Chapter 2

Cord Bannister had a surprise for America. While the nation went crazy with the buying and selling of robots and using them in more mechanical jobs, his research went off in a slightly different direction.

Cord was the son of a famous biologist at Harvard-West, and when he brought his project to Nelson Harper, Nelson listened. The Smart Suit idea, like the robot idea, was a project whose time had come - which meant that it should've been invented years ago if most corporations weren't so frightened of really new advances.

The A-C board wanted to concentrate on robots - with a difference. They knew however that even in the sophisticated America of the 1990's there was going to be some objections to robots that did everything. It was always possible that machine-enhanced sex might lead them into big trouble. Therefore, they went along with Nelson and his Smart Suit project as a hedge.

There was a real rivalry between Cord and Nancy Lyons, which pleased Nelson, but he knew he'd have to move carefully in not favoring either. Cord, thirty two, bright, handsome, virile and aggressive, was an even match for the woman engineer and if they ever got at each other's throats, the fur would fly. So he balanced things carefully.

Cord had his spies in Nancy's group, just as she had in his group. That morning Cord got the report that Nancy's lab was cleared and a final test on Big Sam was under way.

Cord knew that the president and the board were meeting that afternoon, so he judged that the robot project was going to be reported as finished. It was up to him not to be caught lacking. He would have to test his Smart Suit today as well, and force Nelson to carry the news of its success to the meeting.

What frustrated him right at the moment was not his invention, but the human element. Getting the thiing tested. For that Cord had chosen Marybelle Fletcher, one of his newest lab assistants, and also the best looking. The blonde had a luscious little body, stood five-four and broadcast waves of unconscious sexuality. The problem was she'd been married recently, and she just wasn't going to put on a Smart Suit and let him test the sex results on her. Yet he was determined that she and no other would carry the good news to Harper.

"Marybelle, I want you to put on this lower half of the SS," he told the girl.

She looked at what he held out to her, a pair of pantyhose, it seemed, that was completely transparent.

"Oh, Mr. Bannister, I couldn't take off my clothes in the lab. My husband would never allow that."

"You put them on," he said patiently. "Then you put on your jumpsuit over that."

"Mr. Bannister, it's lunch time and all the other girls are gone. I want to go too. Could somebody else do it - after lunch?"

"No," he said firmly. "It'll only take a minute."

"But the SS has something to do with sex," she protested. "My husband wouldn't..."

Trickery was called for. It had to be that luscious body, husband or no husband.

"The SS does lots of things, Mrs. Fletcher. It cleans the body with ultrasonics. No water required. It helps you walk - it moves your legs for you. The top part broadcasts all kinds of useful stuff to your brain, keeps you out of trouble, protects your body in accidents."

"This test... doesn't have anything to do with sex?" she asked.

"Would I ask that of a nice young girl who was recently married and loves her husband?" he asked sweetly.

She looked doubtful. The other girls in Cord's lab had told her that promotions and raises came fast if you did what the boss wanted. None of them ever complained that he approached them sexually. It was probably all right.

"Well, if I can have the extra time added to my lunch hour."

"No problem, Marybelle."

She went into the Ladies, stripped and slid in the "pantyhose" that was the bottom part of the Smart Suit. When the top zipped on, it became a transparent leotard covering the whole body from shoulders to toes. Located in the seams were dozens of microcircuits, cleverly hidden and capable of performing many functions. All you had to do was to know which switches to touch. A human in a Smart Suit was a super person with a five fold increase in muscle power. You could walk or run for miles without fatigue, lift heavy loads, resist any weapon. Sensing attack, it even cut down the damage of bullets. It was impervious to fists, knives or smacking instruments. You could not be mugged in a Smart Suit.

It also warmed or cooled the body as desired, cleaned it with ultrasonics, without water and became an aesthetic pleasure by changing its colors from transparent through the whole spectrum. Cord liked to call it a total environment, because with the top added it broadcast a series of messages to the brain from tiny information matrices that stored whole libraries of information.

Marybelle did not concern herself with all of that as she slipped into the bottom part. She thought it looked sexy, adding its transparent gloss to her skin as if she were wrapped in see-through plastic.

