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Dear readers,
An apology for the prolonged hiatus. Midway through 2022 I experienced a great and sudden loss that led to changes in my daily routine that made it nearly impossible for me to keep on writing.
But now I’m — tentatively — back and determined to finish this silly little story of mine. I hate leaving things unfinished. I should warn you thou, this will likely be a rough landing, but as they say in aviation: Any landing you can walk out of is a ‘good’ landing.
Lastly, if you could do me a favor, please visit, hug, and try to enjoy more than usual the company of those you love. Things can change fast, unfairly so. You never know which will be the last moment you’ll get to remember of someone before they’re gone. So try, if possible, to make them all count.
Thanks as always to my readers for their patience and support. Most special thanks to Jade.Indigo (also a Nifty author!) for their help, friendship, and always thoughtful feedback.
You can send your comments and feedback at: inaccesiblecardinal@protonmail.com
This is a long-form series so you may want to read from the start, but the gist of it is:
In a near-future America struck by civil war, global warming, technological disruptions, moral decay, and an infertility crisis that renders all men infertile except for a small window of time after boys hit ‘spermarche’ (their first ejaculation), whoever controls boy sperm controls the world — or at least what’s left of it —. Hijinks ensue.
And remember this is a public domain story, so it’s yours to steal/appropriate and do however you please with it! More information at the end.
An old vending machine rumbles beneath the scorching midday sun. Locked in a relentless duel against the oppressive heat in a bustling commercial esplanade near the sea.
The machine struggles on, its worn compressor and rusty pipes safeguarding the cargo of cold beverages nestled inside. It's thermodynamic plight completely unnoticed by the tourists, their patience worn thin by the heat. Even the few who steal a glance at the sun-faded ad for a sperm-flavored soda drink on the machine's front see nothing but a mechanical beggar of a bygone era. A servant weathered beyond its prime. Struggling to endure in an environment its creators thought all but unimaginable.
A pair of almond-shaped eyes fixate on the vending machine. They brighten in recognition at the gaudy artwork decorating the machine's front, a cartoon nude boy shooting a stream of cum into a bottle.
A twelve-year-old girl of Asian features splits from the crowd. Her attire reminiscent of someone on the service industry. Crisp white shirt, high-waisted black pants, bags beneath her eyes after endless, ungrateful shifts. There's almost nothing remarkable about her other than traces of platinum on the tips of her hair. Testament to a boldness now almost completely erased by her current job.
Flustered, the Asian girl inspects the vending machine's and presses a button. She searches her pockets and produces an old smartphone and waves it in front of the control panel. A plastic bottle lands on the metal tray with a resolute thud. Its cloudy-white surface immediately transpiring from the abrupt temperature difference.
A triumphant smile curves the girl's lips. She bends to claim her prize.
"Hey biscuit. Lookin' for some fun?" a deep, sensual female voice says behind her.
The preteen turns and yelps when she finds herself surrounded by a trio of tall, gorgeous women in near non-existent golden bikinis and fully tattooed bodies who have materialized out of nowhere. They've encircled her in a meat cage of sculpted abs, narrow waists, long legs, and globulous breasts seemingly about to burst from the ridiculously thin ribbons holding them in place.
The glitter-laden smile of the woman at the center —their aparent leader — falters for a second when she sees the face of the young girl caught in their web.
“Gurl, have we met before?”
The twelve-year-old opens her mouth but words struggle to come out. Too transfixed by the smooth skin decorated with intricate pixelated tattoos surrounding her.
The towering Amazonian stares at the frightened girl. It seems like she has seen her before. She gives up trying to remember and snatches the bulky smartphone out of her small hands.
“What's this?”
The tween waitress is about to protest when the other two women press their breasts against her face. She cowers against the vending machine and watches helpless as the gang leader inspects the smartphone.
“’TASER’?” she reads from the back of the phone “What kind of bootleg brand is that?”
The girl jolts “Um…!”
“It looks ancient. Can you still make your payment with it?”
The preteen’s eyebrows raise. She nods.
The voluptuous woman stares skeptical at the girl for a couple of seconds. She handles the phone back.
"Alright biscuit, let’s get started. What's your name?"
The girl's face flashes in panic, as if realizing she forgot to bring something important.
"Um! Car, Car... Carly."
The woman smirks, revealing a row of gold-plated teeth.
"Like the presidential candidate uh? Okay, okay... Then you can call me like her running mate. What was that bitch’s name...? Jennette! How about that?"
'Carly' nods, eyes locked on the wasp-like abdomen of the experienced sex workers around her.
"You came early. Is this your first time?"
"Y-yes, I mean NO! N-no..."
'Jennette' purrs and narrows her eyes. Her eyelashes glittering under the harsh sunlight.
"Gurl, you're adorable! I wish all our clients were as cute as you… Say, your parents, do they know where you're? Remember that there won't be bots watching over you where we're going. It's the only way we can be as... Hardcore as our clients demand."
Carly nods, her cheeks growing red. Jeanette's smile widens.
"And how about your girlfriend, boyfriend? Are they cool with you doing this?"
Carly jumps, surprised by the question. She shakes her head no in fast, firm motions.
"N-no no, I've never had a..." she stops "I don't have a boyfriend anymore. He… uhm, vanished."
Jennette coos and extends a hand towards the girl’s face. She tenses as a long finger decorated with a sharp, glowing nail moves a flock of her fine black hair away.
"Gurl, that's so sad! So young and already heartbroken? What world we live in..." she lets out a long, wishful sigh. She nods at her two silent partners who reshuffle and press the preteen between them, forcing her to walk.
