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Pact with The Devil


Pact with The Devil


December 29, 2001


To all technosexuals.

Legal Notices

This document contains frank discussions of a
sexually-explicit nature, and is intended for mature
audiences only.

The persons depicted in this story are entirely

Any similarities are completely coincidental.tres

References to actual places, companies, or
organizations are used strictly for artistic reference
to provide realism.

In other words, none of this is true.

This document should not be construed to provide any
relation between the author and such places or


This Copyright supercedes any previous Copyrights which
may be in existence prior to January 1, 2002.

Unless noted otherwise, all stories, articles, and
documents are Copyright (c) 2000 - 2001 by CyberCzar.
Stories, articles, and documents may not be
redistributed for profit or commercial gain. All
stories which are redistributed, must keep intact any
copyrights and notices, and must reference their author(s).

On January 1, 2072 at 12:01am, any and all stories,
articles, or documents which were previously
Copyrighted by CyberCzar, shall immediately go into the
public-domain. Hell, I'll be dead by then anyway. Even
if I'm not, I probably should be. ;-)

Most of the stories on this website contain frank
discussions of a sexually explicit nature. As such, it
is the downloader's responsibility to take reasonable
care and steps to ensure that the download or archiving
of these stories do not violate any local, state, or
federal laws and statutes. Under no circumstances
should these stories be viewed by minors.

All proper nouns appearing in the stories contained on
this website are fictional. Any resemblence to actual
persons, places, or organizations are purely coincidental.

No Microsoft product was used in the creation of these
stories or websites.

CyberCzar's Website is available at: http://www.asstr.org/


Ever have something that you've wished for greatly?
Ever prayed to God (or the Devil, for that matter) for
it to come true? Ever consider selling your soul to the
Devil if your wish came true?

Sure, we all have. At one point in our lives or
another. There was a movie back in the eighties called "Hunk"
where a geeky nerd sold his soul to the Devil to
become, well, a hunk. He got his wish all right, only
he wasn't prepared to deal with the consequences.

This story chronicles several years of a dying man's
life. He never (consciously) sold his soul to the
Devil. He was offered a deal that was just too good to
be true.

Problem is, most deals that are too good to be true
usually are.

First and foremost, this is an ASFR story, so there's
lots of talk about robots, androids, and other
mechanical devices. There's also a fair amount of sex.

I hope you enjoy.

The Diagnosis

"I've got the results back from your tests, Martin," the
doctor said, walking over to me. "You better sit down."

"What is it, Doc?" I asked, still standing.

"The cancer has spread. You've got maybe three to six
months left. I'm sorry."

I stood there in his office, shocked. After all the
chemo and radiation, I thought I was finally getting
rid of this curse. As it turns out, it was finally
getting rid of me.

"Thank you for your help," I said to him after a few
minutes. "I think I have to get some things in order."

"I'll be here if you need me," he said as I walked out of
his office.

As I left, I turned to walk down the street to the
subway station to head home. My eyes made contact with
a peddler sitting next to a building.

"Excuse me, mister," he said as I walked past. "Can you
spare some change for some soup?"

I stopped and turned around to look at him. "I don't
have any change, I'm sorry," I told him.

"That's ok, buddy. Thanks for at least acknowledging my existence,"
he replied.

I paused for a second. "I said I didn't have any change,
I never said I didn't have any money."

I opened my wallet. I had about $\$400$ in $\$50$s and $\$20$s. I reached
in, and handed him all the money.He accepted the money,
with the most solemn look of gratitude I've ever seen
on a man. "But," he said.

"No buts." I said. "Tonight you won't be sleeping on the
street and you won't be going to bed hungry."

He started to break down and cry. "Thank you," he said. "
There is a God."

"Trust me," I said angrily; "there is no God."

I continued on my way. A little while later, I realized
that I had just given the bum all my money so I had
none for myself to hail a cab or buy a subway token. I
continued on down the street until I came upon a park
on the other side.

I walked across the street and sat down at one of the
benches, reflecting on my life and what little meaning
it had.

I was an advertising executive, coming up with bold and
brand new ideas to sell Viagara, and new cars. I came
up with new ways everyday for the masses to spend more
of their money to further inflate their egos and
perpetuate the capitalistic lifestyle this nation was
so proud to embrace.

None of this seemed important now, though.

I just sat and watched life pass me by. A couple was
taking their newborn out for a stroll. Several men and
women jogged by. Some kids were playing soccer in the
field behind me. An old woman sat down beside me to
feed the pigeons.

"Hello," she said.


"I saw what you did back there," she said, breaking off
pieces of bread for the birds.


"The money you gave that man."

"Well, I don't have any more," I said, turning away from here.

"I don't want your money, Martin."

I was startled that she knew my name. "Who are you?" I asked.

"A friend." she said. "I also know you're dying."

"How do you know that!" I snapped at her. "No wait, never
mind. Leave me alone!" I yelled, getting up to walk away.

"I can help you," she yelled towards me.

I paused and turned around to face her. "How?"

"Let's go back to your place," she said. I was nervous,
and didn't know what to do; but what could I lose?

Slowly we walked back to my flat. She must be at least
80 years old since her gait was short and slightly off-balance.

About 30 minutes later, we made it to my apartment and
I let her in. I set me keys down on the table next to
the door. "Can I get you something to drink?" I asked.

"No, but I would like to use your bathroom," she said.

"In my bedroom at the end of the hall."

I walked into the kitchen and fixed myself a shot of
bourbon. I was just finishing it off when she appeared
out of my bedroom.

The old woman I escorted home was not old anymore! She
was gorgeous! In fact, she looked like she was only
about 20 or so. She had long, flowing, black hair;
firm, supple breasts, and a perfect figure.

"Who are you?" I asked, setting my glass down. "What's
going on?"

"Your guardian angel," she replied, walking over to me. "
I'm here to take away your worries."I stepped back,
scared. "The doctor said I had at least 3 months!"

"No, silly. Not that," she said with a smile. "I said I
was your guardian angel, not the Grim Reaper."

"But how? How can you help me?" I asked.

"By giving you eternal life." she said.

"I don't believe you," I said; pouring another shot.

"Think about it, Martin! You'll never die!"

Quickly I finished my second shot and walked into the
living room and sat down on the couch. I felt weak and scared.

She followed and sat down across from me in my chair.

"No disease," she said. "You'll never get sick again."

"What do I need to do?" I asked. "What do you want in return?"

"That's the easy part," she replied. "All you need to do
is every century, convince your love to join me. It's simple!"

"But how will you make me eternal?"

"By giving you what will give you everlasting life," she
said. "By turning you into an android."

She snapped her fingers, and out of thin air, a figure
appeared in the middle of the room. It was a male
figure. a little bit taller than me, and it had a much
better looking body.

"Who's that?" I asked.

"That's soon to be you," she replied. "If, if you agree to
the terms."

She handed me a simple contract which I read. Just as
she said, the contract stated that I would receive
eternal life if I offered to her my true love each and
every century.

"I think I can handle this." I said. "Let me get a pen."

"I've got one," she said, handing me a strange looking
pen. I looked like a syringe at the top, and had a
metal quill-tip at the bottom. She unscrewed the bottom
half of the pen when held a needle within, and stuck it
in my arm and drew blood. She then screwed the lower
half back on and handed it to me.

I signed the contract which burst into flames as I
lifted the pen up finishing my signature.

"Are you ready?" she asked me.

"Not quite," I said. "I'd like to make some adjustments to
this person if I'm going to be occupying its body for
all of eternity."

"Understandable." she said.

I got up and faced the figure, and proceeded to remove
the shirt it was wearing.

"I can take care of that for you," she said. She snapped
her fingers and the figure's clothes were immediately
gone. It stood naked in my living room.

"Let's start with the hair," I said. "I always wanted to
be blonde. With another snap of her fingers, the
figure's hair became blond.

"Give it a little body, a slight waviness to it," I
commanded. Again, she snapped her fingers and the hair
had some body to it.

"The eyes, could you make them blue?" I asked. She
snapped again, and they were.

I continued, asking her to make the cheekbones a little
more pronounced, a cleft in the chin, a more defined
jaw-line. At my request, she made the shoulders a
little more broad and the chest a little more
pronounced. She made him 6'2" tall, made his waist just
a little more narrow, and gave him a little more prowess.

"Are you done, now?" she asked, impatient.

"He's too pale," I said. "Make his skin tone just a little
darker, and remove the hair from his chest, and
stomach, and that will be it."

"Good enough to fuck, isn't he?" I said after watching
the transformation.

"Yes he is," she said with a grin, rubbing her hands all
over his body. "You've got good tastes."

With one last snap, I started to feel extremely dizzy,
and felt a darkness all around me. When I opened my
eyes, I was facing the wall.

"What happened to me?" I heard myself say, but it wasn't
my voice.

"Welcome to your new self," I could hear the woman say
behind me. As I turned to see what was going on, I
could see myself laying on the floor.

"What happened to me?" I asked.

"You're dead; or rather your old self is."

I knelt down to look at the lifeless body which once
held my soul.

"Enough!" the woman yelled. "I've taken too much time
already. Before I go, some last minute business."

I stood up and faced her.

"First, some clothes," she said, snapping her fingers.
Immediately, I was dressed in a black Armani suit.

"Next, some money," she continued, handing me a leather
wallet. "There's $\$5000$ cash in there, along with
identification, platinum credit cards, and instructions
on how to access a Swiss bank account, in your name,
with a $\$25$ million balance. Don't spend it all in one place."

She also handed him a cell-phone. "This is a special phone,"
she said. "It doesn't talk to me directly, but by you
talking into it; you'll be able to change yourself.
After all, you'll probably grow tired of your body
after a few hundred years."

"Last but not least, you need the mark." she said. Again,
she snapped her fingers, and I could feel something
extremely hot pressing onto my left shoulder.

"Ow!" I yelled, quickly tearing off the jacket and shirt.
I ran into the bedroom to look into the mirror where I
saw the brand; six triangles, and four lines, forming
an upside-down cross within a box, about 2" tall.

