Quicksilver Bridges
An Anthology of Metamor City Erotica
by Nobilis Reed
Copyright Nobilis Reed 2012
Published at Smashwords
All Rights Reserved
Book Design by Nobilis Reed
The stories in this book are based on the Metamor City setting created by Chris Lester. Characters and settings derived from the Metamor City setting are used with his permission, including (but not limited to) Artax, Spells 4 U, Morgan Drauling, The Citadel, and the Metamor City Logo.
The Metamor City setting is inspired by and partly derived from the Metamor Keep setting, created by Kevin Deenihan and administered by Christian O'Kane. Some of the characters, settings and concepts contained in the Metamor City setting are derived from Metamor Keep and were adapted to Metamor City with the permission of Christian O'Kane.
The settings of Metamor Keep and Metamor City are released under a Creative Common Attribution ShareAlike 3.0 License. More information about this license can be found at
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and locations are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons or events, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.
This file is licensed for private individual entertainment only. The book contained herein constitutes a copyrighted work and may not be reproduced, stored in or introduced into an information retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means (electrical, mechanical, photographic, audio recording, or otherwise) for any reason (excepting the uses permitted to the licensee by copyright law under terms of fair use) without the specific written permission of the author.
Also by Nobilis Reed
The Orgone Chronicles
Scouts
Pirates
Roma Fervens
Ex Fumo Gaudiam
Tales of Love and Engineering
Riskwear
Magical Clothes
Runed
And Edited by Nobilis Reed
Coming Together: In Flux
Tentacle Dreams
Dedication
To Dee,
First, Last, and Always
for Understanding.
To Ann,
for Inspiring.
To Shanna,
for Seeing.
To Michele,
for Nitpicking.
To Chris
for Sharing.
Quicksilver Bridges
A Metamor City Erotica Anthology
by Nobilis Reed
IN THIS VOLUME
Metamor City Anniversary
A Mummy in Metamor City
Dreams of Change
Alive
Dogsbody
Foreword
In some ways, this book is a retrospective of much of my writing career. The first of these stories, Metamor City Anniversary, was published in November 2007, in the first year I was writing and podcasting my stories. Since then I have produced well over two hundred episodes of my podcast, written three novels, a half dozen novellas and dozens of short stories. I have matured as a writer, and reading back through these stories, I can see how my skill has improved and my style has developed.
But even with all of those changes, my enthusiasm for the Metamor City setting has never waned. It still speaks to me with the same depth and clarity as it always has. I have no doubt that I will continue to enjoy writing stories in this setting for some time to come.
Metamor City Anniversary
The young canimorph unlocked the oversized door and held it open for me to push Lissa's wheelchair through, and then brought in our suitcases. He hefted them easily onto the luggage racks by the door, and flipped on the light. "Anything else I can do for you, sir?"
"No, that'll be all for now, Ben. Thank you." The tip, a five mark note, disappeared into his pocket.
The door clicked closed and Lissa let out a rasping, pained breath. "They gotta fix that elevator."
"Yeah, it was a little rough." I checked my watch. "Don't worry... it'll be sunset soon."
"I want a pain pill."
"I know. Can you hold on a while more? You want a clear head tonight, you know."
She grumbled and winced, shifting in the chair. "Help me out of this thing. It's pinching again." She set the brakes and held out her hands.
I braced myself and pulled, hauling her up onto her feet, and then pivoted to set her down lightly on the bed. It creaked and sagged. "This place is really falling apart."
I chuckled. "Aren't we all."
She shot me a scowl. "Not funny, John."
"I'm sorry." I went to the window and looked out between the drapes. The buildings and skyways obscured any possible view of the sun, of course, but from the right angle, I could make out the citadel. I could tell when sunset was complete when the orange sunlight disappeared from its polished heights.
"Next year, we should find a better hotel. This one's really falling apart."
I made a little sound of agreement. I had looked for a better hotel, but the Furry Arms was the best we could afford that was within walking distance of the Spells 4 U magic shop. I trusted Artax, and he gave me a good deal as a repeat customer. I put my hand over the pocket where the bottles were stashed.
"Did he give you instructions?" Sometimes I think she can read my mind.
"Yup." The instructions changed every year. I had heard it's part of a little game he plays, to trip people up, but I'm a systems tech. I'm used to following instructions carefully. He hasn't gotten me in six years. I pulled out the little slip of paper and reviewed it for the dozenth time. "Place one drop of the subject's blood in the bottle. Shake vigorously for one minute, then quickly pour the contents over your tongue, swish, and swallow. As you say it, so shall the subject be, until the sun dawns or sets."
"Does he mean shake the bottle vigorously, or shake ourselves?"
"With Artax, it's hard to say. Best to do both."
"And what's with this 'as you say it' business? I thought you were just getting those relief potions."
"He was all out. He said these will do the job, though. That and more. If I'm reading this right, once you drink the thing, all you have to do is say what you want to happen to your body, and it happens."
"Hm. That has possibilities."
I looked back up at the citadel. The last bit of the pinnacle went dark. "It's time." I took the two bottles out of my pocket, along with a pair of lancets from Lissa's test kit. I handed her a bottle and a lancet, and then pricked myself, producing a drop of blood on the tip of my finger. I checked my watch. "Put the drop in on three, then cap it and start shaking. I'll tell you when the minute is up. One... two... three."
Blood, cap, shake. I kept my eye on my watch as I shook my body, shaking the vial along with it. I counted down by tens, until I got to the last five seconds.
Lissa cried out as the last seconds were ticking down. "John! Get it Get it!" She pointed under the bed.
I fell to my knees and looked. Her vial was rolling into the darkness. I grabbed it and held out my hand to her.
"Which one is it?"