For an outside observer, they look like a trio of hardened prostitutes escorting a nervous first timer who, after saving pennies for a long time in her back-breaking job, finally gathered enough courage to skip work, replied to the first, shadiest classified ad she could find, and is about to find out she paid for way more than she hoped for. An amusing sight, yet nothing too out of the ordinary.
“Gurl, RELAX, there's still bots watching us…" says Jeanette gripping Carly's shoulder. She points at the cameras nestled between the palm trees lining the street.
The Asian girl nods, her body shaking. Her gaze mesmerized on the bouncing butt cheeks of the tattooed woman walking in front of her.
Jeanette smiles and hugs their new, deliciously young client from behind. Her prominent bosom pressing on the girl's small head.
"Don't worry biscuit, we'll be gentle with you. We’ll have so much fun," she runs a hand across the girl’s near-flat chest, causing her to shiver.
Jeanette's eyebrows frown, a whisp of recognition on her face. One of those hard-to-pin-down memories that keeps bothering you, like a piece of food stuck in one’s teeth.
"Are you sure we haven't met before?"
“Ah! I remember you now!" Jeanette announces snapping a finger.
Carly can only murmur a response. She's naked and ball-gagged with her wrists handcuffed high above her head. She stands with her legs spread wide apart inside a shady, cheap sex dungeon at an undisclosed part of town. Around her, racks with BDSM gear of suspicious origin. Sticky furniture, a dirty bathroom, a minifridge with overpriced drinks. Rows of screens playing insurance ads lining the fake stone walls.
“I mean, I don’t remember you, but I remember your parents," recalls Jannette securing a strap-on around her hips. The fake 10-inch phallus glowing with a pulsing golden light. “They belonged to a cult of some kind where you couldn’t have sex until marriage, so they organized a pretend-rape to get their daughter pregnant. But the boys they hired were dumb and fucked another girl by mistake! And so your folks came to us looking for boy sperm to complete the farse. It was hilarious!"
"Mhhgmmh...!" mutters Carly as one of the Amazonian women squeezes her immature breasts from behind. The other woman rubbing and teasing the inside of her legs stretched obscenely apart. Her immature vulva crowned with a small triangle of peach-like pubic hair.
Jennette walks in a circle and smiles as she replays the memory in her head "Gurl, how could I forget? You were THE talk of the week! Everyone was talking about you! Oh! And the video the boys recorded! Gurl, you remember that shit!?" her coworkers nod in response without stopping their ministrations on the girl's body. "I know! That was fucked up! And it was REAL! Like, real-real, nothing was generated! Wait, let me find it..."
She grabs a stained remote control from between rows of neon-colored dildos. She presses a few buttons and the ads for a nanotechnology miracle cure change. The sex dungeon gets flooded with the pops and cracks of a handheld video. A group of preteen boys laugh and chat. Their voices interrupted by the shrieking screams and pleads of a ten-year-old girl.
“NOOO! Pleaseeee…!” the girl in the video keeps yelling “Don’t do it to meeee!”
Jeanette laughs and puts and arm around Carly's sweaty and out-stretched naked body. The girl tries to look away but the woman holds her jaw, forcing her to watch the screens. The fingers and mouths of her two coworkers keep the preteen maddening close to orgasm. It's been like that for more than an hour.
“Man, she’s tight!” says a boy on the video.
“N-NOOO!” pleads the blindfolded girl on screen held by her arms and legs by three other boys.
“Hey! Get out of her pussy! It’s my turn!”
“NO! NO! NO! NOOoooo…!”
"Gurl, can you imagine...?" whispers Janette after a couple of minutes watching the hardcore snuff film. "You're walking down the street, minding your silly elementary school business when all a sudden… BLAM! Dicks all over your face!” she chuckles “Hey, whatever happened to that girl? I heard they forgot to untie her and left her naked on that roof for God knows how long. Did she die?"
"Mmmh!" Carly gaggles, although it's unclear if it was a response to her question or a reaction to the other women's touch.
"Yeah, you’re right, not important," she hugs Carly closer "Gurl... I bet that's why you came to us now,” she kisses the panting girl's cheek, her voice a hoarse whisper. "I bet you've seen this video a thousand times, masturbating nonstop. Wondering what it would've been like had those boys done their job correctly and fucked you silly. Treated like a piece of meat, with no one caring whether you’re enjoying it or not. No safe words. No way to make them stop,” she gets closer to her ear “Would you like to find out…?"
"Mmmmmghhff!”
She laughs and presses another button on the remote control, freeing Carly’s wrists.
One of her partners holds the small girl and holds her while the other woman slides a rough wooden stool under her. She deposits the nude tween on top of it while keeping her legs spread wide apart.
Jannette smiles and slaps her thighs, causing her strap-on to wiggle from side to side. Carly looks down her panting stomach and opens her eyes wide.
"You ready biscuit?"
"Mmhmghg!"
Jennette smirks and tiptoes her way to her stretched and unprepared target. She takes her time, letting the golden dildo lead the way. Her hips sway forwards and backwards, following the boy’s laughs and girl’s screams from the many screens around them like a song.
“NOoooo! PLEASEeee! STOP! Mommyyys! Help me!”
“Stop crying! You're killing the fun.”
"Tape her mouth!"
"No wait, she's still to suck me!"
“Aw man, I’m cumming!”
“Yuck man! She’s so sticky already!”
“Me! I want to go inside her next!”
"MMMMHHH!!!"
All a sudden, Janette’s irises flicker with small geometric shapes. She drops her shoulders with a groan and taps her temple.
"WHAT!? I'M BUSY!"
Her expression holds for a few seconds as words she can only hear reach her cochlear implants. Her face shifts from anger to confusion. Then, abject fear.
