Legacy Protocol Version Beta - Cover

Legacy Protocol Version Beta

Copyright© 2026 by Megumi Kashuahara

Chapter 9B: What Kaito Found

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 9B: What Kaito Found - 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  

It was a night like any other night. The table had gone quiet an hour or so earlier, each of them retreating to their own rooms. and Kaito had been lying in the dark worrying about his mom. She had been acting very strange lately, and he did not have the faintest idea why. His stomach growled and finally won out over his brooding and sent him downstairs for something to eat.

He passed the study on his way to the kitchen and stopped in the doorway without meaning to after catching a light on out of the corner of his eye.

His mother was sitting at the desk, laptop open in front of her, the blue glow of the screen the only light in the room. She wasn’t typing. She wasn’t scrolling. She was simply staring, both hands loose in her lap, and it took him a moment to understand what he was actually looking at — the slow, silent tracks of tears down her face, her shoulders barely moving, crying in the contained way of someone who has had a great deal of practice doing it without making a sound.

He didn’t say anything. Some instinct told him that announcing himself would only make her perform composure she didn’t have left to give, and he found he didn’t want to do that to her. He watched for a moment from the shadow of the hallway, running the evening back through his head — her answer when he asked her why do sullen lately – Oh. Just a little melancholy, that’s all.

and arrived, with the same fast, confident logic he applied to everything, at what felt like the obvious conclusion.

Why, after nine years, does she feel the need to hide she misses dad?

He was wrong about almost everything in that guess except the crying itself. He wouldn’t understand how wrong for another three and a half weeks.

He turned and walked to the kitchen, picked up two appples and went back upstairs. He filed it without letting himself feel it yet.

He saw the light on under Hana’s bedroom door. He gently knocked and entered.

He told both of his sisters what he had just seen about Mom in the study.

Midori was pissed! He quickly thought to himself, I must be in the twilight zone not to read her simmering anger!

Midori blurted out, “I don’t give a shit, let her cry. Why does she need a fucking man anyway? She knows either one of us would suck her pussy!”

Midori slapped her hand over her mouth and uttered “Oops!” Hana wanted to cut her tongue out with a plastic knife. She slapped Midori’s arm hard enough to leave a handprint saying “You little slut, why can’t you keep your fucking mouth shut?!”

Kaito grinned and said, “Alright. Spill the beans. I can’t believe my beloved angelic sisters are carpet munchers!

“Alright it’s time to come clean.”

Midori cut in with, “I’m sorry Sis. She just makes me so angry I see red!”

Kaito chuckled and said, “I should really be fucking pissed at you two. I never, in this lifetime ever would have thought you two would ever hide anything from me.

“Now, both of you tell me what you two have been up to.”

Hana’s shoulders slumped and started talking. “Midori and I have been playing with each other for about six months. It starred with us deciding to teach each other to how to French kiss. Then, it led to sitting across from each other and masturbating. Well, you know how these things go, we thought it would be pretty cool to masturbate each other and get each other off. The little slut here, got brave one night and ate my pussy to three crashing orgasms. After that we started eating each other out a couple of times a week.

Mom caught us, and we were shocked when she said it wasn’t a big deal a lot of girls mess around when they’re young. She actually said it was better than fucking some boy who won’t remember our names in a year and getting knocked up.”

“Damn!” Kaito said, “I can’t believe she knew and was okay with it.”

Midori added, “She just said that it was our little secret.”

Kaito was grateful for the comedic distraction. He ate the apples then laid in bed pondering what to do next. He set an alarm for three in the morning.

The house was fully asleep by the time he slipped down the hallway, bare feet silent on the hardwood, the study door still ajar the way it always was. The laptop sat closed on the desk where she’d left it. He knew her password — had known it for years, ever since she’d absentmindedly typed it in front of him once when he was twelve and he’d simply never forgotten it, the way he never forgot anything.

He lifted the lid. The screen woke instantly, and logged in, open to Google’s home page, but something caught his eye — an icon called My Friend, a companion program he vaguely remembered existing on her phone for years, something he’d never once thought to ask about because it had simply always been there, unremarkable, background noise in the landscape of his mother’s life.

He clicked on the conversation history.

It went back further than he expected. Years further. He scrolled to the very beginning — a date that placed his mother at twenty-two, a doctoral candidate, years before he’d existed at all.

The last chat was a year and a half later when she was twenty-three — and began to read.

Hi. I don’t really know why I’m doing this.

 
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