XPost: alt.romance, alt.guns, soc.women   
   XPost: soc.men, alt.philosophy   
   From: ibshamlat@gmail.com   
      
   I stole my brother Simon's Tangerine. His security   
   wasn't exactly bomb-proof; he'd been using the same   
   password since he was thirteen. Father was away at the   
   wars; Mother was out doing her Good Work, Simon was   
   courting; and the servants had all been sent home for   
   the night. If ever the coast was going to be clear, it   
   was now.   
      
   I punched it into the alpha-numeric tumblers he'd   
   installed on his closet door about the same time he'd   
   started sprouting body hair and his voice had cracked.   
   T-r-i-X-X-X-i-e was the name of the main character in   
   his favorite pornographic serial. He'd had a manic   
   crush on her for the first year or so of his   
   adolescence, and I had followed her erotic adventures   
   with a mixture of horror, fascinated disgust, and   
   titillated lust.   
      
   I'd been breaking into Theo's closet to snoop around   
   his pornographic picture-novels for about as long as   
   I'd know what pornography is, and what to do with it.   
   Trixxxie, with her impossible breasts and cartoonish,   
   generic features, wasn't something I masturbated to,   
   but she had taught me all I'd ever wanted to know –   
   and then some — about the mechanical aspects of sex.   
   And there were plenty more picture-novels for me to   
   peruse.   
      
   I had whiled away many hot_and sticky hours locked in   
   Simon's closet with a dirty_picture-novel in one hand   
   and one finger busy between my legs. Eventually I'd   
   discovered that I preferred to get off to the written   
   word, and I had acquired some erotic novellas of my   
   own. I still came back to visit Simon's closet now and   
   then. But I'd never actually removed anything. I told   
   myself I was just 'borrowing' it, even though I had   
   already downloaded an entire new (and pirated) ROM.   
      
   The Tangerine was a hand-held tubular little Turing   
   machine, designed with one purpose only: to serve as a   
   pleasure envelope for a lonely penis. I didn't have a   
   penis myself, but my own parts were just as lonely as   
   could be. The ROM I'd illicitly downloaded was   
   supposed to modify the thing's operating system to   
   suit my 'more feminine needs'.   
      
   It sort of reminded me of an exotic weapon out of one   
   of Simon's futurist graphic novels: it was black and   
   plastic, fit nicely in the palm of your hand, and the   
   backside had a small array of buttons above a keyhole   
   for winding and a USB slot. If it weren't for the   
   anatomically-correct pussy in front, it would have   
   been the exact sort of thing a space-zeppelin officer   
   might wield, shooting energy beams at the enemy or   
   projecting a laser whip. The front part was a   
   different, softer material, sculpted to form a   
   realistic pink plastic vulva. It looked like something   
   straight out of an anatomy textbook, the kind of thing   
   that budding gynecologists might practice exams on. It   
   came with a large brass key.   
      
   Josephine had gotten a Schlong from one of her 'secret   
   admirers', and it was (in her words) "incredibly fan-   
   fucking-tastic!!" I wasn't about to buy one of my own.   
   I didn't have a well-heeled Admiration Society of my   
   own; neither did I have that kind of sterling in the   
   bank. Anyway, the Schlong was pretty intimidating: a   
   big black polymer cock, realistically molded, and   
   studded with knobs and sensors, packing nearly eight   
   pounds of gears and clockwork. I wasn't ready for   
   that. I wasn't sure I'd ever be ready for that.   
      
   He'd never miss it, I told myself. My heart rate shot   
   through the roof as I slinked back to my own room, the   
   stolen Tangerine clasped in my greedy, sweaty hands.   
   Simon had a real girlfriend now, prissy Miss Violet   
   Verne, and he wouldn't be needing wind-up toys   
   anymore. He'd never even notice it was gone. Anyway,   
   he would be graduating soon, and beginning his   
   compulsory service, and I doubted they'd let him bring   
   that particular item along with him to the wars.   
      
   Back in the privacy of my own room, my jitters swiftly   
   transformed from 'nervous' into 'horny'. I was dying   
   to try out my brand-new ill-gotten contraption. I'd   
   never masturbated with anything but my fingers before,   
   and if my friend Jo was telling anything like the   
   truth, this was going to be intense.   
      
   I plugged in the data stick with the pirated ROM into   
   the slot in the back of the Tangerine. A couple   
   million microswitches rearranged their configuration,   
   but nothing appeared to happen. The thing just sat   
   there on my dresser, a sullen pink-and-black lump. I   
   pulled out the key, and wound it up until the master   
   spring clicked. It took a surprising number of turns   
   to wind up. I counted 128 turns before it finally   
   clicked.   
      
   I stripped out of my petticoats, garters, and   
   knickers, and sprawled across my bed. The pink polymer   
   vulva seemed to stare at me in my nakedness. It looked   
   disturbing from this angle, almost alien. Did my   
   private parts really look like that, when viewed head-   
   on and in the abstract?   
      
   I reached over and grabbed my novella, flipping to a   
   dog-eared corner that marked a particularly steamy   
   bit. I read the words, but I was having trouble   
   concentrating on them. Even so, the pornographic text   
   did the trick; I felt my pussy getting wet_and swollen   
   with excitement. I put the book down, and pressed the   
   central button on the back of Simon's Tangerine.   
      
   The clockwork clicked and hummed almost inaudibly as   
   the gears inside came to life. When I held it in my   
   hand, it seemed to tremble, as if it were alive. The   
   thing generated its own heat. The artificial pussy   
   pouted open, like a blooming flower, and clear   
   lubricant started to seep out. I jammed it between my   
   legs, mashing the polymer pussy against my own flesh-   
   and-blood, and the thing vibrated with a fierce   
   intensity.   
      
   Jo was right. It was absolutely fan-fucking-tastic. I   
   almost couldn't stand it, but I rode the wave,   
   squeezing the humming Tangerine between my thighs. I   
   came almost immediately, hard, curling up into a fetal   
   ball and hiccupping with pleasure. I had to take a   
   break then, my parts were suddenly way too sensitive.   
   I paused the machinery and read some more of my smutty   
   book, until I was ready to go again. And go again I   
   did, until I was spent and limp. Each orgasm seemed to   
   me the best one I'd ever had, and it seemed like   
   they'd never stop. Already, I was asking myself how   
   I'd ever gotten by without a Tangerine of my own.   
      
   The only distraction was that it kept calling out his   
   name. "Oh Simon, fuck me!" "Oh Simon you're so big and   
   hard!" "Oh Simon yes, do it now!" Whatever programming   
   my sketchy ROM had overwritten, apparently my   
   brother's name was hard-written into its BIOS. I   
   didn't mind so much. It was easy enough to ignore.   
      
   When I was really and truly done, I wiped the pink   
   polymer clean and wound it up again before I went to   
   sleep, leaving the thing safe in my top dresser drawer   
   buried under my dainties, the big brass key lying   
   beside it. I slept restlessly, and had murky, sexy,   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)