"Y-yes, I understand. It won't happen again Boss... And I'm so, so sorr-"
She blinks, her interlocutor hung up. She finally remembers to breath. The other two women watch her with questioning looks. one of them still mercilessly rubbing the twelve-year-old's clitoris.
Jeannette gestures at random trying to line up her thoughts.
"Gotta make a call," she finally says "Keep her on the edge 'till I return."
The two other women share a knowing glance. Then they shrug and turn their attention back to their bound and near-orgasmic client.
One woman raises Carly's small body as if she weighted nothing and drops her in a small couch on the corner of the room. It's the same place where the rest of her clothes and belongings ended up when they stripped her naked.
Then, like hyenas lurching over a wounded prey, both prostitutes attack the girl's small erogenous zones. They rub, tease, pinch, and slurp with the unrestrained gusto of professionals asked to kill time doing what they know to do best.
"Mmmmghghhh!" moans Carly about to lose her mind.
Her groans are abruptly silenced. Jeanette closes the dungeon door embezzled with a red digital clock. She walks naked down the poorly-lit corridor connecting the other dungeons. Her fingers tap the air writing a long, windy, alphanumeric number she memorized by heart. The glowing strap-on bouncing by her hips.
When she reaches the end of the hallway she stops and stands in place tapping the floor with a bare foot. Nearby a poster lists the hourly prices for singles, couples, and family packages. Kids 50% off!
"Gurl, we got a problem," she says the moment the call connects "It's your Mom. I don't know how, but she KNOWS about us. What do we do!?"
Jeannette holds her breath as she waits for an answer. Then blinks, confused, and taps her temple a couple of times.
"Hello...? Hello? Psh! Thanks for the heads-up you filho da mãe," she mutters to herself and heads back. She murmurs a few more Portuguese swear words along the way.
Back at her dungeon the door clock reads 00:22:15:03 in bold, red numbers. She swings it open.
"Alright bitches! Let's get the hell out of-!"
She stops. The room is empty.
"Gurl, what the fu-?"
Pain. Sharp, pulsating, electric pain she hadn't felt since her days as a child sex slave many lifetimes ago. The 50,000 volts against her skin locks her muscles and wipes her brain clean of all thoughts. It's exactly as she remembered it.
Jennette's body lands like a log on the floor. She gasps for air. Inside the small bathroom she sees her two colleagues in similar conditions. Gagged and tied with the same bondage gear they used on their young client.
A naked Carly closes the door and hops atop Jennette’s body. She ties her wrists and ankles with eerie speed.
"WHERE ARE THEY!?" hisses the twelve-year-old. She wields the TASER phone close to her face, small sparks flying from the base.
The hardened prostitute lets out a pained laugh, catching the girl off-guard.
"I-I know who you are now... T-that thing about your boyfriend should've been a dead away. But you're going to need WAY more than that for me to tell you where Samantha is!"
Carly hisses and moves the non-lethal weapon closer.
"Who the hell is Samantha!? I'm talking about the boy sperm! Where are you hiding it!?"
Jennette's eyebrows crumple in confusion. Carly glances at the red clock on the door, groans, and shocks her on the thigh. The Amazonian’s body shake and teeth clench once again.
"That's for making me pay for a WHOLE DAY at this horrible place! That was a month's worth of salary! Now tell me where you hide the boy sperm or I'll keep zapping you until my phone’s battery runs out!"
Jennette gasps for air and laughs once again. The sounds coming from the screens are reminiscent of a school playground. Boys chatting, fighting, laughing, one-upping one another. The only difference being the shrieking screams of an elementary-school girl getting gangbanged.
"A-alright biscuit, calm down… We should kick the living hell out of you for trying to mug us. But we have bigger issues to deal with right now. So, by all means, take the darn boy cum if you want it so much!"
Carly wets her lips and nods "O-okay. Good! Now where is it?"
"In our pockets."
Carly frowns and looks down at both their naked bodies. Janette sighs and motions she needs some room. She opens her legs and produces a thin, capsule-like container from inside her vagina. As if on cue, the boys on the video cheer in unison.
"There! See if I care. We're leaving the country anyways."
The twelve-year-old sneers and holds the pen-sized sperm straw with two fingers. She jolts and almost drops it when she touches it.
"It's FREEZING! You had this inside you all this time!?"
The adult woman rolls her eyes "Gurl, I have it easy. Monike over there carries four of these."
One of the tied women on the bathroom murmurs something behind her mouth gag. On the screens one of the boys is retelling how the girl almost bit his dick off.
“And I hope you have a plan to carry these babies out in the street,” Jeannete lifts her torso with some difficulty. “Because if any bot notices a cold spot on your body with their infrared cameras you'll be dead in minutes. Trust me on that one!"
Carly gulps and is about to stand up when she remembers something.
"Wait! One last thing. Where does this sperm come from? Is it true there's farms out there full of boys who hit spermarche?' she wets her lips, her cheeks blushing "And is it true they're all naked and… They get ‘milked’ all day long?"
Jennette's expression darkens. The laughs of boys filling the air in the room.
"Gurl, you're in BIG trouble as it is by stealing from The Boss. Don't make things worse by asking how the sausage is made..."
"Welcome! What can I serve y-?"
The freckled smile of the nine-year-old shopkeeper vanishes. A hastily clothed Carly stumbles inside the cute ice cream shop. Her legs squeezed close together.
"C-chocolate! Chocolate ice cream, p-please!"
The young clerk blinks and nods. She grabs a wafer cone but Carly stops her.
"No! In a container. The l-largest you got!"
"Oh! Okay…?"
The twelve-year-old stares daggers at the younger employee as she prepares her order. She rings the payment. When the kid finally hands the preteen the 1.5 quart-sized ice cream box Carly snatches it out of her small hands.