"But," I said, getting my shirt and jacket back on.

"No buts, I'll see you in a hundred years."

Just like that, she vanished in a puff of smoke.

I sat down in the chair and contemplated my position.
What was I going to do now? I was dead; or rather
everyone will soon think I was dead.

I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out my new
wallet. The driver's license said, "Michael Briggs."

I was just about ready to leave before I realized there
was one thing I wanted before I left. I walked back
over to my now dead body, gently rolled it over, and
pulled out the wallet. Inside was a picture of my
mother. I took it, and placed it in my shirt pocket,
and walked out the door.

"Hello Mrs. Quinones," I said to the woman standing in
the hall before realizing what I had done, then quickly
walked out of the building.

What was I going to do?

Then I remembered the woman telling me she had given me
money, so I set out to find an apartment.

I walked for sometime and made my way into the
'Village. I never ventured down here that much. My life
was filled with deadlines, meetings, and new customer
prospects. Here, most were carefree and truly enjoying life.

I walked up to a street market and was glancing over
the produce, contemplating what I had just agreed to
when I heard a voice.

"New around here?" the young man said.

"Yeah, you could say that," I said.

"My name's Paul, what's yours?" he said, extending his
hand for a shake.

"Mar... uh, Michael . Michael Briggs."

"Well, Michael Briggs, do you have a place to stay?"

"Well, actually I don't," I answered.

"Then it's settled," he said jubilantly.

"What is?"

"You'll be staying with me!" he exclaimed with a huge
grin on his face. "Come on," he said, taking the fruit
out of my hand and setting it down as he guided me away
from the stand.

We walked about two blocks to his apartment building
which appeared to be an old warehouse. I followed him
into the freight elevator as he moved the lever forward
lifting us up to the second level. Paul then lifted the
gates which swung up revealing a huge studio apartment.

"Can I offer you something to drink?" he asked.

"No thanks, I'm not thirsty."

As he walked into his kitchen, I made my way to the
center of the flat and looked around. Scattered
throughout, there were canvases and easels. Some of the
paintings were unfinished, but for the most part there
were stacks and stacks of portraits, drawings, and
still-lifes. As I examined the paintings more
thoroughly, a common theme began to emerge. Each
painting had a familiar character; a central point of
focus, and that character looked remarkably like my new self!

"Interesting subject," I said out loud. "Who is he?"

He walked over to me, drink still in hand. "I think it's you,"
he said.

I quickly turned to look at him. How could this be me?

We walked over to the futon in his 'living room' and
sat down. Paul explained that about two years ago, he
got a strange dream. The main subject of his dream
looked exactly like me. Several weeks passed as he
tried to get the image of me out of his thoughts and
dreams when he succumbed to his own subconscious and
started painting the scenes from his dreams.

"So you see, when I saw you at the fruit-stand," he said
quietly, "somehow I knew all this would make sense; if
not now, then eventually."

"Look, Paul," I said trying to sound comforting.

"I don't think this is such a good idea."

"Please," he said genuinely. "I'll let you live here, rent
free. Just let me paint you."

I thought about this for what probably seemed an
eternity when I realized that I had an eternity myself.

"Okay," I said reluctantly.

"Excellent!" he said, coming over to give me a hug. "I've
been looking for you for the past two years!"

"When do we begin?" I asked, squirming to get away from
his hug.

"Now, if it's okay with you." he said.

I stood up, and raised my hands to shrug. "Sure, why not."

"Come over," Paul said, walking over to a window. There
was a stool, and canvas set on an easel. "Would you mind
taking off your clothes?"

"God, you know, I don't know," I said. I was feeling a
little apprehensive.

"It's not like I haven't seen you naked before," he said. "
You've only been filling my dreams for the past two years.

Reluctantly I took my clothes off and stood there naked
in front of him.

"Remarkable," he said gazing at my naked self. "You're
even more beautiful in person." Next, he positioned me
on the stool, my feet apart, set on the rungs below,
and sat behind the canvas.

I stayed like this for hours, but I wasn't growing
tired. Through the night, Paul just painted. Stroke
after stroke, his brush met the canvas with fury.

Several hours later, I found my mind wandering,
remembering my past; my life, my relationships, my
loves, my family.

I tried remembering as far back as I could. Images of
me as a baby filled my head. My parents, holding me,
loving me.

I tried to remember back further when I felt extremely
scared. Darkness surrounded me. Pain, and pressure. All
of a sudden bright lights, strange noises. Screaming. I
had remembered my birth.

I tried to remember back even farther. Bliss. Calm.
Serenity. I was remembering my tiny, still undeveloped
fetus still growing in my mother's womb.

Dawn broke above the city, and it's morning rays cast
through the windows behind me.

"My god, I didn't realize the time," Paul said from
behind the canvas. "Are you tired? Would you like something?"

"No, I'm fine," I said.

"Well, I think it's done," he said. "Would you like to
take a look?"

I walked over to the canvas and gazed upon the image. "
It's beautiful," I said as I looked at myself.

"No, you're beautiful."

Paul left the room to take a shower; I got dressed and
walked over to the living room and flipped on the TV.

The morning news was on and the lead story was about
me, or rather my old self.

"Metropolitan prominent advertising executive, Martin
Phillips was found dead in his apartment this morning."
the anchorwoman said. "Martin is best known for his work
on the Atlantis Condom campaign which successfully
bridged the public policy against sex-education in the schools."

I flipped the channel to watch something else.Some time
later Paul emerged from the shower naked, his hair
still dripping.

Paul was a very handsome man, with a swimmer's build,
and overall very proportioned. He walked into his
kitchen, still naked, and toasted a bagel.

"Are you sure I can't fix you anything," he asked.

"I really am fine, thank you," I said.

He finished spreading some cream cheese on his bagel
and came into the living room with me. "I'd like to do
another nude if you don't mind," he asked.

"Uh, sure," I said.

We chatted for a few minutes as he finished off his
bagel then he got up and motioned for me to follow him.
I stood next to the bare easel as he got a two-foot
high pedestal.

"Please, get on," he said. I disrobed, again, and stepped
up onto the pedestal.

I could feel him breathing on me as he gently
positioned me. His warm breath on my skin was beginning
to turn me on. Carefully, he moved my arms and bended
my knee into a stance he thought was right. He didn't
say anything at the growing erection forming between my
legs, either.

Just as before, he sat back behind his canvas, peeking
out from behind every few seconds or so. A couple of
hours later, he got up.

"Well, it's done," he said; "and you've got some mighty
libido there, mister."

I hadn't noticed as my mind wandered again, thinking
about how I was going to be spending the rest of
eternity, but I had kept my erection throughout the
entire painting marathon.

"It doesn't seem to want to go down," I said with a
nervous chuckle.

I walked behind the canvass to see just about the whole
area filled with a painting of my erect cock and balls.

"I couldn't resist," he said. "It's like your cock was
calling out to me."

Seeing my cock transformed into an image of oil and
pigment made me even more horny than I already was.

"Here, let me take care of that for you," Paul whispered
in my ear.

I had never had sex with a man before. In fact, these
lustful feelings I have been experiencing for Paul were
all new to me.

Paul took me by my hand and gently led me to his bed
where I layed down on my back. He gently pulled my legs
toward him so that they were dangling off the edge.
Next, he knelt down in front of me and started.

With great passion he brought me to an immense climax
soon thereafter. I hadn't experienced an orgasm as
strong as that which he brought upon me. While in a
state of orgasmic bliss, I wondered if it was because
of the forbidden way which I climaxed, my new body, or both.

He finished licking and devouring the remnants of my
juices when he climbed on the bed to lay next to me.

"Now it's your turn," he told me with a grin on his face.

"But," I said hesitantly. "I've never..."

"Use your instinct," he said with a whisper.

I began to reciprocate what Paul had done to me just
moments ago. As his cock entered my mouth, I felt a
wave of forbidden passion flow through my entire body.

Paul was right; it was instinctful. Lost, primal urges.
It seemed natural. Then again, sex was natural.

I soon brought him to orgasm and he spewed his juices
in my mouth. They tasted nothing like I expected. The
scariest thought to me was that I think I could get
used to this.

He went into the bathroom to get clean. When he
emerged, I followed suit, grabbing a clean washcloth
from the linen pantry behind the door. As I stepped out
after washing myself, Paul was talking to a woman in
the living room.

"It's true!" she exclaimed when she saw me. "I didn't
believe you existed."

"Michael, I'd like you to meet Jenna. Jenna's my sister."

"Uh, excuse me," I said quite embarrassed as I ran into
the bathroom to put on a towel. As I emerged, she and
Paul were staring at his latest work; the rather large
painting of my cock and balls.

"You've got to show this," she told him. "You've got to
show these all."

"I don't know," Paul said. "I'm not sure if I'm ready yet." "
Show what?" I interrupted.

"Well, you," she said smiling. "Or rather, the paintings
of you."

"Oh," I said softly.

"Would you mind?" Paul asked.

"Well, do you think they're appropriate for the public?"
I asked.

"It's art," Jenna said exuberantly. "And in the flesh or
in oil, you are a work of art."

"Well, ok," I said reluctantly.

The Showing

Jenna had successfully persuaded both he and Paul to
show the paintings. Acting as Paul's agent, Jenna
arranged a showing for that weekend at the Metropolitan
Underground Art Gallery.

Paul and Michael stayed busy for the weeks prior to the
showing; each-other contributing their part to the vast
array of artwork produced.

Paul had acquired a new-found vigor in his paintings,
choosing to paint Michael in a variety of styles and
positions. All the paintings had one single theme
however, they all pictured Michael as the central
character; and they all pictured him nude.

That Friday, a truck from the gallery came to pick up
Paul's work. Paul supervised the workers loading the
paintings onto the truck and he and Michael followed it
to the location.

Jenna was standing on the back loading dock smoking a
cigarette with the gallery's owner, Patrick Haas.

Michael followed Paul out of his car and walked over.

"This must be Michael," said Patrick, reaching out to
shake Michael's hand. "Come, come inside for a cappucino."

They all made their way inside to the main gallery
where preparations were taking place for the next day's showing.

