Chapter 26: Dinner For Three. Or Four

Except for her all-to-brief dickgirl phase, Stacy had never asked me for any kind of enhancement before, but on the occasion of this special dinner, she shyly asked me to up her a cup size and put more muscle in her ass, giving her a dancer’s version of an hourglass figure.

That was only her first surprise. When she stepped out to present herself for inspection, she was wearing one of her mother’s hottest, skimpiest black dresses. I wanted to fuck her right then and there, but she knew the effect the dress (and her body, now her mother’s body, to be honest) so she grabbed a couch pillow, knelt down and took an inspired load down her throat.

With a smile, she tucked me in, excused herself, applied her lipstick, popped a mint in her mouth and looked fresh as a daisy as she took my arm and walked with me to our newly detailed car.

We waved at old man Gibson as we approached the car, but he didn’t acknowledge us. It almost seemed as if he were staring off in the distance instead of looking our way.

Stacy looked more beautiful than I had ever remembered as she lifted her right leg all the way up so that her chin rested on it. That served hitch up her short hemline to reveal – black panties! Not just a thong, either, but beautiful, silky, Victoria’s Secret panties. Just like her mom used to wear.

“So are so beautiful,” I said.

“Anything for my daddy,” she said, looking straight ahead. She added nothing more until we arrived at the Ruth’s Chris in Bakersfield. We had reservations, so we were able to walk past a dozen or so idiots who thought they could just walk up and walk in. Every man and woman in that line wished they were me with Stacy on my arm.

“Childers, table for four,” I said, trying to avoid a shit-eating grin.

“Right this way,” the cute hostess said, wiggling her own ass in a tight black skirt as she led us through a maze of tables and waiters. “You guest has already arrived.”

One of them had, anyway.

Both Stacy and I gasped a little when Nicky stood up to greet us. Decked out in war paint even more elaborate that she wore in Vegas, she had borrowed one of my favorite dresses – owned by Sara. She’d added a bit of a tan, and was wearing heels that only dancers should be allowed to wear; Stacy had on a pair herself, making her nearly as tall as me.

“Nicky, you are beautiful,” Stacy said, kissing her on each cheek demurely – before a wet-lipped kiss.

“That was supposed to be my entrance line,” I said, kissing Stacy’s lipstick off Nicky’s lips. “I appreciate you joining us tonight.”

“Are you kidding?” she said as I held her chair for her to sit. “I’ve never eaten here. I can’t even afford to smell the steak.”

“Don’t worry. I am on the verge of getting a huge bonus from my writing,” I said. “Consider this a celebration.”

“I know! The Peachy Keen books!” Nicky gushed. “I read a bunch of them before I’d even met you or knew who you were. I think it’s the coolest thing to be able to have your words stay in print forever.”

I didn’t want to tell her that those damn books were just a means to an end. That I had written four full-blown novels without so much as a publisher’s nibble. I wrote a Peachy Keen story, illustrating it myself, more or less, to suffice as a bedtime story for Stacy when she was barely out of diapers. Then, when she was in kindergarten, she took it to school for Show and Tell and the teacher (I can’t believe I’ve forgotten her name) was blown away and sent it to her brother-in-law, a publisher of children’s books.

His name – Ben Bolling, Liz’s ex-husband – I remembered. I also remember the first check he held in front of my face. I had two more stories for him within a week, and with Liz illustrating them, we were soon rolling in it. Still were; tonight was proof.

“I’m flattered that you’d invite me,” Nicky said. “I really do wonder why, though.”

“You ask too many questions,” Stacy said, smiling behind her glass of water.

“That’s no fair,” I said. “I have questions, too.”

“Really? About me?” she said, genuinely surprised. “I don’t have any secrets – I don’t think.”

“Okay, for starters, what is Nicky short for?” I began.

“Oh, no. My darkest secret right off the bat,” she said dramatically.

“You’re so full of shit,” Stacy said.

“You’re right. Busted,” Nicky grinned. “My full name is Nicosia Monique Moore. Greece meets France, do not pass Italy, do not pass Go.”

“So you’re really, ‘Nicky Nicky Moore, ‘“ Stacy giggled.

“Hey, we all can’t be ‘Stacy Renee, ‘ can we?” Nicky said, more than a little defensively.

This was not off to a good start. Time for damage control already.

