Authors: Robin L. Rotham
“Well…I’m not sure. You know, Empran,” she said wryly, “in the future, it might be wise to announce a gift like that before dropping it in some unsuspecting girl’s palm. I mean, who knows where that thing has been?”
“I know. It has been in the flare generator.”
“That was a flare bubble?”
“Affirmative. It is a flare probe that has been modified for masturbatory purposes.”
“So it’s pure energy then?”
“Affirmative.”
“And I don’t have to worry about catching something from somebody who used it before me?”
“Negative. All probes are newly generated with each use.”
Shelley bit her lip. “How does it work?”
“Flare energy is generated by—”
“No, I mean how does one use it?”
“One places it in close proximity to one’s genitals, where it runs a complex program of stimulation matrices designed to induce orgasm.”
“Stimulation matrices? What does that mean?”
“Your probe is programmed to serve a number of sequential and simultaneous genital stimulation functions. The vaginal matrix is designed to simulate Ensign Hastion’s penis. The clitoral matrix—”
“What!” The words
Ensign Hastion’s penis
shocked every molecule of air out of her lungs. Shelley slapped her hands to her overheated cheeks, gasping repeatedly. “Jesus Christ, what the—I mean shit! Fuck! That’s just—”
“I fail to comprehend your query. Please rephrase.”
Finally, Shelley got a deep enough breath to shriek, “Oh my God, does Hastion know?”
“Negative. Full-body scans of all crew members are stored in my memory for proper garment and gear sizing.”
She collapsed onto her bed. “Oh thank God!”
She was going to kill Monica the next time she saw her. Or kiss her. It was too soon to tell yet.
“So did the probe break when I dropped it?” she asked tentatively. Jesus, was she really thinking about—
“Negative. The probe is available for use at your request.”
Shelley chewed on her thumbnail, her hormones at war with her self-respect. Finally her hormones pulled out the big guns, dangling an image of Hastion’s big, delicious cock before her inner eye.
She wanted it.
Sitting up, she held out her right hand, palm up. “All right, Empran, let’s try this again.”
“Affirmative.”
The probe appeared on her palm once more and Shelley stared at it. “Okay, now what?”
“The tutorial suggests assuming the position most conducive to orgasm for the user. For most females, the prone or supine position will optimize muscle relaxation. For most males, standing or kneeling will—”
“I get it, Empran, thank you,” Shelley said, blushing as she tugged down her panties with her free hand and kicked them off, and then unhooked her heavy-duty bra and slid it off over the probe. Leaning back on the bed, she spread her thighs.
Jeez, this was embarrassing.
“Empran, you can’t see me, can you?” she asked suddenly.
“I am not programmed to monitor you visually. Do you wish to record an image of your activities?”
“God, no!” The very idea made her throw up a little in the back of her throat. “So I just…put it where I want it?”
“In close proximity to—”
“Got it, thanks.” Taking a deep breath, she set the probe at the juncture of her thighs. Instantly it began to move, flattening and spreading to cover her whole blonde mound.
“Oh crap,” she whispered, clutching at the blanket with both hands as a light stroking sensation commenced all around her clit. Then the sensation was joined by a sinuous stroking into her vagina.
“The directions suggest manual stimulation of other erogenous zones concurrent with probe use,” Empran said.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Shelley said, “Thanks for the tip, Empran, but unless you’re going to talk dirty to me, please don’t say anything else, okay?”
“Do you wish me to talk dirty to you?”
“Please don’t!” she laughed. God, talk about disturbing. “Just…be quiet for now.”
“Affirmative.”
“Could you turn the music on in here, please? Maybe Chris Isaak’s ‘Wicked Game’ on a continuous loop?”
“Affirmative.”
The instant the music started, a whole world opened up behind her closed eyelids. Goose bumps erupted all over her body and she moaned. Holy crap, this was already the best sexual experience she’d ever had.
Shelley writhed, spreading her thighs wider as the stroking sensations became stronger and deeper, and the probe inside her grew thicker and harder. Longer.
“Oh yes,” she moaned. In her mind, it was Hastion sliding into her, and God, he was big. He braced himself on his elbows over her and began to thrust, cupping her breasts in his big hands, squeezing, shaping, pinching, even as his fingers worked both sides of her clit.
On fire, Shelley slid one hand up from her breast and sucked two fingers into her mouth, and suddenly the minister was there too. He held her head between his hands, pushing his cock between her lips.
She licked and sucked avidly, wanting him to fill her mouth to overflowing, to forge into her throat until she gagged and tears ran down her cheeks. He was so powerful and ruthless there was nothing she could do to stop him, nothing she
wanted
to do. She begged to be at his mercy, begged him to push her, to force her—
A tickling sensation at her anus made her freeze and clench everything as tight as she could. Oh hell no…
The probe ignored the emphatic
CLOSED!
sign on her back door, digging, digging…and then it snaked into her ass.
Her face burning, she rolled off the bed and tried to get ahold of the intruder from in front and behind. “Empran, what the hell?” she yelled. “Stop the program. I do
not
do anal.”
The probe stopped moving but didn’t retreat. “Program paused. Ensign Hastion’s spur has been programmed into the scenario to provide a more realistic experience. Do you wish to terminate prematurely?”
She snorted. “Been there and done that with my husband already, thanks.”
“Please clarify. Do you wish to terminate the program prematurely?”
Shelley wavered. Dammit, Hastion’s spur hadn’t even crossed her mind. Trust Monica to give her the whole alien package. “It’s just a spur, right? Nothing bigger?”
“Affirmative.”