I looked at my hand. Without thinking, I had scooped up the vial with the hand that held my own vial. "I don't know."
"No time to figure it out." She grabbed one, uncapped it, and poured it into her mouth. I did the same. The magic felt warm and tingly, a big improvement over last year's that felt cold and slimy.
"Did we get it right?"
"Only one way to know," she said. "I don't have arthritis." She flexing her fingers and winced. "Shit. I don't need this."
"Don't worry." I put my hand on her shoulder. "You don't have arthritis."
She sighed and smiled. "Can you do the rest?"
"You don't have asthma or allergies. You don't have migraines. Your nervous system works the same as it did when you were twenty."
Relief flowed over her. I could see the whole year's pain washing away. She stood and wrapped her arms around me. Every year, this moment was special.
"My turn?"
"Oh... yes, of course, honey. You don't have diabetes. You have normal erections. Your nervous system works the same as it did when you were twenty."
My conditions aren't painful, like Lissa's are, so I didn't feel the same profound effect, but as sensation returned to my hands and feet, I smiled.
The first time we came to Metamor City for our anniversary to get a vacation from our chronic illnesses, we threw ourselves at each other. The relief Lissa felt from her pain and paralysis translated into such incredible passion that we wore ourselves out the first hour. Not so anymore. With hours and hours to spend together; there's no need to rush.
Even so, Lissa was nearly bouncing. "Come on, let's take a shower."
I let her lead me into the bathroom, where we quickly stripped out of our traveling clothes. Her sweats and underwear were a little easier to manage than my casual suit, so she was naked and under the warm spray before I even had my pants off. The pure joy of seeing her moving so easily brought out a broad grin.
She looked over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Don't tell me you're getting turned on just looking at this." She wiggled her posterior.
"I'm happy we're here, together." I pulled off my boxers and stepped in behind her, nuzzling her neck. "I love you. There's no place in the world I'd rather be." I took the little bottle of shampoo from the shelf, poured it out into my hand, and started massaging it into her hair. "I don't like it when you run yourself down that way, Lissa. It's true, being stuck in the chair hasn't been kind to you, but I love you just the same."
"I'm just being realistic."
"This isn't the time to be realistic. This is the time to be fanciful. Let's put the rest of the year behind us, and just have fun."
"You know, you're right." She plunged her head under the spray to rinse out the shampoo, turning to face me to let her hair fall down her back. I took the little perfumed soap out and worked up a lather between my hands. As I started soaping up her body, she cocked an eyebrow and asked, "So what do you want to change first?"
"Hm?" I put the soap back and started lathering up her chest, being sure to get soap well up into the creases under her breasts.
She put her hands on her hips. "What do you want to change about me? The magic is still working, so you can change anything just by speaking it."
"Oh no," I said. "I'm not stepping into that minefield."
"Fine. Then I'm going to change something about you." She looked me over with an appraising eye. "You have a full head of long, blonde hair."
I felt my hair suddenly grow down my back. I chuckled and shook my head, and a lock of it fell in front of my eyes. Even wet, I could see the golden color. "Are you going to help dry this after we're done?"
"Won't be a problem. Your turn."
"Okay, but on one condition... we never talk about this, except on our anniversary trip. I don't want to hear you complain about how I hate your boobs the rest of the year."
"Sure, sure. Now, change something, or I'm going to give you a dick like a Louisville slugger."
"Okay, okay! Uh, your body is fit and toned."
She looked down and shrugged. Not much had changed. "Just shows, you can be fit and have fat at the same time. That one didn't count, go again."
She wouldn't leave me alone until she got what she wanted. "You have full, perky breasts."
Lissa's breasts swelled and rose, her nipples turning upwards. "Ah, now that's more like it." She ran her hands over them, weighing the firm flesh. "That's nice."
I made a little sound of agreement and soaped them up again. "So you like this whole transformation thing?"
"John. Please. I've been trapped in this body for years. Don't you think I'd be happy to get a chance to make it a fun place for a little while? It's like I'm putting on a pretty dress and makeup for a while." She lathered up her hands and ran them over my body. "So don't be afraid. Make me what you want."
"It is your turn, though," I observed.
"Okay... you don't have a potbelly."
My stomach shrank down, leaving my abdomen nice and flat. She ran her hands over it. "Mm, nice." Going lower, she massaged my cock with her soapy hands, slowly bringing it to full hardness. She knelt down and let the shower spray hit me, quickly rinsing off the soap.
I could feel her breath on my cock. "I thought you didn't like giving me oral sex," I said.
"It makes me gag... ordinarily." She raised an eyebrow, looking up at me expectantly.
I can take a hint. "You can control your gag reflex."
Her mouth enveloped me, gradually sliding down my shaft until her nose was buried in my pubic hair. Her tongue tickled the underside, sending quivers of excitement up my spine. "Oh, baby, that feels marvelous."
She slid back again, wrinkling her nose. She let my cock slip out of her mouth long enough to say, "You have no pubic hair." She touched my completely smooth pubes and swallowed my cock again. Nothing had ever felt so good. I put my hands gently on her head, trying very, very hard not to push, not to thrust, and just let it be, let it happen. I leaned back against the wall of the shower, pulling her after me with the lightest touch I could manage. Her movements, slow and deliberate, brought me closer and closer to climax.
I could just feel the point of no return on the edge of my sexual horizon when she stopped, kissed the tip, and said, "You won't orgasm until I tell you to." She smiled devilishly.
"Oooh, that's dirty pool," I said, but then she turned around and bent over, holding the handicapped railing for stability. I slid my cock into her slot, evoking sighs from both of us. "I should do the same to you," I growled. "Besides, you took two turns in a row."
She arched her back. "So you do two."