"Bathroom! Where's your bathroom!?"
"Uhm!" the shopkeeper says eyeing an 'employees-only' door on the left "I’m not supposed to..."
A glance at Carly's disjointed expression is enough to make the small girl change her mind. She hands the twelve-year-old a key with a pizza keychain. She rushes inside the lavatory.
Words cannot describe Carly's relief as she pulls the seventh ice-cold straw out of her pussy. She rinses it on the sink, buries it inside the soft ice cream, and closes the container lid. The Asian girl lets out a long, satisfied breath of relief, and pulls her panties and pants up.
She stands in front of the mirror with uneasy steps, sore after everything that happened. She readjusts her clothes and messy hair as best she can. To think she must go to work after all this.
"Welcome! What can I serve you...?" says the clerk on the other side of the bathroom door "Oh...! Another one?"
The new customer says something, but Carly isn't listening anymore. She takes the TASER smartphone out her pocket, taps an icon, and drums the sink with her fingers as she waits.
"Come on... Come on..." she drones on, then rolls her eyes once the call goes to voicemail. She puts a hand over the receiver.
"Hey! It's me! Call me as soon as you can, I have a surprise for you and the members of the Church," she eyes the dessert on the sink and smiles. "I can't go into details, but let's say soon I won't have to waiter bratty rich kids anymore," she giggles "Love you, bye!"
She hangs up, grabs the ice cream box and readies to leave. Yet not five seconds later her phone rings and Carly rushes to answer.
"Dad! That was quick. Listen, I...!"
"Are you the dame who rescued me?" says a boy on the other side of the line in a heavy Quebecoise accent.
"W-what?"
"I never got your name, so I'm calling all the dames of your genotype ‘till I find the one who rescued me. It's me! You remember? From the tall building and the scary dame with a canne à bétail that went Bzzzt! Bzzt!"
"N-no! You got the wrong person... I’ll hang up,” she pauses “Wait, you are calling every SINGLE one of my twins!? There must be thousands of us! Why would you do that?"
Behind her, the door opens.
"Oh! Oui, oui, it's taking forever! But I got to find the dame who rescued me before it's too late! She's in great danger! She doesn't know she's walking into a trap! If you see her, would you warn her?" a pause "Um, Bonjour…? Are you still there? Es-tu là...?"
Yet Carly isn't listening anymore. Her phone lies on the floor as she stares wide-eyed at a second version of herself on the bathroom’s mirror. A younger Carly with spiky platinum hair, an orange t-shirt, a hollow, vacant stare on her face and a gun on her hand.
"Hey, are you...? Oh for God's sake... WAKE UP!"
Carolina jolts awake on her seat, snatched out of a bizarre dream. She rubs her eyes and looks around. She finds herself on the upper floor of a small seaside restaurant above a vibrant coastal city. Reggaeton coming from the floor below. The caws of seagulls flying above. The buzz of quadcopters serving tables around them.
"S-sorry. I haven't slept in..." she recoils as if a hairy tarantula materialized on the metal table between her and Ramesh. "Oh my God, is that thing loaded?"
"Of course it's loaded! Didn't you grow up in this darn country?" says Ram in a thick Indian accent sliding a 9mm pistol across the Coca-Cola table. "And yes, I can tell you haven't slept, you look like a zombie. Now don't stare at it! Pick it up!"
Carolina lifts the gun with two fingers. It's heavier than she expected, with a distinct, revolting oil smell and a harsh, unfinished feel in her hand. She immediately hates it.
Grimacing, she opens a stylish handbag on her side —with the price tag still attached — and drops the weapon. Abuelita's smartphone and a pair of handcuffs already inside.
"Now, as I was saying, it's essential we make the switch somewhere bots aren't watching," explains Ram. He takes his mirrored sunglasses off, revealing week-old cuts and bruises on his face.
Despite Ram wearing cheap, wrinkled clothes, he still looks like an incognito celebrity. As if not even flea-market clothes were able to hide the charismatic aura underneath. "If you let your twin escape and bots find her roaming the street the gig is OVER, you understand? The blockchain should report that she stumbled with one of her twins. Then she talked with her for a little while, followed her inside a car out of town, and came back with a new hair color. Nothing the bots haven't seen hundreds of times before."
The Asian tween nods and moves on her chair, overwhelmed with the ambition of their mission. At the start of their search it seemed impossible they'll ever find Samantha. But once Ram found her username and pinned her location everything seemed to fall into place. Even the discovery of Caro’s twin amongst the list of service workers seemed preordained.
Still…
"I don't know Mister, are you sure this is going to work?” says Caro pushing a platinum flock of hair off her forehead “I mean, she and I are nothing alike."
"You're exactly alike," retorts Ram putting his sunglasses back on. "They used the literal same blueprint."
"B-but she's older than me! More mature! She even has..." the preteen girl waves her hands around her near-flat chest. "The bots won't believe that we switched places!"
He laughs and points at the crowded esplanade below. "You could fuck her right there and bots would STILL have a hard time telling you two apart."
"B-but...!"
Ramesh leans forward on his chair, grimacing from the pain of his many injuries.
"Listen kiddo, a word of advice on this whole bots-watch-everything-you-do... It's all bullshit. The reason the system exists is that there's not enough people to staff a proper surveillance state. Governments don’t care about bot's shortcomings so long they find political dissidents. Hell, they can't distinguish actual crimes from pretend ones! So you switching places with a waitress for a few hours should be a walk in the park."
He chuckles, takes another sip of a half-empty Corona beer, and notices Caro looking at him funny.
"What? Did I say something?"
