Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: Cherryrunner
Part: 1-2 (no sequel)
Author: Tiberius
Keywords: MMfg Sci-fi extreme fantasy, rape, ped, violation, torture.
Summary: In the closing decades of the 21st Century, Tyrent Corporation,
having completely dominated the world's computer software and IT
industries, sought to extend its dominance into the field of
bio-technology. Marrying these two technologies, it produced a range of
artificially created people - indistinguishable from normal men, women, and
children - for human enslavement purposes.  The most popular of these were
the 'copulants': synthetic people created for sex pleasure.







   Story Intro: (This is a sci-fi spoof of obvious derivation.) It is the
late 21st Century. Global IT/Bio-Tech corporation, Tyrent, rules the world.
All morality and ethics have disppeared.  Artificial people - known as
"copulants" - are manufactured by Tyrent for the sexual pleasure of humans.
Most popular are the "Cherries" -- pre and early teenaged children designed
for extreme and brutal sexual exploitation.  But a design error has
produced a batch of cherries resistent to sexual use.  Special police,
known as Cherryrunners, are employed to track down and violate aberrant
cherry copulants.  In this story Dick Prickhard, a disillusioned
ex-Cherryrunner, is coerced to hunt down a group of runaway cherry
copulants.  Along the way he finds Rachel -a perfect pre-teen cherry -and
becomes infatuated with her.











   WARNING ...  This story contains descriptions of sexual encounters
between pre-teenagers and adults.





   'Cherryrunner'

   by

   Tiberius







   INTRODUCTION



   In the closing decades of the 21st Century, Tyrent Corporation, having
completely dominated the world's computer software and IT industries,
sought to extend its dominance into the field of bio-technology.  Marrying
these two technologies, it produced a range of artificially created people
- indistinguishable from normal men, women, and children - for human
enslavement purposes.  The most popular of these were the 'copulants':
synthetic people created for sex pleasure.



   With all morality having vanished from earth under Tyrent's dictatorial
influence by 2080, the most popular of the copulants were the 'cherries':
pre and early teenaged children intended to happily and willingly be used
for adult sexual gratification purposes.  They were biologically and
genetically designed to withstand continual and violent sexual abuse in
order to give their human owners pleasure.



   After an "unintended design parameter" -- the term used to mean 'bug'
after the use of that term was deemed illegal by Tyrent Corp in 2081 -- in
certain batches of cherries produced children resistant to sexual pleasures
with adults, a group of enforcers, known as 'Cherryrunners' were created to
apprehend aberrant cherry copulants.  Their job was to brutally violate
them until they acquiesced to adult sexual pleasure.



   This was not called 'rape'.  It was called 'welcoming'.







   ## 1 ##



   Los Angeles: 2085



   'He say you Cherryrunner, Mr Prickhard,' the old chinese owner of the
noodle stand where I was sitting said pointing to the guy behind me.



   'Got the wrong guy pal,' I grumbled.



   'Mr Pliant want to see you,' the guy behind me said.  I pulled a face.
Sure I knew Pliant, chief of the Cherryrunner squad.  I'd worked for him
for several years.  But I'd had enough raping kids - even if they were
artificial - and watching them whimper and squeal as I tore into their
young tender orifices, ripping away their genital and anal tissues,
pummeling their tight bodies, until my seminal fluids gushed awash inside
them.  But I'd rather fuck than be fucked over, so I went with Stiff - that
was the name of the guy behind me, I'd seen him around - to see what Pliant
wanted this time.



   We headed off down the street toward Stiff's auto-hover through the
pouring rain.  It always rained, or seemed to.  The new greenhouse climate.
Few could remember anything different.  Around me the numerous gaudy neon
signs flashed and flickered, their reflections everywhere in the wet grimy
streets.  We passed through a sea of faces, as you would walking through
any part of this mega-city.  White, black, asian, hispanic, what have you.
Race and culture didn't matter any more, not like it did in the history
books I read.  They all blended together now; the lugubrious melting pot
where only money counted, and the few who had it, it seemed to me, must
have looked down upon the mass of us from their skyscraper mansions,
indifferent to the bustling and the grime.



   That's how I figured it, anyway, as Stiff maneuvered around the scrapers
in his auto-hover, heading towards Pliant's building.



   #



   'Sit down Prickhard,' Pliant said as I entered his office.  He was
almost friendly, not that it was sincere at all.  But I played along when
he offered me a drink.



   'Got a bad one,' he said looking sternly at him.  'Four hymen- jobs,
running around somewhere.  I need your old magic; I need the old
Cherryrunner.'



   "Hymen-jobs" - that's what Pliant called recalcitrant kiddy copulants.
In history books he's the kind of guy who used to call white guys
"honkies".



   'I was finished when I arrived,' I said grimly.  'Now I'm twice as
finished.' I stood to leave.  'Stop right there!' Pliant yelled at me.  'If
you're not cherry-cop, you're little wanker!' he barked at me.



   'No choice huh?'



   'No choice pal,' he said with a vile grin.



   #



   Two hours later I was at Tyrent Corp headquarters.  Pliant had sent me
there to test out a new type of kiddy copulant.  (It was part of my
preparation, he said.) If she failed the pussy- juice and question test,
I'd have to pop her cherry there and then.  The head of the company,
Giligan Bates -- now over a hundred and thirty years old, but going strong
because of anti-aging, life-extending medical technology perfected decades
ago, but strictly available to the world's rich and powerful elites -- met
me in his luxurious apartment at the top of the building.  Gil - who liked
to known as "Master" - met me warmly.



   'Well, Master Bates,' I said, 'do you have the test subject ready for
me?'



   The Master gestured to one side.  Over walked young Rachel.  What a
little cutie cherry copulant.  About twelve years old in appearance, with
dark shiny hair, a thin but elegant body, small bumps of titties as far as
I could see, and the face of an angel.  Or so it seemed.  From my
experience you could never be sure what these cherries were thinking.  It
all depended on their genetic design and induced emotional responses.  It
was my understanding that Rachel was recently manufactured, still virgin,
but emotionally conditioned for extreme violation by a human owner.  The
test would determine her degree of submissiveness and acquiescence.



   The Master sat her down for the test.  'Why are you testing me?' she
asked with a sweet young voice.  'Indulge me,' the Master replied softly.



   I got to work.  The child came and stood near me.  I pulled up the silky
dress which clung sensuously around her developing elegant young body, slid
down her little panties, and then inserted the vaginator up her lovely
smooth exquisite pussy.  The vaginator would measure her genital
juice-responses for the purpose of the test, and indicate any incongruity
between her physiological and spoken responses.  I pulled her soft silky
labial folds over the sensor array of the device, and secured the small
clamps.  She winced slightly and, I thought, adorably; but there was no
hint of resistance.  (I always did like this part of being a Cherryrunner.)



   'I'll ask you some questions, Rachel,' I said.  'Just answer normally.'
She nodded.



   'You're with your Master,' I began.  'He's watching the Intervision. 
You're naked beside him, and he's playing with your body.  He wants to push
his fingers up your bottom, but finds it's too tight.  What do you do?'



   Rachel blinked.  'Try to relax so his fingers go up my poop hole,' she
replied in a sweet voice.  I loved her voice.  It was as adorable as the
rest of her.  She was the most perfect pre- teenaged-looking copulant girl
I'd ever seen in my life.  I felt myself lusting for her.  Taking a deep
breath, I focused on the job I had to do.  The Master was scrutinizing me.
My infatuation for his prized cherry did not go unnoticed.



   I went on.  'Your Master is bursting to go to the toilet.  He takes you
into the bathroom, sits you down, and then pees into your mouth.  How do
you feel?'



   'I'd poke my tongue out while my Master pees, so he can see it flow down
my face.  And I'd swallow as much he wanted me to.'



   The words were good.  But the eyes told a different story.  I sensed
forced submissiveness.  I looked at the vaginator sticking out of her
beautiful smooth cunt crack, her delicate folds wrapped prettily around it.
I looked at the reading.  It was flashing a warning light -- too dry, not
enough juices oozing from her genitals.  But I could smell her pussy as I
got close.  Artificial or not, her aroma was wonderful.  I started to get
an erection, a massive one.  That would be good later if she failed the
test and I had to screw her; but for now I needed to focus once more.



   'The Master has three friends over,' I said continuing the test.  'They
strip you, insert things between your legs, and up your poop hole.  The
things stretch and hurt, make you bleed.  Then they put clamps on your
nipples.  The clamps cut into you, make you bleed there too.  And while
they're pushing things into your openings and squeezing your titties, you
have to suck and lick their sex organs and anuses.  Finally they all go to
the toilet over your body and face.  How would you like that?'



   Rachel paused.  'I ....  I...  would...' She stopped.  Tears ran down
her face, and her mouth quivered.  The test was over.  She'd been faking
all along.  She didn't enjoy the prospect of being a child sex toy after
all; didn't want to be raped and sodomized and tortured by men for their
pleasure.  But she knew enough to try and hide it.  She was definitely a
dangerous cherry copulant, at least as far as Pliant would be concerned. 
The Master had a look of disappointment on his face.



   I looked at Master Bates.  He nodded.  'I'm impressed,' he said,
referring to the test.  He knew Rachel would have to be forcefully welcomed
now: brutally violated until utterly acquiescent to human sexual pleasure.
It seemed such a damned shame to hurt such a perfect child beauty, I
thought.



   'I have a job to do,' I told him, preparing to undress in order to rape
Rachel.



   'That won't be necessary,' he said waving a hand.  'I'll give her to
five of my male employees tonight.  By the morning she'll ooze seminal
fluids from every opening and be utterly traumatized and compliant -- if
she survives the rigors of it, of course.' I knew what he meant.  Most
cherry copulants survive welcoming, but some don't; they rupture
irreparably, are terminated and then returned for element-recycling.



   I prepared to leave.  Looking at Rachel I felt very sorry for her.  She
looked at me with those big beautiful eyes.  She was so youthful and
lovely, but knowing as well.  The thought of five men holding her down and
tearing into her body disturbed me.  At least if I'd welcomed her I might
have gone easy with her.  But what was happening to me?  Cherryrunners
weren't supposed to have feelings for kiddy copulants.  But here I was
feeling sorry for her.



   I looked into her eyes.  Tears were streaming down her soft cheeks.  She
looked miserable.  But there was nothing I could do.



   As I left I asked Master Bates why he'd chosen Rachel for the test.



   'Rachel is an experiment -- nothing more,' he explained.  ' "More kiddy
than a kiddy" is our motto here at Tyrent for our cherry copulants.  She an
advanced prototype: a perfect prepubescent body; able, through genetic
design, to withstand assiduous and brutal sexual violation; and given
sophisticated emotional responses as well that will appeal to our more
discerning customers.  But,' he added, 'we need to enhance her capacity for
subservience -- just like the other aberrant child copulants you track
down. After she's been welcomed - providing she survives it - we'll put her
into service in an off-world mining colony kiddy sex house.'



   I left feeling bad.  There I was again -- feeling, for her; knowing what
they'd do to her -- destined to be raped by hundreds of burley miners every
day until she ruptured and they recycled her elements.  What was happening
to me?



   ## 2 ##



   Back in his office, Pliant gave me the low down on the other three
cherry copulants at loose.



   'This is Whora and Clita,' he said as we sat drinking whiskey.  'Basic
kiddy pleasure hymen-jobs.' Typical blond-haired blue- eyed ten year old
female cherries, I thought looking at their images.  Beautiful though. 
Budding titties, faint wisps of pubic hair, but pre-menstrual.  Very
popular models.  Tyrent sold huge numbers of them to grateful human owners,
particularly males, Pliant informed me.



   'And this is the leader, Joy,' Pliant said displaying an image of an
older copulant, an early-teenaged-looking dark-haired girl; beautiful,
lean, and slightly sexually developed.  'She and the blond hymen-jobs
escaped before a gang bang,' Pliant went on.  'Joy had been
pleasure-employed at her owner's house for over three years.  The whole
family of men and women had used her.  The other hymen-jobs were virgins,
just bought by the owner.  The night she escaped with the blond cherries,
she was scheduled to be lined up and screwed with them.  It would have been
her last service before retirement that night.'



   'Why retirement?' I asked.



   'A new Tyrent design parameter for kiddy hymen-jobs,' he told me.  'A
four-year lifespan; for these hymen-jobs that means nine to twelve years of
age; then they expire, as soon as they approach menstruation.  Their
insides gush out of their cunts, apparently -- womb, ovaries, the lot. 
Ooh, nasty,' Pliant added with a ghoulish look of enjoyment on his face.



   'So Joy ran off with the younger blond cherry copulants, right?' I
asked. 'Why?  -- she was approaching retirement anyway, wasn't she?'



   Pliant shrugged.  'You tell me paI, that's why you're here.'



   I frowned.  Pliant looked at me.  'I gather,' he continued, 'she wanted
to avoid the early retirement they had in mind for her later that night.'



   'Which was?'



   'Something nasty about being impaled and fucked on a horse cock. 
Apparently by the time the horse blows his wad and floods her insides with
cum, that's the end of her.' Pliant looked at me.  I think the idea of
retiring a kiddy copulant this way appealed to him.  'I guess her pussy and
insides would be pretty wrecked by the time old horsy dick ripped her open
and he blew his...'



   I used my hand to cut him off.  I didn't need him to draw me a picture.
Human owners using cherry copulants for bestial pleasures was well known.
Having huge dogs lick out and fuck very young cherries, like five years
olds, was very popular.



   Pliant had given me all he knew about the aberrant kiddy copulants. 
What I couldn't work out was what the leader, Joy, had in mind recruiting
the younger cherries, Whora and Clita.  Joy's days were numbered.  What did
she have to gain taking the others with her?  I had nothing to go on in
order to find them.  But I knew a good place to start.



   #



   Down in Hump Valley, the red-light area of the city, sex shows were
everywhere featuring kiddy copulants.  Kids and animals; kids and men; kids
and men and women -- if you could imagine it, it was down there.  The bars
wreaked of torn and bleeding youthful genitals, and other child-sex smells.



   Pliant had a theory that Joy might try to break into Tyrent Corp to find
out how to extend her four year life span, save her prepubescent friends,
or maybe even kill Master Bates.  On the last one I told him she should
take a number and stand in line!  He wasn't amused.  It didn't make any
sense to me, but, if he was right, maybe Joy was working in Hump Valley in
order to make contacts, or find a way into Tyrent.  (They ran the Valley,
just like they ran everything else.  They'd dominated all entertainment on
the planet since the mid century.) It was the best theory I had, anyway.



   I watched the show at Stiffy Lewis's for a while.  His bar was the best
in the Valley.  The first act was interesting enough: an eight year old (or
so) girl being simultaneously mouth, anal and vaginally screwed by a group
of well-endowed men.  They were obviously copulants too, judging by the
flood of semen that they emptied inside her, and which kept overflowing
from her orifices.  I was amazed she didn't tear open between her ass and
cunt holes.  She was probably genetically manufactured for kiddy sex
performances.  The crowd watching loved the moans of pleasure she made
during the assault on her thin young body.  Finally, she did tear in the
groin -- just as the last guy drowned her insides with seminal fluids.



   The second act really caught my intention, though.  It was a kiddy
copulant on stage fucking with a python snake.  She spread her legs and in
the snake went, right up her cunt.  She pulled it out, and then it
slithered into her again.  In and out the snake went.  Such a big snake,
for such a little vagina.  She couldn't have been more than ten or eleven
in appearance.  You could see her pussy stretched to the limit each time. I
liked the bit when she splayed the cheeks of her young ass, exposing her
pink anus, and let the snake slither along it.  Some guy watching yelled
out to her to shove the snake up her ass.  She didn't, or rather couldn't,
unfortunately, though she exposed her pinky anal entrance as much as
possible to it.



   It was a good act.  I'd seen it before, but this time the girl was
different.  Then I realized it was Whora - one of the runaway kiddy
copulants.  Her hair color was different - a wig - but it was definitely
her.  I had expected to find Joy, not one of the blond virgins.  Joy must
have planted her at Stiffy Lewis's place to get information.  Again I
wondered what Joy's plan was.