They all sat at the bar with Patrick tending to the
offerings as workers brought the 50 or so paintings inside.

"My Lord," Patrick said as he caught a glimpse of one of
the nudes. He set down his coffee and walked over the
painting leaning up against the wall. "Exquisite," he
exclaimed, holding it up to the light.

The nude he was admiring so much was the one of
Michael, standing like Michaelangelo's David, fully erect.

"Come," he said, clapping his hands together after
setting the painting down. "We must get ready for
tomorrow's show!"

He, Paul, and Jenna, worked feverously into the night
hanging the paintings and setting the lights. Dawn
broke and they were all passed out on the floor, or
against the wall, exhausted.

Michael had decided to go to the donut shop across the
street to grab everyone some donuts, bagels, and
coffee. When he walked back into the gallery, the noise
of the door chime woke everybody up.

"Ah, glad to see you're awake," he said sarcastically. "
Breakfast is here."

He set everything out on the bar and leaned back
against the wall while everyone ate.

"Michael," Paul said. "Have something to eat."

"I'm not hungry, thank you." he replied.

"You're very curious," he said, setting his donut down. "
In the three weeks you've been staying with me, I've
yet to notice you eat, sleep, or go to the bathroom
other than to shower."

"You've got some peculiar habits of your own," he
replied, trying to draw the conversation subject away
from him.

"Yes, Paul," Jenna interjected. "Leave him alone."

"Mr. Briggs, will you be joining us this evening?"
Patrick asked.

"You'll have to," Paul said. "You're the star of the show."

"I guess I don't have much of a choice then, do I?" he asked.

With great exuberance, the group responded in unison, "No!"

Michael stepped away and took one last look at the
paintings throughout the gallery. After examining all
the pieces, he walked back to the group and told them
he was going to back to Paul's apartment to rest.

"I'll drive you," Jenna said jumping up.

"It's okay, really," he replied.

"I insist," she said with a grin on her face clutching
her arm around his as she escorted him to the back of
the gallery.

"He's quite a catch," Patrick said to Paul, as Jenna and
Michael left the room. "Does his cock really look like
what you've portrayed in your paintings?"

"Even better in person," Paul giggled as he responded. "
He's quite unusual, though."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, I was serious when I brought up the fact that
I've never noticed him eat or sleep," he said. "And about
two weeks ago, I forced myself to stay up for two
straight days working on the largest piece and not once
did he get up to go to the bathroom. I never saw him
need anything to drink, either."

"That is strange," said Patrick, agreeing with him.

Later, while Jenna was driving them back to Paul's
apartment, she was trying to get to know Michael a
little better.

"Where are you from, Michael?" she asked.

"I'm originally from Arizona, but I recently moved here
about a month ago." he said.

"Is that when you met Paul?"

"Yes," he replied. "He's very nice."

They made their way back to Paul's apartment. Jenna
followed him upstairs. When he lifted the gates to the
elevator he was struck with how barren Paul's apartment
now looked without any paintings or canvases laying about.

"Thanks for the ride, I think I'm going to lay down for
a few," he told her.

"Ok, I'm just going to use the phone," she said.

Michael walked over to the bed, layed down, and closed
his eyes. He wasn't tired; in fact he no longer needed
sleep of any kind, but he wanted to be alone and
figured this was the best way to make it happen.

Across the room he heard Jenna hang up the phone. He
was expecting to hear the doors to the elevator open
signaling her leave when he felt someone get on the bed
next to him.

"Jenna?" he said, opening his eyes.

"I heard you don't need any sleep," she replied with an
evil grin.

"Uh," he replied nervously. "I do, and I'm tired."

She positioned herself so she was on top of his legs
restricting his movements.

"Are you sure?" she asked sarcastically, running her
fingers up his legs to his crotch.

The touch of her hands on his flesh and through the
fabric of his shorts was starting to really turn him on.

Beneath his shorts, his cock was starting to grow,
yearning to be freed from its confines.

"Uh..." he said again.

Jenna then proceeded to unbutton and unzip Michael's
fly. His cock sprang up at attention, trying to force
its way through the remaining barrier, his boxers.

"My you're a mysterious man, Michael Briggs." she said
with another giggle.

Michael layed on his back, his hands at rest by his
hips, as Jenna proceeded to remove his shorts and
boxers. His cock was now pushing firmly against his
abdomen; its head resting up just past his navel.

She didn't say anything as she grasped his uncut cock
in her hands and gently slid it inside her. She then
let out screams of ecstasy and excitement as she took
him for a ride; his essence brought upon wave after
wave of orgasmic pleasure with each thrust. This left
her spent and exhausted as she collapsed on top of him,
wrapping her arms around his chest.

"Fucking unbelievable," she whispered to him. "Thank you."

After she got dressed and left, Michael went into the
bathroom to take a shower.

After finishing with his shower, he relegated himself
into the living room to read a book. "War and Peace," he
said outloud. "Guess I have an eternity to read this now."

Sometime later, Paul came home; without saying a word
he walked over to the bed and collapsed out of pure exhaustion.

Michael had finished about half of the book when Paul
woke up about 7 hours later, took a shower, and got
ready for the evening.

The two headed for the gallery around 5pm. Paul was
dressed in a white pirate short with black leather
jeans while Michael decided to wear jeans and a t-shirt.

When they arrived at the gallery, Jenna, Patrick, and
the caterers were already there getting ready for the
evening's festivities.

The first guests arrived about an hour later and
Michael excused himself to the back office where he
proceeded to get undressed and put on a long robe.
Patrick had convinced him to wear only the robe when
they arrived earlier. The plan was to be that Michael
would come out during the apex of the showing, disrobe
so everyone could see what he looked like in person,
and circulate through the gallery naked for the rest of
the evening. He agreed to this because Patrick
convinced him it would help sell the paintings.

He could see through the security cameras in the back
office that things looked like they were going pretty
well. About 100 people showed up for the first night,
which was by invitation only. Many of the elite were
here admiring Paul's work.

He was reading an issue of Smithsonian in his robe when
Patrick came into the back office to check on him.

"How are you doing," Patrick asked.

"Very good. Things look like they're going well out there."
he said.

"Are you ready for your debut?"

"As I'll ever be, I guess."

Patrick winked at him as he turned around to walk back out.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, may I have your attention please."
he said to the crowd, which hushed rather quickly and
turned to face him. "I'd like to introduce you to the
subject of all these works, a masterpiece of art both
on canvas and in person; please allow me this great
honor of introducing to you Michael Briggs!"

Michael walked out from the back office in his robe and
stepped up to the platform which was built earlier that
day. He then turned around so his back was facing the
crowd, and let the robe fall to his feet.

"What an ass," a patron whispered to his partner as his
fell upon the naked man.

As he turned around to face his audience, a roar of
cheers and applause reverberated throughout the gallery.

"What I wouldn't give to spend an evening with him," a
woman whispered under her breath.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is Michael Briggs," Patrick
said; as more clapping followed.

Michael got off the stage and began circulating through
the crowd, introducing himself and meeting everyone in

Sales of Paul's paintings were happening at a frenzied
pace! The 36" x 48" painting of Michael's erect cock, and
balls, was turning into a semi-auction between three
potential buyers.

"$\$15,000$," one man said.

"$\$17,000$," said a woman.

"$\$25,000$," said another man.

Michael walked over to see what the commotion was about.

"Isn't it great, Michael," Paul said, clutching his arm.

"Wonderful," he replied. "If you'll excuse me gentlemen
.... madam, I've got some more mingling to do."

He left to circulate back through the crowd when he was
stopped by a rather tall man with a goatee.

"Hello, Michael," the man said. "My name is Augustus
Ramsey; have you ever been interested in making movies?"

"I'm not sure I know what you mean," Michael replied.

The two chatted for a while where he learned that
Augustus was a porno director. Augustus wanted to make
Michael the next John Holmes.

"Sounds interesting," Michael said to him. The fact was,
just talking about the possibility was getting him
visibly turned on and before he knew it, he was
standing in front of Augustus, holding his cappucino,
with a raging hard-on.

"Come with me, back to L.A." he insisted.

He agreed, and the two men walked out the door.

Los Angeles

"You look troubled," Augustus said to Michael as they
were flying west to L.A.

"I'm worried about Paul," he said.

"Don't be!" Augustus exclaimed. "Your 'showing' netted
Paul roughly $\$10million$ for all the paintings he sold. He's set
for life."

"Really?" Michael said.

"You're very popular."

They arrived in Los Angeles several hours later.
Augustus drove Michael to an apartment complex on
Melrose Place and showed him where he'd be staying.

It was a bungalow-style apartment. There were 12
apartments, each opening up to a central pool. The
front was gated, and it seemed pretty secure.

"Welcome to 1969 Melrose Place," he said, escorting
Michael into his apartment.

"It's gorgeous!" Michael said, turning to look around. "Do
you own all this?"

"Yes," he said. "This is where all my stars live. It also
dubs as a convenient set."

"How many people live here," he asked.

"You're number 12. We've got 7 girls, and you make the
5th guy."

Michael walked through the apartment, checking things
out. His was furnished quite contemporary; with a black
leather couch, lots of black mica with chrome trim furniture.

"I noticed there's no locks on the door," he said to Augustus.

Augustus brought Michael's bag into his bedroom.

"Yes, it's designed that way. There's adequate security
with the front gate."

He also couldn't help but notice there were remote
controlled video cameras all throughout the compound,
and inside the apartment.

"What's with all the cameras?"

"Like I said," Augustus replied, "this doubles as a set,
too. The surveillance cameras are primarily for your
safety, but they're also broadcasted live on our website."

"So people can see everything that goes on in here?"

"Absolutely, and people are watching as we speak.
Although, they can't hear us."

"Cool," he said.

"Well, I'll leave you to get situated." Augustus said. "
I'll see you at 10am on Monday for your first shoot."

"Bye," he replied; as he closed the door behind him
leaving Michael's new apartment.

Michael went into the bedroom and started to unpack his
clothes and put them away.

Several minutes later, he heard the front door open and
light footsteps coming towards him.

