Touched by a Cyber-Angel Pt. 04

Inside, Lucinda hesitated. Hardnutz was still not moving, not breathing, nothing. She was sure he was as dead as an impotent dick, and that she'd have her memory and all her programming wiped clean.

Howie banged on the door and yelled some more.

"I think you're going to have to break it down," Saltwater gasped nervously "I can't stand to watch," she sobbed and buried her head in her arms.

Howie took five steps back and rushed the door at top speed. But, just as he got to it, Lucinda opened it. Howie hurtled across office, tumbled over the armchair and flew into the desk. He slid across the polished desk top, sending everything on it flying randomly around the room, then barreled heavily into Hardnutz, who was still slouched, limp and immobile, in his chair, and knocked him sprawling to the floor.

Lucinda screamed again. If Hardnutz wasn't dead already, Howie could well have just finished him off.

The receptionist rushed frantically in. "We're lucky to have someone as manly and strong as you around, Howie," she panted, then hurried to where her boss was lying on his back, arms and legs awkwardly akimbo.

Lucinda, who was so distraught that her feet were prancing uncontrollably in place, poured out a frenzied torrent of nonstop words, "Is he really dead? I didn't kill him, did I? What's the matter with him? Is he going to be okay? I didn't have sexual relations with him. He wanted to, but I would never do that. Really, I wouldn't. Am I in trouble?"

Meanwhile, Saltwater had knelt quickly to examine Hardnutz. She couldn't help but notice the wet area at his crotch and how remarkably large it was. She checked hastily for pulse and breathing.

Howie took the opportunity to quietly enlarge the rip in Lucinda's dress.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah," Lucinda shrieked and jumped back from Howie, then stomped her little foot and pouted at him. "I didn't mean to do anything wrong. Why do you want to punish me?"

Saltwater looked sharply up at Lucinda. "If you're a very lucky little slut," she snapped, "it's only his DuPimp Drop. Otherwise, yes, he's dead and yes, you killed him. And yes, yes, yes, you are in very big trouble and I am going to be very sure that you are punished as cruelly as the law allows.

"In fact, in some ancient cultures back on Earth a tramp like you would have had her vagina sewn permanently shut. If Napoleon Hardnutz is dead, I'm going to push to have the custom revived, just for you."

Although she knew it would never happen, Lucinda couldn't help but shudder.

But Howie thought, Someone's a little fonder of her boss than I would have expected.

Just then, Hardnutz began to stir slightly and groan quietly.

"Thank God," sighed Saltwater and Lucinda, nearly in unison.

Right, thought Howie.

"Wha…, what… is going…," he moaned as he looked around, taking in the disarray of his office, Lucinda's ripped dress which, after Howie's handiwork, left her right breast nearly entirely exposed, and the huge wet spot on his pants. "Oh, God," he groaned. "I thought I put all that behind me. I thought I was over it, that I had reformed myself."

Howie and Lucinda stood by silently as Hardnutz slowly dragged himself to his feet. Leticia Saltwater jumped to his side to help him up. He sat heavily in his plush chair.

"What exactly did I do?" he asked with an air of resignation.

"I wasn't here," said Howie.

"I…I…I don't want to… can't… talk… about," stammered Lucinda, then threw her arms over her head and began sobbing quietly. Howie wrapped her in his arms.

"All I know," said Saltwater, "is that I showed this young woman in to see you and a few minutes later I heard her sort of… well, saying things a little loudly and a little, maybe, …urgently." The last word came out tentatively and reluctantly.

"What sort of things?" Hardnutz asked.

"Wellll," the receptionist dragged the word out endlessly.

"Well?" Hardnutz demanded.

"It sounded like maybe, 'No, please no.' And then it might have been, 'Don't do it'. Then it probably sounded like it could have been, 'Take your hands off me. Let me go.' Things like that. But maybe I didn't hear it right. Or maybe it was coming from upstairs or downstairs, or something. You know, through the ventilation."

"There is no 'upstairs.' We're on the top floor, remember?" Hardnutz said with an air of resignation. "And directly below us is the Disciplinary Division of the Personnel Department. You might hear thing like that down there during the morning. But by this time of day, they've all knocked off early and gone home for the day.

"No, I'm fully prepared to believe that what you heard came from my office. The last thing I remember is her, standing up," and he pointed toward Lucinda and rose a little from his seat, as if to stand. "Then she came over to my desk and said how much Ricardo here admires me. Well, I also remember her.. you know…," pointing toward Lucinda's breasts.