I pumped a couple times. "Alright, you're as tall as me." Her legs lengthened, bringing her pussy up to a much more convenient height. "Ah, much better." I settled in, giving her slow, comfortable strokes, no need to rush. Not yet, anyways. A plan formed in my head, a plan to get her to give that order. "The harder you're fucked, the better it feels."
"Oooh," she said, "You didn't need to say anything to get that one."
"Didn't I?" I picked up the pace a bit and found myself rewarded with a gasp of surprised pleasure. I did it again. My own body stayed at that pleasant plateau, where it was feeling good but I wasn't really coming or even close to it yet, but every time I turned up the heat Lissa's reactions became more extreme. In a matter of minutes she was pushed into the corner, her hands kneading her perfect breasts as I slammed her with everything I had. "Ready... for... me... to... come... yet?" I grunted out the words with each thrust.
"Yes," she squealed, "Yes, yes, come, please come! Fill me up!"
Held back like water behind a dam, my orgasm broke over me with a suddenness that left me breathless. I buried myself in her, and unleashed wave after wave of cum. I fell back against the wall of the shower to catch my breath. Lissa slipped down into the basin of the tub.
"That... was... incredible," she gasped.
"I think I broke something," I said, holding my hand to my back. "I haven't gotten this much exercise in years."
"Oh, you're fine," she said. And I was.
I held out my hand to help her up. "Are you alright?"
"I think I'm starting to prune."
"Well, we can't have that." I stepped out of the shower grabbed a couple of towels, offering her one.
She took it and wrapped it around her head, drying her hair. "You're not going to help me recover from that, with the magic?"
"I already took care of that, remember? It's my turn and I'm going to make it count." I ran the towel over my body. The long blond hair she had given me took a while to get dry.
"Alright, then what?" She finished drying her hair and moved on to her body.
"I'm going to think about it for a bit, okay?"
"Can I braid your hair while you think?"
"Sure."
She stepped out into the entryway while I dried the rest of my body, and came back with the toiletries case. She gave my hair a few long strokes with a hairbrush and then expertly twisted my hair into a tight braid running down my back.
"This could get really weird," she said. "I bet we could do some freaky stuff with this magic." She ended the braid with an elastic.
"Like what?" I looked at her in the mirror and caught a mischievous expression in her eyes.
"Pick something. Make it my turn, and you'll see."
What to do? I didn't want to try to out-freak her, but she had my mind running in all kinds of new directions. "You... have short, purple hair." Her hair shrank, changing colors as it went, shedding the water it could no longer hold as it went.
She smiled and put her hand through it. "Hm, not bad. That actually fits in nicely with what I had in mind." Her gaze shifted back to me, and she licked her lips. "You are a gorgeous, big-breasted woman."
My voice shifted through the spectrum as my body shrank and flowed. "What??" I put my hands to my chest, where a pair of huge mounds were swelling, overflowing my grip. In the mirror I could see my cock shrink down and disappear between the lips of a hairless cleft. The whole room seemed to get bigger. Stunned, I found myself unable to speak.
Lissa embraced me from behind, running her hands over my new body. My breasts flowed through her hands. "I... always wanted to try this." One hand slid over my moist skin, slowly approaching my hairless pussy. "Are you alright with this?"
I could manage only a whisper. "Yes." My breathing started coming faster.
Her fingers probed, exploring my rapidly moistening folds. "Are you going to make a change?"
I couldn't form a coherent thought. Words fled, my mind a wrecked pile of moans. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against Lissa's shoulder as her fingers slipped inside me.
"I want to fuck you, John. I want you to feel what I feel, when your hot cock slides inside me."
Fear gripped me, fear laced with lust and curiosity. What would it be like? I could say no, I could tell her I didn't want to give her a cock, but I didn't want to spoil things. Clearly, this fantasy haunted her imagination. How could I deny her? Still, the thought of making her a man was just a little too much for me. "Your clit gets hard and long and thick like a cock, when you get aroused."
She chuckled. "Chicken." She moved to stand next to me, to inspect her altered organ in the mirror. There, emerging from the bright purple fuzz around her pussy lips, a finger-sized nub of flesh peeked out. She stroked it, lightly, and it swelled and thickened, turning a light shade of purplish-red. "Are you ready for this?"
"No," I said, "But let's do it anyways."
I walked out into the bedroom and lay down on the bed.
She stood over me, hands on her hips, clit bobbing in front of her. "Well, don't you look enticing." The sarcasm could have been a little thicker, but not much. She sat down and stroked my leg. "Don't worry. It's going to feel real good." She leaned down, kissed my mound, and gently spread my legs apart. My pussy was sopping wet. "Your pussy tastes like honey," she said, and licked. She made a yummy sound and dove in, spreading my lips with her fingers to get every drop of fluid.
The amazing feelings, intensely pleasurable, drove me to arch my back and let out a long, low moan. I had never imagined that anything could feel so good. I grabbed my heavy tits and squeezed, hungry for more sensation. When Lissa stopped, I whimpered and opened my eyes to see her climbing up on top of me.
"Here it comes, lover." She rubbed her clit up and down a few times, coating it with my juices, and then slowly pressed it in. We groaned together in ecstasy. She looked into my eyes, staring into my soul, it seemed, and slowly drew herself out. She went slowly, so incredibly, teasingly, achingly slowly.
My orgasm came first, a growling crashing thing that seemed to go on for an eternity. As I was recovering, I heard and felt her shuddering climax. And we realized something... If both of us were female, there was no established time to stop fucking.
So we didn't. When our muscles cramped, we switched positions. When our skin got raw, we used the magic to heal it. I lost count of orgasms at twenty. Each.
We played a little more with transformations through the night, but in the end we decided we liked the shapes we had come out of the bathroom in; me a buxom, curvy woman, and Lissa a buxom, curvy woman with purple hair and a six-inch clit. Crazy, I know, but it worked better than anything else. Maybe I had always wanted to be a woman. Maybe I only just discovered it there. I don't know. All I know is the shapes we gave each other that night felt like destiny.