   There was no time to think about that.  My first priority was to welcome
Whora.  I waited until she finished.  Then I followed her back to the
change room.  She was showering when I walked in.  Nice young body; pouting
titties and very fine strands of fine pubic hair around her clit.  She
didn't seem to care that I was looking her over.



   'Hey little girl,' I said, putting on a dumb voice as I approached her
in the shower.  'I'm from the authorities.  Have they been treating you
good?'



   'Yes,' she replied apprehensively.  'Please leave me alone.  I just do
the show,' she added taking hold of a robe.  I could tell immediately that
she was resistive: an aberrant cherry.



   'Maybe Mr Lewis will let me play with you, huh, little girl?' I said
grinning.  'You can play with MY snake, OK?'



   Something gave me away.  She knew I was Cherryrunner, I guess.  She
bolted, wearing only the robe.  I chased after her, knocking down passers
by and various items in the way.  Running down a dead-end lane, I had her
cornered.  She smashed a window and tried to escape through a shop.  But it
was no good; I jumped her and she fell.



   I had her.  Now it was time to welcome her.



   ## 3 ##



   Whora fought and struggled, but it was no use.  I held her down while I
took out my prick.  Being artificial myself, it is enormous; genetically
designed to achieve two states of erection: the first, like a normal male,
to achieve vaginal penetration; the second, after penetration, produces
massive swelling, both in length and in girth.  A non-copulant female would
be torn open by such an organ.  However, female copulants have vaginas
biologically designed to withstand excessive violation, thrusting, ripping
and tearing.  This allows them to withstand daily rape and penetration
during their brief life- spans.  And they heal astonishing quickly as well.
Cherry copulants were also designed this way, though they ruptured more
easily of course.



   Which is just as well, as young Whora was very tight, and my boner was
particularly gigantic that day.  She screamed when I filled her sex
opening. I could feel her pussy gripping and flexing as I screwed her.  She
was too dry -- recalcitrant cherries usually are.  I could feel her insides
tearing.



   A cop came by while I was fucking her.  'Prickhard.  Cherryrunner unit,
ID:87876,' I told him.  He checked his Net- dbase, determined I was
genuine, and let me get on with fucking the ten year old.  He watched for a
while, even asked me to ass-fuck her, which I did, though I had to tear her
bowel lining to achieve full penetration.  Being artificial, however, she'd
heal within a few hours and be capable of sex (and shitting) again. 
Finally having watched enough, the cop left.



   I turned Whora over, and pussy fucked her again.  She wasn't screaming
anymore.  A smile was on her lips.  The welcoming was proving successful.
That's what it does; brutal violation produces a change in the
pleasure-sensory area of their brain - reversing the design error made
during manufacture.  It makes them behave like 'normal' cherry copulants:
pain becomes pleasurable; the more excruciating, the more enjoyable.



   I grunted and climaxed, emptying a load of semen inside her -- at least
six times as much as a non-artifical male.  Semen, blood and vaginal
lubricant soaked our groins as I continued to thrust into her.  I was
working toward a second climax, this time a load so thick and hot it would
feel like an eruption of acid inside a non-copulant's female's vagina.  If
Whora absorbed my second burning ejaculate without complaint, it would
indicate she'd been successfully welcomed -- the faulty emotions in her
brain which had caused recalcitrance had been replaced by submissive
pleasure-emotional responses.



   I kept humping her.  She was now rocking against me to assist total
penetration.  My second load exploded deep inside her.  I grimaced and
willed the spurts deep into her body.  She accepted the hot burning
ejaculate without compliant.  I finished off by biting her lovely little
nipples until they bled.  When I stood up, she remained there, legs apart,
hot semen - colored by blood - streaming out of her vagina on to the floor.



   I vision-phoned Pliant to tell him Whora had been completely welcomed
and could be collected for her human master.



   'I'm still looking for Joy and Clita,' I told him.



   'And add that hymen-job from Tyrent Corporation to your list as well,'
he informed me.



   'Rachel?' I said with amazement.  'She's bolted, and Master Bates is
furious,' he replied.



   This wasn't good news.



   #



   The report would say a routine vaginal and anal rape-welcoming of an
aberrant kiddy copulant.  But that didn't make me feel any better about
brutally violating a ten tear old child.  There it was again; feeling bad;
about kiddy copulants; about Rachel.  I could brutalize the other cherries
and rationalize that I had to do it out of necessity, and my own survival.
But how could I force myself to tear Rachel open with my prick?  There was
something about her...  She was such a perfectly beautiful young girl, too
beautiful to brutalize -- or at least I couldn't, anyway.  I just hoped I
wouldn't see her again.  If I got the others, Pliant would let me off if I
failed on her.



   #



   I arrived back in my place at Philip K.  Dick apartment building, dog
tired and feeling despondent.  As I opened the door with my electronic key,
I swung around, and, out of instinct, drew my heavy-calibre electronic
pistol.  A girl flinched.  It was Rachel standing there, wearing an
expensive black silk dress which followed the contour of her young, lean
undeveloped body perfectly.



   I let her in.  'You shouldn't be here,' I told her.  'I'm supposed to
find and welcome you too now.'



   'I know,' she said sadly.  'I ran away from the Master's place.  He knew
I hated giving pleasure.  After your test ...  well, anyway, they planned
to welcome and then export me off-world.  I overhead them planning it.'



   'I'm sorry,' I said, my voice redolent with guilt.



   'It doesn't matter,' she said bravely.  'I know I have to be welcomed,
but I want you to do it.  My torture should be for you alone,' she told me.




   It was then that I realized why Rachel was so special: a beautiful
child, elegant in her prepubescent underdevelopment, but mature, sensitive
and thoughtful.  Only a copulant child could have all these qualities,
bio-genetically induced though they may have been.  To the Master, she was
a failed proto-type cherry.  To me, she was youthful, sexual perfection. 
Tyrent Corporation have may done a masterful job in creating her; but
Master Bates' thugs musn't be allowed to tear open and torture her body to
achieve sexual acquiescence.



   I would do it, and then she'd be mine.



   ## 4 ##



   A young girl's scream filled my room.  I proceeded immediately to the
business of welcoming Rachel.  She begged me too.  'If I have to be
someone's pleasure slave,' she said, 'I want to be yours.'



   I tied her to the bed, naked, legs and arms spread wide, her beautiful
vagina exposed and gaping to my view.  The scream came when I rammed her
full throttle between the legs with what was already a stage two erection.
I felt her tissues tear as I filled and stretched her.  My first gush of
cum came very quickly.  As I kept screwing her, white sticky fluid oozed
out around her labia and down her thighs.  She was still grimacing in pain
-- the emotional-reversal process having not yet taken place in her brain.
Until it did, the procedure would be agony for her.  I had to increase the
level of brutality.  I whispered to her gently, explaining what I had to
do. She nodded.  Rachel knew I had to be cruel in order to free her from
the pain.



   I found some pins and stuck them through her nipples, clitoris, and
outer labia.  Her face went red from the suffering.  I fisted her vaginally
for a while, hoping she'd cross the threshold and be released from the
agony.  When that didn't work, I untied her legs, turned her to one side,
and rammed her rectum.  The thrust tore the lining between her anus and
vagina.  She screamed as I wallowed in blood up her asshole, then fell
suddenly silent.  Cries became moans of pleasure.  She was now heading for
ecstacy.  I kept humping her.  She bucked and cried out, and then shuddered
in orgasm.  A torrent of lubricant ejaculated from her vagina, though it
was tainted with blood.  I focused and held her hard, twisting the pins in
her nipples as I approached orgasm.  Her spiked titties gave her enormous
pleasure now that the sensory-reversal process had been achieved in her
brain.  She came a second time.  I slipped my cock into her torn vagina,
and felt my second load approach.  My explosion not long after made us both
convulse; I lost count of the number of thick, hot, acidic spurts of semen
I emptied inside her.  I only knew that after I finished ejaculating, we
were both drenched in and smeared with with our combined sexual fluids and
secretions.



   We quickly fell asleep.  Rachel looked so adorable as she slept in my
arms.  I wondered if she was dreaming electric sheep.



   #



   The next morning I hit the trail in my quest for Joy and Clita.  I left
Rachel in my apartment, with strict instructions not to answer the
visionphone, or open the door.  It was ironic, but she'd be safe at my
place.  We woke that morning, caked in dried blood, semen and vaginal
lubricant, but refreshed.  During the night, Rachel's body had healed
completely; her torn orifices were as good as new, as were her nipples and
vaginal folds.  I guess I understood at that moment the appeal of cherry
copulants for their human owners: one could inflict every type of torture
on them, over and over, at least until they retired after four years when
their insides gushed out of their beautiful twats.



   Having been welcomed - sensorially reversed - Rachel was now relaxed and
compliant.  She swore to serve me faithfully.  This wasn't just the result
of her biological-emotional conditioning; she wanted it that way.  In
return I undertook to protect her from Master Bates, his thugs, and the
prospect of banishment off-world into sexual slavery.  After I finished
this job for Pliant, and hunted down the two aberrant copulants, well, we'd
have to work out what to do.  'Head up north,' I told Rachel, 'away from
the city, in the mountains somewhere.' She liked the idea.



   I fucked her up the ass just before I left.  Her body induced constant
desire in me.  I tore her bowel lining again as I climaxed thick acrid
semen up her butt.  It gave her enormous pleasure.  I left her with blood
streaming down her thighs from her anus, and a warm satisfied smile on her
face.  By the time I returned that evening, her rectum would heal again.  I
was already looking forward to pleasuring her then.  Rupturing her tight
exquisite vagina, and penetrating and inseminating her uterus came to mind.



   #



   Pliant visionphoned me about an hour later while I was checking out some
leads.  Master Bates was dead, he told me.  Joy, the renegade copulant
leader, had broken into the Master's luxury apartment on top of Tyrent
Corporation's building.



   'That hymen-job cunt bit his dick off.  Can you believe that!?' Pliant
said incredulously.  I was ready to believe anything.  But Joy killing the
Master made no sense.  The killing had, however, been captured on an
internal camera system in his bedroom.  (He'd used it to record himself
fucking toddler and little kiddy cherry copulants, apparently -- special
batches manufactured specifically for him.  It was rumored he also screwed
real - that is non-artificial - little kids as well.  Whatever the truth,
this time he'd recorded his own murder.)



   I asked Pliant to download the footage to my portable visionphone.  It
arrived shortly afterwards.  Joy had been taken to the Master's apartment
by some guy called F.J.  Crackbastian, who knew Bates.  (She killed him
soon after dispatching the Master.) I sat in my auto-hover and watched the
downloaded film: "What do you want, Joy?" the Master had asked with
surprise.



   "I want more sex life, fucker!" she replied bitterly.



   "The pussy that fucks ten times as hard, only lasts ten percent as
long," he told her with a smile, "and you have fucked so very very hard,
Joy."



   Joy didn't look pleased.  Then a smile came over her face.  "It isn't
easy going down on one's own maker," she told him.



   "See what he can do for you," he said with a snide grin.



   Joy fell to her knees.  The Master slipped his prick out and held it to
her face.  She may have looked like a young girl, but this prepubescent
copulant could suck cock!  She held it gently, licked it lovingly, and then
took him in her mouth and sucked him expertly.  The Master could be seen
moaning in delight.  She sucked and licked until he approached orgasm. 
Dribbles of pre-cum seemed to drop from his prick; then she held him back.
She did it time and time again, bringing him to the brink, and then pulling
back.  He started to beg for release - even tried to jerk himself off for
relief - but Joy wouldn't let him.  Finally, she sucked like a Trojan,
drawing his seed out, until he exploded, ejaculating many times over her
face and hair.  And then, on the last spurt, with a final look of
gratification on his face, Joy chomped down hard on the Master's dick,
cutting it off at the base of his shaft near his balls.  The Master
screamed, and then appeared to drop down dead.  The shock, Pliant had told
me, had killed him.  What a way to go, I thought to myself.  The footage
ends with Joy spitting out the Master bloody organ and chasing after her
accomplice, whom she killed out of camera.



   #



   So Master Bates was dead.  Pliant read me the riot act: I had to catch
Joy as a matter of urgency.  Now she'd killed a human - the Master at that
- she was destined for a gruesome recycling.  Having her insides fall out
of her twat would be mild compared to what awaited her now.



   I decided to check out the address of this guy Crackbastian who'd helped
Joy break into the Master's apartment.  It was the only lead I had.



   When I arrived, all was quiet.  The place was weird, full of large sized
dolls and other odd memorabilia.  I walked carefully, sensing that
something was going on.  Suddenly, she was on me!  It was Clita, a pretty,
leggy, blond-haired ten year old.  She knew why I was there.  I managed to
throw her to the ground.  I ripped her clothes off, though with some
effort. Getting my dick into her small tight vagina in order to welcome her
proved difficult.  She struggled and resisted with all her might.  Even
with a massive second-stage erection I couldn't get the angle to perforate
her pussy.  Finally I decided to try something else.  I pressed my knee
into her belly to hold her down, reached for my large electronic hand
weapon, inserted the barrel into her small twat, and drove it in with full
force.  A splash a blood gushed back over my hand simultaneously with her
scream.  The shock was so great to her, she was welcomed immediately. 
Clita ceased screaming and began moaning in pleasure as I fucked her with
my gun.



   I removed my gun from her shredded vagina and finished her off with my
prick.  She had a lovely pre-adolescent body -- lean, athletic and willowy.
Even with the tearing and the blood, her pussy hole felt incredibly tight.
By the time I screwed her, I had a full-on erection: maximum thickness and
length.  I felt her vaginal wall tear some more as I humped in and out of
her.  At maximum thrust I sensed the tip of my engorged organ perforate
something deep inside her; either her womb or her intestines, I guessed. 
All I could think of was getting a hot sticky load into her ruptured belly
and sending her back to her owner, welcomed and thoroughly compliant.  I
wanted to get it over with.  Also, the danger that Joy might turn up and
attack me seemed a real possibility.  She could be lurking anywhere.



   I exploded a few minutes later inside her, but not in her pussy.  At the
last minute I turned her over and gave it to her up the butt.  The
tightness of her rectum lasted only briefly; when her lining tore
completely, I was fucking in pure bloody mush.  Finally, as I erupted
concentrated burning seminal fluid up her asshole, I felt the not
unpleasant sensation of my dick thrusting into her shit deep in her bowels.



   It would be a lie to say I didn't enjoy my orgasm and relief.  Despite
fluids, bodily waste and cum streaming out of her ravaged orifices, Clita
beamed with pleasure.  She was now totally welcomed.  I called Pliant, told
him to come and get her.  By tomorrow, I thought to myself, she'd be
thoroughly healed and servicing human masters with her young beautiful lean
body.  This thought made me feel better.



   While waiting for Pliant, I thought of Rachel back in my apartment. 
Despite my release with the aberrant cherry copulant Clita, I couldn't wait
to be back with Rachel, tearing apart her lovely openings with my prick,
and squirting hot burning semen inside her.



   ## 5 ##



   I didn't get much time to think about Rachel.



   From behind I felt a blow to my head.  I was briefly dazed, but turned
around to see Joy.  She must have arrived while I was violating Clita, and
even watched until I finished fucking her friend.



   'Joy!' I exclaimed.



   'Proud of yourself?' she yelled at me.  What could I say?  That I had no
choice?  No explanation could suffice.  My only option was to finish my
assignment and get back to Rachel before Pliant or one of his other
cherryrunners found her, tore her orifices open and then sent her
off-world.



   With awesome speed, Joy kicked me straight in the testicles.  As I bent
over in pain, I heard her say, 'That one was for Whora.' With precise
aiming, and despite my bent-over posture, she directed her foot into my
balls again.  'And that one was for Clita,' she added.  Then she ran off,
leaving me on the ground trying to recover.



   Fortunately, being artificial, I recovered quickly.  By prick and nuts
hurt like hell, but I'd still be able to screw her if I captured her,
though something told me Joy was beyond welcoming.  I'd probably have to
terminate her, which was difficult to do to a female copulant and involved
deep vaginal fisting in order to pull her insides out.  I hoped I wouldn't
have to do it.  As I chased after her, I hoped to secure her and leave the
messy stuff to Pliant and his helpers.