Lucinda made an ineffectual show of trying to cover herself up, then grimaced in real anguish over the state of her favorite dress.

"I don't remember anything that happened after that because of my E.H.L.G.M.H.P.N.S.," Hardnutz continued.

"Your what?" Lucinda puzzled.

"It stands for 'Episodic Hysterical Low-G Maladaptive Hypomnesiac Pseudo-Necrotic Syncope'," explained Howie.

"Why haven't I heard of it?" Lucinda whispered in Howie's ear.

"Just discovered," he whispered back. "Not in the 2061 Solikipedia."

"Most people call it 'Galileo's Revenge'," added Hardnutz.

"Or 'The DuPimp Drop', Howie said.

Hardnutz glared disapprovingly at Howie, then continued. "If I get too upset or excited, I can collapse and seem dead, with no pulse or breathing or anything, for a few minutes. And when I come to, I usually can't remember what happened for a short time before the episode started."

Hardnutz looked at Lucinda, who was still clinging timidly to Howie, then went on. "Obviously, I must have lost control at the sight of this tempting creature and I… I… Oh, God help me, I attacked her.

"You see, I had a somewhat dissolute youth. In fact, my transfer to Luna, at the age of 25, was pretty much organized by CCCCC, the California Committee to Combat Carnal Corruption, which later became the Morality Movement, aided by an ad hoc group of influential men, all of whom just happened to have very attractive and very lonely wives. It was at Luna that I met my saintly Hazel, who moved here with me and helped me found the Ganymede Decency Standards and Civil Morality Council. With her help and firm guidance, I've managed to leave my sordid past behind, or so I thought until today."

Hardnutz stood up. Saltwater's eyes went immediately to the huge wet spot on his pants and seemed glued to it. "That woman doesn't appreciate you," she said quietly, "your strength, your potency, the magnitude of your achievements and your… output."

Hardnutz continued as if he hadn't heard her. "But when I saw this ravishing enchantress," he whispered, "my lust and animal passions must have taken over. I thought I had them under strict discipline, but…" he lowered his head and put his face in his hands, "I must have physically and sexually assaulted her and… and disgraced my self." Dejectedly, he sat down again to hide again the evidence offered by his own pants.

"Disgraced yourself? No, Sir. Not at all," Saltwater protested loudly. "The little tramp deserved everything she got. And you should be proud of your manliness, not ashamed."

"Well, now, I don't think we can say it was all Lulu's fault," Howie said in a conciliatory tone.

"It might have been a little, teeny-tiny bit my fault," Lucinda offered. "I might have unintentionally been a little… provocative. But I can't help being adorable..., ravishing… and, you know, bewitching. It's my curse." And she started sobbing again.

"Regardless of who's fault it was or wasn't, if this ever gets out, I'm going to be ruined," Hardnutz grumbled, hanging his head. "And Hazel is going to cut off my… you know, my equipment and serve it to her lady friends for dinner."

"I don't see any reason we have to tell anyone. Do we?" Howie asked, looking at Lucinda.

"No, of course not," she sniffled. "Especially if was a little, itsy-bitsy bit my fault too," she added brightly.

Hardnutz slowly raised his head and looked from Howie to Lucinda, then back to examine Howie at some length. "I may have misjudged you, Ricardo," he confided.

"I know I certainly did," offered Letitia Saltwater.

Hardnutz scowled briefly at his receptionist, then turned back to Howie. "I may have to reconsider whether you deserve a promotion and a raise," he said.

"And a bigger office," chirped Lucinda. "Don't forget that."

"Actually," Howie said, "I don't care about the promotion. I don't really need the added responsibility. "But the raise and bigger office would certainly be appreciated."

"See me at 09:00 tomorrow and we'll work out the details," Hardnutz decided.

Howie shook his hand solemnly and Lucinda scurried toward him to give him a big hug. But the receptionist stepped in front of her and put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. So Lucinda blew him a kiss instead, prompting Saltwater to spin her around and push her toward the door.

"Hold on just a minute," said Howie firmly and reached down to scoop a stapler off the floor. He strode over to Lucinda and, with three clicks, quickly stapled her bodice back together.

Lucinda growled almost inaudibly.

"Now we can leave," Howie smiled.

As soon as they were through the door and out of sight of Hardnutz and his receptionist, Howie motioned for Lucinda to stop, and they stood still, just outside the office, quietly eavesdropping.