Finally, exhausted, we lay on the bed, and slept.
* * * *
I woke before dawn. The sky, what I could see of it, was lightening. I sighed, and sipped my coffee, and waited. When the first rays of sun returned to the spire, so would all of our maladies. This moment, just before the end, it was always so hard. To feel the seconds tick away, knowing that it would be another whole year before I could really feel like a whole person again, nearly brought me to tears. I squeezed my breasts, as if saying goodbye. Even next year, the chances I'd be able to afford the kind of magic we had been enjoying was slim. Yes, we'd have relief potions, we'd be able to be healthy and free of pain, for one night, next year... but I knew it couldn't be like this ever again. Artax had given me an incredible gift, but soon it would be nothing but memories.
I set aside my cup, and watched Lissa sleep. I knew that when the pain returned, she would need me. I could feel the magic already starting to drain away. And then...
Nothing.
We didn't change back. My hands and feet didn't go numb. Lissa didn't awaken groaning in pain. I looked back up to the spire, saw it shining in the bright, glorious orange morning sun.
I ran to the bed. "Lissa, Lissa, wake up!"
"Hmm?"
"It's sunrise. We didn't change back."
"What? I thought the potion only worked overnight."
"It did. Oh, that Artax, he finally got me. Look." I held her hand. "You have red fingernails." Her fingernails stayed the same healthy pink they had been all night. "See? The magic was temporary, but the changes are permanent."
A smile dawned. "I thought nerve problems were incurable."
"Not without powerful, expensive magic."
"Which Artax gave us."
We threw our arms around each other. Yeah, the gender change and the hair and everything else would be a little inconvenient, but we aren't the first people to come back from Metamor City with changes.
The rest of the world would just have to adjust.
A Mummy in Metamor City
The door dissolved into black wisps of cloud, accompanied by faint moans and ghostly cries of pain. An imposing man strode through the miasma. He raised one arm and a gauze-wrapped hand emerged from the sleeve of his impeccably tailored business suit. He pointed at the woman behind the desk, and a deep voice boomed from behind similar bandages swathing his head. "You have ruined me."
Doctor Kashar quailed. "Lord Anekhet." She rose to her feet and bowed deeply. He could destroy her right here, make the spirits that had opened her door do the same thing to her very soul, and there was no doubt in his mind that she deserved it.
The door re-solidified into a mass of clumpy black fibers, sealing the exit and shutting off all sound from outside. He wanted privacy. "Put me back the way I was." Cold, hard anger colored his voice.
Still bowed, Doctor Kashar stammered, unable to form a coherent word.
Anekhet walked up to the desk and stared down at her. "You meddled with my mind."
"My lord Anekhet, I only ever did what you hired me to do."
"I hired you to give me a sense of touch." He pulled the bandages from one hand, exposing lifelike, but not-quite-alive flesh. The dark Irombian skin tone was too even, the textures too perfect, to be a real hand. "I hired you to give me what I need to serve our people."
"I gave you a sense of touch, my lord. That's all."
"You lie!" The fluorescent lamp on the ceiling flickered and died, plunging the room into shadow. Only the city lights shining in through the floor-to-ceiling windows provided any illumination.
She stood up and backed away, hands raised in supplication. "P-perhaps if you told me what you are experiencing, I could h-help."
"I have...cravings." He came around the desk and stared out the window at the busy traffic, at the thousands of buildings, at the tremendous spire that seemed to pierce the moon. His hand touched the smooth pane. "Touch. No...it's more than that. Not just touch. I need contact." The ache ate away at his rage. If he did not scream, he would break down, fall into despair. For a moment, he mourned his tears, that he could no longer shed even these, but he thrust the thought aside. Such things were for mortals, not for one such as he.
"For twenty years I studied at the feet of my masters, learning the arts I would need to join their ranks. Then, when I was finally invited to perform the ritual of transcendence, I told them that I was not going to follow in their footsteps. Our order could no longer survive as hermits toiling in the deep desert, copying books and guarding the tombs of our kings, waiting for the beetles to gnaw us into powder one millimeter at a time. If we were to survive, we would have to change. We would have to find a new way."
His head sagged forward, coming to rest on the window with a soft thump. "So instead of being embalmed and mummified, I was plasticized, all of my soft tissues replaced..." He held up his naked hand, "With this. I felt that if I could blend in better with the mortal realm, I could be an ambassador from the old world to the new, a bridge to cross the widening chasm between my people, and yours." His arm dropped to his side.
"But the only thing you mortals fear more than an an animated corpse made of resin and bones that shambles about in a forgotten tomb is an animated corpse made out of silicone plastic that walks the street alongside you." He turned from the window and retrieved the linen from where it had fallen and began carefully wrapping his hand again. "I needed to be able to tell how hard to grip a man's hand when I shook it, to know when someone tapped me on the shoulder. But the cost is too great."
"What cost?" Her voice was faint, tentative. Still, she feared, but there was a glimmer of compassion in it.
He tied off the bandage, leaving his skin once again covered from head to toe. "Something about what you did, has awakened a need in me. A need to touch, and to be touched." His voice rose as his mood shifted again. "A need that can never be fulfilled because I am now, and ever shall remain, a monster."
Doctor Kashar stepped away again, but she nodded. "I see what you mean. The enchantment has given you-no, has returned to you-a bit of your humanity."
"Humanity." He spat the word like it was an olive-pit.
"Part of being human is being present in the world. A part of it. Affecting it, and affected by it, and not just in the sense of the physical environment. Also the social environment, your part in the lives going on all around you. You've got that back. It comes along with your restored sense. It's a gift."