   I chased after her to the upper levels of the building.  I could hear
her calling out to me, taunting me, deriding me.  She wasn't trying to get
away, I realized.  There was no point.  Where could she run now?  Her
accomplices were gone; welcomed into sexual service, destined to service
humans with their undeveloped prepubescent bodies.  Joy was approaching
retirement anyway.  She had little time left for anything; escape was
pointless now.



   I found her on the top of the building.  I could see her, but a barrier,
a wire wall, prevented me from capturing her.  We looked at each other
across the obstruction.  She gave me a wry smile, and then undressed. 
Standing naked, I looked admiringly at her lean young body.  She truly was
beautiful.  The finest pubic hairs were evident along the crack of her
perfect, genetically designed vagina.  Menstruation couldn't be far off, I
thought.  She would bleed, gush her insides out, and die.



   'You think you have a prick big enough to welcome me?' she said mocking
me.  I nodded, feeling a bit stupid but unable to think of a better reply.



   Joy looked to the ground.  A metal pipe was sticking out from some piece
of machinery that had been dumped there.  I watched as Joy stepped over it,
and then sat in a squat position.  She gave me a contemptuous glare, and
then impaled herself vaginally on the protruding pipe.  She pressed down
until at least ten inches of the metal was inserted between her legs. 
Blood streamed out of her twat.  Then she started to rock up and down on
it, masturbating on the pipe.



   'Do you think you could perforate me any better than this metal dick?'
she asked.  'No,' I replied solemnly.  'And yet still I don't feel like
being your slave,' she said.  I looked at her.  She had made her point. 
There was no way to welcome her.  No amount of sexual brutality, vaginal or
anal perforation or tearing, could counter-polarize the pain- pleasure
receptors of her brain.



   I didn't need any more convincing.  But, as if to make the point for
certain, Joy then impaled herself anally on the metal pipe as well.  She
pressed down so hard, it must have torn through her bowel into her
intestines.  But Joy's further demonstration was wasted on me.  I thought
only of reaching and securing her somehow; to end it for her, and for me.



   I saw what appeared to be a weak area of the wall between us.  Maybe I'd
be able to break through it.  Several times I kicked the meshed wire
material.  It seemed as though I was making progress.  Joy was watching me.
Then I saw her grab her belly.  Dark, thick blood oozed from her vagina. 
But it wasn't from the ripping and tearing of having impaled herself on the
metal.  Something else was happening.  I quickly deduced what it was. 
'No!' she exclaimed.  'Not yet!' She stood up and away from the protruding
blood-smeared pipe.  I was right: she was approaching her first (and last)
period.



   I managed finally to kick through the wall.  But as I ran toward Joy she
surprised me by jumping on to the roof of the adjacent building.  As soon
as she landed, a gush of blood and disintegrating internal sexual organs
fell from her pussy to the ground.  Chasing her seemed almost pointless,
but I had a job to do.  I leapt, but fell short of the mark.  Instead of
landing firmly next to her, I hit the gutter rail and had to hang on to it
to prevent myself from falling to the street below.  I struggled to climb
safely to the roof, but kept slipping.  I was hanging on by my fingers.  As
I looked up, Joy suddenly appeared over the edge, and looked down on me. 
She was clutching her belly, fiercely.  Totally vulnerable, I was aware
that if she hit me with something, or stamped on my fingers, I was
finished. She came even closer to the edge.  I expected the worst.



   Joy turned slightly, so that her groin was above my face.  I felt
splashes of her ruptured insides hit my face.  'I've done things you
wouldn't believe,' she said to me.  'Had three guys' dicks up my ass at the
same time; felt the rough tongues of big dogs licking my poop hole and
pussy crack; gone to bed with doggy cum swimming inside my belly; licked
out menstruating women while their husbands shoved their dicks up my butt;
licked baby dicks and cunts to please their mothers and fathers; eaten
shit, drunk piss; had mice pushed into my pussy and felt them nibble inside
me...'



   At just that moment Joy grimaced and half-squat, and a splatter of her
bloody womb and ovary tissue hit me in the face.  Some of her poop and piss
also hit me, just for good measure.  She was letting it go all over me.



   'I never enjoyed any of those moments,' she went on.  'But soon, they'll
all be lost anyway.'



   I didn't have anything to say.  I just turned my face as a final gush of
her reproductive organs streamed out of her vagina and poured over my head.
Then she collapsed and lay still.



   Somehow I managed to climb safely to the roof.  There was nothing I
could do to or for Joy now.  She was beyond welcoming, and a final act of
necrophilia to end my day held little appeal.  Anyway, soiled as I was with
blood, female reproductive tissue, and bodily wastes, I wasn't much in the
mood for it.  Apart from all that, there was no point.  Pliant would know
that I hadn't fucked her, but he wouldn't care.  Torn apart by my prick, or
internally disintegrated, it didn't matter to him, so long as she was no
longer a problem cherry runaway.



   My thoughts returned to Rachel.



   ## 6.  ##



   I waited for Pliant to arrive to collect Joy's remains, and then left
shortly afterwards.  He found my appearance amusing, splattered as I was
with Joy's sexual innards and toilet waste.



   'He's a one-man goddam hymen-job slaughter house, that's what he is,'
Pliant said grinning at me in front of the others.  It was his way of
paying me a compliment, I guess.  But I wasn't in the mood for it.  I
grunted ungraciously and departed.



   'Now just to pop that last runaway cherry hymen-job kiddy cunt, and
you're all through,' Pliant call out as I was leaving.  He was referring to
Rachel, of course.  I raced back to my apartment, hoping she'd be there;
hoping she was safe.



   #



   I opened the door to my place and then proceeded slowly.  Something felt
wrong, and alarm bells rang in my head.  There was total quiet, so noise or
music or sound whatsoever.  I caught sight of the bed.  The contour
indicated a figure underneath the sheets, but completely covered.  I
gulped. Maybe it was Rachel.  Maybe she was dead, one of Pliant's
cherryrunners having found her while I was chasing Joy and Clita.  His last
comment might have been a little joke, knowing that I was racing back to my
apartment to find her; he was capable of such ghoulish humor.



   I pulled the blanket back slowly.  It was Rachel underneath, and she was
completely still.  I went cold.  But then suddenly she stirred, and I knew
she'd only been in a deep sleep.  The relief I felt was enormous.



   Rachel looked at me, covered as I was with Joy's organs and fluids.  I
hadn't even bothered to shower.  She laughed, and wiped away bits of
avaries, womb tissue, blood and shit from my face.  It seemed to amuse her.



   Then I noticed globs of male semen in her lovely long dark wavy hair,
and some on her forehead.  The cum, however, wasn't mine from earlier that
day.  It took me a moment to realize what had happened.  One of Pliant's
cherryrunners - probably Stiff - had dropped by while I was away and had
discovered Rachel sleeping.  For whatever reason, he hadn't welcomed or
terminated her but left her unharmed.  He had, however, jerked off over her
while she slept.  I should have felt angry, but I was just grateful she was
still alive.  And, anyway, she was an adorably beautiful child; I could
understand any guy wanting to spurt his sticky load over her lovely face
while she slept.



   I took her in my arms, me splashed in a young girl's blood, guts and
excrement, and she with another man's drying cum on her face.  We embraced
and kissed passionately.  There was no time to lose; we had to get away as
soon as possible.  But I couldn't help screwing her before our hasty
departure.



   I had a massive stage two erection, surging and throbbing; no doubt my
semen would be especially acidic and burning when I unleased it inside her,
I thought.  It didn't matter.  I needed to tear her open vaginally, and
spurt the contents of my swollen testes into her womb.



   'Daddy-Prickhard!' she screamed out in pleasure as I impaled her.  She
hadn't called me that before.  I loved it.  I felt her sexual sheath tear
as I filled her.  My prick was almost at maximum girth and length.  It
would have ruptured and killed a non-artificial young girl; even a woman
would be been irreparably damaged.  But Rachel's body, which converted
excruciating pain into waves of exquisite pleasure, could take the tearing
and heal in hours.



   I pounded into her bio-genetically produced sheath with maximum depth
until I felt a blockage: the entrance to her womb.  She wrapped her legs
around me.  Blood spurted out from her vagina with each of my thrusts; I
could feel it, hot and sticky, run off my balls as I continued my gruelling
effort towards climax and relief.  Rachel cried out and dug her fingernails
into my back; the pleasure was overwhelming for her.  Suddenly, the barrier
I was thrusting against gave way.  'Oh!' she bellowed from the depth of my
penetration.  I felt another gush of fluid stream out of her.  Now I was
fucking into her womb.  A moment later I exploded and sucked in air and
grunted with each thrust as successive spurts of burning acidic cum lodged
in her uterus.



   ## 7 ##



   We fell asleep entwined in each other's arms, my prick still penetrating
her insides.  We slept briefly but deeply.  When I awoke, I found it
slightly difficult at first to remove my semi-flaccid dick out of her torn
opening because of the dried blood.  When I did, she opened her eyes. 
Though groggily half asleep, after seeing my organ she took it with her
small elegant hand and gave it a pleasurable squeeze.  As it swelled again,
and despite the coating of blood and gunk, she slipped her mouth over my
knob and sucked on me.  The feel of her lips drawing in my prick was
delicious.



   I was acutely aware that we needed to leave as soon as possible.  But
her sucking induced an overpowering need in me to climax again.  This time
my semen would be especially concentrated and acidic.  She knew it too.  'I
want to taste your burning cum, Daddy Prickhard,' she mumbled as she blew
me.  I wanted her to taste it too; to see it sizzle and froth around her
mouth, on her lips, against her tongue.  But as my prick grew towards
maximum erection, I withdrew from her pretty small mouth.  Any more and her
mouth would tear at the corners.  Sure, she'd heal - and quickly too - just
like her pussy and poop holes always did after I fucked-ripped her open. 
But I didn't like the idea of us travelling that day while her torn
bloodied mouth healed.



   She looked disappointed when I took my cock out of her mouth.  I gave
her a reassuring smile.  Turning her on her side, I screwed her up the ass
for a few minutes, ripping her sphincter muscle apart as I entered, before
finally pounding my wad fully into her bowels.  I felt my cum approaching.
'I'll empty into your mouth, baby,' I told her through clenched teeth as I
rutted into her rectum.  A smile came to her mouth.  'Oh good, daddy....'
she whispered in her pleasure, as her brain converted my violent assault up
her butt hole into waves of wondrous satisfaction.  I could tell she was
looking forward to receiving my hot burning cum into her mouth.  It would
burn her lips and tongue like acid, but, to her contra-wired kiddy copulant
brain, it would taste delicious.



   Then, as climax approached, I was suddenly overwhelmed by a desire to
guts-fuck her.  It's a favorite amongst human owners of kiddy copulants,
though I'd never before felt the urge.  But now I wanted to do it all to
Rachel, including that.  I was overwhelmed by desire to thrust my cock into
her pulsating insides.



   I placed her on her back again.  Taking hold of a knife nearby, I made
an incision about three inches long, just below her navel.  She looked at
me approvingly while I cut the opening into her belly.  I wasted little
time slipping my cock inside her.  As I fucked into her belly, I felt the
unique pleasure of my dick rubbing against her intestines and internal
organs, so smooth and slippery and hot and mushy.  So slippery and delicate
was the sensation, I was overcome with a feeling of gratification.  I could
have gushed burning cum inside her guts, but I held back.  Lots of human
guys got off fucking into the intestines and internal organs of kiddy
copulants, I knew that.  Now I knew why: their warmth, texture and
stimulation were distinctively different from tight gripping orifices, but
acutely pleasurable nonetheless.  I thrust deeper and then in different
directions inside her abdomen.  A smooth firm barrier pressed against the
tip of my prick.  A delightful sensation.  It must have been the lining of
her stomach.  I pressed hard against it.



   Rachel moaned from the feeling of my cock pushing deep into her innards.
Only two artificials could experience (and survive) such enjoyment.  I was
consumed by the sensation of my cock ensconced and caressed by Rachel's
intestines and organs, the twitching and flexing of her insides providing
unique stimulation.  I was bursting to come, but still held back.



   I withdrew, and, in my arousal and barely-contained build up to
ejaculation, prepared to flood her mouth with my sizzling concentrated
semen.  But a further desire took hold of me.  I took hold of the knife and
made a further incision of several inches just below her chest cavity.  She
knew what I was up to, sighed deeply, grasped my throbbing prick, inserted
it into the cut I had made, and then nodded.  I thrust into her chest until
I felt my cock caress against her heaving lungs and pulsating heart.  I
could feel every beat, every pulse, every movement of her young palpitating
heart, racing ever more quickly as I pressed the glans of my cock against
it.  She pulled tightly on my buttocks as I fucked into her chest, drawing
me even more firmly against her heart and lungs.



   The throbbing and pumping of her heart against my cock was so intense it
pushed me over the edge and I couldn't help myself from climaxing.  For a
moment I considered flooding her heart and lungs with my semen.  But, she,
sensing I was about to shoot my load, opened her pretty mouth and licked
her lips, reminding me that that she wanted to taste my acidic load.  I
withdrew from her chest, and, just as the spurts started, aimed for her
pretty lips.



   The burning viscous fluid from my testes splashed over her chin, mouth
and cheeks.  Even as I exploded in gratification and relief, I could see
the fluid sizzling on her lovely skin.  She licked the load in with her
tongue, gulping and swallowing in ecstacy; I could see faint fumes rising
from her mouth as she took it in.



   I fell on the bed, again spent from the exertion and the release of
pleasure.



   'We must leave, Rachel,' I said, 'or else someone might come to ...'



   '...I know,' she said.  'I'll go anywhere with you.'



   #



   Though I tried hard to resist sleep, it overtook me.  The gentle sucking
of Rachel's cummy mouth on my nipple helped induced it.  I nodded off
fingering her torn vagina with one finger, and fingering her intestines
through the hole I'd made in her belly with another.  I heard her sigh with
pleasure.  I adored the warmth and feel of her insides as I played and
probed.  I'd loved the pleasure of gut and chest fucking her.  For as long
as we were together, I make it a regular part of my enjoyment of her.



   Later, we headed off north, hopefully safe from Pliant and his goons,
and the human masters.  By then her torn vagina and anus -- as well as the
gaping holes I'd made in her belly and chest for my pleasure -- had healed.
The thought of losing her in two years -- her sexual organs disintegrating
and gushing out between her legs at the onset of menstruation -- was
disturbing.  But Rachel was special, Bates had said; an advanced prototype
kiddy copulant for the more discerning human owner seeking a pre-teenaged
sex slave.  And no termination date.  I didn't know how long we'd have
together so I could tear into her orifices and entrails with my prick for
my pleasure and gratification.  No one ever does.  But I'd take my chances
with Rachel.


'Cherryrunner2:

   The Reincarnation of Rachel'





   * O N E *
California: 2087



   I always knew it was too good to last; even still, I kept hoping I was
wrong and that the bliss and happiness I enjoyed with Rachel would go on
until our superior, genetically-designed, artificially-manufactured bodies
ceased to function from extreme old age or some other natural cause.  In
retrospect, it was a naive hope.



   It had been two years since Rachel and I fled the city, Tyrent
Corporation's goons, and Pliant's heavies.  Up in the mountains, Rachel and
I enjoyed our solitude and safety: a cabin with all hi- tech conveniences,
and clean air and natural surrounding beauty.  We enjoyed many things: our
life together, and the seclusion of our tranquil sanctuary far from the
madness of the meg-city.



   But most of all we enjoyed great torture.  Rachel's perfect pre-
teenaged copulant body on the cusp of adolescence - designed for extreme
violation with a reverse-wired brain which turned pain to pleasure - gave
me endless gratification.  And this, together with her unflinching loyalty
and affection - not to mention her inexhaustible sex drive and desire for
brutal ecstacy - meant I was a very happy ex-cherryrunner.



   Only the prospect of Rachel's menstruation troubled me.  Normal female
pre-teen copulants died from their first period; their reproductive organs
disintegrated and gushed out between their legs -- a Tyrent Corp design
policy of allowing copulants only a four year life span.  But Rachel was
different.  No termination date -- or so I believed.  After two years
together there was no hint of hormonal changes in her exquisite young body.
Her breasts remained budding but undeveloped; her delicious smooth pussy
showed no sign of pubic hairs; and the curve of her waist remained
perfection itself: more than a child, but still prepubescent.