When he turned around to accost the stranger who had
just entered, his eyes fell upon a rather voluptuous
redhead, standing naked in his doorway.

"You won't be needing a lot of those," she said.

"Excuse me?" he replied.

"Clothes. You won't be needing a lot of clothes." she
replied, walking into the room.

"I'm Trixie, by the way."

Michael set one of his sports coats down on his bed and
turned to face her.

"We've heard an awful lot about you," she said; running
her fingers down his chest.

"Nice to meet you."

"I'm your welcome wagon." she continued, running her
fingers through his hair.

Without warning, Trixie leaned forward and took
Michael's head in her hands. Forcing her tongue into
his mouth, her hands traversed down the android's body,
gently undoing the clasp of his jeans.

Michael wasn't wearing any underwear, which was just
fine for Trixie as she nudged her way into his pants.
Her small hands grasped the artificial member yearning
to escape its confines.

Slowly it growed, responding to the sights and smells
of her which were filling Michael's senses. She knelt
down in front of him, slowly pulling his pants down,
releasing his shaft from its denim jail.

Trixie caught a glimpse of Michael's 11 inches for the
first time. "Mmm," she cried out.


Without wasting any time, Trixie went down on him,
taking in his entire organ; slowly at first, but
eventually succeeding.

Michael was eventually brought to orgasm; and with
several powerful actions, thrust his juices -- made
with artificial and natural flavors -- inside her
mouth, the contents spilling from her lips very slightly.

"Delicious," she said, ingesting the last of it.

"You're going to be a star."

Trixie was one of Augustus' starlets who found her
hooking the streets when she was just 17. He gave her a
place to stay, got her boobs fixed, and gave her a job.
That was 8 years ago, and now Trixie is one of
Augustus' most popular featurettes in his films.

Orgasm Entertainments is one of Hollywood's most
successful adult media production and distribution
companies and caters to all lifestyles.

Trixie spent the night at Michael's apartment that
evening, but the two didn't get much sleep. For hours,
the two's trysts went on endlessly. One after another,
throughout the night he brought her to orgasm as they
tried just about every position in the Karma Sutra.
When dawn broke, she was exhausted, asleep on his chest.

She must have been having an intense dream; as he
looked down upon her, he could see her masturbating
herself under the sheets.

She awoke several minutes later to find herself still
resting on his chest. She didn't say anything, or open
her eyes as she let her hands wander over to his
thighs. Michael thought she was still asleep and didn't
say anything for fear of waking her.

Slowly she caressed his leg and thighs, moving her
fingers farther up towards his waist with each stroke.
When she reached his shaft and balls, she was
pleasantly surprised to find him again, hard as a rock,
and ready for more action.

She grabbed the top of his shaft with her right hand
and slowly begin to jerk him off. Not wanting to stain
the sheets with another eruption, and thinking she was
still dreaming, He let her do this for as long as she wanted.

Twenty minutes had passed, and Trixie was beginning to
get frustrated. Faster and faster she stroked him,
hoping to find a warm eruption would soon follow. When
it didn't, she altered her rhythms and played more with
the head of his cock.

"Aren't you going to cum," she said, quite disappointed.

"You're awake!" he cried out.

"I have been," she exclaimed, sitting up to look at him. "
I've been trying to jerk you off for the past 20
minutes or so."

"I, I thought you were still asleep. Dreaming."

He reached down and kissed her on her forehead. "But if
you want me to cum, I can do it right now," he said
afterwards; and without warning spewed his juices all
over her.

"Oh my God," she cried out, fingering up the juices which
had fallen on her and him. "You've got some amazing control!"

He went into the bathroom to take a shower.

Trixie followed soon after and joined him.

The two faced each-other, letting the jets of water
flow into every nook and cranny of their bodies.
Michael picked up the bar of soap and ran it all across
Trixie's neck, breasts, and stomach.

He paid careful attention to her breasts, kneading them
gently in his hands. Massaging them. Caressing them.

When he finished washing the front of her, she took the
soap from him and began washing him.

Slowly she ran her fingers over his chest, feeling the
sharp ridges of his seemingly defined pecs. Further
down she went, gently caressing the nodules of his
abdominals. She continued further, cupping his balls in
her hand while she washed them and his shaft. She
couldn't resist milking his long, soft shaft as she
gently pulled back it skin to pay special attention to
his glans.

All this was getting Michael excited again, and slowly
his member was getting long and firm right beneath her
fingers. She wasn't about to let him get off just yet;
before she had a chance to wipe his ass.

Next, she rolled the soap in her palm creating a thick
lather as she reached under him with her soapy fingers,
paying careful attention to his anus. Gently she
inserted two of her slippery fingers into his anus,
getting them clean.

This startled him since he's never had anyone play with
his anus like this before. Without warning, he couldn't
resist coming at that very moment as he spewed himself
right into her face.

"Oh my God," he said apologetically. "I'm so sorry!"

Laughing, Trixie stood back up, wiping the artificial
semen from her eyes. "Guess we know what turns you on,
you kinky pervert." she said as she moved her face under
the water to wash her face off.

They both left the shower as soon as she had cleaned
her face.

Michael walked into his bedroom to put some clothes on
after drying off when he noticed Trixie leaving.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his towel still around
his waist.

"I'm going to go lay out by the pool," she said. "Wanna
join me?"

"But you have no clothes on."

"Honey, at Melrose Place clothing is practically prohibited."

He followed her outside to the pool where Jeff, Kyle,
Alex, Roxy, and Christy were already catching some rays.

"Hey guys," said Trixie. "I'd like you to meet Matthew."

"Michael," he said.

"Michael? I thought it was Matthew." she said.Jeff and
Christy chuckled at the societal faux pas Trixie had
made, and the trench she was digging deeper and deeper.

"Anyway," she said; "He's Augustus' new prodigy. And a
great fuck, I might add."

"Well pull up a seat, darling," Roxy said. "Take your
towel off and enjoy the rays."

He dragged a chaise closer to them and took off his
towel to lay down on the lounge.

"Whoa there, honey," Roxy said when she caught a glimpse
of his member.

"Good God," said Alex noticing his prowess as well. "I've
died and gone to Heaven."

"Turn around for us," Christy said. "Let's get a good look
at you."

Michael smiled and posed for the five sunbathing out by
the pool.

"That thing is not going to fit inside of me," exclaimed Roxy.

"It's not that bad," Trixie said. "He's actually very gentle!"
she finished, giggling. "Plus, he comes on command," she added.

He laid down on the lounge chair at this point and was
watched a flock of birds fly through the sky.

"Are you a top or a bottom," asked Kyle."Excuse me?"

"Do you like to fuck or be fucked," Trixie interpreted.

He thought about his answer for a moment. "I like sex, period,"
he said.

The Pool

"Well, how 'bout us sampling the goods before we all go
into work on Monday?" suggested Alex, walking over to
him with a wry smile on his face.

"Sounds good to me!" said Michael as he reached up and
gently grabbed his balls.

Alex's grin never left him as he climbed up onto the
lounge and thrust his throbbing cock into Michael's
mouth. Not wanting to miss out on any of the action,
Kyle walked up behind them and stuck his cock into Alex's.

"Why should the boys have all the fun?" quipped Roxy as
she climbed onto the lounge, sticking Michael's now
fully engorged cock in her pussy. "Oooh!" she cried out
as it filled her up inside.

Meanwhile, upstairs; next to Michael, was Brad's
apartment. He had the reputation of the biggest cock in
the industry. A full 13 inches uncut, and about 6
inches around at the base.

He was actually bred this way. His great, great, great,
grandfather was a legend back in the late 18th century
in Tennessee. Everyone back then used to call him "Horse"
. His mother back at the time told him that if he ever
wanted to keep "it"; that he best marry only "women from
good stock".

This began Brad's ancestor's quest to only find women
who's father's and brother's were also of "good stock."

Brad's great-grandfather (x3) found such a girl in
Georgia, married her, and had 4 young studs who were
also of "good stock".

An edict was passed down in the family that the
children were to only do the same. Generations later,
Brad was born, and the men in his family now rank as
the family with the largest cocks in America.

For those who are wondering, Brad still abides by his
family's ancient edict and is continuously searching
for women who have fathers and brothers with "good stock"

He's already fathered 8 children, and all show promises.

"What's all the commotion?" he said, sleeping stepping
out onto the walkway yelling down.

From above, he could see the lustful writhing taking
place downstairs.

"Mmmm," he thought outloud. "Fresh meat!" as he walked downstairs.

The troupe was too engaged in what they were doing to
notice him. Roxy was busy bouncing up and down on
Michael's shaft having one orgasm after another with
each few thrusts.

Slowly Brad kneeled down in front of Michael's shaven
ass and gently pushed his hips up and back revealing
the virgin hole. This startled Roxy as she opened her
eyes to gaze into Brad. She reached over and put her
arms around his neck, pulling him to her to kiss him,
as he thrust his enormous member up Michael's ass.

As Brad's cock entered Michael, it sent a wave of
sexual energy through him which all the other's felt.
Unable to contain himself, Michael came with such force
and vigor inside Roxy that she actually felt his cum,
deep inside her.

Alex couldn't hold back any further as he spewed his
jism down his throat.

Kyle was soon to follow, shooting his into Alex.

While just joining the party, Brad wasn't about to cum
yet as he pushed his cock deeper into Michael with each
thrust. Again and again, Michael shot his load deep
into Roxy. So much in fact that it was beginning to
spill out of her, back onto his cock.

"Hey Rox," Trixie yelled, noticing the mess that was starting.

"Unh... what... what... ungh..."

"I think you better get off."

"Ungh... Why?" she said stopping.

"Take a look," Trixie said, pointing to her crotch.

Roxy looked down and noticed the white, sticky goo
which was flowing steadily out of her, and down
Michael's cock. She quickly got up, and even more glop
fell out.

"Christ! I've never seen anybody cum so much."

Alex and Kyle had already left Michael and were each
taking laps in the pool. With one final thrust, Brad
jammed his cock deep inside Michael, spewing his juices
deep inside him. Not to be outdone, with a wave or
orgasmic delight, Michael shot his load one last time
with it flying well over his head.