But before the Asian girl can answer Rebecca barges back to their table. She wears a pale-yellow sundress, blue choker, and holds a wafer cone with a swoop of pearly-white ice cream.
"Hey guys! I'm back! What did I miss?"
Carolina looks like she's about to show her the contents of her purse. But then reconsiders and leans back on her seat.
"Nothing. We're still waiting for my twin to pop up."
"STILL!?" says Becks slumping on the one empty chair around the table. The other chair already occupied by a large tote bag. Inside are the Trump plushie, Beck’s camera, and their few other belongings "Man, his spy stuff is boooring!"
Caro nods and stares at the ice cream spiral on the black girl's hand. She wets her lips "Hey, can I have some?"
"Oh! Sure, have at it... Meteor," says the twelve-year-old with a smirk.
Caro rolls her eyes and leans across the table to bite the tip of the dessert.
"Mmmh! It's yummy! But what flavor is it? I have a feeling I've tasted it before."
"Oh, I bet you recognize it from last night…" says Rebecca in a suggestive manner. She licks the ice cream “It's boy cum-flavored.”
Carolina starts coughing. Becks bursts out laughing. The Asian girl is about to complain when Ramesh gasps and cowers in his seat.
"Shit! There she is!"
"Uh?"
Both girls follow his line of sight at the street below. They see a row of small shops with a few pedestrians on the sidewalk.
"Don't look! Be cool. Her bodyguard can detect people staring at them. Even from a distance."
The girls look away. Ram straightens in his seat and pretends to type the air with his fingers. His eyesight hidden by the mirrored sunglasses.
"Take only brief glances. As if you're bored and looking at the landscape. It's the man in black and the girl in red."
Both preteens nod. They sit straight on their chairs and do as if they were admiring the ocean and sea wall in the horizon, taking turns to glance at the street below.
Now that Caro knows what she's searching for, two figures pop like a sore thumb on the sunny sidewalk. A tall, slim man with a beard and red glasses dressed in a black, tailored suit. Ahead of him a short, slim figure in a tight-fitting bright red costume reminiscent of a spacesuit. Golden-plated helmet and all.
"I had never seen an environmental suit before," she says cleaning her tastebuds from the ice cream "And that man, he walks... Weird."
Ramesh smirks "If you had never seen an environmental suit before, it's no wonder you've never seen an android bodyguard either."
Rebecca's eyes pop wide "That man is not real!?"
He smirks "His price tag is real. One of those VIP models starts at a hundred million bucks." His curiosity finally gets the best of him and he lowers the sunglasses. He wants to look at them with his own eyes "What I can't believe is that Sam is real. We're likely one of the few people on Earth who has seen her in public."
"Wait, how do we know she's Samantha?"
“Trust me kiddo, I know,” he pushes the glasses up his nose “People who are untouchable walk a certain way. But if you need hard evidence, look where they're heading into."
Caro takes another glance at the street and sees the girl in the red spacesuit entering one of the shops. The bearded bodyguard remains standing outside with his arms crossed.
"A comic book shop?" reads Becks.
He chuckles “Finding Sam's username wasn’t enough to track her location. I combed through all her blockchain entries until I found regular purchases of $129 dollars made over the last few years. Which turns out, is exactly how much a-"
"A new manga costs," Rebecca interrupts. The other two stare at her "What? I'm not all about sex. I also like reading. Hey! I’m starting to like this spy stuff."
The twenty-year-old rolls his eyes "Yeah, whatever. Once I realized we had an otaku on our hands finding her was easy enough," he waves at the comic store.
"Alrighty then!" says the black girl standing up "Shall we go talk to her then?"
Both Ram and Caro wave frantically at her to sit back.
"NO! Are you crazy!?"
"But... How are we going to rescue Miguel then?"
Ramesh drops his shoulders "That's what we've been discussing all morning! You're supposed to follow her from a distance, find where she's staying, and get back to us. Haven't you been paying attention?"
Becks slumps back on the seat "Listening to your plans is boooring."
"Then get this ONE thing inside that thick skull of yours. If you get near Sam and she so much as catches a whiff that you know who she is, she'll have that android break you in half with his bare hands! She’s likely the second most guarded teen of the solar system!"
Rebecca becomes interested "Really!? So she’s like… The Royal Family?"
"Worse. Those clowns on the Moon have fame to protect them. Sam is the opposite; total anonymity is her shield. The only flesh-and-blood people she regularly interacts with are her Mom, the few servants and bodyguards who aren't androids yet, and the boys she steals from the Farms. She's a ghost."
Becks seems genuinely taken aback "That's so sad... She must be lonely."
Ram shrugs "When you have that much money you can buy your way out of sadness. That's why tonight’s celebration is such a big deal. It’s security and logistics took months to organize. It's closer to a military operation than a thirteen-year-old's birthday party."
He takes another sip of his beer when a notification flickers inside his sunglasses. He taps Caro's hand.
"Speaking of which, a bot saw your twin back on the street. I'm sending you her location to that monstrous thing you use as a phone. Find her and stick to the plan, okay?"
Carolina nods and readies to leave when Ram slaps her forehead and waves her to sit back.
"Shit, wait! I almost forgot," he reaches inside his shirt pocket and produces a small plastic object. A peanut-shaped device with an USB port on the side. He hands it to her.
"Here. Once you're in Sam’s party hide this thing inside something she’ll take back home. Like her clothes, a bag, or one of her presents."
"Ah! O-okay... But what is it?"
He grins "It's how you'll pay for your side of our deal, remember? I’ll help you rescue Miguel, you'll help me destroy the 'pirates', as you call them."
"With a peanut?" mocks Rebecca.