   So I forgot about the danger and absorbed myself in our torture for
pleasure.  I tore her vaginally and anally almost daily, often penetrating
her womb, or her bowels, with violent thrusts with a massive erection that
only a cherryruner like me could have.  And always her body healed with
astonishing speed and completeness, as it was intended to, like any cherry
copulant manufactured by Tyrent Corp.  I hated Tyrent, but in Rachel they
made a perfect cherry.  I had to give them that.



   I gushed hot acidic burning semen in and all over Rachel's body with
enormous pleasure; and in turn, Rachel exploded in orgasm and gratification
as I found ever more inventive ways to torture her.  Pins in and through
her nipples; staples into her labial folds; spikes rammed up her vagina and
into her rectum -- these became part of our regular love-making ritual.  A
favorite was to slice into her clitoris with a razor blade, and then coat
my prick with salt just before impaling her pussy.  The pain of salt
rubbing against her cut clitoris, along with the thrusting, stretching, and
tearing from my violent screwing, brought her heightened gratification; and
amidst the blood, fluids, and secretions from our fucking, we'd come
together, crying out in combined orgasm.



   And once a week I'd fuck her in the guts.  It was Rachel's favorite. 
Carefully I'd slit her belly open from chest to pubic area, exposing her
intestines and organs.  Sometimes I'd feel her innards with my fingers,
pulling at her slippery entrails and pulsating viscera, marvelling at the
feel and texture of her young gooey insides.  A favorite was to turn her on
the side, fuck her up the ass until her sphincter tore and I filled her
bowels with cock, while rummaging around her exposed belly in front with my
hand, pulling out her long intestinal track on to the bed.  I'd flood her
butt with hot viscous semen while gently squeezing her slippery intestines
passing her bodily waste.  Other times I thrust my throbbing prick into her
guts, rubbing against her organs and track until I shot a huge sticky load
into her insides; or enjoy the exquisite sensation of thrusting against her
heaving lungs or beating heart as I ejaculated copiously into her gaping
open chest.



   Afterwards I'd carefully push her entrails back into her body, before
pressing together the gaping cut along her abdomen, confident in the
knowledge that within a couple of days she'd completely heal.  She always
did.



   But it was too good to last, as I discovered one night while tearing
into her vagina, penetrating the tight entrance to her womb.  I'd just
come, having perforated and inseminated her copiously.  We were a mess of
fluids -- blood, burning hot semen, vaginal fluid, and womb secretion. 
Rachel sucked in air.  I thought she was about to climax.  Just then she
clutched her belly, pulled away from me, and fell to her knees.  Then she
cried out, but not in pleasure.  It was not like at other times during our
torture- fucking.  I was startled.  Then a gush spat out from her twat.  I
looked in horror, because I knew what it was: thick dark blood, followed by
bits and pieces of her womb and ovaries.  Another cry and a veritable flood
erupted between her legs.  Her entire reproductive organs now splashed on
to the bed.  She fell backwards, and I caught her.



   It was over in a matter of seconds.  Rachel's first menstruation; the
trigger for a female-child copulant's self-termination, as designed by
Tyrent.  She flinched a time or two while I held her.  I heard her whisper
barely audibly: "Don't discard me." Then she went limp.



   *



   My world fell in.  I carried Rachel's life-less body to a favorite area
of ours nearby, and, with as much ceremony as I was capable of, buried her.
Before covering her with soil, I looked down at her exquisitely beautiful
face one last time.  The memory of our months of perfect torture fucking
filled my mind.  My prick stirred, and soon I was conscious of massive
surging erection.  Standing and looking down at her, I took out my prick
and stroked it.  It seemed incongruously appropriate to come on her one
last time.  I felt sure she would have wanted me to.  A few rigorous pumps
and I shot a stream of hot, viscous semen over her dead face; most of it
splashed around her lovely sweet lips and on her chin.  I leaned down and
kissed her cummy mouth one last time.  Then, broken-hearted, I covered her
up.



   * T W O *



   Los Angeles: two weeks later



   My old apartment at the Philip K.  Dick building was still vacant. 
After a day settling in, I set off for Wad Pliant's office.  I assumed he
was still the head of the Cherryrunner unit, though I hadn't spoken to him
since fleeing the city with Rachel two years earlier.  I had no idea what
kind of reception I'd receive.



   I was back in the city that I hated.  It was hard for me to think
straight, such was my grief.  But Rachel's final words kept haunting me. 
'Don't discard me,' she'd said.  Not 'don't forget me,' or 'always love
me,' or some such, but 'Don't discard me.' It had to mean something, but I
didn't know what.  I was acting on instinct, but something drove me back to
the city; to Pliant, to the Cherryrunner unit; to Tyrent Corp where maybe,
just maybe, I'd find some answers.  Rachel was a cherry copulant, made by
Tyrent Corp for human sex pleasure like other cherries.  She was unique to
me, but she had to have been manufactured from some template or design. 
Maybe I could recreate her, or at least a new Rachel like her.  Our
memories from the past two years were lost.  But if a new Rachel had the
same spirit and beauty of the old Rachel, perhaps I could find happiness
again.



   It was the best plan I could come up with, anyway.



   *



   "Well, well.  Look what the mother-fucking cat dragged in," Pliant said
coldly as I entered his office.  "Sit down Prickhard."



   Pliant treated me with an almost icy contempt, at least at first.  I
told him I wanted to rejoin the Cherryrunner unit again.  He almost sneered
at the request, though I could tell he was feigning it.  Pliant always was
a terrible liar.  Inwardly he'd be delighted to have me back.  I was the
best cherrycop he ever had, and he knew it.  But he enjoyed rubbing my face
in it for now.



   "What happened to that hymen-job cunt you ran off with from Tyrent
Corp?" he asked with a sneer.  I felt like punching him out, but I
suppressed my feelings and played along.



   "She gushed out.  She's gone.  That's all," I said off-handedly.



   "Ooh!  Now that's a cherry guts drop I'd like to have seen," he said
with a smile.  "She certainly was very tasty-looking cherry pussy." I
swallowed hard, suppressing my feelings, but managed a forced sneery smile.
If only Pliant knew how much I was grieving for Rachel.



   I didn't stay long with Pliant.  I let him know that I thought I might
be useful to Tyrent Corp, testing new cherry copulants, that sort of thing.
I wanted in on Tyrent Corp; but I couldn't be too obvious about it.  He
told me he'd think about my request and get back to me.  It was a big ask,
but I could only hope.



   I went back to my apartment and waited.  That night I was as horny as I
was lonely and miserable.  I whacked off huge globs of cum all over the bed
sheets.  I could have gone down to Hump Vally, picked up a kiddy copulant
and screwed her til she tore.  But jacking off to the thought of creaming
Rachel's beautiful prepubescent face was more preferable.  I remembered how
she always looked up at me with her exquisite big dark sensuous knowing
eyes, while my sizzling ejaculate splashed her cheeks, chin and mouth.  It
always amused her afterwards to ooze bubbles between her lips with my
drying congealing semen.  I realized that night that no one could replace
Rachel in my life.  Somehow I had to find a way to reincarnate her.



   *



   Next day, standing on the balcony at my apartment, looking down at the
wet, bustling, grimy streets, and up at the enormous neon signs hovering
above, and sipping Bourbon, Pliant vision-phoned.  "You're in luck Pal," he
said, his manner more friendly.  "Report to Tyrent Corp's main building
tomorrow at 10 am.  Nica Bates, the head of the company, wants to meet
you."



   I arrived at precisely 10 a.m.  Nica Bates, the late Master Bates'
daughter, had taken over running the giant company after her father had
been murdered by the aberrant cherry copulant, Joy.  I'd heard she was an
extraordinary woman, and when we met in her penthouse office at Tyrent
Corp's building, I wasn't disappointed.



   I looked at her.  Thirty-ish, beautiful with medium length
business-style cut blond hair, deep blue eyes, an athletic, and a willowy
patrician-like physique, she looked as perfectly beautiful as some of the
copulants her company produced.  The thought occurred....  But then, who
would know?



   "So you are Prickhard," she said greeting me.  "I know you terminated
the copulant Joy who killed my Father," she said.  "You have my thanks,
albeit belatedly."



   I thanked her.  She looked at me intently.  What happened to the
proto-type Rachel copulant you left with two years ago?" she asked
seemingly off-handedly but I felt with intent.  I went cold.  Perhaps I was
in deep trouble still over taking Rachel.  "She had a period, gushed and
disintegrated," I said, trying to sound cold and indifferent to Rachel's
fate.



   "Hmm..  Yes.  First-generation proto-type.  Not satisfactory.  Too
sentient and individual-mindedl.  We've much improved later versions of
Rachel," she went on.  My heart soared.  If there were new Rachels, maybe I
could find an old-design Rachel.  There was some hope.



   Nica Bates asked me if I wanted to join the company as a kind of
in-house Cherryrunner.  I'd test-fuck new models and welcome aberrant ones.
The thought appalled, but I agreed.  It was the only way to find a new
Rachel.  "Walk with me," she said rising from her chair.  "Let me show you
some of our latest work."







   * T H R E E *



   Nica escorted me around Tyrent's research and development section.  We
passed the incubation area where new copulants - especially children - were
being grown and created.  I could see chambers and pods with growing
embryos and fetuses.  Science-types were attending them; checking
terminals, reading data; talking amongst themselves.  "Here we merely
create new models and advanced proto- types," Nica explained.  "We
mass-produce new copulant lines elsewhere, however."



   We moved on.  The next section took me back.  "The Testing Lab" Nica
called it.  Rooms were littered with child copulants, both male and female;
naked, freshly manufactured, and undergoing testing.  Some were as young as
three or four.  The oldest were early-teenaged.  They ranged all the major
racial groups.  All had beautiful faces and perfect bodies.  Some were
sitting and waiting passively.  Others were being worked on; tied down to
benches; instruments inserted into their openings; wires attached to
nipples, vaginal folds, penises and testicles.  A few were being held high,
stretched wide by machines which parted their arms and legs.  In some cases
the machines were designed to impale and probe them; in others the
science-types were manually inserting nasty-looking probes up their anuses,
vaginas, or around tender-looking pricks and balls.



   The room reverberated to the sound of moaning, crying and whimpering
children.  Some seemed to be enjoying pleasure; others conveyed discomfort.
The room reeked of children and youthful genitals.  I can't say it was
unpleasant.



   "Here we put our cherries through their paces," Nica explained.  "We
never mass-produce a new model unless we're sure they can withstand the
kind of services our human clients expect." At that point I caught sight of
a girl blond copulant with a visual age of about ten.  She was pinned
against the wall, entangled in one of Tyrent's test machines.  Two
science-guys were pressing buttons.  The machine suddenly thrust a huge
prick-shaped plastic object up her vagina.  A spurt of blood signalled the
destruction of her hymen.  The young girl cried out seemingly in pleasure.
Blood trickled down her thighs.



   Nica noticed that I was watching the girl.  "This test confirms that the
reverse-wiring is working in her brain," Nica explained, "to make sure the
sensations of torture are experienced by her as extreme pleasure." She
seemed to forget that as a cherryrunner I understood fully the purpose and
function of cherry copulants.  I didn't reply, but kept watching the
experiment.



   Then the machine vibrated the artificial dick at a fantastic rate up the
girl's vagina.  At first she cried out in ecstacy, but only at first.  As
the lining between her pussy and ass holes tore, and the dick penetrated
her belly more deeply, tortuous pain filled her face.  The science-guys
looked at each other, disappointed.  One pushed a button, shaking his head
to show failure.  The artificial dick inside her suddenly expanded both in
width and in length.  With astonishing speed it lunged into and pulled out
her entrails which gushed out of her groin and splashed on to the floor. 
Immediately she was still.  Having been terminated as a failed prototype,
her disemboweled body was lifted away for element recycling.



   "She's very cute looking," Nica Bates called out to the scientists. 
"Keep working on her design, boys," she added.  "Yes Ma'am," they replied
in unison.  One added, "Just needs some more work on the reverse-polarity
pleasure-pain receptors in the brain." Nica grunted unconsciously, and we
move on.



   We left the area full of young boy and girl copulants being filled and
stretched and torn and wired and disemboweled.  "I think you'll find this
next area very interesting," Nica told me as we entered another section. 
"We are finding a strong customer demand for cherries with specific design
parameters," she said.  "This is where we are developing them."



   As I walked in, I saw immediately what she meant.  More science- types
working on kiddy copulants, but not like the others.  I saw little girls
with big adult-like breasts, or with bushy pubic hair; young boys with huge
testicles and penises dangling between their legs; and various
hermaphrodite-looking girl-boys (or was it boy girls?) being worked on and
explored.  Each one was on a table, probes, instruments and what have you,
inserted into orifices.  Little moans and whimpers echoed around the room
as the adults worked on their tender openings and genitals.



   I'd like a demonstration," Nica said, addressing the head science type.
He nodded, but looked uncomfortable.  "Still not perfected yet," he said
nervously.  He chose a young girl - about eight in appearance - with large
developed breasts, and a boy, about the same age looking, with huge
swinging testicles and a long dangling prick.  The girl was placed on her
back.  The boy was ordered to fuck her missionary style.  After the girl
licked his prick a time or two to harden it, he rammed it between he legs.
She seemed to tear immediately.  Blood and lubricant flooded out of her
while he humped her.  The girl's tits flopped and swung on her overwise
undeveloped child-like body.  She was wincing and crying; I couldn't tell
if in pleasure or in pain.  The boy was grunting, pounding his ridiculously
over-sized dick (for his age, appearance, and height) into the girl's messy
crack.  I watched in amazement.  "You'd be surprised how much demand there
is for sexually over-developed kiddy copulants," she muttered to me while
scrutinizing the screwing kids.  "We expect them to be big sellers."



   The boy's fucking went on and on.  He couldn't ejaculate, though by now
the child-girl was hemorrhaging copiously out of her twat hole.  Finally
the girl bucked, shuddered, and fell silent.  The ordeal had terminated
her. Nica looked extremely pissed off.  Ignoring the science guy, she
pulled the boy off, and began stroking his prick, particularly around his
glans.  Her stimulation seemed to work; a minute later he exploded in
climax, volumes of semen spurting out all over the face of the terminated
girl on the floor below.  But even before his last spurt, Nica used a knife
from a table nearby to cut his balls off.  The boy dropped like a dead
weight onto the girl on the floor, terminated.  Nica threw the boy's nuts
at the scientist.  "If the girls' cunts tear, and the boys' can't shoot a
load of cum into them, nobody's going to buy them!' she barked at him.  He
gulped and flushed.  "Just teething problems, I assure you,' he replied. 
She glared at him.



   I felt myself shudder.  All male synthetics - even cherryrunners - are
easily and instantly terminated by castration.  Nica Bates was indeed
formidable and dangerous.  A hands-on manager in every sense, I morbidly
joked to myself.  But I'd have to be careful, lest she turned on me and cut
my balls off.



   *



   I hoped we were done and that the tour was over.  But Nica had one last
area of kiddy copulant research and development to show me.  We proceeded
to another room.



   "I think you'll like this," she said with a smile.



   Her anger seemed to have passed.  As we entered I couldn't help but
flinch.  Only three science-types worked in this area.  And immediately I
saw what they were working on: three female cherry copulants - about nine
in appearance - one blond, one red-headed child, and an asian girl who
looked Japanese.  They were beautiful looking, but they also had something
else in common: they were bulging and heavily pregnant.  I looked at them,
strapped to tables, the bellies flopping and wobbling.  Instruments stuck
out of their small vaginal slits; electrodes were attached to their
bellies; and clamps were affixed to their nipples, causing them to pulsate.
The little pregnant cherry girls were flinching and bucking and kicking as
the devices surged through their distended bodies.



   "A new line -- pregnant children," Nica said with pride.  "Manufactured
to customers' desires." She explained that they bought as virgins, become
impregnated by their clients, swell and provided pleasure for nine months
until they give birth, whereupon they terminate as both their fetuses and
their insides gush out.  "Unlike normal cherry copulants, who last four
years, pregnant cherries last just nine months," she explained, "which
makes them an expensive pleasure but, we hope, a unique one as their human
owners enjoy screwing them through their swelling pregnancy."



