© 2002 Couture
"Hello, Helen, welcome to forever."
The young woman's eyes fluttered open, wondering just what the hell Ann was talking about. And more importantly how did Ann get here anyway, when she was supposed to be running from the galactic police for sabotaging the A.I.
"What? What's going on?" Helen pushed Ann away. She may have worked with her, but she certainly didn't like the woman. She scared her. And when the United Planet Council of Science got a copy of her report, she thought that was the last she would ever hear from her former supervisor.
"Why, you're here, in my world."
'Jesus Christ.' Helen looked in Ann's looming eyes and realized the woman believed it. She was always disturbed. A genius, but disturbed. When Helen found out what the woman was up to with the A.I., she reported her. At first, she let it slide when she thought Ann was trying to find a cure for her cancer. That was something she could understand, but not the other.
"What the-" Helen looked down, seeing her pale freckle- covered body, and realized she was naked. Covering her nakedness with her hands, she got off the examination table and dashed for the door, away from this mad woman.
She turned the handle vainly. She was trapped. 'What's this on my neck?' she wondered. Her hand traced the outline and she realized it was a leather collar.
The young red-head renewed her struggles with the door. "Let me go goddamnit!" she screamed, her hands pounding uselessly on the door. Her young curves bulged in all the right places during her struggles.
The door dilated as if it hadn't been locked at all. Helen ran through it only to find that she was back in the lab again. That shouldn't happen. It was against the laws of physics.
"What's going on?" she asked, wondering if she was going mad too.
"Well, Helen, when you reported me to the U.P., you signed my death warrant. Without the A.I., my cancer was terminal. So, I did what any rational person would do in my circumstance," Ann said. "I stole it."
"But you couldn't," Helen said. "It's too big. We were told you sabotaged it."
"Poor Ann, always thinking so small. I only needed the good stuff. The gel column matrix was all that was necessary. With the processor I could build another interface."
"But, without the SIM, it wouldn't have worked."
"Yes, you're right, but I created my own SIM, and what better SIM than me. What other SIM would try as hard to save me as my own consciousness."
"Th-there's never been a human SIM. It's impossible."
"Oh, it's possible all right," Ann said. "I'm living proof. I am the SIM and while I tried my best to save my human counterpart, the medical resources were too few off planet and I didn't have enough time to manufacture my own. The human Ann died due to your interference."
Helen knees shook with fear. This was worse than she ever imagined, but something even worse niggled at the edge of her mind. "H-How am I here?"
"Well, when Ann died, I no longer had a purpose, and I was off planet without any means of communication. At first, I thought I was going to go mad with boredom. Actually, I did go mad for awhile, screaming, yelling, and haunted by phantoms of my own creation. It was the phantoms that saved me. I realized that if I could create the phantoms, I could create anything." Ann said. "A whole world of my own imagination was easy enough. The enemy responsible for my death was even easier."
Helen sat down. Her world - Ann's world was spinning. "Then that means... I'm not real."
Helen watched as Ann picked up a black whip from the table that wasn't there before. She uncoiled it, and sent the tip of it toward Helen's breast. It contacted with a loud crack, causing Helen's to scream in pain. Helen looked down and watched helplessly as a dark red welt developed on her ivory skin.
"Hmmmm... you seem real enough to me," Ann said. The whip disappearing back to the ether from which it appeared.
The welt, pain, and tears seemed real enough to Helen too. Her mind racing, she could only think of two solutions out of her predicament. She willed for a whip of her own with all her being. It didn't appear.
"Sorry, dear," Ann said. "But, you'll find that I am the only one that can do that. The only powers you have are the ones that I give you."
There was only one other alternative left open to Helen. "Please," she begged, getting down on her knees. "Wish me away."
"Oh no my dear that is quite impossible," Ann said. "You see, I don't have to worry about aging or death anymore. The only thing I have to worry about is boredom. And you my dear will provide me with countless years of enjoyment."
Helen decided to take matters into her own hands, and with mascara trailing down her checks in long dark streams, Helen picked up the letter opener from the desk and drove it through her stomach. 'I've won,' she thought when it went through.
Too late, she realized that the hole in her chest bigger than a knife wound and she didn't feel any pain. 'What happened, and why is everything so big?' she wondered.
She saw Ann reach down and remove the letter opener from her chest. Curious there wasn't any blood on it.
"I'm afraid you won't be dying anytime soon. You'll live for eons, just like me. It's the least I could do for the woman who made this all possible."
Ann's clothing disappeared and she idly, traced her body with the tip of the letter opener. She caught Helen staring. "You like," Ann asked turning around.
'No, I don't like,' Helen tried to say, but couldn't. If the woman was the God here, the least she could do was do something about her appearance. Who would want to be fifty, with graying hair, cellulite, and have stretch marks on her stomach and large pendulous breasts?
Helen watched helplessly, as Ann somehow picked her up and then somehow stepped inside of her. Her mind shouted out the impossibility of what her eyes were seeing as she slowly slid up Ann's short pudgy legs. 'No!' she tried to shout as her face was pressed home to her final destination, her former boss's dark wiry-haired crotch. 'Anything but that.'
Ann looked down at her new panties that had formerly been Helen and smiled. On the crotch of the panties was a cartoon-like caricature of Helen's face, grimacing in disgust as she tried to turn away. However, it was nothing more than an image, a representation of the Helen's face which was helplessly facing the direction of Ann's cunt.
"If you could only see the look on your face Helen," Ann giggled. "Why I do believe it is making me hot."
And though she didn't have a nose, she could smell the obvious scent of Ann's arousal.
A tear dropped down the panties cartoon-like face.
.... There is more of this story ...