It fit skin-tight and really showed off her considerable attributes, fore and aft. Chuckling at her half-shining body, she started to reach for her clothes when a strange thing happened. There seemed to be a bunching of the material between her legs. Now, activated by some sensor, she felt a rush of the material right up into her privates, like a snake finding its nest.

She gave a gasp as the material peeled right up into her cunt, protecting that as well. For an instant she felt a stab of sexuality. But though she stood frozen, nothing else happened. In seconds it was as if material was not forced up inside of her. It was all right. Confidently she dressed and returned to the empty lab.

Cord sat at one of the control panels that dotted the lab, a slight frown of concentration on his face as he stared off into space.

"Uh... I've got it on," she reported.

"Oh, yes, Marybelle." He acted as if he'd forgotten she were there. He picked up a small black box attached to a cord and looped it around her neck like a necklace, the box hanging like a pendant at her throat.

"You understand that in normal operation the suit runs itself," he told her. "Here in the lab I broadcast signals to it through that computer control on your neck. If you had the top of the SS on, you wouldn't need that."

She nodded and he told her he wanted to try out some standard tests. The first one was to make the suit walk for her. He tapped some controls and the legs of the suit carried her down the lab without any effort on her part.

"Fantastic!" she cried. "It's just like floating. I don't have to do anything at all."

He walked her back towards him and turned on the ultrasonics cleaner. She felt a slight vibration from her hips down; suddenly she knew the lower part of her body was CLEAN, as if she'd stepped sparkling from the shower. Somewhere near the ankle a small vent discharged almost unnoticeable puffs of dry powder.

"That's terrific!" she said.

It was the first time she'd had on even a part of the SS which she began to like. She skipped around the lab, letting the thigh and calf action of the SS do the walking for her. It was a glorious feeling of being able to skim over the ground without any effort at all.

The lab was almost one hundred feet long with work benches for tiny electronics parts, molders, trimmers, outlets for gas, air and water, and great rolls of duroplast, the transparent, silky material used in the SS. She flowed through the aisles, humming happily. She learned at once that if she moved her legs faster, the suit helped her walk faster. If she slowed down, there was a second of resistance and then the sensors of the suit slowed it down to the pace she wanted. That part alone sold her on Cord's invention.

Suddenly Marybelle felt the control of her legs taken away from her as Cord punched some buttons and the legs of the suit made her march back to where he sat at the control panel. It was that little black box he'd hung around her neck.

She felt uneasy about this, but he smiled a disarming smile and said: "I just want to show you how the suit protects you."

He clenched a fist and took a terrific swipe at her belly. She gasped and winced as she saw the awesome blow coming. The suit was quicker. Acting with nanosecond speed, it shot out energy to protect the wearer. The fist never landed. Deflected, the fist shot off to one side almost pulling Cord from his chair. He laughed at the expression on her face as she felt only a light tap where the blow might've landed. It was hardly a finger flick.

"Fantastic!" she breathed.

He grabbed a two foot long metal rod and tried to spank her full force across her rounded buttocks. The blow never landed. The rod shot to one side and flew from his hand at the sudden deflection. Again she felt only a slight tap on her rear.

Growling, he seized a knife and tried to stab her right in the belly. She screamed.

The tip of the knife broke as the suit reacted and her leg, driven by the suit, not her, kicked out and sent the knife flying high in the air. Once again, she felt nothing.

"You see?" he said.

"Oh, Mr. Bannister, this is truly a great invention."

"There's plenty more."

He punched another button and worked a rheostat. Instantly Marybelle felt her body relax. Her mind seemed to turn to flowing honey, euphoric and pleased. Cord was her best friend in the world. The lab was the greatest place on earth to be right now.

She felt hot in her clothes. She had to take them off. She didn't want to, exactly but she HAD to. Off came her blouse, while she stepped out of her boots and slacks, reducing herself to her panties, her bra, and, of course, the gleam of the SS pantyhose.

"I... I..." she went.

She felt so confused. It felt great to take off, her clothes. It was important to take off her clothes. Yet a resisting part of her told her she shouldn't strip in front of her boss.

"Don't you think I'm good looking?" she said. "Don't you think I'm s- s-sexy?"

She turned around displaying her body. She wanted to stop displaying herself in this bawdy fashion, but she wanted to get more of that honey cream feeling, too.

"I'll bet you want to f-f-fuck me," she stammered.