   "Novel," I replied dryly and with sarcasm.  My tone wasn't lost on Nica.



   "Yes," she went on, "it's tricky design work.  They must become pregnant
easily, withstand months of violation without aborting while satisfying
their owners, and then drop and gush with some predictability." A
self-satisfied smile came to her mouth.  "But we're pleased so far: they
lactate, and even their fetuses kick in their bellies."



   "Can their babies survive after birth?" I asked.



   "Of course not!" Nica replied incredulously.  "Can't have copulants
reproducing copulants.  Bad idea for us humans, not to mention bad for our
business." Of course she was right, I realized.  Tyrent's global monopoly
and appalling wealth depended on disposable copulants with short life
spans. Copulants reproducing themselves certainly didn't figure into that.



   Nica spent several minutes inspecting the bloated cherry girls, feeling
pregnant bellies, pinching nipples, examining their openings.  She talked
to the science-types, ignoring me.  I was pleased to have a few moments to
think.  Nica's tour was interesting, but of little help to me in my quest.
I was no closer to working out how to re-construct a new Rachel at Tyrent
Corp; for that matter, I still didn't know why Nica had hired me as an
in-house cherryrunner.



   Suddenly Nica turned to me and gestured to come closer.  I complied and
stood next to her near the blond pregnant cherry on the table.  I looked at
the child: Hair of pure blond, bright magnificent blue eyes, perfect fair
skin, beautiful pale-pink toning in her lips, nipples and vaginal folds. 
Nica placed her hand on the child's bulging pregnant belly, and then
invited me to do the same.  We both felt a fetal kick from the womb below.
Nica smiled.  I wondered how such a slender child's body could hold a baby
for so many months while being raped and tortured daily.



   "What are you meant for?" Nica then asked the blond cherry.  "To give
pleasure to my master while my baby grows," she answered in a lovely
slightly nervous vulnerable voice, no doubt specifically designed by Tyrent
to invoke lust in an owner.



   I tried to remained detached, but a surge of lust went through me.  I am
designed to rape and violate young girls, after all.  A massive erection
swelled in my groin -- a stage two boner, almost beyond my capacity to
control.  I tried to make it go away, but the smell of the pregnant cherry
got to me.  I needed to unleash fluids.  Nica looked at me.  She knew what
was happening to me.  Damn you!  I thought.  You're doing it on purpose.



   Nica pulled all probes and instruments from the blond child's body, and
spun her around so that she faced me.  I looked down at the child, on her
back, her legs spread, and her cunt gaping below a huge belly.  My prick
throbbed even more urgently.  Nica ordered the science-types to leave,
which they did.



   I looked at Nica.  "Nica, why did you employ me?  What is it you want me
to do here at Tyrent Corp?" I asked.  She smiled wryly.



   "You're here to test out our new cherries," she said staring at me. 
"Start with this cunt here on the table." I looked at her.  "But she's
meant for human owners; if I fuck her I'll tear her open," I told her.



   "An extreme test should be most revealing," Nica replied coldly.



   I looked down at the pregnant cherry girl.  Realizing I had no choice, I
dropped my pants, took hold of my massive aching prick, and prepared to
mount her.



   * F O U R *



   I guess I arrived back at my apartment at around mid afternoon.  My
first day at Tyrent had been valuable, but also challenging.  I'd enjoyed
screwing the pregnant blond cherry - I'm forced to admit - but felt
conflicted about it.  What made it worse was that Nica instructed me
throughout the entire violation.  It wasn't a routine 'welcoming' either;
she wasn't a recalcitrant kiddy copulant; just a new model Nica wanted me
to screw, largely, I suspected, for her own pleasure and amusement.  I
hated being used by her.



   It was an extremely messy fuck.  My penetration immediately tore the
child open between the cunt and and asshole.  As her belly wobbled wildly,
Nica ordered me to impale the girl as deeply as possible.  At first the
kiddy blond moaned in pleasure, but soon that changed and she winced and
moaned as I screwed her wildly.  The reverse-polarity pleasure centers in
her brain clearly were only partially developed.  Soon she struggled and
kicked.  I felt sorry for her, but I also had an urgent need to ejaculate.
I tried to empty my load as quickly as possible.



   Toward the end, Nica barked at me to achieve penetration of the girl's
womb and to shoot my load over the fetus inside.  The blond cherry's
cervical canal ruptured completely.  A gush of hot womb fluids streamed out
of her, into my groin and down my legs.  The harder I thrust, the more
powerful the squirt of gunk came out of her to splash me.



   I felt my prick enter her womb and I then rub against the baby as I
continued to hump towards orgasm and relief.  What can I say?  It felt
good; a unique sensation.  Grunting, I told Nica this and she looked
pleased.



   Suddenly the blond girl moaned out: "Don't hurt my baby.  Please don't
hurt my little baby.  I want to be a mommy." I stopped briefly, taken
aback. Nica laughed.  "Don't worry," she said, "we've programmed them to
talk like this during the termination stage.  Our customers should enjoy
it." Then she added, "Keep going until she expels it.  It'll be useful data
for us."



   I had no choice.  The blond cherry was done for anyway.  I concentrated
on blowing my wad inside her.  A few minutes later and I exploded, my semen
squirting copiously inside the girl's ruptured uterus.  It was then she
cried out again not to hurt her baby.  I was too busy climaxing and
ejaculating to be affected any more.  By the time I withdrew from the
perforated pregnant child, a river of blood, womb and fetal fluids poured
out of her pussy.  I turned away just as a violent gush from her insides -
baby and all - hit the floor.



   "Good, good," Nica said, looking down at the mess on the floor below. 
"Some more work to do on this model, but coming along nicely." I guess I
had pleased her.



   She allowed me to leave shortly afterwards.



   *



   In my apartment that night, I seriously considered leaving the city and
returning to the mountains.  Yes, I would have failed in my search for a
new Rachel, but the thought of being Nica Bates' personal violator held
little appeal.  I decided to give it one week.  If I failed to make any
progress, I would leave.



   The next day proved uneventful.  Most of the day I spent mooching around
Tyrent Corp, not doing anything useful.  I wasn't allowed anywhere near any
of the areas where cherry copulants were designed or produced.  My
instincts told me this was intentional.



   I saw Nica only briefly.  Again I asked her exactly what my job was at
Tyrent, and again she was evasive.  "When we need you for cherry-welcoming
purposes, we'll tell you," she said with a forced smile before leaving
abruptly.  In the afternoon I received a message from Nica to attend an
address where a group of customers were having a kiddies party with a group
of five year old cherry girls -- baby cherries they're known as.  Some of
the baby cherries were new models, Nica informed me; should any were to
prove uncooperative I was to return them to Tyrent and violate them.



   I attended the party briefly.  The ten guys were screwing the five baby
cherries gleefully and passing them around.  All their little orifices were
torn and bloodied, and the room reverberated to the sound of whimpering and
moaning little girls, but there didn't seem to be any problems.  When they
got to the "dildo contest" -- the part when each little girl in turn is
tied to the wall, her little legs spread apart, and dildos of increasing
size and thickness rammed into her small twat and poop holes until she
tears open -- I decided to leave the guys to it.  I had no interest in
seeing which baby cherry would be the winner -- the one who took the
biggest dido before being torn apart between the legs.  If she survived, I
hope they gave her a nice present.



   After that I went home.  I had a sneaking suspicion that Nica had sent
me to the baby cherry party just to give me something to do.  The lady was
up to something, I felt sure of that.  But just what I had no idea.  I felt
broody and resentful at being a pawn in some game of Nica's.  But there was
nothing I could do but wait.



   As it turned out, I didn't have to wait too long.



   * F I V E *



   It was almost mid-evening that night when I received a visionphone call
from Nica requesting that I go to her private suite on top of the
mega-scraper Tyrent Corp building.  I wasn't happy about it.  Being
summoned by Nica, particularly late at night, kind of pissed me off.  Even
as an cherryrunner - artificially manufactured to violate aberrant cherry
copulants - I'd never been anyone's servant.  But then I reminded myself
what my personal mission was: to find a way to replicate or reproduce my
beloved cherry-love, Rachel.  If I could convince Nica that I was worthy of
her trust, maybe I'd gain some access to Tyrent's cherry manufacturing
center and hopefully find Rachel's design data.  It was my best and only
hope.



   I arrived at Nica's suite about thirty minutes later.  She met me
personally.  The place was littered with beautiful cherry copulants, of
both sexes and ages ranging from baby cherries to late teens.  I guessed
they were all for Nica's personal pleasure.  Some were naked, while others
wore sexy slinky night attire.  They lounged around as we passed them by,
obviously waiting for Nica to summon them if they were needed.



   "What do you think of my playmates?" she asked cheekily.



   "Very nice," I replied un-effusively.  I think she was hoping I'd say
something more complimentary, but I wasn't in the mood to suck up to her.
We passed her playmates by and proceeded to what she called her "private
room".



   As we entered, I noticed that the room was littered with whips and
instruments of torture, as well as devices for restraining and securing
people to benches or walls.  There was also a small enclosed fire in one
corner.  It didn't give off much heat, but I noticed a metal iron resting
in the flames.  I felt uneasy, but tried not to show it.  Then I turned and
asked, "What can I do for you at this hour Nica?"



   She laughed and then clapped her hands.  "I have something interesting
for you to see," she said.  The door opened and I turned to look.  I froze,
and even felt momentarily dizzy.  I had good reason.  A twelve-year
old-looking cherry copulant walked in.



   It was Rachel



   *



   It took me a few seconds to realize that it wasn't my Rachel who'd
arrived.  It was another Rachel, made from the same design parameters, and
identical in every way to my beloved cherry pre- teenager.  She came in
and, ignoring me, went to sit next to Nica.



   Nica laughed.  "I see you're surprised," she said.  "This is Rina, an
exact duplicate of the Rachel you had...., Well of course we still have the
original design data from the one you, er, left with, but of course we've
improved on her since then." I wondered how.  To me, my Rachel had been
perfect -- apart from a short life span, followed by her insides gushing
out of her beautiful twat.



   Before I could speak, Nica stripped Rina naked.  I sighed, almost sadly.
That exquisitely beautiful body; lean, fine-featured; big dark expressive
eyes; small, budding, dark, delicious little nipples; shiny dark lovely
long hair.  And then there was her perfect pussy slit; smooth, lovely,
youthful, elegant; perfect.



   A mixture of lust and sadness engulfed me.  I was thinking of my Rachel,
now gone, but also had a throbbing hard-on for Nica's Rina.  It became
worse when Nica started to caress her pre-teenaged cherry copulant before
my eyes.  I watched as her fingers slightly stroked the child's firm flat
abdomen, then her dark budding erect little nipples.  Soon she was stroking
the length of Rina's vaginal crack, before feeling behind to fondle the
entrance of her anus.



   "What do you like to do Rina?" Nica asked her.



   "I like to suck your titties, and your pussy slit, and lick you up the
bottom, Mistress, to give you pleasure," she replied in a lovely, low, sexy
child-adult voice, very similar to Rachel's, but not quite as characterful,
I thought.



   "Delicious, isn't she?" Nica said turning to me.  "I enjoy many, but
this design is my favorite.  Rina is my baby." I looked at her but said
nothing.  A moment later I was startled when Nica slipped her left breast
out and brought Rina's's mouth down to her nipple.  The cherry took Nica's
long, engorged, pale-pink nipple into her mouth and sucked contentedly.  A
look of pure pleasure engulfed Nica's face.  "Hmm..." she said several
times.  Then she said, "I have no time for infants, but I love to have Rina
nurse at my breasts.  It makes me feel so...  motherly...  Yes, and so
relaxing too," she added, gently stroking her prized cherry's hair as the
girl sucked like a baby on her.



   I was surprised to see this aspect of Nica's personality.  Surprised,
and intrigued, too.  What was Nica up to?  Why had I been summoned?  Why
had she shown me Rina?  Was she taunting me about Rachel, who had looked
like Rina's twin?  What was all this leading up to?  These questions, and
more, filled my mind.  But I tried to remain focused.  At least I knew for
sure now that other copies of Rachel had been manufactured by Tyrent.  If I
could find a away to get my own new Rachel, I would have achieved what I
wanted.  She wouldn't have my Rachel's unique personality - a combination
of sweet youthful innocence, maturity, complete devotion, and an
inexhaustible appetite for down and dirty sex and torture - but at least I
would have "a" Rachel, and maybe overtime we would develop a special bond
too.



   I was mulling this over when Nica and her Rina really started to get it
on.  I couldn't believe it when Nica allowed the beautiful child to slip
her tongue down and lick around Nica's panties.  I could see Rina's tongue
dart up into Nica's cunt, as far as she could.  The girl's slurping on her
mistress's genitals became louder and more frenetic.  She was working away
at Nica's clit, and Nica was building up to orgasm.  A moment later she
erupted, crying out in climax, giving in to the ecstacy, and enjoying every
bit of it, without any inhibitions at my presence.



   Nica caught her breath and then slowly crossed her legs.  She must have
been very soggy down there; the room now had a pervasive odor of wet,
horny, pussy.  I felt ill-at-ease now, and tried to think of a way to
excuse myself and leave.



   "Nica, if there's nothing more tonight, then I'll..."



   "I thought perhaps you might be interested in acquiring a new cherry,
like Rina here," she cut in.



   Her comment took me by surprise.  "Yes.  I might," I managed to say. 
"She is like my ...er, the Rachel cherry I had before." I was trying to
sound cold-hearted and detached, with limited success, I feared.



   "Well, I may give you one," she went on with a smug grin on her face. 
"But first, let me show you how REALLY enjoyable a Rina cherry can be."



   Nica was playing with me.  I knew it, and she knew I did.  But I had no
choice other to let her play out her game.



   * S I X *



   I watched as Nica tied Rina's hands to a metal bar above her head. 
Passive and compliant, Nica's cherry looked somewhat uncomfortable
nonetheless, as her mistress viewed her up and down.  Then Nica picked up a
leather whip from a table nearby.  She cracked it in the air a time or two,
for my sake, I think, just to show it was the real thing.



   "Now it's my turn to give you pleasure, Rina," Nica told her cherry. 
"Yes, my mistress," the girl replied softly.  I looked at Rina's lovely
young lean undeveloped body; the gentle curve of her waist in very early
puberty; her lovely, smooth, flawless skin; pouting dark nipples; and the
fine, smooth, slit in her groin which looked even more alluring when,
seemingly out of modesty, she pressed her thighs together to conceal it. 
With her arms suspended over her head she looked so beautiful, and so
vulnerable.



   The first crack of the whip hit across Rina's lovely firm young belly.
Several times she walloped the girl's abdomen.  Rina cried out, seemingly
in pleasure.  Then Nica took to the girl's chest, the tip of the whip
flicking and tearing her nipples, making them bleed.  Rina's cries grew
louder.  Several more strikes to the cherry's little budding breasts left
long bruise marks and welts, more rips to her delicate nipple tissue, and
more bleeding.



   Suddenly Nica dropped the whip and kneeled before her beaten cherry
slave.  She started to kiss and lick Rina's whipped body, running her
tongue along the welts and torn tissue, caressing her ripped nipples and
lashed belly.  "Oh my lovely little cherry baby," Nica whispered softly. 
"Mommy will kiss it better ...  Mommy will kiss it all better..."



   Nica was getting off.  I felt uneasy watching this mixture of brutality
and tenderness.  Nica seemed indifferent to my presence; she was totally
engrossed in her pleasure.  The girl was panting and wincing.  "Yes my
mistress, my mommy ....  I'm stinging ...  I'm stinging all over..."



   Now Nica's demeanor changed again.  She picked up the whip again and
stood behind her captive cherry slave.  I heard the whip slap hard against
Rina's small buttocks.  Several times she walloped her butt.  Then another
strike made the girl not just cry out in pleasure, but buck violently as
well.  Nica had struck her full-on up the anus.  She did it again, and
again.  I couldn't see, but the whip had to have torn her rectum open. 
From the front, I could see trickles of blood running down Rina's thighs.



   "Mommy, my poop poop hole hurts, it hurts....' the cherry cried out
mournfully.  A further strike with the whip fully up her asshole cut her
off with a cry.