The anger that had been consuming him when he entered the office had gone out. He turned and looked at her, and something in the air clicked between them.
She reached out and took his hand in hers. "Being human means being subject to pain. Not just the pain of stubbing your toe, but the pain of being feared and rejected by those around you. But you're not the only one who has had to deal with rejection."
"I'm not a child, Doctor Kashar, do not presume to teach me lessons. I lived a long life before I became what you see today, and that was not so long ago. I remember what it is to feel pain."
"Memory of pain is never the same as pain itself."
He stood as still as a statue. As still as the dead.
"My lord." She hesitated, taking a deep breath, steadying herself. "I know of a place where you can find people who are more understanding. I have referred several patients..."
"Your sensualists? Bah. I have no time for whores." He turned away, releasing her hand with an abrupt gesture. He was a creature of learning, of knowledge, of the mind. To accept such an invitation would be to betray everything he believed in.
"No, my lord. Not whores, not like home. They're legal here. They aren't shamed or degraded or despised. It's a respected profession, and there are people at the guild who are skilled in dealing with all sorts of problems. They might be able to help you." She took out her mobile phone and tapped on the keys. "I'm sending you an address and contact information. Just try it. See what happens."
A soft beep emanated from his jacket.
"My lord. You say that your life is an experiment, an attempt at a new way of living for the Ancients. Can you reject this without at least trying it?"
He turned toward the door, and the black barrier disintegrated in front of him. "I shall think on it. But you shall be prepared to take away this gift, if I should so choose."
"Yes, my lord."
* * * *
"Mister Anekhet, I presume?" The woman did not look like a whore. She was dressed in a burgundy business suit, with a skirt down to mid-calf. Except for the lack of a head scarf, you could see women dressed this way in Kharteese any day of the week. Only the ruby colored pin on her lapel marked her as a member of the sensualist's guild. She kept her hands at her side, offering not even the slight intimacy of a handshake.
Neither did her waiting room look like a den of perversion. The walls were decorated with large paintings of tranquil landscapes, interspersed with long banners of colorful silk. The furniture was little different from the chairs and tables found in Doctor Kashar's office. A certificate hung on the wall with the guild's emblem, the only indication of what sort of work was practiced here.
"You are correct."
She smiled and stepped away from the door. "I am Amisi bas-Akil. Won't you please come in?"
Her dark hair was bundled in dozens of tight, beaded braids. Her extremely dark skin and obsidian eyes reminded him of Irombi, but not of home, not the way Doctor Kashar had. She was not Khartee. His first instinct was to distrust her, to see her as either invader or slave, but he tamped it down. Now was not the time to act on instinct.
Her office was somewhat warmer in atmosphere than the waiting room. Instead of a desk, there was a pair of low couches set in one corner of the room, of the sort that could fold out into a futon bed. He imagined the need arose often. Bookshelves lined one wall, filled to overflowing with colorful titles. An entertainment console stood opposite, a wide screen flanked by speakers and many racks of disks. Alongside the console was a row of tall cabinets, something like a modern armoire. A small altar stood in one corner, with an incense burner ready but unlit.
He sat in the center of one of the couches, cross-legged, with his hands draped over his knees. There was no other way to sit on such a low seat with any dignity.
Amisi sat beneath him, in the center of a circle of heavy-pile carpet. "Thank you for coming," she said. "It must be difficult for someone from your culture to come here."
"And what do you know of my culture?"
"I watched the documentary about the Ancient Desert Masters," she said, and Anekhet winced. She hurried on past the gaffe. "And Doctor Kashar told me what she could, and the particulars of your case. I can help you, if you're willing to work with me."
"To what end?"
"That depends on you. What do you want to work towards?"
"I have been challenged, in the words of Doctor Kashar, to 'see what happens.' Perhaps after I have done that, I will know the answer to your question, if there is one."
"Fair enough. So are you willing to let me lead you through some basic exercises?"
Anekhet inclined his head in affirmation.
"Now before we start, you should understand that I am not intending to cause you undue discomfort or emotional trauma. This should not be something you must endure. If you start feeling unsure, or anxious, I want you to tell me immediately, and we will stop the exercise. Likewise, if I feel that the exercise needs to pause or stop, I expect you to follow my instructions. Do you agree to this?"
"I do."
"Excellent." She unfolded herself, standing again, about two meters from where he sat. "I'm going to take off my clothes, and I want you to watch me. Try to remain mindful of your thoughts and feelings while that is happening. The purpose of this exercise is for us to become more comfortable with each other in an intimate setting."
"That seems straightforward enough."
"It is." She smiled, and slowly undid the buttons of her suit jacket, slipped it off her shoulders, and laid it on a side table. Her motions were neither seductive nor shy, but completely comfortable and matter-of-fact. Her loose white blouse came off with similar ease and confidence, joining the jacket in a half-folded, half-rumpled pile. Underneath, she wore a white brassiere with just a bit of lace around the edges. The skirt came free after undoing just one clasp. She held onto it rather than letting it fall to the floor, and stepped out of it as she stepped out of her sensible black flats, revealing white underpants that matched her bra.
Anekhet could appreciate her beauty. Clearly, she took very good care of her body, and she was a well-shaped woman besides. Her breasts and hips had the generous curves that he had appreciated when alive. He felt a sort of meditative state come over him, and sat quietly as she went about her task.
The clasp between her breasts came free easily in her fingers, and her brassiere slid off her shoulders and onto the pile. Her full breasts hung a little lower without its support, but in spite of their size they did not droop appreciably. She slipped her underpants down over her posterior, let them drop down to her ankle, and then bent her knee to bring them up to her hand. Her vulva was trimmed but not completely shaved. She stood for a moment, letting him take in the sight of her naked body, then knelt down in her spot on the floor, with her hands held loosely in her lap. "Now tell me what you feel."