He rolls his eyes "Kids these days... See that USB port? That's how people used to carry large chunks of information back in the day, before the blockchain. They called them 'flash drives' or something like that. It's the way you transport super-important documents you don't want traced. My hope is that when Sam finds this USB she'll assume its confidential information related to her Mom. Then she'll hand it to one of her servants who will plug it into the Farm's system without a thought.”
“So, it’s a virus then? But weren’t all viruses eradicated decades ago?”
“The correct term is malware. And no, viruses weren't eradicated, that’s propaganda. There will always be ways to convince a computer to do something it wasn’t meant to do. In our case, I left some zeroth days exploits in the Farm’s system for a day like this. Once my code is inside it will leak all information about sperm trafficking to the outside world. It will be quite a show."
"And will that be enough to take down the pirates?” asks Caro “Make them stop trafficking boys?"
Ram shrugs "It better be."
Carolina turns the cheap-looking plastic device in her hands. It looks like a key-chain or a toy for children, unable to harm anyone or anything.
"You promise...? I mean, what if Sam doesn’t notice it? What if they never plug it in? Or what if they fixed your exploits and your malware doesn’t work?"
He shrugs "Then I lost my chance for revenge, no biggie, I can try again. Only this time I'll do it from a hammock in Antarctica rather than a shitty bar in..." he looks around them "Whatever this place is..."
"But what if...!?"
He rolls his eyes "Look kiddo, no plans are perfect, things can always go south without a warning and I'm OK with that. You worry about rescuing prince charming. I'll worry about bringing the ‘pirates’ to the authorities, ok?"
He grabs his beer and empties the last of it. He stares at the Asian girl for a few seconds and takes his mirrored sunglasses off.
"Fascinating," he leans forward "You seem more interested in me getting revenge than on you rescuing your boyfriend…"
Caro doesn’t respond, her eyes locked on the peanut-shaped doomsday device in her hands.
“What's the point of rescuing Miguel if he's going to be afraid of going outside for the rest of his life? No boy should be afraid of these pirates. Someone should stop them," she clenches the flash drive "I want this to work. It HAS to work."
Ramesh nods, wheels turning inside his head.
But then he blinks and points at the empty chairs opposite of them.
"Hey, where's your friend?"
Carolina blinks too. She turns searching for Becks then stops when she sees Ram staring horrified at the street below.
"Oh no...!" she mutters and follows his line of sight.
They watch helpless as Rebecca strolls towards the comic book shop without a care in the world. The tote bag in one hand and the ice cream in the other.
Samantha's bodyguard doesn't react as the black girl approaches. He limits to opens the door for her and turns on his heels following her.
"Well, it went south. I'm out of here," says Ramesh taking his mirrored sunglasses off. She snaps them in half and throws them away "Good luck kiddo, it was fun while it lasted. Hope you find your boyfriend."
"Wh-WHAT!? You're LEAVING!?"
"Of course I’m leaving! Your friend is DEAD!” he stands up with some difficulty “And we'll be dead soon if we don't get the hell out of here. Bye!"
The preteen girl is in shock. She looks back and forth between the comic book shop and Ramesh limping away "W-wait! Mister! Maybe she'll be okay!?"
"Not staying to find out!"
"B-but what about our plan!? What about taking down the pirates!?"
"Don't know, don't care! I'm taking the boat by the way! We'll see how close I can get to Antarctica with that piece of junk," he yells before disappearing down the stairs.
A moment later he’s on the street hailing an autonomous taxi. Seconds later he’s inside the vehicle speeding away.
Caro remains frozen in place, unable to believe what happened. Was that it? Was it all over? It was all so sudden. Ramesh didn't even attempt to fix things. He gave up! And Rebecca? Why did she go straight to meet Sam? Was she suicidal? It didn't make sense!
A drone lands on the table to take away the empty Corona bottle, snapping her out of her stupor.
She looks down at her hand still clenching the peanut-shaped USB drive.
"This has to work," she mutters to herself, picks up her purse with the gun, and starts running.
The numbers on the red digital clock read 00:21:31:48.
The door swings open. Two Asian girls stumble inside the empty sex dungeon. The previous occupants having abandoned it in a rush.
"Shhh! I told you to keep quiet!" hisses Carolina closing the metal door. She unholster the 9mm pistol out of her handbag.
"Okay, okay! I said I'll do anything! J-just don't hurt me!" says Carly raising her palms.
"Shhh!" Caro looks around at the tacky decoration. Cheap BDSM gear, and ads for an AIDS vaccine playing on the many screens around them. She had heard about these strip-mall dungeons but had never been inside one. It’s even worse than she thought.
She heads to a small couch on the corner and turns her handbag upside down. Its contents spread everywhere.
"No cameras in here, right?"
Carly stares at her bulky smartphone phone who ended up laying face-down on the floor near her. The 'TASER' logo visible on the back.
"Right!?"
"Yes! I-I mean, n-no! No cameras! No bots! Just as I said!"
"Good," says the white-haired girl. She pauses "Is that... Ice cream?"
"Oh! Y-yeah...?"
"Thank God, I've been carving it all day!"
She opens the 1.5-quart container and shoves three fingers inside to take a wallop. Carly suppresses a yelp as her eleven-year-old twin eats it. She fails to notice the capsule-like objects embedded into the dessert.
"God... So good..." murmurs Carolina dropping her shoulders in delight.
The preteen waitress breathes in relief and glances at her phone mere two feet away. If she could only...
"W-what do you want? I have no money."
"I knuw," says Caro with her mouth full "We looked you up and you're drowning in debts. I can help you. But not now," she cleans her lips off and raises the pistol "Now, take off your clothes."
Carly takes a step back.
"W-what...?"
"You heard me. Come on! We don't have all day. You're supposed to get back to work soon, right?"