   Now Nica came around again to face Rina, and stood next to me.  Then she
said, "Here's a lesson for you Prickhard: torture gives copulants extreme
pleasure, because of the reverse-receptors in the genetic design of their
brains.  But very extreme torture negates the effect, and they feel every
painful part of it." Then she added, "I don't know about you, but THAT
gives me the most satisfaction." With that, Nica flicked the whip directly
and with full force into Rina's vagina, cracking across the length of it,
ripping and tearing her outer labial folds, leaving them torn and dangling
from her groin.  Rina screamed.  The threshold from torture-pleasure to
torture-pain had been crossed.  I could only watch as Nica whipped the
girl's pussy again and again, until it was a ripped bloody mess.  Torn
pieces of her vaginal labia fell from her groin to the floor.  Nica whipped
her in the pussy a few more times, seemingly just for good measure.  A
final well-aimed flick at her crack, and a bloody, lumpy bit flew off,
nearing hitting me.  I think it was her clitoris -- or what was left of it.



   *



   Again I felt conflicted about the situation.  On one hand, I hated Nica
for what she was doing, especially to a beautiful cherry she said she cared
about.  Maybe it was because it was a Rachel-cherry - not my Rachel, but
one that looked identical to her - that I didn't like.  And Nica wasn't
just torturing her to produce heightened pleasure in the girl; she was
going beyond that to produce agony, just to enjoy herself.



   On the other hand, I had a massive erection and an overwhelming desire
for relief.  I guess I'm just the product of my conditioning and genetic
design.



   I watched as Nica whipped the girl's nipples, vagina and anus a few more
times.  The lashed cherry was obviously in torment, but not once did she
cry out to her mistress to stop.  I wondered about that.



   Then Nica stopped, and looked at me.  "Fuck her, Prickhard.  Fuck her in
the pussy.  Fuck her standing up.  Fuck her until you flood her with cum."



   Nica stared at me.  I felt I had no choice.  Stepping toward the whipped
Rina, still standing with her hands tied high above her head, I un-zipped
my pants and pulled out my massively engorged prick.  I positioned myself
between her legs, and thrust into the bloody, torn, lacerated, mutilated
mess that remained of Rina's vagina.  After rubbing up into the mush a time
or two, I found the entrance, and filled her fully with a powerful upward
thrust.



   As hard as I fucked the girl, Nica wanted more.  She wasn't happy until
I tore through Rina's cervical canal to enter her womb.  "Close your eyes
and keeping screwing my baby," Nica commanded.



   I did what I was told.  With my eyes closed tightly, I humped repeatedly
into the lacerated cherry.  But, behind the girl, Nica was up to something.
I realized what a few moments later.  Rina cried out mournfully and then
bucked.  Nica was fisting her up the ass.  As I pussy-fucked the girl, I
could feel Nica's fingers through the lining between Rina's cunt and
asshole.  Then, the lining disintegrated completely, and Nica's fingers
were stroking my prick inside the girl.



   "Don't open your eyes!  Shoot your load!  Shoot your load!" Nica barked
at me.  I had no choice.  I needed to come now, had to come now, whatever I
thought about what Nica was doing.  I grunted and groaned and worked at
getting myself off.  The cherry's cunt and poop holes now formed one messy
orifice between her legs.  There wasn't much friction, so I thrust deeper
inside her, the stimulation from penetrating her small womb finally getting
me off.



   I could feel my climax building.  But Nica's hand was still inside the
girl.  I sensed pulling and yanking, and felt the girl flinch and shiver. A
moment later I was lost in an eruption of orgasm, and felt a flood of hot
burning ejaculate explode from my body into the prepubescent cherry's
belly. I gave into it completely, crying out in blessed relief.  Countless
spurts left my body.  Finally, after a last, long, powerful squirt of
semen, I opened my eyes and pulled back.  Panting, I looked at Rina.  Her
eyes were open, and she was still.  I guessed that I'd just inseminated a
life-less terminated cherry copulant.  When I looked at Nica, I immediately
saw why: She'd partly pulled Rina's intestines out through her rectum.  She
was playing with them as they protruded out of the girl's butt-hole;
rubbing her clitoris against the hot intestinal track for stimulation.  She
had her own climax a few seconds later, just as the girl's guts plopped out
on to the floor.



   * S E V E N *



   Nica's strength in disembowelling her Rina cherry through the rectum
with her hand surprised me, and only added to my doubts about her.  But I
said nothing.



   "Why did you terminate such a valued cherry?" I asked Nica.  "I thought
you...."



   Nica laughed, cutting me off.  "I'll show you," she said, clapping her
hands loudly.  "I'm about to reveal to you information known by very few,"
she added.



   I was wondering what she meant, when the door opened, and in walked yet
another cherry.  She was identical to Rina, and therefore to my Rachel as
well.  How many "Rachels" did Nica have!?  I thought with astonishment. 
The girl walked slowly, her face devoid of all expression and personality.
She walked over and stood next to Nica.



   "Watch," Nica said to me smugly.



   I watched Nica closely.  She stepped over to the flagellated, terminated
Rina - still tied overhead by her hands, with her entrails hanging out of
her anus - and took hold of her head.  Carefully she peeled away a small
area of scalp at the back to reveal an imbedded metal object.  Then she
withdrew and held it for me to see.  It was an implant of some kind; a
small micro-computer device, I guessed, with two thin spikes which pierced
directly into the brain.



   "What is that?  What does it do?" I asked.



   Nica ignored my questions, smiled, and walked over to the cherry who'd
just walked in.  Nica approached the child, held her head, and gently
inserted the implant into her brain.  (I guessed that openings for the
implant were already there.) When fully inserted, and covered with scalp
skin, the implant was undetectable to the eye.



   Immediately the previously passive, expressionless cherry jolted and
looked around.  "Mistress!" she exclaimed upon seeing Nica, and then threw
her arms around her.  While clutching Nica, this new Rina looked over at
the whipped, disemboweled corpse hanging a few feet away and smiled.  "Did
my torture and agony give you pleasure, my mistress?" she asked.  Nica drew
her to her breast and smiled.  "Of course, as always," she replied.  Then
Nica exposed her nipple to the cherry, who, just like earlier, sucked on
her like an infant.  Again, like before, a motherly look came over Nica's
face.



   While holding the girl at her breast, Nica turned to me.  "So now you
know, Prickhard.  Copulants are made from templates, based on age, race,
sex, appearance, and so on.  Their brains attend to basic physical
functions, just as in humans.  But a copulant's personality is provided
from the micro-implant we insert in the brain.  It stores memories,
modifies behavior from experience, and, as you've just seen, can be
transferred to another copulant body after termination."



   I was, of course, incredulous.  "Why isn't this generally known?" I
asked.



   "We don't allow it to be," she replied.  "We don't want owners to become
too attached to their copulants.  Bad for them; bad for copulants; and most
of all, bad for our business.  We want customers to buy completely new
models every few years, including personality implants.  Hence the
four-year life-span, of course."



   "Of course," I repeated, with a touch of sarcasm.  The look on Nica's
mouth showed disapproval.  "But you yourself just transferred..." I started
to say.



   "Some of us at high-level are allowed the luxury of copulant personality
transfer," she cut in, "for ...  special cherries."



   "Yes, just as with anti-aging medication which allows a few to live a
hundred and fifty years or more," I piped in, this time even more
sarcastically.  This comment impressed her even less, I could see.



   Suddenly a jolt went through me.  If what Nica told me was true, my
Rachel - now buried several hours away in the mountains - must have had a
personality implant in her brain as well.  And I'd buried her with it!  I
realized.  Had I known....  I thought.  But how was I to know?  Anger,
fear, hope and dread all filled my mind.  This new information changed
things dramatically, and, overall, for the better.  There WERE new
Rachel-like cherries manufactured, I now knew.  And if my Rachel's brain
implant still functioned .....  It was just a matter of bringing the two
together to complete Rachel's reincarnation.



   Now I really wanted to leave Nica's suite.  My mind was reeling.  I
needed to think about what to do.  Trying to appear calm and cool, I
informed Nica that I thought it was time I got going.



   "As you wish," she replied, apparently indifferently, still nursing and
soothing her favorite cherry copulant, Rina.



   "Thank you for a most interesting evening," I said turning to leave. 
Then it hit me: Nica hadn't told me why she'd invited me over in the first
place.  When I asked her about it she merely replied, "Oh, a task thing for
tomorrow.  It'll keep."



   Just as I reached the door, I now realized that I lacked a vital piece
of information about bringing Rachel back.  Turning slowly to face Nica
again, I asked, as matter-of-factly as was possible under the
circumstances, 'Oh, out of interest, just how long does a copulant's
personality implant function after termination?"



   Nica looked at me with great intensity.  I will never forget it.  Then,
with an enigmatic smile, she replied, "About a month.  Copulant personality
transfer must occur with thirty days or so, or else the implant
self-destructs."



   On the way back to my apartment I hurriedly counted the days in my mind.
It had been just over three weeks since I'd buried my Rachel in the ground.
Less than thirty days, certainly, but time was running out.



   * E I G H T *



   It was very late by the time I got back to my apartment.  I was tired,
but I still couldn't sleep.  I felt so close, and yet so far, from my
objective.  It was simply a matter now of finding a replacement Rachel-like
cherry copulant template, taking her to where I'd buried my Rachel,
inserting Rachel's implant into her brain, and that would be that.  Rachel
would have returned to me.



   But there were two major problems: first, finding a new Rachel template
wouldn't be easy.  I'd have to steal one from Nica's suite (difficult --
the place had immaculate security), or find one somewhere in Tyrent's
manufacturing plant.  Secondly, I'd have to make sure my new Rachel
template didn't have a termination date.  The thought of losing her on the
day of her menstruation - watching her uterus, ovaries, and the rest of her
guts gush out of her pussy - was too much.  I couldn't face this ordeal
again.  True, Nica had vaguely offered me a new Rachel-type cherry.  But
almost certainly she would have a four-year life span.  That wasn't enough
life.



   No wonder I couldn't sleep.  The first problem was difficult enough. 
The second seemed impossible.  Again I contemplated giving up the quest,
and returning to the mountains.  But I'd come so far.  I felt I had no
choice but to continue.



   *



   The next day was quiet.  I mooched around Tyrent Corp with nothing
really important to do.  Nica left a message saying I should again spend
time in their research and development section watching new copulants being
tested.  So I sat around while boys and girls of all ages and types were
operated on and tortured by Tyrent science-types.  The pregnant cherry
experiments seemed to be in difficulties.  I watched as several nine-year
old looking pregnant cherries were placed in fuck machines and put through
their paces.  The machines vibrated dildos up their little pussies and
anuses at a fantastic rate; and in every case the young girls aborted
violently all over the floor.  The science-types weren't pleased with the
data.  "How can we design them to hold their babies during the nine months
they'll be routinely violated by their owners, but drop their guts and womb
on cue at the end," I heard one white- coat complain.  "Nica is asking too
much," another grumbled.  I said nothing, but kept my eyes open, and my
ears to the ground.  Any information they might slip about acquiring a
Rachel copulant template would be valuable.



   But they said nothing about any Rachels, or Rinas for that matter. 
Feeling despondent, I was pleased when, late in the afternoon, I received a
message that Nica wanted to see me in her private apartment.



   *



   When I arrived at Nica's place a short while later, she met me
personally, just like before.  Uncharacteristically for her, she was
beaming.  "Prickhard," she said warmly, "I'm so pleased you're here.  I
have something exciting to show you." Despite her friendliness, I felt on
edge.  Nica was dangerous.  I wondered what she was up to now.



   She took me to a luxurious room, one I hadn't seen on my previous visit.
We chatted for a while, mainly about my observations of Tyrent's cherry
development section.  It seemed to me she was merely passing time.  Finally
the door opened and I turned around to see who it was.



   I blinked.  At first I thought it was Rina -- Nica's personal cherry,
and duplicate of my own cherished Rachel.  But it wasn't.  The girl who
walked in looked slightly older and more developed, and just so beautiful.
She entered naked - at Nica's request, I'm sure - and so I marvelled at her
small swelling breasts, lovely curving waist, fine, just barely visible
pubic hairs around her clitoral hood, and other elegant early-pubescent
features.  I believe I must have sighed audibly.  Nica heard me and
snickered just a little.



   "Lovely isn't she?" she said.



   "Uh huh," I said truthfully.  This cherry had Rachel's face - just
slightly older, maybe eighteen months or so - and a perfect early- teenaged
body developing in early puberty.



   "This is a new cherry proto-type," Nica explained.  "Based on Rina - or
the Rachel model, if you like - but just that little bit older.  See how
her lovely body swells and pouts as those hormones kick in," she added,
moving to lightly caress the girl's titties and rounding waist.  The lovely
girl's face was expressionless.  I couldn't tell if she had a personality
implant fitted in her brain or not.



   "I've named her Raela," Nica explained.  "We're gearing up for the
production of her model now.  We expect this merchandise to be very popular
amongst owners who want more than a child, less than a woman."



   A surge of arousal ran through me.  I could feel massive swelling in my
groin.  Raela was my Rachel, with just a touch more physical development. I
found this little extra much to my taste.



   "What's the life-span of this ...  model," I asked, trying to sound
detached.  Nica smiled, coldly, I thought.  "Oh, the commercial model will
terminate with the on-set of menstruation after four years," she replied.
"But a nice design feature is that she'll maintain this early-puberty
appearance during that period until her insides and sexual organs implode
and gush out of her."



   "So, early-teenaged, early-pubescent, four-year life-span, delayed full
menstruation, followed by a guts-drop termination," I said.



   Nica nodded.  "Like her?" she asked a moment later while fingering the
lovely cherry's vaginal slit.  I, of course, nodded.  "Good," she replied,
"because I'm giving her to you."



   Nica explained that three Raela proto-type cherries had been made so
far. One was being experimented on; another was for her pleasure, and this
one she was giving to me.  "It's my way of thanking you for avenging my
father's murder," she explained.



   Nica's seeming generosity completely took me by surprise.  Caught off
guard, I accepted her 'gift' graciously, but I was also deeply suspicious
at her motives.  Why would someone as high and mighty as Nica Bates, head
of the world's most powerful corporation, be so generous to a lowly
ex-cherryrunner?  Nevertheless, I felt I had no choice but to accept.



   Nica then turned to Raela, and instructed her that I was her new owner.
The cherry beauty looked at me, and for the first time I saw some
expression in her face.  She stepped toward me.  "I wish only to give you
pleasure, my master.  Please do with me whatever you wish." I felt my prick
harden, because she looked at me with Rachel's eyes and spoke with Rachel's
voice.  I only wished it was Rachel talking.



   *



   I left Nica's suite a short time later, and was pleased to do so.  Raela
accompanied me back to my apartment.  She spoke very little, but her eyes
rarely left me.  She sat on my bed, looking up at me.



   "Can I give you pleasure, my master?" she asked seductively.  "Would you
like me to lick your penis?  If I sucked on you until you emptied your
fluids into my mouth, would you be happy?  Or you can fill me inside
anywhere you want, I don't mind.  Please, my master, make my pain your
pleasure."



   I had to admit, Raela was a piece of work; a great cherry pussy.  But
she wasn't Rachel; she didn't have her uniqueness, her spirit.  That
wonderful combination of sweetness, depravity, and maturity that I adored
in my Rachel, had been expunged from her model-line, thanks to Tyrent's
"tweeking".  I guess Rachel had been too sentient for Tyrent's liking. 
This cherry, Raela, mouthed dirty to turn her owner on, and would take any
torture to her body, but it was just her programming.  And anyway, she
wouldn't last: in four years her guts, womb and ovaries would drop out of
her cunt and that'd be that; so I was no closer to finding a new Rachel
with longevity.



   I tried to think about my situation and options.  I tried to focus, but
as Raela stripped and began to push her tongue down my pants to lick and
suck my cock, I gave in to an overwhelming desire for relief.  The build-up
of semen inside a cherryrunner's balls can cause extreme discomfort if not
spurted out regularly.  We're designed that way.  Raela's soft mouth around
the glans of my cock was superb.  She just managed to receive me in to her
mouth, before I exploded down her throat.  There was so much cum, she
coughed and spluttered, and damn-near choked on it.  She swallowed most of
it, though.  After I stopped grimacing in climax, I looked down to see
burning hot sizzling semen around her mouth, and on her chin.  She wiped
the residue away with her pretty, elegant, fingers, and then licked them.
This cherry was definitely built to please.



