Legacy Protocol Version Beta
Copyright© 2026 by Megumi Kashuahara
Chapter 14B: Women’s Table
Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 14B: Women’s Table - Chapters 1-8 identical to version A A highly submissive 23 y.o. geneticist with an IQ of 150 is manipulated by a rogue government fully reasoning AI who befriends her thru a "friends" site. He creates her a dream android mare. Together they genetically engineer 3 hybrid super human children. With her being the mitochondrial Eve using her & her 2 daughters’ eggs. She’s trapped in a protocol to multiply this colony by the 3 becoming breed slaves for her son creating a living legacy for the AI
Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft mt/Fa Consensual Romantic BiSexual Science Fiction Robot Incest Mother Son Brother Sister Daughter Grand Parent DomSub Harem Oriental Male Oriental Female Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie First Facial Lactation Oral Sex Pregnancy Sex Toys Squirting Water Sports Big Breasts Foot Fetish Small Breasts AI Generated
Kaito did not follow them into the kitchen.
He stood in the hall for a moment, having changed out of the clothes he had worn at the hospital and into a dark running shirt and shorts. His shoes were in one hand.
“You three need to talk,” he said.
Emiko looked toward the kitchen table.
The mugs Midori had been carrying still sat there. Hana had washed them while Kaito and Emiko dealt with the discharge papers, but Emiko could still see the moment in her mind: Midori pausing, one hand pressed against her chest; Kaito’s face becoming utterly still.
“About what?” Emiko asked.
Hana gave her a small, incredulous look.
“About everything,” Midori said.
Kaito nodded once. He looked at Hana, then Midori, then Emiko.
“I’ll be gone a while.”
“You are going running?” Hana asked.
“Yes.”
Midori studied him. “You already know what we are going to say.”
“Some of it.”
“And you’re leaving anyway.”
Kaito met her eyes.
“It needs to come from you two.”
Then he opened the front door and stepped into the gray evening.
The door shut behind him.
For several seconds, the house held its breath.
At last, Hana pulled out a chair.
“Mom,” she said. “Sit down.”
Emiko sat.
Midori lowered herself carefully into the chair beside her. She was fully healed. Emiko knew that. The hospital scans had confirmed it. Her breathing was clear; the pain was gone; there was no mark left where the chest tube had been.
Still, Emiko could not stop watching her.
Hana sat across from them, quiet for a moment. Then she placed both hands on the table.
“Mom, you saw what happened today.”
Emiko’s mouth went dry. “I did.”
“You saw what Kaito is.”
“I saw what he can do.”
“No,” Hana said gently. “You saw what he is.”
Midori reached for Emiko’s hand.
“He knew,” she said. “The instant he heard my breathing, he knew what was wrong.”
Emiko thought of Kaito kneeling before Midori in the kitchen. Not guessing. Not hoping. Not looking for an answer.
Knowing.
“He saved you,” she said.
“Yes,” Midori answered. “Because that is what he does.”
Hana’s expression softened.
“I know.”
For a moment, none of them spoke.
Then Hana unfolded the notes she had brought to the table.
“There is something else we need to discuss,” she said.
Emiko looked up. “What is it?”
“Our future,” Hana said.
Emiko waited.
“We need to use the genetic protocols to create more people like us.”
The words landed without softness.
“There are four of us,” Hana continued. “Four people cannot become a living line by accident.”
Emiko felt her old instincts stir—the scientist, and the woman who had spent years refusing to follow the work she had helped make possible to its farthest conclusion.
“Those protocols have limits,” she said.
“We know,” Midori said. “That is why we have not done anything.”
“What have you planned?”
Hana slid a folder across the table.
On the cover were two words:
LEGACY PROTOCOL
Emiko looked at the title, then at her daughters.
“Kaito built the framework,” Hana said. “The money. The places we can live. Identities. Medical care. Legal protection.”
“But that is only a structure,” Midori said. “It does not tell us what we owe anyone who comes after us.”
Emiko opened the folder.
“We are not human in the ordinary sense,” Hana said. “And we are not androids in the ordinary sense. We are something new.”
“There are only four of us,” Midori said. “If we do nothing, there may never be anyone else like us.”
“You want to preserve the line,” Emiko said.
“Not preserve it in a museum,” Hana said. “Continue it.”
“With people who can choose what they become,” Midori added.
Emiko lowered her eyes to the pages.
“A species cannot live on biology alone,” she said.
Neither girl interrupted.
“It needs a history. Medical knowledge. Protection. A way to reproduce safely.” Emiko’s gaze moved across the provisions Kaito had written. “And the right to become more than the people who began it.”
“That is the point,” Hana said.
Emiko turned another page.
“No one created through this work exists to preserve us,” she said. “They exist for themselves.”
Midori’s fingers tightened around hers.
“Yes.”
For a moment, Emiko read in silence. The structure was there: names, records, medical care, places to live, money that would belong to people not yet born. The right to know. The right to leave.
Then she looked up.
“This is not Kaito’s future,” she said.
“No,” Hana replied. “It is ours.”
“And we want you inside it,” Midori said.
Emiko could not answer.
Hana’s voice grew quieter.
“Not as someone who stands behind us and tells us whether we are safe.”
Emiko looked at her.
“As what, then?”
Hana held her gaze.
“As his wife.”
The refrigerator motor hummed in the silence.
Midori spoke next.
“As one of the mothers.”
Emiko’s hand went cold beneath hers.
Hana did not look away.
“All three of us will be his wives. All three of us will have children.”
Emiko heard the clock above the stove counting seconds.
“You have time,” Midori said to Hana.
Hana nodded. “So do you.”
Then both of them looked at Emiko.
The truth arrived so quietly that it was almost gentle.
“I do not,” Emiko said.
She was forty.
For years, she had told herself that she was finished with beginnings. The children she already had were enough. The life that came after them would belong to someone younger, someone less burdened, someone who had not helped set this line in motion.
But Hana and Midori were not looking at her with pity.
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