It was a word she NEVER used, a shocking word she wouldn't even let her hot, loving husband use. Yet the instant she said it, things happened. Something came alive between her legs, up in her cunt. She felt a glorious warmth spread to her sex parts, making her juices flow and her cunt swell. She felt hot, sexed up.

"I... I... I..."

"The bra, Marybelle," said Cord.

"Oh, I cou... cou... not," she went.

She knew it was that black box at her neck. She tried to lift it off of her neck, but her hands deflected. Instead they scrambled to her bra catch and she unhooked the bra. She exposed her full, naked breasts to Cord, standing there pigeon-toed like a confused, helpless little girl. Her hands went up to cup those gorgeous twin mounds, which were hard- nippled, and presented them to Cord. She blushed. She felt tremors of hot desire all through her body.

"The panties, Marybelle."

"The panties," she gasped. She wanted to scream "NO!". She wanted to turn and run from the lab and the staring man. But the sweet honey excitement inside of her was too powerful. She slipped off her panties, revealing her pink, wet cunt under a thatch of blonde pubic hairs.

"Put your hand down below and make yourself feel good, Marybelle," said Cord.

She had to do it. Her hand slid over the glossy, transparent suit and fondled inside of her cunt. At once she locked her legs on her finger and thrilled as she rubbed her clitoris through the suit material.

"Do you ever masturbate, Marybelle?"

"NO, NEVER," she cried.

"Well, maybe now's a good time to learn," he said. He gave the direct order. "I want you to excite yourself as far as you can."

It was fantastic. She'd never felt so sexed up in her life. She used one and then two fingers inside of her cunt, her heart pumping in excitement, reveling in displaying her sexuality to this forbidden man and yet shamed that she wanted to do it.

She arched up her loins and moaned in deep pleasure as her belly caught fire. She knew the suit did something to her sex parts. The sleeve that had wormed up into her cunt provided a hardness and a slight motion just like - just like - well, a COCK! Her fingers added pleasure.

"Ah," she went. "Oh, hah!"

Cord thought she was the sexiest sight he'd ever seen. Her rounded, blonde body was a fabulous thing to behold. Her high, perfect tits were bold in exposure and red with excitement, nipples flexed hard. Her soft, graceful torso showed a fast beating heart above her belly. Her abdomen was ever so slightly swelled, suggesting loin richness of a nubile female. Her V was exquisite, as were her tapered thighs and legs. Add a pretty, if not intelligent, face up above with an incredibly shapely little ass down below and she was a rich little fuck animal - there was no other way to say it.

He got up from his chair to take off his pants and relieve his aching hard-on. He slid out of his shorts so that he wore only his socks and short white lab coat. He was a little dizzy now with desire to plunge into that rich body and pillage her charms.

He sat back down in the chair which did not have arms.

"Come here, Marybelle." He touched a control.

Her legs did not move. The suit moved her legs as she came to stand before him, red-faced in excitement and embarrassment, her fingers still hooked under her pelvic ridge as commanded.

He pulled her fingers away. "We'll try something else," he said. He could not help teasing her a little. Marybelle belonged to that group of rich-bodied, sex capable young women who constantly denied their sexuality and insisted they were nice girls with never a carnal thought in their heads while all the time they screwed their brains out with some guy. If they were honest and admitted that they turned guys on and turned themselves on, he wouldn't have minded. He hated hypocrisy.

"I think you want me to fuck you, Marybelle," he told her. He pulled her to his lap where his big cock jutted up, hard and hungry.

"Oh, no, I... I WANT TO FUCK," she wailed.

"At last, reality," he smiled.

He pulled her unresisting body onto his lap, relishing the body heat of the sexed-up girl. He fitted his prick to her cunt, protected by the sleeve of the suit, and fucked up into her body. She oozed down on his cock gasping as he penetrated deep into her vagina.

"Oh, I... Ohhhhh," she gasped.

He dug hands into her soft nude flesh, enjoying the feel of total girl. How many times had he fantasized this moment? She was just too luscious for men to resist such thoughts. Her hot cunt felt fabulous along his prick. Her wetness seeped through the porous sleeve as it was supposed to, and it lubricated his member with sweet girl juices. He held her buttocks, slick and contained in the plastic, and gave himself over to the divine pleasure of driving his tight-held rod in and out of her belly.