Cherry Girl (erotic/ erotica) by Candy Dance
*Short Story (approx 20,000 words)
"Cherry-girl" is from the future of sexual cyborgs and not many men. Where Lisette takes fate into her hands by masquerading as a sex ‘bot' with the intentions of trying to have a baby. But her new master, and real hunk of a man, Rider, has no idea that his new virgin-maiden model cyborg is real. And she scheming her own destiny with his sperm.
Warning: This story contains hot, explicit love scenes, coerced dinner making, high heeled pink ankle boots. Light BDSM play. Master/slave play. Tender and forceful his/her oral sex. Energetic nookie over the hood of a classic Mustang. Coerced stripping. Sexy loving in zero-gravitation chamber, plus be prepared to laugh.(hea)
*Publishers Note: This short story is previously published in Future Fantasies Volume One*
Molded to my pleasure, huh? “I’m going to name you, Cherry, and you will call me Master, unless I give you permission to call me by my name, Rider.”
“Yes, Master,” Cherry replied, with a pink blush moving down her slender throat.
“Too real,” Rider muttered. Still, he found himself wondering if he could make those beautiful melon-shaped breasts of hers turn pink.
“Well . . . ,” Rider mumbled as he cleared his throat. He’d like to strip her naked now and get a good look, but six months was a long time and he knew it was best to keep his pace slow in the beginning. “All right then, go fix my dinner and bring it to me in the control room, Cherry.”
“Dinner!” Cherry squeaked, raising her eyes to him with a startled gaze.
Rider was surprised to see that Cherry’s eyes were a smoky gray with lavender highlights, quite beautiful and it seemed quite intelligent. Christ, they usually made the sexual bots dumber than dirt. Smart and a virgin? Rider realized an anticipation building inside of himself that he'd not felt in years. Not since he’d had his first sexual bot experience on his first run. They said that a man always fell in love with his first bot . . . and he had.
He’d been just a callow kid then, who could help it? It had been his first sexual encounter, even though it was a sex bot. He’d learned his lesson though, after the heartbreak of that unreality. A man doing his kind of work just spent too many years alone. Maybe it was time to retire? He had enough money saved now and he wasn’t sure what kept him doing this work.
“Yes, Cherry, . . . dinner . . . in an hour. In the control room.”
Rider heard the answering demure, “Yes, Master,” as his strides took him out of the cubicle into the corridor.
“Dinner?” Lisette muttered. “I didn’t know sexual cyborgs had anything to do with dinner!”
Maybe they were programmed for it, Lisette thought, and what did she know about cooking food on a technological Mecca like this ship? She'd never seen so many doodads and gadgets. Darn, this ruse could be harder to pull off than she’d thought! It had seemed like such a brilliant idea when she’d first conjured it up. She, a human woman, posing as a sexual cyborg to get pregnant.
Men were so hard to find out on the rim of space. A woman just had to be clever. All the cargo carriers, who were men, shunned taking real women on their lengthy space voyages. There were stories about real-life murders a half-century ago when they had tried it, and it was not always the women who were in their last death throes at the end of the voyage.
“Men,” Lisette grumbled as she tried to turn her body in the direction in which she presumed the kitchen attachment to be, except that the skin-tight spandex she wore was anything but resilient. She moved down the cramped companionway like a pasted-up stick figure. Darn, she could not even bend her elbows.
She had put on the gut-tight garment, figuring to firm up and refine any small shapely flaws she might have. Heavens, sex bots were perfect! It was one of those stumbling points, of many, her sister Leah had pointed out along the way. When she took the suit off, perfection would fall.
“Not terribly,” Lisette reassured herself. “I’m still young!”
Only she'd envisioned this man Rider, who by the way was not the lithe blond with swirling blue eyes with whom she thought this postal journey was contracted. She thought that he would be in the throes of passion when she disrobed. Or at least that it would be in the dark. She understood that men and women made love in the dark. However, this man Rider had a masculine virility that she'd never have comprehended, had she not seen him in person.