The twelve-year-old nods. Carolina lowers the weapon and removes her orange t-shirt, leaving her bare-chested.
Her counterpart doesn't move, too enraptured by the small breast buds of her younger twin. Did she look like that too?
Carolina throws garment away and rolls her eyes "Come on!"
"Oh! Yes! O-okay."
Carly unbuttons her white dress shirt with shaky fingers. Meanwhile, Caro removes her sandals, shorts, panties, and stands nude in front of her. The gun still pointed at her.
The whole situation is as surreal as it is vaguely erotic. Carly can't believe how wet she feels. She steals glances at her captor's smooth, uneven body., fascinated by her shaved vulva and developing curves. It's so weird watching her own body from afar!
"Throw your stuff over there," says Caro pointing at the couch with the gun.
Carly obeys while covering her growing breasts with an arm, her mind racing. It's clear by now this wasn’t because the boy sperm she stole as she first feared.
But then what? She was no one, a total stranger. One more girl between thousands grown from the same genotype, sold at a discount even! She hadn't even met one of her genetic twins but until today!
But more important, was she going to die a virgin?
"W-what are you going to do to me?" she says on the verge of tears, the gravity of the situation starting to dawn on her. She throws her shoes and black pants on the couch and stands only on her panties.
Caro seems to realize how upsetting this all is and lowers the gun.
"Hey! It's okay! I'm not going to hurt you. I need you to stay here while I take your place at the party tonight."
"W-what? You want to take my job…?" Carly lets out a snort, but it comes out more as a sob from her tears "Couldn't you just, I don't know, ask? I would've happily traded places with you."
Caro opens her mouth but closes it.
"Y-yeah, well. I didn't know you. Look, I'm figuring things out as I go along, ok? Now put these on," she throws the handcuffs at Carly's feet.
The young waitress obeys, her heart pounding at a thousand beats per minute, her face red. She follows Carolina's instructions fighting back tears and cuffs her wrists. Raises her arms to insert them in the remote-controlled hook hanging from the ceiling. She's now in pretty much the exact same position as she found herself less than an hour ago. Albeit, now with her underwear still on.
Relieved of having her hostage finally pinned in one place, Caro throws the gun on the couch. She rummages through the shelves on the walls until she finds a mouth gag.
Carly jolts "W-wait! Are you going to leave me like this?" she hurries to say, "My arms will get sore!"
"Ah! Uhm..." the white-haired girl looks around the messy room. She makes an apologetic shrug. "S-sorry, but I can't risk you getting away and letting the bots realize we switched. I'll make sure it's worth it, ok? I'll send you money to pay for your family's debts."
Carly grows desperate. She glances at the ice cream container on the couch. Then her eyes drift downwards at another object even closer by.
"N-no, you can't leave me like this! Please! At least let me sit down."
"I-I'm sorry. I really am. If it helps, I'm doing this for a good cause! I wish I could explain it, but it would take a long time."
The twelve-year-old waitress shakes her head to try and stop Caro from securing the mouth gag. She starts wailing when her younger twin slides her panties down. A cool breeze brushes against her most intimate place. She's again completely exposed and vulnerable. Despite herself, her levels of horniness are going through the roof.
"Sorry, I'm so sorry," repeats Caro taking the panties away. She tries not to stare too much at the soft, perfect vulva of the older girl, peach-like pubic hair crowning her lips.
"Teeeeveee! Mphfteeeveee!"
"Uh...?” Caro is about to step inside the panties when she sees Carly motioning at the screens with a foot “Ah! Yeah, you're right. It would be torture to leave you watching ads."
A quick search around the room leads her to the master remote control on the floor. She presses a button and white letters appear on all screens:
"RESUME VIDEO...?”
Caro clicks OK without thinking. The laughs of children fill the air.
Time seems to stop. Her body locks as if plugged to an electric socket. Her muscles shake uncontrollably, her breathing grows faster and faster, hyperventilating. Her eyes open wide, her face turning beet red.
"Ah shit! I'm cumming again!”
"Can't believe she's still tight!"
"Man, will we be able to keep doing this all day?"
"I'm getting hungry."
"Hey! Who hasn't cum inside her yet? Anyone?"
"Me! Let me through!" says the cameraman recording everything.
Carolina's heart skips a beat, her breathing stops. Her bulging eyes narrow as her panic attack gets momentarily replaced by an equally powerful mix of confusion and... Understanding.
"Whoa! Slow down!" says one boy at the nude bronze-skinned kid who took his turn between the legs of the ten-year-old girl. At this point she has stopped fighting and lays like a dead body "I know this is your first time Miguel but take it easy!"
"Uh, uh...!" murmurs the Hispanic boy as he frantically pumps in and out of the girl on the floor.
The screen freezes, Miguel's buttocks filling most of the image.
Caro's takes a step back, struggling to keep her balance. Her eyes sunken, lost somewhere far away, her expression blank. The remote control shaking in her hand.
"Mmmhhhg!" Carly murmurs in the renewed silence of the dungeon.
Caro turns and sees her twin about to grab a smartphone laying on the floor with the tip of her toe. Her naked body stretched to the extreme.
"Ah! Let me help you," says the shell-shocked eleven-year-old. She picks the device from the floor by mere instinct and stands in front of the tied preteen.
She frowns "Hey, I recognize this brand. I didn't know they made phon..."
She stops. She looks up and sees Carly staring back at her with fiery eyes, her breathing growing fast.
"MHGAAAAHH!" screams the older twin jumping high in the air. Her nude thighs grab Carolina's head and press her face against her moist pussy.
Both nude twins flail around, twisting and turning around the pivot point of Carly's wrists held high in place, wincing and screaming in muffled cries.