“That is an enchanting, wonderful name,” I said. “I look forward to repeating aloud in the future.”

“Not necessary,” she said. “I’ve been Nicky since the cradle, I’m pretty sure.”

“What happened to your parents?” Stacy asked, not as gently as I would have liked.

“Dad has a great job, allows him to travel. Mom loves to travel even more than he does,” she shrugged. “They might have moved back, but they discovered a tumor on one my mom’s ovaries and she stayed back East for her chemo and I never had vote on whether or not they’d stay here. She got better, but it took a while. You’d probably like them, Larry.”

I would never tell her that Master PC removed a malignant cyst off one of her ovaries when we ran the initial check of everyone’s bodies. Cancer would not be attacking this woman, ever.

“My turn,” Nicky said. “What happened to your wife, Stacy’s mother? I kind of remember her when I first started out. Pretty, blonde.”

“Unfaithful,” I replied.

“Unloving,” Stacy added.

“Cold,” I said.

“Frigid,” Stacy echoed.

“Beautiful,” I said.

“Hot,” Stacy said.

“I think she’s a sociopath,” I said.

“Whoa,” Nicky finally replied. “Sorry I asked.”

“Yeah, well,” I sighed, feeling myself sink in my chair. “I am, too.”

This night was NOT going well. Thankfully, there was one more guest of honor arriving. In fact, her entrance had the place buzzing as a handful of fans actually recognized Liz as she crossed the room. Hell, I barely recognized the 40-something single mother of three. Her dress was a brilliant yellow with white trim, the better to show off her new waistline.

“I never looked this good in my teens, much less my 20s,” Liz said, air kissing each one of us in turn.

“Jesus, dad,” Stacy said appreciatively. “You made Miz Boling hotter than any one of us.”

“That’s why you and Stacy are so close,” she said, her blush hidden beneath her tan.

“I am his undying ... flesh and blood,” Stacy said, giving me a heart attack. “We’ve been inseparable ever since she left.”

“Ah, your mom,” Liz nodded. “You know, I knew her pretty well. What was my email to you, Larry, when you announced your divorce?”

“High five,” I said immediately. “Had a big laugh at that.”

“I never did give you that high five, either,” Liz said, actually raising her hand in the air. Knowing we’d already draw plenty of attention to ourselves, I returned the gesture and all four of us laughed. The ice, as it were, was broken.

At that point, a waiter thankfully arrived, pad in hand. As he asked if we were ready, I glanced at the women at our table and all three looked as if they wanted to put him down as their main course. I was ravenous, but Stacy said, “Give a few more minutes. Our friend here just arrived.”

“Oh, my God. My world even for a salad,” I said, but Stacy shushed me.

“Dad, I think I speak for all of the women here when I asked you to whip our your new Master PC computer and add six, no eight, inches to our gentlemen’s cock so that we might be better satisfied when we gang rape him.”

“Hear, hear,” Nicky said. Liz just saluted Stacy with her glass of water.

Even though this was far too public a place for it, I pulled out my iPhone that had the new app that Chuck had designed on it for complete control of someone far away from the source computer.

As I began tapping the way-too-small keys, Stacy looked over my shoulder, her new Alyssa boobs brushing pleasantly against my arm.

“Eight inches,” she murmured. “Stamina. Quick rebound.”

“You might want him to forget this after the fact,” Liz said reasonably.

“Good point,” Stacy said. “Give us a trigger word for him to forget everything.”

“How about, ‘Sizzler’?” I offered, which made everyone laugh almost too loudly. That was our waiter’s cue to return. His name tag said DOUG.

“All right, who’ll be first?” he asked.

“A salad, a baked potato smothered with bacon bits and cheese and a piece of prime sirloin,” I said, making sure he had my order correct before he was distracted. When he turned to Stacy, I hit the SEND button on the screen.

Doug’s eyes went wide, but he was a pro.

“Filet mignon. Side salad with lite ranch dressing. Side order of rice pilaf,” Stacy said, smiling pleasantly. I knew, with her little plan in effect, she’d probably eat like a teamster.

After hearing our order, Nicky seemed also embarrassed to order a baked potato and a garden salad. But then, she didn’t know that we would never gain weight thanks to the Master PC profile. Liz did, but she stuck with a baked chicken salad with a side order of onion rings – one of her long-standing vices, I knew.