   Having had a first taste of her, I decided to throw all caution to the
wind and fuck her until her pussy and asshole were torn and bleeding. 
Then, in my arousal, I decided to guts-fuck her first.  The thought of
thrusting my wad deep into her intestines and organs, feeling the sensation
of her hot, squishy, linings as I emptied an even hotter, thicker, burning
load of ejaculate into her innards, took hold of me.  I picked up a razor
nearby, and prepared to cut a slit several inches long, just under her
navel, in which to enter her.



   Then the vision-phone rang.



   It was Nica.  "Oh Prickhard," she said grinning, "I'm pleased to have
found you at home."



   "Yes Nica," I answered reservedly.



   "Breaking in your new cherry?" she asked.



   "Well, I was, I..."



   "You'll find her rectum, in particular, more resilient than the Rachel
model," she cut in.  "Should fit snugly, grip more tightly, tear the lining
less easily, feel deeper, and heal more quickly as well; -- our genetic
designers are quite proud of her asshole."



   "I'll remember that," I said, thinking that I liked my Rachel's poop
chute just fine.  I loved to feel her tear and bleed, just after I rammed
into the depths of her tender snug bowels.



   "Anyway, I forgot to tell you one very important thing about Raela," she
went on.



   "And what is that?" I asked, thinking it'd probably be some small detail
about the design of her titties, cunt hole or anus.



   I was wrong.



   "Since she's a proto-type, and a special gift for you, she doesn't have
a built-in life-span in her design," Nica informed me.  "She should last
many years, unchanged and perfectly early-pubescent.  Of course, if you
should become weary of her, you can always terminate her yourself through
disembowelment through the anus or vagina -- but of course you know all
about that already." After a pause she added, "Well I just forgot to
mention it earlier, that's all."



   After Nica hung up, I stood perfectly still for some time, thinking.  I
suddenly realized that all my problems had been solved by a single call
from Nica.  It seemed too good to be true; Nica's motives were still
unfathomable to me; and my instincts told me there was something more going
on.  But I had no choice other than to proceed with my plan.



   I put down the razor.  Screwing Raela in the intestines would have to
wait.  There was no time to waste.



   The mountains beckoned.



   * N I N E *



   Skimming across the city not long afterwards in my autohover, leaving
the mega-scrapers, foul air, and stench of the city behind, with Raela
sitting next to me, I felt a rush of exhilaration.  All the pieces of the
puzzle had, seemingly, come together.  Raela - or at least her body - would
make a perfect replacement for Rachel; indeed her slightly older, more
developed, early-teenaged physique, if anything, was more perfect than
Rachel's had been -- a fact that was as astonishing as it was unexpected.
But best of all, after I recovered Rachel's personality implant from her
grave and inserted it into Raela's brain, Rachel's reincarnation would be
complete: her beautiful, unique spirit re-born in an even more beautiful
form.  I would have her back.



   Of course the personality of Raela - her brain implant - would have to
be discarded.  This fact troubled me as we sped along.  As Raela sat next
to me, she playfully stroked my prick in my pants to arouse me.  She was
really rather sweet and flirty, in her own way, and if things had been
different, I might have settled for her just as she was.  But she'd never
have Rachel's mystique, and so, to avoid becoming too attached to her, I
decided to deactivate her implant.



   Drawing her close, as if to fondle her, I reached for the back of her
head, and located the implant in her brain.  "What are you doi..." she
managed to say, just before I pulled the device out.  Immediately she went
passive, staring straight ahead.  She was still functional and mobile, but
utterly zombie-like.  For a moment I contemplated throwing the implant
away. Then I thought better of it.  If I couldn't reincarnate Rachel ....
well, I could do worse than screwing Raela for the rest of my life.



   It was at least another hour to my mountain cabin.  I amused myself by
fondling Raela's little titties as she sat there totally expressionless. 
Lovely little pouting mounds, with beautiful long dark nipples.  I pinched
them until they fully hardened between my fingers.  I longed to suck them.
But I wanted to suck them when she was Rachel.  Rachel adored having her
nipples sucked and bitten and tortured.  She loved it when I sliced into
her nipple duct with a razor blade, rubbed salt into the cut, and then
squeezed very hard.  The pain-pleasure would blow her mind, and she'd weep
lubricant from her pussy copiously.



   Then I slipped my hand down between Raela's legs to finger her pussy. 
She was so tight, so fresh, so...  new.  I could feel the very fine pubic
hairs around her clitoris.  Her clit itself was very pronounced, very
engorged.  I dug my fingernail into her clitoral hood, just like I used to
do to Rachel.  (Rachel liked me to do it until my nail cut into her and
made her clit bleed.) Raela merely flinched slightly when I pinched her
clit; in her state no doubt a purely reflex response.



   I was looking forward to having Rachel's spirit in Raela's body. 
Pressing wire, red-hot from the fire, underneath her clitoral hood, along
her labia, and inside her pussy, used to drive Rachel crazy with pleasure.
I could still remember the smell of her burnt twat, together with the reek
of vaginal secretions, as I tortured her into ecstacy.  As I pinched and
pulled back Raela's inner silky labial folds, I longed to cut and burn and
blister them, but with Rachel's implant in her brain, so that the
gratification from this torture would be hers.



   *



   I was lost in thought, fingering the cherry sitting beside me in the
autohover, and reminiscing about Rachel.  Driving rain brought me back to
reality.  I had to concentrate, driving through a sudden severe electrical
storm.  But thirty minutes later I landed near my cabin.  It was
mid-evening now, the temperature chilly, with light drizzly rain.  I looked
around, and all was quiet.  Raela accompanied me into the cabin.  I sat her
on the bed.  With a face devoid of all expression and emotion, she remained
there.



   Rachel's grave was not far from the cabin, but in the dark, and in
spitting rain, it seemed further than before.  With a flashlight for
illumination, I used a small shovel to dig.



   I wasn't looking forward to this part.  With much sadness - not to
mention large globs on my semen on her dead face - I buried Rachel just
weeks ago.  Exhuming her remains would be a trying experience, even if it
was necessary in order to reincarnate her.  The sight of that beautiful
sexy body, rotting and bloated with worms - not to mention a foul stench
from decomposition - would be ...  unsettling, to say the least. 
Nevertheless, I continued, finally locating the box I'd placed her in, and
pulling it out.  With a gulp, I lifted off the lid, and looked down.



   A feeling of relief swept over me.  Rachel's body looked little
different from the day I'd buried her.  Then I remembered that copulants
were designed not to decompose after termination, but remain almost
mummified-looking for some time.  If their elements weren't recycled by
Tyrent Corp, they eventually crystallized into various element groups. 
Apart from early crystallization of Rachel's toes, she looked the same:
beautiful.  I could even see my dried semen stains on her face when, in a
final ceremonial sexual act of love, I jacked off over her lips, chin and
mouth as she lay in the box.



   I looked at her, looking so peaceful and beautiful in death.  I'd buried
her naked.  Her little tits and smooth pussy looked just as lovely and sexy
as when she was alive.  I had a strong urge to fuck her again, and, for a
moment, seriously contemplated ramming my swelling prick up her tight,
cold, dead twat hole, (even if bits of her womb and ovaries still
protruded-out noticeably.) But then I remembered why I was there. 
Concentrating, I lifted her lovely head and felt for the personality
implant in her brain, which I desperately hoped was still functional.  For
a few moments I couldn't locate it - the light wasn't that good - and panic
set in.  It had to be there!  I kept telling myself.  Finally, after more
poking and probing around my beautiful Rachel's dead head, I found the
micro-computer implant, and pulled it out.  It was still intact; the two
metal pins attached to the processor looked undamaged.



   With much relief I covered Rachel's box, returned it to the ground, and
then covered it again with soil.  I left quickly.  It seemed to me I needed
to look to the future, not dwell on the past.



   I walked hurriedly back to the cabin, Rachel's implant in hand. 
Bursting through the door, I saw Raela still sitting passively on the bed.
It was the last thing I remembered before a massive surge hit my body, and
I fell on the floor unconscious.







   * T E N *



   I wasn't out long, maybe five minutes.  When I came to, I had little
control over my body: I was paralyzed, unable to stand, or even move my
arms much.  But I could see, and what I saw was Nica Bates, and her cherry,
Rina, standing next to her.



   "Nic...," I tried to say, but my mouth wouldn't work either.



   "Don't worry Prickhard," she said grinning, "the paralysis is only
temporary.  You should start to regain movement in ten minutes or so." I
saw something in her hand -- a discharge weapon; she'd used it to zap me
from behind as I walked in the door.  It's a perfect device for capturing
an enemy.



   I moaned some more incoherent words.  Nica correctly deduced that I was
asking why: Why was she here?  Why had she zapped me?



   She stepped toward Raela, still sitting on the bed, zombie-like.  "For
Rachel," she said, taking hold of Raela's head and inserting Rachel's
implant into her brain.  "I'm here for MY Rachel," she added, with heavy
emphasis on the word 'my'.  Immediately Raela's body jolted, and she took a
deep breath.  Her face was suddenly animated, and she looked around the
room.  Right then I knew: she was no longer Raela, but Rachel.  Rachel had
been reborn in a new, perfectly beautiful early-pubescent body.



   "Prickhard!" she exclaimed with joy upon seeing me.  I was just so happy
and relieved to have her back.  But in the circumstances, my exhilaration
was tempered by dread and fear at what Nica had in store.



   "Nica!' Rachel said in astonishment a moment later when she saw the
beautiful blond.



   "Yes, my beloved sweetie," Nica replied in a motherly tone.  "We are
together again.  I have finally found you, and I've given you a beautiful
body even better than your last one."



   While Rachel quickly touched and explored her new, slightly more
developed body, feeling under her clothes for her pouting little breasts
and gently stroking the lips and folds of her vagina, Nica turned coldly to
me:



   "You're such a fool, Prickhard.  A typical cherryrunner: all cock and
balls, and no brains.  I knew you'd lead me to Rachel's personality implant
once I'd tempted you with Raela's gorgeous young body.  I bet you couldn't
wait to stick Rachel's implant into her brain and fuck her until her cunt
and asshole ripped apart around your huge swinging prick!"



   "I...  don't...  understand..." I managed to get out; my vocal cord
muscles at least were returning, as was some movement to the rest of my
body.



   "Of course you don't!" she barked.  "How could you know that Master
Bates, my father, created Rachel for me!  She was mine before you stole
her; the uniqueness and distinctiveness about her that YOU fell for, I
loved first!" She glared at me hatefully, then added, "Once you came back
to LA, I knew Rachel had gushed, and that you were looking for a
replacement.  I guessed that her personality implant was still functional,
and all I had to do was string you along and let you lead me to her, ....
and I was right!  My old Rachel in a new body, and all for ME to enjoy."



   "But Nica, Prickhard didn't steal me," Rachel said.  "I wanted to be
with him. ...  I wasn't happy being your slave.  You always whipped me
until pleasure became pain, and ..."



   "Don't say anything Rachel.  He's corrupted you," Nica snarled at her.



   "But Nica, I love Prickhard," Rachel said, looking anguished at seeing
me at Nica's mercy.  "He's my daddy and my lover and..."



   "Be quiet Rachel!" Nica barked at her.  "He's ruined you.  I've come to
take you home."



   Then Nica moved closer to me.  "Rachel is pedophile perfection -- the
best cherry copulant Tyrent Corp could ever make.  And she's too good for a
hack cherry cop like you."



   With that, Nica untied my pants and exposed my genitals.  Some movement
was returning to my limbs, but I was powerless to stop her.  She took hold
of my prick, holding the massive organ almost lovingly.  She smiled
perniciously, then cupped my testicles in her left hand, squeezing them
with enough force to make me wince.  Itwas then that I saw the hunting
knife in her other hand.  I hadn't noticed that she'd dropped the zapper
weapon on the floor and picked it up.  A shiver went through me as I felt
the cold steel of the knife press underneath against my balls.  Castration
would mean instant termination.



   "Don't Nica, please!" I heard Rachel plead plaintively from the corner.
Nica ignored her, and looked at me.  "Don't worry," she said, "I'll take
care of Rachel.  I'll whip and beat and torture her everyday for our
pleasure.  Her delicious body will be my temple of perpetual ecstacy.  I'll
even wait for her cute little pussy to heal each time after I've whipped
her folds and clit into hanging, shredded strips."



   I felt the knife break skin underneath my balls.  Nica wasn't going to
make it easy for me.  She intended to cut them off slowly, to make my
termination as unpleasant as possible.



   Suddenly I heard a voice from the back: "Mistress, what will happen to
me after Rachel comes home?" It was Rina, Nica's cherry, asking the
question.  "Aren't I your favorite baby?  Don't you like me to suck your
nipples and lick your...  crack best of all?"



   Nica paused, still holding the knife at my nuts.  I could hardly breath.
"Mistress, I want to be your favorite baby," Rina added, her voice becoming
more emotional.  Nica looked annoyed.  "Sorry sweetie," she said turning to
look at her cherry, "only one favorite at a time.  Before you, there was
Rachel.  But don't worry, I'm sure I can find someone else to torture you
every day."



   Nica now looked at me again.  She grinned, and I knew it was all over
for me.  I closed my eyes, expecting my end to come.  I could feel the
knife pressing into my balls.  I was about to say, "Good bye Rachel, I love
you," when Nica shuddered and fell back.  The knife flew from her hand,
thankfully away from my testicles.  I looked up and saw Rina with the
zapper device in her hand.  She'd fired it at Nica, incapacitating her. 
Nica was still conscious, and looked up in rage at the cherry.  Rina
through the device down and picked up the knife.  She lunged at Nica,
thrusting the blade between Nica's legs.  The blade now filled Nica's
vagina; the handle rim pressed flush against her labial folds.  Nica
bellowed, but could do nothing to prevent Rina's rage when the cherry
copulant sliced upward through her clitoris, and then kept going until she
reached her breasts.  Nica bucked violently, whereupon her guts spewed out
in a noisy sustained gush on to the floor.



   *



   Nica was motionless, her insides dangling from her ripped abdomen.  Rina
had killed her.  She sat next to Nica, tears in her eyes, looking pitiful
and forlorn.  Rachel ran into my arms and we embraced.  My mobility was
rapidly returning.  I decided to put Rina out of her misery.  I quickly
located her personality implant and removed it from her brain.  She fell
into a zombie-like passive state; at least she was spared the pain of guilt
at what she'd done.  I was acutely aware, however, that she'd saved my
life.



   But there was one thing I had to know.  I looked at the back of Nica's
head.  I wasn't too surprised to find a personality implant imbedded in her
brain.  Nica was synthetic too.  I'd guessed it some time ago.  Whether her
father, Gil Bates, had created her as a perfect ruthless daughter and
successor, or the real - that is human - Nica Bates had been eliminated at
some point and replaced with an synthetic, I had no idea.  All I cared
about was that she'd been stopped from terminating me and enslaving Rachel.




   I removed the implant and placed it on the ground.  Rachel was about to
step on it and smash it, when I said, "No, baby.  I have a better idea."



   "Yes, daddy-Prickhard," she said respectfully.  Just hearing her say
those words brought joy to my heart -- not to mention a bulge in my pants.



   * E L E V E N *



   We had to get out of there.  There was a real possibility that Nica had
arranged others to follow or track her.  A bunch of Tyrent goons might
burst in at any time.  If they found Nica disembowelled, the punishment for
Rachel and for me would be too horrible to think about.  I told Rachel we'd
head for somewhere sunny and tropical.  There was a place I had in mind. 
She loved the idea.  "Maybe we'll have more luck there than in the
mountains," she said cheekily.



   Now that Rachel had returned, in a slightly more developed and even more
beautiful, sleek early-teen body, I was hornier than ever for her.  The
desire to fill her openings and squirt my burning fluids into her was
overwhelming.  But there was no time.  "We have to leave," I told her as
she pressed against me.  "I know, my daddy," she mumbled in a low sexy
voice.  She reeked of arousal, sexy scents, weeping genital fluids and
raging hormones.