Oh, what the hell. It wasn’t like she hadn’t wondered what sex with him would really be like, and sadly, this was probably the only way she’d find out. “Okay, keep going then, but if I say stop, you turn the damn thing off. Got it?”
“Affirmative.”
The probe resumed its fiendishly intuitive stroking of her pussy as it slithered deeper into her ass and Shelley dropped to her knees, still trying get some kind of hold on it just in case. Then the whole thing began to vibrate silently and she forgot about getting ahold of it, focusing instead on not screaming when she came.
Because she was going to come, and it was going to be a whopper.
Leaning on the edge of the bed, she grabbed two handfuls of the blanket to bury her face in and imagined Hastion behind her, driving his beautiful body into hers with all the ravenous determination she’d seen on his face at the mating demonstration. When her belly tightened and chills raced over her body, she prepared herself for the big one…
And the intensity dialed back to suborgasmic levels.
“Oh, you bitch!” she cried, reaching down to give the probe a good thwack as she gasped for air. “Dammit, Empran, is that it?”
“Negative. The probe is programmed to intensify your orgasm by delaying it.”
“I don’t want it delayed!”
“Affirmative. The second and third intervals have been deleted from this program.”
Shelley dropped her forehead to the bed in relief. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
The probe turned up the heat then, thrusting into her with ever-quickening strokes as she rocked forward and back. But this time it was the minister she saw behind her, holding her, controlling her as she writhed and whimpered and begged for more. The sensation was so real she could almost feel his electrifying power bearing down on her skin, so real she could almost smell his mouthwatering scent permeating her room. She was being fucked by one of the most beautiful aliens she’d ever seen and it was amazingly, monstrously good.
Sensation coalesced in her pelvis and she choked on her own pleasure, keening harshly as orgasm ripped through her, unraveling her from the inside out. The probe’s thrusts and the strokes on her clit continued until the brilliant spasms of release finally died away and then it paused, still filling both her tender openings and resting with vaguely tingly energy on her oversensitive clit.
Finally letting go of the blanket, she slid back to sit on her heels with a shaky laugh. “I have
got
to get me one of these!”
“Since you currently have one of these,” Empran said, “I assume you are quoting Captain Hiller’s line from the film
Independence Day
to express an analogous appreciation for alien technology.”
Shelley fell over in a pile of giggles. “Yes, Empran,” she said when she could catch her breath, “that’s exactly what I was doing.”
“The program is now complete. Do you wish to repeat or terminate?”
Her eyes widened as she rolled to her back. “You mean I can do that again?”
“You may run the program as many times as you wish.”
Shelley blinked and then grinned hugely. “Remind me to give Monica a big kiss tomorrow.”
“Affirmative.”
“Kidding, Empran,” she said with a laugh. “I won’t need a reminder. Go ahead and terminate the program and the music. I think I’m good for tonight.”
It was a little unnerving when the probe slid out of her like a real alien would before it dissolved. The sensation left her feeling emptier, and yet more satisfied, than she’d ever been in her life.
Rising on wobbly legs, she stumbled to her shower. Lost in the afterglow of simulated alien sex, she relaxed under the warm, gentle spray. She rubbed almond-scented scrub over her sated body, humming softly as she savored the heaviness in her pelvis. “Hey, Empran, does the probe only have one program?”
“Your probe is currently configured to deliver only the scenario Monica created, but you have special permission to create and save as many as five custom scenarios.”
Her hands slowed. “Custom scenarios?”
“Custom scenarios are programs in which you select the input details and output formats. For example, you may modify the current scenario to incorporate additional features from the same body scan, such as Ensign Hastion’s hands to restrain you, or his mouth to stimulate your breasts.”
Her knees nearly buckled and she leaned back against the wall for support. “Really?”
“Really. Or you might utilize the body scan of a different crew member in the same scenario. Or you might create an entirely new scenario utilizing one or more body scans to create the effect of multiple sexual partners. The potential configurations are infinite.”
“Multiple…
partners
?” Shelley squeezed her thighs together and covered her breasts with her palms. Good God, she might come again just from hearing the menu.
“As many partners as you desire, although the multiple penetration scenarios are naturally limited by the number and capacity of your orifices.”
Her hands immediately flew up to cover her scalding cheeks. “Empran!”
“Yes?”
“Just…never mind.”
After her shower, Shelley slipped a nightgown over her head and crawled under the blanket, expecting to fall asleep the minute her head landed on the pillow. But as delightfully drained as she felt, sleep eluded her, and she lay there in the dark thinking about the probe. Something Empran had said was niggling in the back of her mind but she couldn’t quite get ahold of it.
“Empran, I take it Monica uses a probe too?” she asked.
“Affirmative.”
“Does she create her own custom scenarios?”
“Affirmative. Her mates have added scenarios to her probe as well.”
Shelley nodded and then chuckled soundlessly at the sad irony of lying there in the dark sharing intimate secrets with the computer. “I like you, Empran. You’re more real to me, and certainly more honest, than my own husband ever was.”
There was a long pause, and then, “Really?”
She smiled. “Really.”
“Thank you, Shelley. I…like you too.”
“I’m glad.” The warm glow of companionship she felt was probably kind of silly since Empran was programmed to reply with whatever she deemed an appropriate response. Still, it was nice to have someone to talk to before she drifted off.
Suddenly the niggle crystallized into a question. “Empran, you said I have special permission to customize my probe?”
“Affirmative. Females and civilian males must have special permission from a ranking officer to modify the programming of their probes.”
Shelley sat up, suddenly breathless.
Ranking officer?