Doug limped away, looking like he’s pulled a hamstring.

“Normally, I’m a vegetarian,” Nicky said. “Tried to be vegan, but I couldn’t go that extreme. But your orders just sounded so damn good. Hope you don’t mind sharing off your plate. Or Doug.”

Liz would come to enjoy some white meat soon enough.

“That’s fine. Enjoy your salad,” I grinned, thinking the night was back on track. That was confirmed a moment later when I felt a female foot rubbing my cock with a big toe. As I looked up, two of my two dinner dates seemed to be a deep conversation completely apart from my presence there. The third, Stacy, seemed to be checking her makeup in her mirror. While whoever was toe-fucking me had removed their shoe, I couldn’t quite tell who it was. So I grabbed the foot and yanked – and with a “Whoop!” Liz disappeared under the table.

A moment later, she was pulling out my cock for a little appetizer. I closed my eyes and groaned, drawing a glance from my two dinner dates. At that point, Stacy glanced under the table and I seemed to see her eagerly tapping Nicky on the shoulder and pointing.

I had to look down.

Looking up at me was a young girl I did not recognize, smiling up at me with a brilliant smile and a complexion that would be called peaches and cream. A moment later, her teeth caused the cream to be my spunk in her face. She looked young, but did not blink despite my load. Finally, it clicked.

“Audrey?” I asked weakly as she slurped me up.

“Call me Amber,” she said, smiling with perfect teeth and perfect skin. “I heard you were having a celebration tonight, and Liz called the house to cancel, so I thought I would join the party – Master.”

“I know your program allows to assume other bodies, but how did you do that over the phone?” I asked, aroused yet puzzled. It occurred to me I was having a conversation with someone under my table.

“Give me some credit, Master,” she said. “I have copied everyone who has been by the house since I moved in. But how do you like my new porn body?”

“What I can see of it, looks fine,” I moaned.

“Want to take it for a test drive?” she giggled.

“Thank you, but later, please,” I said. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner.”

“Why, thank you!” she said disappearing from my sight. Shaking my head, I was trying to zip myself up without damage when she rose from above the table as if she were being elevated, she was again Liz.

“Nicky, I want you meet our own personal porn star, Amber,” I said as gallantly as I could. “Stacy, have you and she have met?”

“Yes. The other night, Audrey did the equivalent of a fashion show. She replicated a dozen women and we had to guess who they were,” Stacy said. “She’s Amber, but also Audrey, Nikki the dickgirl...”

“Or, child of the Program,” she said.

“Go ahead as assume the Amber identity,” I said. “Since we now know you’re not Liz, there’s no point in keeping that illusion.”

“I have a better idea. Watch this,” she said. “My lips never leave my face.”

She held up an oversized menu in front of of her face for what seemed like less than five second. When she lowered it, the famous Nikki Dial, dickgirl, sat where Liz was a moment before.

“Can’t have too many Nikkis,” said slightly overwhelmed Nicky. “I knew I’d felt some changes in my body, but I thought I was hallucinating. But I can see – you’re perfect.”

Amber turned and put her face close to Nicky’s.

“You don’t need a program, or anything else,” she said softly. “I need it just to be accepted. You’re so desirable now, I can’t imagine improving on you.”

As my two table guests made goo-goo eyes at one another, Stacy and I made our own eye contact. She rolled her eyes and I shrugged.

“You and I will have plenty of time to get acquainted,” Audrey/Nikki was saying.

“Too bad she isn’t real,” Stacy said. In response, Nicky reached down and felt a full, perky breast.

“Feels real enough for me,” Nicky said. She obviously squeezed it, as the porn star closed her eyes and moaned.

“Now, let’s get a good look at Amber,” I said, even though I knew a lot of people in the room had noticed Nikki. Again the trick with the menu, and the newly minted face of Amber Leigh had joined us.

“Amber, stand up and walk around,” I said. “We haven’t had a chance to see much of you.”

She brightened at her chance to strut her stuff. Sliding out of the booth, she drug her perfect fingernails across Nicky’s chest and stepped into the open floor space. It was an amazing job; she had the innocent face of a teen, with long, chiseled legs, perfect boobs and an ass that could cash a check. She did a half-turn, pulling her hair back off her ear, and every man in the place wanted her.