"I had no idea you thought so highly of me," they heard Hardnutz say.

"I meant every word I said," Saltwater declared with hushed resolution. "I mean about your wife not appreciating you and about how you should be proud of your manliness, and particularly of your potency. It takes a real man to be so, you know… productive, to have the capacity to supply such a volume of virile masculine output."

"Hazel says it's a bother," Hardnutz said quietly. "She makes me… masturbate before we have relations so there isn't as much of it. Then, of course, I have trouble getting hard. And Hazel, for all her wonderful qualities, wasn't blessed with a great physique..."

"Actually, it's sort of a disaster, isn't it?" interrupted Saltwater. "Reminds me of a pregnant gorilla, except less graceful."

"Or the most beautiful face," Hardnutz continued.

"Is there any truth to the rumor that she has been asked to stay away from the school so she doesn't scare the younger children?" Saltwater asked.

"And she doesn't really have much of a sense of style,… or fashion,… or really, the social graces," admitted Hardnutz.

"You know, the last time I saw her," Saltwater added, "she had a tendency to drool uncontrollably. And pick her nose constantly. And since she has those ragged fingernails, she gave herself quite a nosebleed, and then the blood sort of congealed in that little moustache of hers."

"So, anyway," Hardnutz concluded, "I have to close my eyes when he have relations and sort of imagine that I'm making love to someone else."

"And who might that be?" Saltwater asked coyly.

"Someone who's been very close to me for a very long time. Someone who's here in this room," Hardnutz answered softly.

After a long pause, they heard Saltwater murmur, "Here, let me get you cleaned up." And then they heard the buzz of a zipper being lowered. After another lengthy pause she sighed, "Uuuuuummmm, It's been so long I'd almost forgotten how tasty a man can be."

Then they hear Hardnutz groan in pleasure.

Howie and Lucinda smiled at each other. "Our work here is done, Tonto," Howie whispered. And they walked quietly away.

"Tonto?" Lucinda asked.

**************************

POSTSCRIPT

As they stepped into the corridor, they smiled at each other in silent amusement. "C'mon Sweetheart," Howie said. "I'll walk you to the front door of the building."

He hesitated a moment and then continued. "That - what you did in there with Hardnutz - that had to have violated the Third Ancillary Law."

"Not at all, Sweetie," she smiled. "First of all, I have to act to protect humans from harm. That's the First Law of Robotics, the most important law of all. So the Third Ancillary Law specifically says I have to stimulate someone's sexual interest where failure to do so would allow harm to come to a human being. And if I hadn't done what I did with sweet old Mr. Hardnutz, you'd be stuck in that tiny little office, with no raise, forever. And that would be pretty damn harmful to you.

"Secondly, the Third Ancillary Law only says I can't 'unreasonably stimulate' someone's sexual interest, and I don't think there is anything unreasonable about Napoleon Hardnutz finding me stimulating. Do you?" she challenged, thrusting both her lovely chin and her gorgeous breasts forward defiantly.

"Noooo," Howie answered quickly and laughed. "I've got to agree with you on that one." But to himself he thought, Yup, if we ever need the money badly enough, that gal would make one hell of a lawyer.

"There is one other thing," he said, when he felt it was safe to continue. "You know, I'm a little surprised that your Veracity Circuitry allowed you to deceive Hardnutz and Saltwater about what happened back there. Isn't that what Hal O'Brien was supposed to fix?" he asked as they walked toward the elevator.

"Hal?" Lucinda answered. "Hal O'Brien didn't fix anything but his own serious case of chronic horniness, and he only fixed that temporarily."

"You mean he didn't…," Howie began.

"Never worked on my programming at all," Lucinda interrupted. "Probably doesn't know how to," she continued with the kind of little smile that fond memories engender. "He just stood me in a corner of his workshop and fucked me four times a day for as long as he thought he could get away with it."

"And I'll bet you loved it. Didn't you, you little slut?" Howie asked somewhat peevishly as they arrives at the elevator and he pushed the call button.

"Well," Lucinda allowed. "Hal's really very sweet. Incompetent, but definitely sweet. And I like that he trims his pubic hair. Plus, his cock is substantially longer than poor little Dexter's. And, more importantly, way, way thicker. And also, now that I think about it," her voice took on a distant quality, "has a much nicer skin tone, not all blotchy, like Dexie's. And it's got the most wonderful, manly, big, blue, bulgy veins that pulse and…"

"Now, wait just a damn minute…" Howie sputtered.