"You understand," he said, "That while I have a complete set of internal organs, none of them function. They are inert."
"Yes, I do."
"Then what I 'feel' is a product of pure mind. I felt none of the stirrings that a mortal man would have felt. I do, however, enjoy the sight of your body. You are a lovely woman."
"Thank you. Do you miss those 'stirrings'?"
"No. For the most part, they are a distraction from my purpose. But..."
"Please go on."
"I do speculate on what it would be like to touch you."
"Would you like to do that?"
"Yes. But not yet."
"Fair enough. Do you have any other thoughts or feelings?"
"I wish you were Khartee. I mean no disrespect, but I am most comfortable with my own people."
"Hopefully that is a barrier you and I can overcome."
Anekhet gave a half a nod. "Perhaps."
"If you're ready, I'd like you to take off your clothes as well."
"Will you tell me what you think?"
"If you like."
"Honestly."
"Mister Anekhet, I will never be anything less than completely honest with you."
"Very well."
Anekhet rose from the couch and undressed, starting from the top of his head and working his way down. The dark hood of fear closed around him, but as the concealing fabric fell away, he saw no revulsion in Amisi's face, nor pity, nor fear. No desire, either, but there was curiosity and perhaps even a little pride. When he was done, he returned to his cross-legged seat.
"I have some questions," she said. "Would it be okay to ask you?"
He made a circular gesture with his hand. "Yes."
"Why do you cover yourself with bandages?"
"For one, long strips of linen are the traditional garb of my order. For the other, I find it convenient for people who see me to assume that I am the victim of an accident. It is less horrific than to go without. I could use a disguise spell, or simply wear a long cloak with a deep hood, but those methods can fail, and I find there is comfort in the daily ritual of wrapping myself."
"I see. Another thing that came to mind, why don't you squeak when you move?"
"I use a powder to lubricate my skin where it meets. It helps keep down the wear and tear on my body. Among my brothers, friction is one of the greatest dangers. Gradually, over the course of centuries, it is what destroys us, so we move as little as possible. One of my purposes in trying out this new embalming technique, is to allow us more opportunity for movement."
She nodded. "One last question, and if it makes you uncomfortable, feel free not to answer."
"Completely honest, Miss bas-Akil."
"Of course." She smiled and gave a quick nod. "Why do you have an erection?"
Anekhet growled. "When I first discovered it, shortly after my transcendence, I believed it was a cruel joke by the man who had embalmed me. He told me that it was am unavoidable side effect of the plasticization process. To this day I do not know which is true." Anekhet closed his eyes, closing off the anger that still surrounded that particular issue. "So aside from filling you with questions, what else?"
"I think you look pretty good, for a dead man."
Anekhet opened his eyes to her smiling face. "I do not...creep you out is the phrase I believe?"
"Let me show you something." She rose and opened a cabinet, taking out some small objects and piling them in her arms. When she returned to her place, she laid them one by one on the floor between them. There was an anatomically correct phallus, a set of hips complete with a vulva, and a disembodied pair of breasts, all made of quivering silicone rubber. The vulva and breast were pink, but the penis was a deep, rich brown.
He gave her a questioning look.
"These items are sold as sex toys, but I use them in my practice to help familiarize certain clients with the parts of the body, when the client isn't ready to do so with a human partner. It helps with certain kinds of phobias."
"Sex. Toys." He could not imagine how the two words would go together.
"People use them as a substitute when a human partner isn't available, or when it would be too much trouble to find one, or," she shrugged, "Just because they feel like it." She picked up the phallus and Anekhet could see something like affection in her eyes, or if not affection, at least familiarity.
"So you see me as a walking, talking 'sex toy'." He wasn’t sure whether to be angry or amused.
"People are very complex creatures, Mister Anekhet. Clearly, there is great depth to your personality, and a sharp, clear, knowledgeable mind. All I'm saying is that there's a certain similarity, at least for me."
"Do you use these items?"
"As I said, they can be part of my practice."
"No, Miss bas-Akil. I mean privately."
She smiled. "I don't usually make my private life a subject of discussion during these sessions, Mister Anekhet."
"I am a curious being, Miss bas-Akil, especially about how I am perceived. Is the question not relevant?"
"I suppose you're right. Yes, I do use toys like these. My day is spent dealing with people who have deep emotional needs, people in difficult circumstances. Often, I need to move very slowly, overcoming fears that can leave their victim easily traumatized. Sometimes, people have unhealthy compulsions that need to be retrained. It can be exhausting. When my workday is over, I often find that what I need is a bit of self-indulgence. I actually have quite a collection. Does that answer your question?"
"Yes."
"Good. Then I'd like to start another exercise." She scooped up the sex toys and stood to return them to their place in the cabinet. "Again, the purpose here is to build trust and familiarity, except this time we will be using the sense of touch." She turned and held out her hand. "We'll do this one standing up."
Anekhet did not need her help to stand up, but he took her offered hand and rose to his feet. He was finally beginning to believe that Amisa was not actually repulsed by him, that her curiosity was genuine.
His mind drifted back to the summer solstice he had spent in the monastery's chamber of the sun. On that day only, of all the days of the year, would a ray of sunlight come through a stone shaft to illuminate the room. It had pleased him, after an entire year spent in near darkness, to feel the sun on his face.
Amisa's smile was like that.
"Mister Anekhet?" Her voice brought him back to the present.
"I'm sorry. My thoughts were elsewhere."
"It's okay. We'll go at whatever pace you feel comfortable." She took his hands and wrapped them around her waist, then reached up on his back, to pull him into a close embrace. "Your body is warm," she said.
"A simple spell that I learned in my youth. It can get cold in the desert, late at night."