"That was great," Michael said.

Not amused at the mess Roxy was literally in, she
balked back "Yeah, well I still have cum dripping out of
me! How much did you fucking cum?"

"I dunno, pretty much every time this guy thrusted his
cock into me."

"Fuck," she said, scooping up the dripping cum from her
crotch with her hands. "I need to take a shower."

Meanwhile, back at Augustus' office, he and his partner
were keeping abreast of the fun times which had just
taken place at the pool.

"Gus, did you see that?" Lenny said walking into
Augustus' office.

"Yeah, fucking unbelievable!"

Lenny Smitz was Augustus' business partner, camera man,
editor, and office queen.

"The guy's got the combined prostate of Jeff Stryker,
John Holmes, and Rupert Murdhock." he replied. "Wonder
what drugs or herbs he takes?"

"I dunno," said Gus, "but we're gonna make a killing off
of him!"

Back at the pool, Roxy had gone upstairs to shower. All
the screaming and moaning which had taken place at the
pool woke Amber and Linda, the only lesbian couple that
lived at Melrose Place.

"What the fuck's going on down here?" yelled Linda.

"Oh God," she thought to herself gazing down at Michael's
still semi-hard dick. "More cock."

"Hi," Michael said to her.


"I'm Michael."


"Wanna fuck?"

As if she could get any more pissed off, Linda stormed
off back into her apartment, slamming the door behind her.

"Was it something I said?"

"She's a vegetarian," said Christy.

Michael just looked at her perplexed.

"A lesbian!" said Jeff.

"Oh, well on that note I think I'm going to go upstairs
and take a nap." he said.

"Have fun, studboy," cried out Trixie as he walked away.

He walked back upstairs and proceeded to take a shower.
Downstairs, however, he was still the talk of the pool.

"Have you ever seen a guy cum so much," asked Christy.

"It's not natural," said Brad. "He's going to put us all
out of business."

"Now, now," said Trixie. "Unless Gus plans on shooting
nothing but jerk-off videos, he'll still need a partner."

"Good point!"

Unexpected Guests

Michael finished his shower as the rest of the troupe
got back to their sunbathing outside.

As he stepped out of the bath, a familiar figure stood
before him.

"It hasn't been a hundred years!" he exclaimed.

"Shut up and sit down," she said. "I'm here out of
courtesy; to see how you're doing." "Fine," he said.

"Yeah! I see that," she said plopping herself down on his
bed. "How much fucking did you do today?"

"You saw all that?" he said throwing himself onto the bed
to lay down.

"I saw everything," she said emphatically; "and from my
angle, it looked pretty damn erotic."


"No, that's what you're going to do to me," she said. "Now
that you've washed all the juices off those mortal
bitches, it's my turn."

"Fuck you, I'm not in the mood." he said, turning away
from her on his bed.

"I don't think you understand," she said. "You're going to
do me, whether you want to or not."


With a flash of light, and a puff of smoke, out of
nowhere a remote control appeared in the mystic woman's hand.

"Like this," she said; pushing a button.

Suddenly, and without warning, Michael's cock sprang up
at attention.

"But," he said.

And with another push of a button, she caused him to
cum, right then and there; spewing his juices all over
his stomach.

"I," he said. "I can't move!" Laying there, on his back,
cum dripping down the sides of his stomach and chest.
She couldn't help but laugh.

"This wasn't part of the deal!" he cried out.

"I'm modifying the agreement!" she said angrily.

"You can't do that!" he said.

"Oh, really now," she said, crushing his balls in her
hand. "What are you going to do, sue me?" Next, she
grabbed his erect cock, and with great force, ripped
it; along with its circuitry, right out of his body.

Sparks and smoke billowed from his groin as he let out
a muffled cry. Spastically, his head began to jerk back
and forth.

"I, I, I, I," he said with an electronic studder.

"Oh, shut up!" she said; pressing another button on her
remote. Immediately, Michael lost all control of his
mouth and voice and just laid there, looking up at the
ceiling, motionless.

"Do you believe me, now?" she said sarcastically,
standing over him; his cock still in her hand. "I said
you were going to fuck me, and you are."

She pressed a few more buttons on her remote and
Michael sat straight up on his bed.

She took his cock, with wires and tubes still hanging
from it, and proceeded to give the detached member
head. He had no idea how, but he was feeling her warm
moist lips on his detached head; and it felt very good.

Next she snapped her fingers and from a puff of smoke,
a tall glass of iced tea appeared on the night stand.
Nonchalantly she plopped his shaft -- head first --
into the cold glass of tea which he suddenly felt. In
fact, the liquid was so cold he wanted to shiver, but
was already frozen and couldn't.

"Hmmm, that was nice," she said aloud while climbing up
on the bed next to him, "but I have a craving for
something salty," she continued. Michael looked down and
could see her sticking her hand into the cavity in his groin.

He felt nothing as he could see her arm deep within his
groin. She then pulled out what appeared to be a very
long tube from within him and brought it up to her lips.

"Did you know I swallowed?" she said wryly as she sucked
on the tube.

As she sucked, white, milky fluid started to flow out
from inside him and she took in ounce after ounce.

He was feeling wave after wave of orgasms as she
continued to suck on the tube. Minutes later she
stopped and shoved the tube back inside him.

"Ahh!" she cried out. "Delicious! What did you think?"

He said nothing.


He still said nothing.

"Ooops!" she giggled. "Here," she said pressing a button on
the remote control.

"What d-d-d-d-did you d-d-d-d-d-d-d-do?" he tried to say.

"Isn't it obvious, my dear?" she said as she ran her
fingers through his stoic head. "I just drank your cum!"


"Enough! Now I have a craving for something cold and sweet."

She picked up the glass of tea with his cock and balls
still sticking out. She wrapped her lips around one of
the tubes sticking out, and began to use his cock as a straw.

Michael immediately felt the cold liquid flow up his
shaft as she drank the entire liquid.

"C-c-c-c-c-c-cold." he said.

"Ah!" she said, swallowing the last drop. "Ready for that fuck?"

She squatted down beside the bed and thrusted his hard
shaft deep within her. In and out she pushed and pulled
on his member with one hand, and massaged her clit with
her other until she brought herself to climax.

Falling down on her knees, she let out a sigh, stood
up, and snapped her fingers again. With another flash
of light, Michael's cock was reattached to his body, he
was able to talk normally, and could move freely.

When he realized this, he jumped to the other side of
the floor away from her.

"What the fuck just happened?" he cried out.

"Darling, you've just been fucked by the devil." she
said; and with another snap of her fingers, a flash of
light, and puff of smoke; she was gone.


After checking his apartment briefly to make sure she
had left, Michael layed down for his nap. Hours later,
a knock on his door brought him back to consciousness.

He answered the door only to find Roxy and Trixie
standing in the hall.

"Hurry up and get dressed, we're going to IHOP to get
something to eat," said Trixie.

He nodded and walked back inside to put on some clothes.

As he walked downstairs, he saw Brad, Kyle, Trixie, and
Roxy waiting for him at the gate.

"I've got shotgun!" cried out Kyle as he ran to Brad's Jeep.

"He always has shotgun," Trixie whispered to Michael.

Roxy went ahead and got in the backseat of Brad's Jeep
as Trixie motioned for him to go in next.

Brad headed south along the surface streets towards
Wilshire Blvd. While he and Kyle were having fun up
front listening to the radio, Trixie took it upon
herself to try to have some fun in the backseat.

"You're quite amazing Michael," she said, gently running
her hand up his thigh.

"I'll say!" Roxy chimed in. "I went through three pairs of
panties after I got out of the shower 'cause of all the
come still dripping out of me."

Sweat, baby; sweat, baby;

Sex is a Texas drought.

Me and you do the kind of stuff,

that only Prince would sing about.

"Sorry," he said; leaning over to whisper in her ear.

"It was ok," she said. "I haven't come so hard myself in a
long time."

Trixie continued her explorations of Michael with her
hand as she ran her fingers over his shorts. She could
feel him starting to get hard.

So put your hands down my pants,

and I'll bet you'll feel nuts;

Yes I'm Siskel, yes I'm Ebert,

and you're getting two thumbs up!

Michael's cock was beginning to peek out from
underneath his denim which was turning Roxy on. She
began to massage herself through her denim shorts.

"Sorry, Rox," said Trixie. "I've got to have it!" as she
unbuttoned his shorts, undid the zipper, leaned over;
and took his shaft in her mouth.

You've had enough of two-hand touch,

You want rough, you're out of bounds;

I want you smothered, want you covered;

like my Waffle House hashed browns.

Trixie began to give Michael a blowjob right there in
Brad's Jeep. Roxy slouched down and spread her legs as
she undid her shorts and proceeded to finger herself.

Drivers along side them were getting an eye-full as the
three were engaged in some purely erotic stimulation.

Comin' quicker than Fedex,

never reach an apex,

Just like Coca-Cola stock you make me rise an hour early,

just like Daylight Savings time!

You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals,

So let's do it like they do on the Discovery channel!

You and me baby, ain't nothin' but mammals,

So let's do it like they do on the Discovery channel!

Michael erupted like clockwork into Trixie's mouth who
took it all in without spilling a drop. Having
witnessed this however, Roxy was ready for more.

Roxy, who wasn't wearing any panties, slid her shorts
down and brought Michael's head to her lap.

"Now it your turn to give me head, darling." she said.

Love, the kind you clean up with a mop and bucket,

Like the lost catacombs of Egypt only God knows where
we stuck it,

Hieroglyphics? Let me Pacific,

I wanna be down in your South Seas,

But I've got this notion of the motion of your ocean,

Means "Small Craft Advisory"!

So if I capsize in your thighs,

High-tide, B-5, "You sank my Battleship!"

Please turn me on, I'm Mr. Coffee,

with an automatic drip.

All this action in the back seat was getting Brad and
Kyle turned on up front as well as they couldn't resist
giving each-other a handjob as well.