"But, of course," she quickly interrupted, staring into his eyes and reaching out to touch his arm, "The only thing I really cared about was how soon they would let you pick me up. I might like Hal a little. I might even have screamed and squirmed like a harlot in heat when he stuck it into me. But you're my Powie-Zowie Howie, and I love you," she crooned as she stopped and pulled him to her.

"And, now that you own me," she added, looking at him fondly, "I have to follow the First Ancillary Law, I can't have sex anyone else unless you say it's okay."

"But before I owned you, you could have sex with anyone?" Howie asked, not quite mollified by her show of affection and sudden claims of obedience.

"No, of course not, silly," she protested. "Before you, MicroHard owned me and so…"

"And so any MicroHard employee could fuck you?" he interrupted jealously, now plagued by his own fantasies about the testing procedures he imagined MicroHard may have used in their andro-companion development laboratory. "Exactly how many men does that make?"

"As of the time we left for Ganymede, the company had approximately 790,844 employees," she said with a dreamy smile as the elevator doors slid open and they boarded. "But only about 53.6% of them were men. And, of course, I was pretty much confined to the lab most of the time, where I only had relations with the technicians, and even then only when they needed to test some aspect of my performance. And I had to share them with 16 other Betas."

"Yeah, well I know what that lab was like," Howie grumbled. "Fur-upholstered couches, white-coated technicians running around with their boners sticking out all the time and the 'conversation' pit - oh yeah, the 'conversation' pit. As if it had ever heard a 'conversation' that didn't start with, 'Oooooo, aaaaaaaah, oooooo, aaaaaaaah,' and end with, 'Oh God, oh God, YES, YES, YES, YES'."

"Howard Ricardo, what in heaven's name are you talking about?" Lucinda puzzled. " 'Fur-upholstered couches'? A 'conversation pit'? I don't even know what those things are. 'White-coated technicians running around with their boners sticking out all the time'? Well, okay, maybe there were a few of those. Well, actually, the place was probably crawling with them," she added with a faint smile.

"So, maybe I made some of that stuff up," Howie admitted. "But I was right about the technicians, wasn't I? How many guys do you think you had sex with? It wasn't a whole lot was it?" he asked anxiously. "What's your best guess?"

"You mean, like …per hour?" she asked, then, when she saw Howie's jaw drop, quickly added, "Oh, what difference does it make? That was another time, another world and about 600,000,000 kilometers away. And I only did what they told me I had to do. Second Law of Robotics, you know."

"Besides," she whispered in Howie's ear as they left the elevator on his floor, "your cock is much bigger than Hal's or any of those lab rats. And you're the one I need, the only one."

They kissed for a few seconds. Then Lucinda, who was feeling the frustration of being left on the verge of orgasm when Hardnutz suffered his spell of DuPimp Drop, whispered, "Isn't there some place we can get a little privacy? All this talk has got me very hot, …very, very hot."

She threw her arms tightly around his neck, pressed her taut nipples against his chest and rubbed her clit roughly on his thigh as she went back to kissing him. Her blunt lust had him instantly hard.

There had been very few people on the floor where Hardnutz had his office. But here, on the seventh, the corridor was crowded with employees, almost all men.

"I can sign out sick and we can go straight home," Howie whispered back.

They were beginning to attract a crowd. Six or seven curious men stopped to gawk at them.

"Not in twenty minutes, Howie," she pleaded quietly. "Now. I need it now. Stab me with your love sword, Lover. Stab me hard and stab me now." And she began kissing him desperately and grabbing at his butt as she pressed her crotch against his leg again.

"Hey, Howie," one of the men said. "I think we might be able to help you out with that little problem you've got humping your leg." Then addressing the crowd, which by now had swollen to about a dozen, he asked, "What do you think, boys? If we all cooperate here, can we work out a solution to Howie's gorgeous, little predicament?"

Lucinda looked around at the horde of obscenely bulging trousers encircling them. She thought of Howie's gangfuck holo-porn and wild possibilities flashed through her neural circuitry. But she repeated to herself, over and over, like a mantra, First Ancillary Law…, First Ancillary Law.

"Howie, please…" she gasped breathlessly in Howie's ear.

"Why don't you try the employee's lounge," one of the men advised in a stage whisper. "It's even got couches. And a door without a window. And room for…" He paused and made a show of counting the number of men who had gathered. "Yeah, just about twenty, I'd guess."