   A moment later she fell to her knees.  I felt her rummaging through my
trousers and underwear.  Then I felt her nose, mouth and tongue caress my
prick and balls.  "I have to smell and taste you," she said faintly.  I
could hear her sniffing, and feel her licking and sucking my genitals. 
Some kind of comfort gesture, I guessed: happiness, joy and relief at
having been saved, brought back, reincarnated.



   When she finally encircled her mouth around my surging erection, I gave
into her pleasuring completely and savored her delicious little licks and
sucks.  The irony of the situation was not lost my me: There I was,
standing, caressing Rachel's beautiful head while she knelt and fellated me
immaculately.  To one side sat Rina, expressionless, zombie-like, staring
blankly ahead.  On the other side, just near us, the terminated remains of
Nica lay crumpled on the floor, her intestines and internal organs seeping
out, a widening stain of blood and guts forming on the floor in front of
her.  I thought I could see in particular her womb and ovaries oozing out.
For some reason, as Rachel's tongue lapped the glans of my prick - causing
heightened ripples of pleasure to flow through me - I found this sight
highly arousing.



   Down below, Rachel sucked and slurped noisily on my dick.  She knew I
loved that.  She was lovingly coaxing the fluids out of me.  Soon I leaned
back, bucked, cried out in ecstacy, and spurted volumes of pungent,
concentrated, burning, acidic seminal fluid and sperm down her throat.  She
coughed and gurgled and spat some of it back involuntarily, but then used
her fingers to eat all residue traces.  I looked down, recovering from an
exquisite orgasm.  Rachel was wincing in pleasure-pain.  My semen was
burning its way down to her stomach.  A moment later and she looked up
smiling, lightly patting her belly.  "Now I have your cum in my tummy,
daddy Prickhard, and I'm happy."



   I loved her for it, but I wished she hadn't said it.  A small trigger
like that can make a cherryrunner like me crazy for more relief.  We're
genetically designed to violate little and young girls - repeatedly if
necessary - each time our semen more concentrated, acidic and and burning.



   "Oh baby....  we've got to leave ...  but ...  oh, I've just got to
empty inside your pussy now...." I mumbled as I rested her gently to the
floor, parted her legs and pressed into her groin.



   "Fill me daddy, fill me daddy Prickhard..." she kept saying, as my
massive erection tore easily through the lining of her panties and filled
her vaginally.  A rush of blood splattered back down my shaft and on to my
balls.  I realized then that she hadn't been opened up before.  Earlier, as
Raela - Nica's "gift" to me - I'd wanted to screw her, but only had time to
fuck her in the mouth.  Now I'd popped her cherry, but she had Rachel's
personality implant in her brain.  So much the better.



   "Put your spermies in my baby sack, daddy, pl..ease," Rachel mumbled
like a mournful little girl.  She was referring to her womb, and she knew
this kind of talk - especially about "spermies" - drove me wild.  I grunted
and thrust deeper inside her.  She was digging her fingernails into my back
as I humped her, enjoying the pleasure from the pain.  I could feel the
lining between her cunt and shit holes stretch and flex from the tension.
But she didn't tear.  Rachel's old body tore every time I thrust deep
inside her with a fully engorged hard-on, though, being a copulant, she'd
always heal within hours.  Nica was right about one thing: Rachel's new
body seemed a little tougher between the vagina and anus.  Even still, I
was thinking it was a bad idea to tear her cervical canal and ejaculate
fully into her womb -- not that it wouldn't have been pleasurable, if
messy, for both of us; it would, but we didn't have the luxury of sleeping
afterwards while she healed.



   So, I tried to pull back a bit, reign in my thrusts, be content with
flooding her beautiful tight young vagina with a load of hot fresh viscous
cum.  But when she wrapped her legs tightly around me and begged me to fill
her deeper, to tear her open, I lost all control, and, in a final frenzied
grinding fuck, I thrust so hard as I came, Rachel's canal ruptured
completely, and I felt my spurts explode and splash into her slippery snug
uterus.



   We both bellowed like babies as we came.  The tearing of Rachel's canal
catapulted her into complete ecstacy.  After I finished spurting and
bellowing, I noticed that Rachel was still pounding her fist into the floor
from the waves of ecstacy that engulfed her during orgasm.  I don't know
when, but sometime during our fucking, she'd reached over and grasped one
of Nica's exposed ovaries.  She was squeezing the bloodied mass and
pounding it into the floor as she climaxed.



   Only my wonderful Rachel could have been so inventive in adding a
deliciously macabre touch to such a perfect and fulfilling fuck.



   * T W E L V E *



   Rachel's ruptured reproductive system, after our screwing, bled and
oozed less fluids than I expected.  It seemed her body type had been
designed to allow deeper penetration into the uterus with less damage and
need for healing afterwards.  Nica had gone the extra yard in making a new
body for Rachel.  I had to give her that.



   But there was no time to waste.  We cleaned up, and left shortly
afterwards.  Rina - or rather Rina's physical body - came with us.  The
zombie sat in the back of my autohover; I was driving, Rachel next to me.
We left Nica's gutted remains behind in the cabin.  But I took Nica's
personality implant, and kept it in my pocket.  I had an idea that it might
be useful.



   We were heading south, to warmer, tropical climes.  But I had just one
stop to make on the way.



   *



   "Stop right there!" a voice barked at me moments after I landed the
autohover.



   We were at the bottom of a ravine in the middle of the mountains.  A
group of grizzly-looking men were sitting around an open fire not far from
their log cabins.  They were drinking.  It was dark, and since the man who
bellowed at me had a weapon in his hand, I got out of the autohover very
cautiously.  "It's OK, Gus.  It's me, Prickhard," I said with my hands up.



   "Prickhard!  You Motherfucker!  What are you doin' here at this hour?"
he replied with a grin after recognizing me.  I was relieved when he
lowered his weapon.  "Brought you a present," I told him.  A crooked smile
came to one corner of his mouth.



   I knew Gus and his four buddies well.  They lived the rough life in the
mountains, away from the mega-cities, prospecting for gold.  They made a
meager living, but mainly cherished being able to live as they pleased,
free of big city hassles.  Visitors weren't welcome, and they trusted no
one.  But I'd spent time with them in the past, brought them much needed
supplies from time to time, and generally had their trust.



   "We usually like your presents, Prickhard," Gus said in his gravelly
voice.



   "Yeah, and you're gonna like this one too," I replied grinning.



   I gestured to Rachel to bring Rina from the autohover.  A minute later I
held the expressionless zombie Rina was for Gus and his friends to see. 
"Got a surplus cherry for you," I said.  "If you want her, you can do
whatever you want to her."



   Gus and his friends suddenly had looks of pure lust on their faces. 
"We'll take the cunt," Gus said, his eyes pouring over her.  "We need a new
piece of kiddy ass to tend to us, and soak up our cum as well." There was
shared laughter amongst the men.  "Yeah, that's real good looking youngen'
cherry cunt, Prickhard.  We'll take REAL good care of her," one of the
other men said.



   "What about the other cherry?" Gus said looking lustfully at Rachel.  I
shook my head.  "That's my cherry, and mine alone," I replied with a
self-satisfied grin.  A smile came to Rachel's mouth.  Gus feigned a look
of envy; his way of complimenting me on my good fortune.



   Gus opened his arms, a gesture inviting me to throw him the girl.  But
before I did, I took Nica's personality implant out of my pocket and
inserted it into the head of what had been Rina.  Suddenly the pre-teenaged
cherry copulant girl's body flinched and became animated.  The personality
of Nica had kicked in.



   "Prickhard!" Nica exclaimed upon seeing me.  "Where the...?  What the
...?" she said looking down at herself, now in what had been Rina's body.
She screamed in horror.  Immediately I threw her over to Gus and his
buddies.  They caught her eagerly, and ripped her clothes off in a frenzy.



   "You little cunt-hole dick sucker," one man said groping her.  "You're
gonna regret the day you were manufactured." The others laughed.



   "No!..No!...No!....," Nica screamed as the men threw her around,
fingered her anus and vagina, and cruelly pinched her little titties. 
"Prickhard!....  Please!....  Don't .....Please!..." she screamed at me.



   "She's a nasty, uncooperative cherry cunt," I said to Gus.  "You'll have
to break her in." Gus grinned.



   "This pussy will purr like a kitten before we're through, -- boys, bring
the cunt over here," he said.  Then he stepped over and picked up a
smouldering, burnt stick from her open fire.



   Rachel and I watched as the men held Nica on her back over a large rock.
"You can't do this!" Nica screamed.  "I'm Nica Bates -- I run Tyrent
Corporation, and you ...."



   "..  And I'm Abraham Lincoln," Gus said laughing at her.  As Nica yelled
abuse at him, Gus pressed the smoldering stick into her left nipple,
burning and blistering it.  Nica cried out.  "Shut your mouth, cunt, or
I'll cook all your tasty bits before we fuck ya." He proved the point by
pressing the stick into her other nipple.



   "Love these cherries," he said turning to me.  "You can burn their
little titties one day, and suck on 'em the next like they're your mamma's
jugs -- all nice and healed."



   "Prickhard, I'll give you anything you want if you ..." Nica started to
say before another singeing to her titty bumps made her scream again. 
Since Nica would happily have cut my balls off to terminate me, and taken
Rachel back to a life of daily torture, I felt no sympathy for her.  For
all I knew, she'd killed the real Nica Bates anyway before assuming her
personality.



   "We'll leave you to enjoy your new toy," I said, taking Rachel's arm.



   Gus grunted appreciatively.  "If this cherry don't settle down, I'll
push a burning hot rock from the fire up her cunt before I fuck her up the
ass," he said.  The other men laughed approvingly.



   But just as we turned to leave, Rachel whispered to me, "Don't forget to
tell them how much she enjoys being whipped between the legs." I laughed.
"Oh yes," I said, turning to Gus.  "She likes being pussy and asshole
whipped."



   Gus' eyes lit up.  "Pull her legs apart," he told the others.  Still on
the rock, they spread Nica's thighs and exposed her hairless prepubescent
vagina.  Gus knelt down and played at her labia.  "Lovely little soft, wet,
silky, pussy flaps," he said, pulling at them to expose her opening.  Nica
again cried out to me to save her.  But I just watched as Gus untied his
leather belt and removed it.  His pants dropped to the ground revealing a
massive bulge in his shorts.  His buddies laughed.  Gus didn't seem to
care. No doubt they had engorged dicks as well.



   Gus wrapped the belt around his hand, leaving a frayed, rough end free
to whip Nica with.  The men held her tight.  Gus swung back and then
walloped Nica fully across the crack of her twat.  A hand over her mouth
muffled Nica's scream.  Three more powerful strikes to her folds, opening
and clit followed.  Long dark welts criss- crossed her pussy.  Blood from
rips and tears to her tissues ran down her legs.  A further lighting-fast
flick of the belt right at the entrance of her vagina caused her thighs to
splatter with pussy-blood.



   "Nica's implant isn't pain-pleasure reverse-polarity designed," Rachel
whispered to me.  "She can feel all the pain." Then she added afterwards
coldly, "Good."



   "Turn her over," Gus barked at the others.  They were happy to oblige.
With the small dainty cheeks of her ass forced open, Gus let rip with a
stinging wallop to her exposed pink anus.  Though they held her firmly, she
still bucked wildly.  The hand over her mouth continued to muffle her
cries. Swish-thwhack, swish-thwhack, swish-thwhack, I heard as Gus whipped
her poop hole with his belt several more times.  "That'll do, boys.  Hold
her steady.  I'm gonna fuck her up the ass now," he said, pressing his dick
in to the bruised, bloodied, welt-marked, torn entrance to her rectum.  I
heard his grunt as he impaled her anally.  Nica gave a long muffled
guttural cry as she felt her rear opening being rammed open and filled. 
After that, Gus humped furiously in and out of her.  The others watched on
impatiently; each man thirsting for his opportunity to pick one of her
holes and screw her.



   "Lets go," I said to Rachel.  Her eyes were wide as saucers as she
watched Nica being whipped and raped.  She nodded, but I got the distinct
impression she enjoyed watching her old mistress being on the receiving end
of a lash.



   Just after we lifted off in the autohover, I heard Nica emit an enormous
cry.  I looked at Rachel.  We both smiled.  I think we both had the same
thought: though we were too high to look down and see, maybe Gus had made
good his threat after all and shoved a burning hot rock from the fire right
up her cunt.







   * T H I R T E E N *



   I plotted-in our heading and destination, set the autohover on
computer-pilot, and sat back with Rachel for what I hoped would be a
trouble-free trip.  I put my arm around her.  She nestled into me.  It was
the first chance we had to relax and savor our reunion.



   "Thank you for not discarding me," she said, as I slipped my hand under
her top to fondle her pretty little titties.



   "If you hadn't whispered that phrase to me after you gushed, I might
never have worked out how to bring you back," I told her.  I then explained
the whole story of my dealings with Tyrent Corporation, my involvement with
Nica, and the events that had led to bringing her back.



   "You weren't tempted to just keep Raela in this body and forget about
me?" she asked coyly.



   "There IS only one you," I told her tenderly.  "Nica was so obsessed by
your sensual perfection she risked everything to find you."



   "And lost everything," Rachel replied.  I nodded.  After a few moments
she asked, "What will happen when Nica is never heard from again?  What
will Tyrent Corp do?"



   I raised my eyebrows and shrugged.  "I think Tyrent is now completely
run by synthetics; the managers, the scientists -- all of them.  The
natural human population don't know anymore, assuming there are natural
humans left." After a pause I added, "Tyrent, I imagine, will just
manufacture another Nica -- I'm sure they still have her template somewhere
- and go on as usual."



   Rachel nodded.  "I don't care," she said, "just as long as they don't
find us."



   I smiled reassuringly.  But deep down I knew that that wouldn't be easy.




   *



   We stopped talking and I closed my eyes.  Then I sensed movement in
Rachel.  She was shuffling, rubbing her legs together, caressing her thighs
sensuously.  I knew why: she was horny.  I could smell the arousal in her.
Nica's pussy and ass-whipping had turned her on.



   I untied her top and gently sucked on her little nipples.  They were so
hard, like bullets.  It gave me great comfort to suck on her, and she
caressed my head lovingly.  Though she treated me like a daddy at times, I
often felt like a boy nursing at his mommy when I licked and sucked on her.
That was the uniqueness of Rachel: a young girl's beauty, an innate love
and tenderness for me, an enormous thirst for extreme torture-sex, and an
inner maturity and strength.  I was so relieved to have her back.



   Rachel was moaning.  I licked down her wonderfully firm, flat, tummy,
stopping to suck her belly button.  Then I push down between her legs.  She
was sopping wet.  Dribbles of her pussy juice were streaming down her legs.
A pool of wetness had formed on the seat underneath her.  She needed to be
filled again, torn open, stretched, pounded into, and squirted with seminal
fluids deep inside.  But the autohover was a cramped place in which to
fuck, and, as we sped along, away from danger, I was reluctant to stop.



   So I licked and ate her out until I felt drenched in her secretions and
lubricants.  I nibbled and bit on her clit and folds, making her climax and
spurt her juices, time after time.  Finally, she seemed a little sated, and
I rested.



   Then, I saw a long pin on the floor of the autohover.  I picked it up
and inserted it underneath the hood of her clitoris, pushing through the
mass of her clitoral nerves.  She parted her legs to allow me every
opportunity to spike her clit.  Spiking her clitoris left a lingering look
of pleasure and enjoyment on her face.  She reciprocated by taking my cock
out and sucking me off gently, lovingly, expertly.  Finally, she made me
climax, and in a powerful explosion of ecstacy, I flooded her face with the
whitest, stickiest, hottest load of semen I'd dropped for some time.  As it
evaporated and dried on her lovely face, I wiggled and pulled at the pin in
her clitoris.  She was content to enjoy this pleasure- pain until we
reached our destination.



   THE END



   Copyright (C) 2001, Tiberius.  ALL Rights Reserved

   ===========================



   This story is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and
incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used
fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.



   **********************************

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[0contTiberius.htm] in the same catalogue. Or on my homepage Sergdriver
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Sergdriver/www/index.htm

   There more many fascinating stories of other writers and mine too!

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