"It helps. It helps me see you as a person, that you're warm." Her hands moved over his back, stroking lightly. "What do you think?"
"This is pleasant," he said. "I have not done this for a very long time." The words came slowly. He was thankful that he did not have the emotional reflexes that would make his throat choke or his voice tremble, because if he did, he would not have been able to speak at all.
They stood like that, bodies pressed together, for several silent minutes. He could feel the warmth building between them. "Are you too warm?" he said. "I can feel you perspiring a little."
"I'm not uncomfortable," she said, "But I suppose we should air out a bit."
They separated, and without exchanging more than a look, returned to their seated positions.
"I am glad we were able to do that," he said.
"So am I. Do you feel any better? That the craving you were feeling, is at all satisfied?"
"Somewhat. Though, if I were to leave now, I would be disappointed. Is there another exercise we can do?"
She chuckled. "Yes, of course. There's much more we can do. Is there anything in particular you would like?"
He paused a moment. "You should understand, before the ritual of transcendance, I worked and studied in the temple of the Ancient Masters, in the city of Kharteese. I started off merely doing chores for the more senior novices, but as I learned my duties became more important, until I was the one carrying messages into the desert to the monastery. Wife and family were not permitted to us, and dalliances with other novices were frowned upon."
"So you're saying that you don't have much experience with women."
"In an entirely too indirect way, yes. It's not easy for me to admit ignorance."
"Don't worry. I actually see quite a lot of that in my practice. Would you like to explore my body?"
"Yes, I would like that."
Amisa stood and stepped up to the couch. "Please, be my guest."
Still seated on the couch, he ran his fingers lightly over her shoulders, then down her breasts, watching the tips of her flat nipples harden under his touch. He felt their weight, pressed his fingers against their softness, squeezed them in his hands.
Moving down, he ran his fingers over her ribs, down over the soft skin of her belly, and around and down to the globes of her ass. He squeezed and pinched there, noting the contrast to her breasts; there was muscle there, hard muscle under the soft sub-dermal fat. He knew his anatomy, anyone from his order did, but this was an entirely different thing. A living, breathing, mortal body, with reflexes and reactions, he had almost never had the opportunity to touch anyone this way.
He remembered that quiet, furtive night with Djeseri, in the dark, dry stillness of his tiny apartment under the temple. The memory had been buried so long, it had become nothing more than a brittle husk. All he could remember was hurried pawing at clothes, kisses, moans, and desperate whispers, culminating in a moment of blissful, yet dangerously uncontrolled ecstasy, perhaps even madness.
And then the moment was gone.
He found himself leaned forward, his head held alongside Amisa's torso, hands running down over her thighs. The memory had been brief, but powerful.
Her hands ran over his bare scalp.
"Words cannot express how much this means to me, Miss bas-Akil."
"You can call me Amisa."
"Amisa."
He pulled back and looked up into her smiling face. He felt suddenly small and vulnerable, and a thought emerged, clawing its way out of the dark recesses of his mind. She is a mortal. She can never understand. She can never truly know. Anekhet tried to push it away, bury it again, but more rose to take its place. She is using you. She wants only your money. She wants your soul. She would destroy you if she knew.
"Mister Anekhet, I think we should switch for a bit. Maybe you could lie down?"
In spite of the doubts spinning in his mind, he nodded. She slipped out of his grasp and quickly pulled the cushion out from the other couch, laying the futon mattress out on the floor. He rolled down onto it, and stretched out his legs and crossed his hands over his chest.
She giggled. "Is that really the way you lie down?"
"What? Why is this funny? It is a traditional meditation posture."
Amisa quickly got control of herself. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have laughed. It's just... a little stereotypical, that's all. It's the pose we see in all the vids and things that come from Kharteese. You know. Statues and sarcophagi and things like that."
"I come from Kharteese."
"Exactly why I shouldn't have laughed. Are you comfortable that way?"
"Comfortable." He dropped his hands to his sides.
"Good." She took a small bottle from the cabinet and spread something on her hands. Then she stopped, and looked down with her head cocked slightly sideways. "Do you have a sense of smell?"
"No."
Her smile faded slightly. "Something you may want to take care of soon, I think." She knelt beside him, took one arm in her hands, and stroked his arm, her hands slicked with oil. It felt marvelous.
"Are you enjoying this?" he asked.
Her smile returned. "I am if you are. Are you?"
"I must confess that I am quite off-balance. This is nothing like what I expected, and I am at a loss to describe it. Enjoyment may be inaccurate. I find it..." he searched for a word. "Satisfying."
"Does it make you feel any better, that I'm a little off balance as well?"
"You?"
"Yes." She switched to his other arm. "For example, when I'm doing this exercise with mortal clients, I can usually find knots in their muscles to work out, physical ways to help them relax. But none of your muscles have any tension. Few of my techniques seem applicable."
"That may be," he said, "But it feels good anyways."
"I'm glad." She shifted down to kneel by his legs, replenished the lubrication on her hands, and began to give his legs the same treatment.
"My sense of touch is located primarily in my skin. Perhaps if you focus your attention there, rather than deeper down."
"Of course." She shifted her touch, changing the kneading strokes she had been using to a lighter, more fluid motion.
"That feels much better."
When she had finished covering his legs, she stood up and took the bottle of oil in her hand, then cocked her head again. "I have an idea. I think this one would be fun for both of us. It's a Yamatoan technique that I've always wanted to try."
"Please do."
She smiled broadly, revealing bright white teeth, and turned the bottle onto her chest, covering her breasts with oil. For a few seconds, she rubbed it vigorously over her body, then lowered herself on top of Anekhet, pressing their bodies together, chest to chest.
He arched an eyebrow. "Interesting..."