So show me yours, I'll show you mine,

"Tool Time," you'll Lovett just like Lyle,

Then we will do it doggy style,

So we can both watch "X-Files".

Anybody who's tried to give someone else a hand-job
while driving has got to realize how difficult it must
be to keep your car on the road, especially while
having to shift gears and not lose momentum at the same time.

However, for the driver receiving the hand-job, it's
proportionally more difficult to keep control,
especially when you just erupted all over yourself, and
your shirt.

Several minutes later, after almost setting a record
for the most near misses in a five-mile journey, the
five arrived at the IHOP.

Brad got a new shirt from his duffle bag behind the
back seat as the four went in to get a table.

"Fuck, I could use a cigarette right about now," Roxy said.

"Fuck a cigarette, I could smoke a whole carton!" chimed
in Trixie.

Unfortunately for the two, all public places in Los
Angeles County were smoke free. The funny thing is, the
smog has never seemed to die while the cigarette butts have.

Brad had joined the other four who were sitting at a booth.

"What'll it be, guys?" the waitress said as she
approached the table.

"Potato pancakes," said Roxy.

"Steak and eggs," said Brad.

"Mexican omlette," said Kyle.

"Oooh, that sounds good," said Trixie. "I'll have an
omlette, too."

"And for you, sir?" the waitress said to Michael.

"I'll have a glass of water."

"Water?!" the group said in unison.

"What?" he cried out. "I'm not hungry!"

Little did the group know the reason behind Michael's
apparent lack of appetite.

"Well you're a cheap date," remarked Kyle.

The group sat and talked about their earlier escapade
and about the film industry in general. Much to the
chagrin of the family of four sitting at the next
table, all their talk of cocks and clits and cum were
making some patrons uncomfortable.

"So is everyone ready for tomorrow?" asked Kyle.

"What's happening tomorrow?" asked Michael.

"Filming begins for Busty blonde Bimbo Bitches Bathing
by Bodega Bay," said Brad.

"Busty Blonde..." interrupted Michael, laughing.

"Hey, we don't make the titles," said Roxy.

After eating, the five went on back to their apartments.

Kyle joined Michael upstairs for some drinks and a
little action where their evening was filled with a
Time Warp full of fucking and sucking.

Busty blonde Bimbo Bitches: Bathing by Bodega Bay

Michael was still laying in his bed next to Kyle when
the knock came at his door. He looked at the clock and
saw that it read 9:30 AM. Hurriedly he got up and threw
on a towel as he walked over to answer the door.

Outside was Augustus and Lenny.

"Hi, Mike," said Gus. "Hope we didn't wake you. I'd like
you to meet Lenny Smitz, my business partner."



"Ready for your big day, Michael?" asked Gus.

"As I'll ever be."

He went back in, threw on some jeans and a T-Shirt and
met the others downstairs by the pool.

ACTION ON THE BEACH (which is actually a set).















"Cut!" said Gus. "Excellent! Amazing!" he said, walking
over to congratulate the performers. "All that and in
one take!"

"He's still hard," said Trixie.

"Yeah, I've never worked with a guy who could orgasm as
much as you, Mike." said Linda.

"I think we've got his stage name," said Lenny. "Orgazmo."

"Hasn't that already been used?" asked Trixie.

"Yeah, well it fits him the best."

The rest of the day the crew went back to the Melrose
Place apartments and finished setting up for the final shoot.

The final scene for the day takes place in Michael's
apartment where he invites the girls back for some fun.
Lenny had gone ahead of the rest to setup the lights
and camera.

When they arrived back at Melrose Place, Lenny was just
about finished getting the equipment setup.

"Ok, in this scene, Brad has invited the girls back to
his place for a cocktail." said Gus.










"Cut!" Said Gus.

"Oh my God!" screamed Linda. "Michael! Are you okay?"

He didn't move.

"Someone quick, give him CPR," yelled Lenny.

Trixie ran to call 9-1-1 as Gus ran over to give him

Everyone was hovered around him when Lenny accidentally
stepped on the remote as he was pacing. His foot
depressed the power switch on the remote which
immediately brought him back to life.

"You're ok!" yelled Trixie.

"What happened?" he said, wearily getting up.

"You collapsed. We thought you had died," said Gus.

Michael remembered what happened, how the remote almost
gave his secret away, and he knew he had to leave
before his real secret was found out.

"I'll be back," he told the group.

"Where are you going?" asked Linda.

"I need some air; going for a walk."

And with cavalier footsteps, Michael picked up the
remote, walked out the door and down the steps, and
left Melrose Place; never to be heard from or seen again.


Michael walked around Los Angeles for several days
trying to figure out what he was going to do next. From
Compton to Beverly Hills he traversed the county
searching for a purpose.

He was approached on several occasions by men and women
looking for a quick lay, and narrowly avoided running
into the clan from Melrose Place when he came up with
the idea of heading north to San Francisco.

Alongside the highway he stood with no bags. Just his
jeans and T-Shirt.

He prominently stuck out his thumb, poinint northward.
For several minutes cars whizzed by him. One or two
honked their horns when a big rig came from over the
horizon and gradually slowed down.

The rig pulled off to the side and stopped just in
front of him. Michael walked over, climbed up, and
opened the door.

"Where you headed?" the driver asked. He was big, and burly.

"San Francisco."

"Hop in, I'm going to Alameda. I'll take you." he said.

Michael got in the cab of the 18-wheeler and the two
sped off down the highway.

"So why are you going to San Francisco?" asked the driver.

"Looking to start over," he said.

They spent the next hour or so listening to the radio
and talking about nothing in particular. Things started
to go rough for Michael when the driver reached from
under his seat and pulled out a batton.

"What are you doing with that?" he asked.

"This!" the driver yelled as he swung the batton and hit
Michael on his head. The force of the blow caused his
memory and CPU to crash and Michael was rendered unconscious.

Michael came to several hours later after his circuits
reset and found himself naked on the ground in a
forest. He tried to get up, but couldn't and looked
down and noticed his limbs were severed.

"Help!" he cried out, as tiny sparks were still coming
from his shoulders and hips.

"Good, you're awake," the man said coming from the
bushes. He was holding Michael's left leg and was
pulling on something causing his foot to flex up and
down. "Care to tell me what the fuck you are?" he said
tossing the leg next to him.

"I don't understand," Michael said.

"BULLSHIT!" the man yelled. "You're not human. What are
you, some kind of alien or something?"

Michael said nothing, as he saw the man rummaging around.

The big rig driver got a pole about 3 feet tall, and
about 2 inches in diameter and stuck it into the
ground. He picked Michael up by his hair and shoved him
down onto the pole, sticking it up into his ass.

As the rod impaled Michael up the ass, it triggered
circuitry in him; the electronic version of a male's
prostate gland. This caused Michael to become aroused
and orgasm. Constantly. Michael's dick sprang to
attention and he began ejaculating all over the place.
Pulse after pulse he shot his load up and it fell onto
the ground.

"Motherfucker," the man said. "FREAK!" and he ran off.

This went on for several hours, well into the night.
Mutilated, he couldn't do anything but look down and
watch. The only thing causing him not to go virtually
insane was the he was having too much fun. With each
shot of his load, Michael orgasmed again, and this
pleasure was keeping him from feeling the pain.

Around midnight or so, Michael ran out of cum and his
body was pumping dry. As the juices trickled and
eventually stopped, Michael stopped feeling the orgasms
which were consuming him for the many hours earlier and
was starting to feel real pain.

Pain of the rod stuck in his ass. Pressure.

Pain of trying to shoot a load where none existed.

Now, instead of each pulse bringing him joy and
pleasure; each pulse brought with it excruciating pain.

He let his mind wander to try not to think about the
pain he was suffering and didn't notice the sunrise.

As the birds started to chirp, a flash of light and
smoke came from nowhere and the devil woman appeared
again before him.

"Michael," she said.

He didn't respond.


Again, nothing.

She reached down and grabbed his balls. "Michael!" she yelled.

Startled, he opened his eyes. "You!" he said angrily. "Did
you do this to me?"

Laughing hysterically she replied, "Nope, this isn't my
work but I'd sure like to meet the guy who did this to you."

He looked down and away from her.

"Don't you know smoking can be bad for your health," she said.

"What are you talking about, I don't smoke." he said.

"You are now," she replied running her fingers up his
shaft. Smoke was starting to billow out his pee-hole as
the pump inside him which caused him to ejaculate
burned up from trying to pump air.

"Oh my god!" he yelled. "Make it stop! Make it stop!"

"How long have you been like this," she asked.

"About 14 hours or so."

She stepped around the rather large puddle of robo-cum
which had completely surrounded him.

"What would you do without me?" she said, leaning over to
lick his cheek. With a snap of her fingers, Michael's
limbs were reattached. He stood upright, and pulled
himself up, along with the pole which was still stuck
up his ass, out of the ground.

"Dick on a stick!" the woman cried out. "I like this!" She
snapped her finger again and he was sticking up in the
air, the pole firmly in her grasp, as if she was
holding a torch.

"Hey!" he yelled.

Again, the devil snapped her fingers. This time Michael
was $\frac{1}{10}$th his size as the Devil licked him from his balls
to his head like a popsicle.

"Please!" he cried out again, his voice many many octaves higher.

"You sound like a chipmunk," she said giggling.

With one final snap, Michael was again his normal size
and was standing in front of her, ankle deep in the
puddle of cum.

"Yuck!" he said when he realized where he was standing,
and jumped out.

He ran down to the stream at the bottom of the ravene,
and dipped his feet in to wash off the glop. When he
walked back up the hill, the devil was standing,
talking on a cell-phone.

"Uh huh," she said. "You shoulda been here, it was hysterical."

He walked over to his clothes and began putting them
on, and placed the remote in his back pocket.

Laughing, the Devil continued her conversation. "I'm
telling you, Dick on a Stick! We should patent it."

Michael got dressed as she ended her conversation and
flipped the phone close.

"That Lucifer," she said outloud. "What a character."

"I thought you were the Devil." he said.

"I am."

"Then aren't you Lucifer?"

"Hell, No!" she said with a chuckle. "Lucifer's my brother."