Unable to release herself from the ironclad grip of Carly's thighs, Caro changes strategy. She presses buttons of the TASER phone at random while bumping it against her back.
Carly realizes it’s a matter of time before her opponent finds the correct button. With a guttural scream, she twists her body and throws her younger self across the room. Carolina lands hard on the floor in a scorpion position. Her back bents backwards with her toes almost touching her head.
Sweating, Carly tiptoes in place and notices the remote control under her feet. She checks that Carolina is still on the floor and grabs the control between her bare feet. Then, with an animalistic growl, she bends her body upwards while hanging from the wrists. Trying to transfer the remote to her cuffed hands.
"Owwww...!" groans Caro untwisting her body until she's able to sit on her knees. She freezes and raises her palms "Hey... Let's calm down..."
Carly’s hand shakes as she points the gun at her former captor. The ice cream container held secure under her other arm.
"L-let's talk, okay?" continues Caro standing up "Listen. I just want to rescue my boyf..."
A metallic click.
A pause.
Another click, then another, growing impatient.
The eleven-year-old drops her shoulders "That sneaky son of a..."
As if reading each other's minds both tweens glance at the TASER phone laying on the floor between them.
High-pitched girl screams. Sound of naked bodies lurching forward and landing heavy on the floor. Skin rubbing against skin.
Kicks, muffled groans, sweat, heavy breathing and a few bites. Two pairs of legs and arms moving and rubbing against one another in a crazed frenzy for supremacy. Feet kicking and fists landing on all-too soft targets.
Finally, an electric buzz.
Silence.
The door of the comic book shop swings open. A cascade of ear-piercing shrieks come from inside the store. It sounds like someone being skinned alive.
The slim, bearded bodyguard emerges and holds the door open for the two young teens behind. Their chatter and laughter flows without a pause. A lively exchange between kindred spirits who might as well have known each other since birth. Frenzied exchange of thoughts, feelings and opinions on anything and everything. Unburdened by personal reservations or hidden truths.
Even more remarkable is how it happens despite the golden-plated helmet hiding Samantha's face. Yet thanks to its state-of-the-art speaker system, her voice is as loud and crisp as if she wore nothing at all.
The new friends keep talking and talking standing next to the store. Their teenage chat drawing disapproving stares from passing pedestrians. It makes Sam’s bodyguard uncomfortable. He elbows the girl during a lull of their conversation.
Samantha’s demeanor changes, as if remembering her role.
"Um, I'm afraid I got to go,” she says with a pained voice.
Rebecca gasps and clutches Samantha's hand, the last of her ice cream cone still on the other.
"Oh no! Already?"
"Yeah, I'm sorry, it's a busy day for me. But meeting you was tons of fun! Let's stay in touch, ok?"
"Absolutely! We have the new anime to binge watch," says Becks pointing at the small white book in Sam's hands.
"Yes! Definitely! Um… I wondered if… No, forget it, see ya!"
She turns and follows her bodyguard motioning her to hurry up. Rebecca smiles and waves her goodbye with the tote bag around her shoulder.
Sam looks back, hesitates, and after a brief glance at her android guardian turns on her heels and walks back. She reaches Rebecca and points at her with a sheepish smile, “Um! I was wondering...”
The black girl beams and nods. She extends her arm with the last piece of her ice cream.
“Oh! Yes, help yourself! I got so caught up I forgot to ask if you wanted any."
Sam babbles, taken aback by the offer. She looks around, shrugs, and presses a couple of buttons on her scarlet environmental suit.
The golden helmet hisses as cold air escapes from within. The orb fragments into dozens of modules who hover one over the other like a swarm of small critters. They slither into a compartment behind her neck. Underneath, the thirteen-year-old heir to one of the largest criminal empires on Earth.
Rebecca's eyes widen as she takes in Samantha's face. She's a stunning blonde girl with piercing blue eyes. Her hair goes down her shoulders, with a dusting of small freckles across an adorable button nose.
Sam grins, grabs the ice cream, and eats it in a single bite.
"Yum! You were right! It's so good!" she chuckles. "Um, and sorry for how I look. It’s stuffy in here" she waves at her lack of makeup and rough appearance.
Becks stammers, awestruck by the girl’s natural beauty "N-no problem."
Samantha grows serious. She fidgets with her fingers, working up her courage.
"Thanks for the ice cream but, that's not what I wanted to ask. Um... You got plans for tonight...?”
A smile dances across Rebecca's lips, growing more and more until it blooms into a huge grin. She shakes her head no.
Samantha smiles, a wistful and endearing expression that could soften nanocarbon-enriched steel. Becks knees meanwhile feel like pudding.
"Great! Um, you want to come over to my place and watch the King's speech? Perhaps stay the night?”
Rebecca blinks, momentarily puzzled.
"The speech? I thought today was your birthd-"
Almost immediately she catches her mistake and starts coughing. Sam doesn't notice but her android bodyguard does, his hand slips into his jacket.
“Sorry, it's the salt air. Y-yeah! Sounds cool. I would love to!" the black girl hurries to say.
Samantha's excitement bubbles over, her giddiness palpable. She senses her bodyguard moving closer and shoots him a killing glare.
"What's up with you? Calm down. It's just a sleepover. It’s not something I haven’t done before."
The man in the black suit takes a step back. His red sunglasses locked on the black girl, as if analyzing her every movement, no matter how small.
"Yay! Sleepover…!" says Rebecca holding Samantha's hands. Now and then throwing wary glances at the scary artificial man behind her.
"Yeah! Just the two of us! I have so much to show you!" Samantha beams, her enthusiasm contagious “Tonight’s going to be perfect!"
To be continued…
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