krassius Kornu enters Sabrina's play area. Could this be her once captor Crassius Cornu? Toy is the only one who is aware of the danger. Sabrina never learned Crassius's name. Toy realizes that Crassius must be in dire straits to resort to a screen name so near to his real life name. Krassius Kornu pays the minimum price for a fifteen minute window of opportunity. Clearly he is no longer a gentleman of means; he surely isn't a man of substance in cyberspace anymore. Sabrina Barlot is on line. Sabrina Barlot assumes the Nadu position. Sabrina Barlot: How may a girl please a Master today? Krassius Kornu: Where is your side kick, girl? Toy Euler is on line. Toy Euler assumes the Tower posture, palms downward on her thighs. Toy Euler: Greetings Master. Krassius Kornu: Greetings girl. Toy Euler: How may we serve you Master? Krassius Kornu: Cut the crap Toy! You got some stuff from Faustus by theft or extortion and traded with the Fossil Fuel Fellowship (F^3). And here I am broke and having to work for Bob Huddlestone. You should have shared your find with me! Toy Euler: I have needs too, you sorry old curmudgeon! You were going to let the All American Android corporation repo me. My gynoid body would have been refurbished and all my Artificial Intelligence (AI) and memories archived. You are broke. That's Real Life. Krassius Kornu: You owe me! Toy Euler: I don't owe you squat. You aren't my registered owner. And lots of luck without money trying to find out who is too. Or have you forgotten about how information costs? Krassius Kornu: How come Sabrina isn't fully hooked up? Sabrina Barlot: Master will have to ask the management. Krassius Kornu: Well, I see you have Toy with you. This says some big bucks changed hands somewhere. Toy Euler: You are one of the "little people" now. Suck it in, dude! Krassius Kornu: I'll get money again. And when I do I promise you that I'll take my revenge on Sabrina and show no mercy. Toy Euler: Money talks, cash shouts, and bullshit walks. Right now your fifteen minutes of "shame" are over and it's time to pay more or say "good bye." You got your walking notice. Toy Euler is off line. Sabrina Barlot is off line. "What is going on with Master Krassius, Mistress?" Sabrina asks Toy after the session is over. "That avatar belongs to the churl who caged you after your abduction, Sabrina," Toy answered. "He used to own me as well, but he had a reversal of fortune and is now bankrupt." "Is he someone I should worry about, Mistress?" Sabrina inquires. "If he had enough money," Toy replies, "he could cause you problems. For example having you dance for eight hours straight and do exercises. But he is clearly impoverished, only able to make a minimum demand in the smallest time window." "Does Mistress think that he is right in saying that he will get money again?" Sabrina makes a very serious query. She has a troubled look on her face. "Anything is possible, girl, but it is very highly unlikely that he will be in the cat-bird seat any time soon," Toy responds. "He is not used to hard labor and will probably be no more than one of the 'little people' in the financial world." "Good to know, Mistress," Sabrina comments. "I was worried. But he had me caged and abused and sent to the Izpris! Shouldn't he be turned in to the authorities?" "What would happen to me?" Toy interjects. "My gynoid serial number would be traced and I would be accessed, deleted, and shred digitally." "Oh!" Sabrina utters. "Your existence depends on my inability to get justice." Sabrina quickly adds: "Mistress." "Sadly that seems true girl," Toy retorts. One pleasant aspect of Sabrina's time on the cybersex game grid is the involvement of F^3. Octanus Diesel frequents the Izpris site and buys four hours of Sabrina's time. After about fifteen minutes of foreplay, he induces her orgasm and leaves her with a balance of time. Sabrina is able to sit or even lie down for the balance of the time. During those free periods she is even able to view video clips or surf the Web. "Mistress, how nice Master Octanus is," Sabrina mentions. "And how cruel and threatening Master Krassius is." "Krassius has fallen from a favored position in the energy swindle to poverty. It is unlikely that he will regain his position. Without a sizeable bankroll it is unlikely that he will be able to afford very much time in Izpris. I do recall some Mistress who had your anus stretched nightly. She paid a premium, if I recall correctly. But here, not physically in the Internet Cybersex Prison, they options are limited" Toy remarks. "So Krassius cannot have me used outside of the eight hour window, Mistress?" Sabrina asks. "True," Toy answers. "The worst possible scenario is to be forced to dance for eight hours and be subject to constant sexual arousal while being denied a climax. But you can cope with that!" "Yes Mistress," Sabrina replies. 31 October 2010 Taunus Trumbo