"Then who are you?"

"I'm Christine." She squatted down in front of him and
took a piss. "So, where were you going?" she asked him as
she got up.

"San Francisco." he replied; and with a snap of her
fingers, he was there.

San Francisco, Here I Come...

As if Michael's troubles weren't bad enough, the devil
was being exceptionally sadistic to him this time around.

In a flash Michael found himself in San Francisco,
allright. Standing right in the middle of the Golden
Gate Bridge between two lanes of traffic!

Cars immediately began honking and swerving as he
appeared out from nowhere. Petrified he dodged the
oncoming cars and semis and ran off to the side.

He walked the mile or so to the other side as cars
continued to honk at him. Of course, no driver expected
a pedestrian to be on this side of the bridge. It's
amazing he never got hit while walking.

Then again, I wrote too soon.

Crossing the bay was the asshole truck driver who tried
to kill Michael from before.

Recognizing the outfit Michael was wearing, he swerved
to hit him; and with a loud "thunk" he struck Michael
from behind and threw him several hundred feet down the ditch.

Michael was severely damaged as the result of the
collision. His memory circuits were fried and his CPU
was constantly resetting. He layed like this for
several months before he was discovered by a junkman
who brought him back to his yard.

"Whacha got there, Clark?" the old man said as the
junkman dragged Michael from the back of his truck.

"Some kinda mannequin." he said. "Looks to be in pretty
good shape, too."

"Well, set 'im up over there," the other man said
pointing to a vacant spot in the yard.

For three years, Michael stood erect, outside in the
weather. A thousand bird droppings later, a rather
bohemian lady stopped by the junkyard looking for items
for her new home.

As she walked through the yard, her eyes fell upon what
she thought to be a rather handsome statue.

"How much for the statue," she asked the man.

"$\$50.00$," he replied and with the stroke of a pen, she dragged
Michael to her stationwagon and layed him inside.

She drove back to her house on Barbary Lane where she
took him out and dragged him inside and stood him up in
her kitchen.

"You need to be cleaned up," she said as she began
cutting away his clothes. "My, pretty realistic you are."
she thought aloud as she removed his underwear. "And
gifted, too!"

She noticed the remote control still resting in his
back pocket, set it aside, and threw his clothes in the
trash. She got out rags and chemical cleaner and from
bottom to top, she scrubbed every inch of his body,
being careful not to scratch his skin.

Several hours later she finished, and she posed him
like Michaelangelo's David, stuck his remote in his
hand, and pulled him into her living room.

Several years went by and Michael stayed tucked in the
corner, naked, and on a pedestal when the woman who
rescued him from the junkyard met her demise, her
daughter, Jennifer, came to take care of her mother's
final affairs.

As most of the items in her mother's house were being
auctioned off to pay the estate taxes, Jennifer took a
special interest in Michael and brought him home.

Excited with her new found piece of art, she called her
girl-friend to come over.

"What's so exciting," said Janet, walking into Jennifer's
living room.

One couldn't miss him, he was standing right in the
middle of Jennifer's living room.

"Oh my God!" she said aloud. "What is he?"

"Some statue my mom used to have," Jennifer said.

Janet walked over to him and ran her fingers over his
chest. "Uh, Jennifer, I've never seen a statue like this before."
Continuing, she glided her hands down to his crotch
and began to fondle him. "He's so ... real!" she
concluded by pulling on Michael's cock and making it erect.

The two giggled and laughed as they fondled Michael
some more.

"He's a regular Ken doll!" said Jennifer.

"I remember playing with Barbie when I was a kid, and I
don't remember Ken ever being like this," said Janet.

For several more minutes the pushed and pulled, tugged
and twisted just about every limb on his body.

"Hey, what's with the remote?" asked Janet.

"I'm not sure. It was in his hand when I picked him up
from my mom's."

Janet spread his fingers apart and removed the remote.
On a lark, she pressed the power button and Michael
sprung back to life.

"Aiiieeee!" the two yelled as they ran from the room. "
It's alive!"

Michael was still severely damaged from his collision
10 years ago and just stood there in Jennifer's living room.

Not hearing anything from the other room, Jennifer
wearily peeked into the room from the security of the kitchen.

"What's he doing?" asked Janet.

"Nothing," she said. "He's just standing there."

Slowly, Jennifer walked towards him. He saw her and
followed her with his eyes as she approached.

"Hello," she said as she walked up to him.

"Hello." he replied.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"What's your name?" he replied.

"I'm Jennifer."

"I'm Jennifer." he replied.

Janet started to laugh as she sat down on the couch in
front of him. "He's like a broken record."

Not knowing what to do with him, Jennifer joined her
friend on her couch as the two just stared up at him.

He did nothing while they were gawking and just stood
silently staring back.

"Hey, this remote has a reset button." janet said. "I
wonder what it does if we press it."

And before Jennifer could tell her, "no," janet aimed the
remote at Michael and pressed the button.

Michael became stiff, and stood at attention. Slowly,
he brought his arms out in front of his chest and
brought his hands close together. Next, he rested his
arms at his side and looked down at the two women in
front of him.

"Hello," he said.

The two girls giggled and replied in unison, "Hi!"

"Where am I?" he asked.

"San Francisco."

"I remember something about San Francisco." he replied.

"You do?" Jennifer asked. "How much do you remember?"

"Difficult. Memory fragmented. Sex. Orgasms. Pussies." he replied.

"He's a fucking sex droid," said Janet.

"Maybe," Jennifer said. "But I'm not sure."

"Please!" janet said. "Look at his cock! Would he have a
12 inch cock is he wasn't a sex droid?" "I guess you're right."

"What is a sex droid?" Michael asked, listening to their

"A machine that provides pleasure," janet replied.

"I like pleasure," Michael said.

"So do we!" said Janet.

Janet and Jennifer each took his hand and led him to
Jennifer's room where they both stripped down and layed
on her bed. Not really knowing what to do, Michael just
stood there at the side of Jennifer's bed until janet
leaned over and pulled him down.

He helped somewhat when he realized they were trying to
guide him up and onto the middle of the bed where he
just layed as the girls flanked him on either side.

Janet stroked his hair as she gazed into his eyes. "He's
the most gorgeous thing I've seen," she said.

While janet was checking out Michael's hair, Jennifer
was letting her fingers do the walking as she caressed
his chest and stomach then let her fingers drift downwards.

"To think my mom thought you were a statue," she said,
pulling on his shaft, giggling. "Do you remember
anything while you were with my mom?" she asked,
climbing on top of him.

"No," he said stoically.

"Well, it's just as well, I suppose," she said as Michael
reached up to support her. Gently she glided his hard
cock inside her as she let out a moan. "It's so big!" she gasped.

In fact, bits and bytes of Michaels' memory were coming
back to him as his operating system attempted to repair
the fragmented pieces of his memory.

Stills at first filled his head. Mosaiced, garbled. As
each second passed however, more and more images became clear.

"Naked," he said softly outloud while Jennifer was riding him.

"Yes," she replied, gasping in ecstasy. "We're naked." "No, me."

"You... unh... are... unh... too."

"Jennifer, STOP!" janet said looking into Michael as his
eyes moved all around in his head as thousands of
frames were becoming defragmented and filling his view.

"One... more... minute," she exclaimed as the ecstasy
built up inside her to climax. "Oh... God... Oh...
Yes... Yes!!!! YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"My name is Michael," he said softly out loud. "What year
is this?"

"2010," said Janet.

"Ten years," he replied. "I've been out for ten years."

Michael moved to get Jennifer off of him as he curled
up into a fetal position on her bed.

"The devil!" he exclaimed. "Where is the devil?"

"There's no devil here," janet said softly, stroking his
cheek. He was obviously frightened.

"Trust me, she's not far," he replied. "She always shows up."

"I think he's still broken," said Jennifer.

"No broken!" Michael exclaimed jumping up out of the bed.
He grabbed the remote and snapped it in half as he fled
to a corner of the room and cowered. "No broken." he
replied again.

"What do you remember?" asked Janet.

"Mutilation." he said shivering. "Filming. Cameras. Mutilation."

"Oh my God," said Jennifer. "That's horrible."

"Rod," he continued. "Impale. Rod."

"Someone named Rod impaled him?" asked Janet.

"I dunno, I guess so. I don't remember seeing any holes."


The two girls slowly walked towards him.

"Fucking. Sucking. Impale. Mutilation. Cameras. Lights.
Film. Paintings. Money. New York. Die."

"What does it all mean, Jenn?"

"I don't know but I know someone who might." she said,
getting up and putting on a robe.

Jennifer went into her kitchen and called her brother,
Daniel, who was an Internet geek.

Daniel rushed over to his sister's house upon hearing
of her discovery.

Jennifer's brother arrived in about twenty minutes. By
this time, Michael's memories of the past several weeks
of his consciousness had been restored and he was
dealing with the emotional aftermath. At this state of
his emotional existence it was uncertain whether he
needed a shrink more than he needed a geek.

"Is that him?" Daniel asked, entering Jennifer's room
looking at Michael still cowering on the floor.

"Yeah. He broke this, too," she said; picking up the
remote which was snapped in two.

"A remote control! Cool!" he said, examining the pieces. "
Looks like the ROM is still intact. If I can analyze
the pulse frequency, my PAD should be able to duplicate it."

Walking over to him, he extended his hand. "Here, get
up. I'm not going to hurt you."

Michael accepted Daniel's hand, and pulled himself up.
Feeling shame and cowardice, he cupped his hands in
front as the other three stood before him.

"An android that feels shame?" Daniel mocked. "This is no
normal companion-droid."

Indeed! Michael was no normal android, period! Little
did the three realize that Michael was in fact
immortalized by the devil.

Jennifer didn't quite understand it, but she started to
feel sorrow for the android standing in front of her.
He was obviously scared, and obviously embarrassed
being naked in front of everyone.

To get away from these feelings she was having, she got
a robe which belonged to one of her old boyfriends and
gave it to him to put on.

Thankfully, he accepted and turned away from Jennifer,
Janet, and her brother, to put it on.