"Oh, we've only just started." She gripped the sheet on either side of him, then began sliding her body up and down, giving him a full-body massage with her breasts and belly and thighs.
Anekhet's stoic expression found the means for a smile. "Yes. This is most enjoyable." He brought his hands to her sides, letting her ribs and hips slide through them. "You don't ordinarily get to do this?"
"I'm too heavy for most clients. Not a problem for you, though, am I?"
"Not at all. Please continue as long as you like."
"You think this is...mm...funny." A distant look was coming to her eyes, and Anekhet could feel her becoming even warmer.
"I must admit..."
She chuckled, and then shifted her knees sideways, bringing her sex into closer contact with his. "I don't care if it's silly," she said. "It feels good."
"It does. I don't think I have ever felt anything as good as this." The full-body contact was an intense sensation, and if there were nagging doubts about their relationship, they didn't detract from it. He could even feel her quick, sharp breaths on his chest and face.
"I hope you..." She swallowed, closed her eyes, then suddenly stood up. "Mister Anekhet. I'm sorry. I'm being terribly unprofessional. I'm getting too wrapped up, too involved, and I'm losing touch with our goals." She shook her head, waving her hands as if fending off marauding insects.
"Amisa..."
"Nobody has ever affected me this way. I... don't know what it is. But..." She stared down into his eyes, a tear running down her face. "This is a terrible violation of my guild's ethics. I'm not supposed to be using you for my own issues."
"Amisa. You spend every day with people who need you in complicated ways. They are all wounded in one way or another, and you spend a great deal of energy evading the emotional and spiritual traps this life lays for you. Even if you were to spend time with one of your colleagues, there would still be complex exchanges of preference and power. Not something you necessarily have the energy for. And then here I am. My need is simple and straightforward. I do not need release, I do not need validation, I do not need training or discipline. I just need contact, with someone who enjoys being in contact with me. Your so-called unprofessional behavior is exactly what I want, and I am willing to give you what you want in exchange for it."
She lay down next to him. "You're a very wise being, Mister Anekhet."
"Anekhet. Call me--just Anekhet."
She sniffed and chuckled. "How about 'Annie'?"
His laugh came out as an amused hm. "No."
She let out a musical giggle that seemed out of place coming from a woman her size. "Well, if I'm going to be breaking the rules anyways, there's one more thing I would like to do."
"As I have already said, do whatever pleases you. You are satisfying my needs admirably. Go ahead and satisfy your own."
"Your muscles don't get cramped, right? No, of course not." She climbed to her feet. "How strong are you?"
"There are few mortals who can match the strength of one of my order, when we choose to exert ourselves."
"Oh, wonderful. Could you get on your knees?"
Anekhet scowled. "Excuse me?"
"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean...okay...um, I mean..."
"No, it is I who should apologize." He shook his head and rose to his knees. "I know it does not mean the same to you as it does to me."
"Thank you." She lowered herself onto him, guiding his cock inside her and kneeling on either side of his legs. "Mm. There. Now...if you can...hold me, and stand up."
"I think I see what you have in mind." Anekhet put his hands under her hips, got one foot under him, then the other. There was no strain in lifting her, nor in maintaining his balance. It was as easy as lifting the lid of a sarcophagus. She laughed out loud, holding his shoulders to keep steady. A bit of a bounce in her thighs gave him a great deal of enjoyment, but the sensation of being inside her was like opening a door to another world. It was as if every movement of her body were reflected, in microcosm, in her sheath, and then transmitted to him through his phallus. This wasn't just sex, it was mating, the commingling of essences. It was a closer and more profound touch than he could have imagined possible.
But in spite of all of that, it was the pure glee on her face he found himself savoring the most. A laugh bubbled up from his chest.
"You're perfect!" she shouted, tossing her head back and arching her spine. "Oh, this is incredible!"
"It feels that good?"
"It's not just your cock inside me... which feels mighty good by itself...mmm...it's being held up in midair and...oh...fucked! Oh, gods, can you go harder?"
Without a word he adjusted his grip and matched her movements with his own thrusts, causing her whole body to bounce in front of him. Rippling motions went through her chest and belly. She withdrew one hand from behind his neck, first to clutch at one rebounding breast, then to rub furiously at her clit. "More!" she gasped, sweat breaking out on her forehead, breathing harder and harder.
He felt the pulses of climax start inside her, then her whole body shuddered and she cried out in ecstasy. Not knowing entirely what to do next, he simply kept doing what he was doing, and after a few seconds he felt another shudder run through her, and then a third. When she was finally able to bring her head up to look at him, her eyes were desperate. "Enough. Oh, gods, enough!"
He laid her gently on the couch behind him. "I hope I have not injured you."
Still panting, she smiled weakly. "Oh, I'm going to be sore in the morning, but no... I'm not injured."
He lifted her feet to sit beneath them, and gently stroked her calf. "Thank you," he said.
"Oh, Anekhet," she said, reaching out to touch his hand. "Thank you."
"I suppose we are done for the evening, then?"
"Well, you're going to want to take a shower, unless you want to go out smelling like me. We can do that...whew...after I get my breath back." She rolled up to a sitting position and put her arm around Anekhet's shoulders. "Maybe you should get yourself a sense of smell next?"
"Hm. No doubt that will have its own set of desires that go along with it, as well. The sense of touch brought with it the need for human contact. No doubt the sense of smell will have a similar impact on me."
"Yes, such terrible things. A nice steak, a fine wine, incense..."
"Scented oils."
She chuckled. "Yes, scented oils." She rose and opened the door into her small bathroom. "Do you feel any better? That need for human contact?"
"It's not gone, if that's what you mean, but yes. It is better. The urge is satisfied, for now. Most people will still find me unsettling, but it's good to know that there is at least one soul in Metamor City who is willing to engage with me."