As his back was turned, he felt a very cold breeze
overcome the room as he put his arms through the
sleeves. Turning back around to face the three he saw
her leaning against the wall on the other side of
Jennifer's bedroom.

"Oh my God, No!" he screamed out. Jennifer and janet
rushed over to comfort him.

"What? What's wrong?" they said.

"She's here!" Michael cried out.

"Who's here?" asked Daniel.

"The devil," he replied, cowering in the corner.

"There's noone here." Daniel said. "I guess he's still

"What do you want!" he cried out again.

The woman snapped her fingers and a cigarette
immediately appeared in her hand.

"They can't see me you fool," she said walking over to
him. "Get up before you embarrass yourself."

She reached under Michael's chin and lifted him up. "
I've been searching for you for a long time." she said.

"I broke the remote, you can't hurt me." he replied.

"Do you honestly think a remote control can stop me?" she
laughed with a cackle. With one final snap, Michael
collapsed to the floor - unconscious.

"What happened?" asked Janet.

"I don't know, it appears he's shut down." said Daniel.

"Jen, help me get him into my car, I'm going to take him
back to my place." he said.

The three carried him down to Daniel's car and layed
him in the back seat.

Daniel left soon after and headed back to his house.


Christine's sadistic treatments of Michael were
garnering the attention of Theresa. You see, Theresa
was Michael's, or rather Martin's, guardian angel.

As it turned out, Christine wasn't the Devil, per sť,
but was a fallen angel who had succumbed to Lucifer's
wilds. Her sadist treatments of others affected her all
throughout her life, and afterlife. It's amazing how
she got into Heaven to begin with.

A few weeks passed, and Christine stopped by Daniel's
home to check on Michael and how he was doing.

He was layed flat on a large workbench with fluorescent
shop lights suspended from the ceiling.

He was completely disassembled; his head detached from
his neck and chest, the upper part of his skull and
face removed, revealing two white orbs which are his
eyes, directly above two rows of perfect teeth, bathed
in a sea of servos and circuitry underneath.

All around flesh colored panels set stacked neatly and
arranged. Michael's endoskeleton was arranged, like an
archaeologist examining an ancient skeleton, it's
bright, shiny, aluminum rods, bundles and bundles of
multi-colored wires, and tubes neatly in place.

Each limb was detached, as well as each joint. Some
limbs and joints used eletromagnetic servos to provide
motion, mainly in the outer extremities; while other
limbs relied on hydraulic pressure to provide strength
and lift.

Michael was created purely as a machine. Christine
didn't try to duplicate human organs or bodily systems
in him like others had tried to do with androids in the
past, and had hopelessly failed. No, in fact Michael
was the perfect machine. Operating at 99% energy
efficiency, and giving off less than 1% in waste
energy, the human body didn't even attain such goals.

Three months had passed since Michael collapsed that
fateful day in Jennifer's apartment and she had stopped
by her brother's house to see how he was going.

When she walked downstairs into his basement, which was
actually an old nuclear fallout shelter, she was
surprised at just how many parts there was to him.

"How's it going, bro?" she asked as she entered the room.

"Pretty good! I think I found out where the problem was,"
he said, peering over a circuit board with a magnifying light.

Jennifer roamed about the room as her brother worked.
She picked up Michael's head, which at this point
looked more like a prop from a movie than a person's
head, and examined it.

Like a medical student nervously playing with a
skeleton, she gently pulled his lower jaw down and
pushed it back up. A faint whirr could be heard as the
gears spun the servos.

"He looked so real," she thought out loud.

"Whoever designed him wanted him to pass for being human,"
Daniel said. "This technology, the microservos, are
unlike anything I've ever seen or read about."

"Oh my God," she said, embarrassingly noticing Michael's
genitals laying flat on the table between the two rods
which made up his legs.

"What?" her brother replied wondering what she was
remarking about. "Oh, as if I could only be so lucky," he
said looking at his sister carefully examining
Michael's privates.

"His balls actually move!" she said giggling.

"Of course they do."

"Well, I hadn't noticed the last time I saw him."

"So what makes him hard?"

"Huh?" her brother replied, preoccupied.

"You know, erect. What makes him erect?"

"Honestly, I haven't paid too much attention to his cock
and balls these past months but I assume it's like
human men, hydraulic."

"Oh, whatever that means."

She walked over to the table where her brother was
working and stood against the wall watching. Nervously,
and unconsciously, she placed the head of Michael's
cock in her mouth and started licking and sucking on it.

Several minutes ensued while her brother had the
circuit board attached to an oscilloscope and logic
probe when he looked up and saw what his sister was
doing. "Having fun?" he asked her.

She just cocked an eyebrow and gave him a puzzled look.

"You're giving him head, but he can't appreciate it yet."

"Oh!" she said giggling as she pulled Michael's cock away
from her mouth. "I didn't even realize it."

"Uh huh."

Daniel had finished what he was working and inserted
the circuit board back into Michael's head while
Jennifer lay his genitals back where she found them.

"Grab me those wires, will 'ya?" he asked, pointing to
two black and red wires coming from a variable
transformer at the end of the table. Daniel connected
the alligator clips to the corresponding wires
protruding from the base of Michael's skull.

"Cross your fingers," he said. "Not sure how much voltage
he takes so I'm going to play it safe." He flipped the
switch to the transformer and set it to 12v DC.

Several seconds passed and nothing happened.

"Did you fry it?" his sister asked.

"Nah, undervoltage is a lot less damaging than overvoltage."
Daniel flipped another switch which set the
transformer to 24v DC, and immediately the gyroscope in
the middle of Michael's head started to spin at a very
fast RPM.

"I think we got it," he said, resting Michael's head on
two blocks.

Several more seconds passed and the servos behind
Michael's eyes twitched.

"What happened?" he said, his jaw and teeth moving
slightly open.

Jennifer couldn't help but bust out laughing at the
sight of Michael moving his eyes about. He looked like
a bad ventriloquist's dummy.

"What's so funny?" Michael replied sternly.

"Let me show you," she said, reaching into her purse to
pull out her makeup mirror.

She positioned it in front of his face and he said
nothing for a few minutes as he peered at his
reflection in the mirror. "I look hideous," he finally
replied. "This explains why I can't see my nose."

His nose wasn't there, but two tiny inlets just under
his eyes.

"Killing power," Daniel said reaching over to flip the
switch. Before Michael could ask him to stop,
everything went blank, and he became lifeless.

"Why'd you do that?" asked Jennifer.

"I've discovered something interesting," her brother
replied. "This is no ordinary android. Of course, I said
that already, but really. This guy's got a soul and personality."

Jennifer crouched down next to her brother to look at
the screen he was working on.

"See all this code?" he said. "This is his personality.
Every nuance, every trait, machine coded. There's got
to be gigabytes worth of code here."

"Cool. So what's all it mean?"

"It means he's the most advanced android in existence.
Probably from the government or something."

Jennifer left to go to the gym and workout. Her brother
continued fiddling with the display, and when finished,
proceeded to reattach Michael's head and pieced him
back together. "So many wires!" he thought out loud to
himself as he screwed the base of his head onto the
neck mount.

Limb by limb he re-attached to his endoskeleton.
Fortunately for Daniel, most of his wires, cables, and
tubes were mated.

It took him a full eight hours to reattach all the
limbs and wires, and he hadn't even started on the
exterior covers yet.

Reaching for his PAD, he loaded the emulation program
for the remote control and tapped the Power button
displayed on the screen.

Instantaneously motors started to whirr within him,
LEDs flashed throughout his head, chest, and torso, and
servos started to whirr. "Clickity-klak! Whirr! Beep!
Beep! Beep!" emanated from within him as system after
system powered up.

Michael twitched and became motionless as the servos
and actuators continued to function.

"Michael," Daniel asked.

"Yes?" he replied. Depressed.

"Can you move?"

"I didn't realize you had put me back together." he said. "
Clickity-klak! Whirr! Vrrrrrrm!" as more servos engaged. "Whoosh!"
his body sounded as his hydraulics became primed.

He sat up.

Looking down at himself, he could see the aluminum
rods, and hordes of cables and wires running throughout
him. "I guess you didn't put me entirely back together,"
he said.

"I wanted to get you this far and see if I had
everything right," Daniel replied.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Good, stay here. I've got to get some sleep."

And with that, Daniel left the bunker and went inside
his house and collapsed.

Michael spent the rest of the evening piecing himself
back together by applying the exo-panels across his body.

When he finished, he looked at himself in the mirror
and saw the same, familiar face.

As he turned back around to find something to wear,
appearing in a cloudy, white light was someone he
hadn't seen before.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I'm Theresa, your guardian angel."

He stood there for a moment and didn't move. Thoughts
and emotions ran through his head.

"But," he stammered to say.

"Rather, I'm Martin's guardian angel."

"I used to be Martin," he replied, bowing his head in sorrow.

"I know. And I know what you did, too." she said softly.


He couldn't help but cower on the cold, concrete floor.

"Martin," she said softly. "I know what you did, and what
you've been going through."

"I'm sorry." he replied.

"It's okay, my child. If you're ready, I'm here to take
you home."

"No more devil?" he asked.

"No, and no more torture."

He stood up slowly as the woman walked towards him and
gently embraced him.

"I'm ready." he said.

She reached up and gave him a kiss on his cheek. With
each second her lips stayed pressed against him, he
felt a warmth he hadn't felt in a very long time
encompass his body.

"My heart! I can feel my heart-beat!" he said joyously.


He ran over to the workbench and gently picked up an
exacto knife. Pricking his finger, he noticed the small
bead of blood forming at the fingertip.

"I'm bleeding!" he said. He was overjoyed.

"Yes, you are." she said with a smile.

"Oh, thank you!" he said. "I'm human again."

Michael spun around in sheer jubilance but a slow
coldness started.

Stumbling, he lost his balance and found it
increasingly more difficult to breathe and fell to the floor.

"What's happening to me?"

"I told you, I'm here to take you home," she said.

The room started to spin, and he could feel a numbness
and tingling in his fingers.

With one last breath, Michael had died.

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