Nanotech GRS

I felt an urge to write some sci fi. There's an introduction for this, but I'm not posting it here. Maybe there will be a next part. Maybe not. Depends on the response.

I will get back to specific requests tomorrow.

Hope to hear from you.

Finally a girl again (1)

Consciousness comes slowly. It takes a few seconds for my brain to reorganize, to realize what is going on and to put things in order. There's always that disorientation as my brain starts to understand the changes my body has gone through since I went to sleep last night.

Slowly, I stretch my body, trying to relax the muscles that have been put through such intense changes. They're sore, but they'll recover soon enough.

I make a fist and feel the nails on my fingers. They're long, like they're supposed to be. That's good. Maybe they got my hair right this time too. I take a deep breath and lick my lips. They're full and soft, but they always are. My teeth feel straight. That's good.

I move my hands up the curves of my body. Curves that didn't used to be there. My breasts are soft and tender, but the tenderness will go away soon too.

I let out a sigh and push myself to a sitting position. My hair cascades down my back. Perfect.

I need a shower.

I slip out of the goo that, up until a few hours ago, used to be me. The machine will recycle the cells, use them again if and when I decide to go back. Some of it will be lost in the shower. But that's to be expected.

I exfoliate in the shower, and part of me misses my tattoos. Those won't come back. Every time I do the change, the ink goes away. The ink isn't part of me. Not really.

I brush out my hair with a towel wrapped around me and try not to admire my form too much. It's really long this time, straight and cascading all the way down to my ass. My very shapely ass. I'm in great shape. Nanotech is better than diet and exercise put together.

The leather hugs my leg as I zip the boots up the back, from the top of my heels to the back of my knees. I straighten out the stockings, smooth down my skirt, and start to button up the blouse over my bra. It's a bit small, but it's supposed to be.

I didn't do this so I could be a good girl.

The boots don't have much of a heel, so walking in them doesn't really take any adjustment. My muscles are put together so that I'd be used to balancing that way. I put on my makeup with the care of someone who doesn't do it very often, and with a choice of coloring that speaks to my life as a man and to my desires to be a bit slutty.

I braid my hair into two long tails and walk over to the door. It hums as the lock slides free. One quick trip down a hallway, and I'm out in public; the only people who have any idea who I really am are in the building behind me.

I'll have to go through another debriefing afterward, once they're sure that I am me. I've been through them before; they're long and they're boring.

But usually, I don't have the kind of story to tell that I'm intending to have this time. Usually it's just some boring stuff about what it was like to be a woman, whether or not anyone was able to tell, that sort of thing.

This time. Well, this time it's going to be different.

My first stop is the back room of an adult video store. There's a pad on the floor that I can kneel on, and three holes in the wall in front of me.

I wrap my lips around the first cock to push through the hole and slide it deep into my throat, forcing down my gag reflex and sucking it all the way in, pulling back for a second and plunging forward again. I can hear the moaning on the other side of the thin wall, and it makes me smile as I move my way along the shaft, sucking and licking, my own moans mirroring those on the other side.

His cum splashes down my throat, and I leave him gasping for breath and move over to work on the next cock pushing through the hole to the right.

I don't know who they are. I don't really keep track of how many of them there are. I just suck, swallow, and move on to the next cock. Suck, swallow, move on. Over and over, for as long as there are cocks there to suck.

Eventually, they do run out. I don't know if people got tired of waiting, if people went more than once, or if I just sucked every cock in the greater metropolitan area. I have no idea. I know there were black cocks, white cocks, hispanic cocks, asian cocks; I apparently didn't discriminate at all. I just sucked and sucked. Now my jaw aches, my stomach feels like it's swimming in sperm, and I'm just getting started.

I smiled at the clerk as I walked out of the store, not the least bit embarrassed by how I'd spent the last few hours. He was speechless, and from the blushing, I feel pretty confident that I've had his cock in my mouth.

I didn't have to order even a single drink. Part of me wanted to walk into the bar and say “Who do I have to fuck to get a beer around her?” But it turned out that I didn't need to. I had barely made it to the bar when the first man offered to buy me something.

I ordered a fruity drink. Something girly. Why not? It had the word 'tini' in it.

“You come here often?” No, seriously. That's what he said. The worst, dumbest pickup line in the history of the world, and that's what he tried on me.

“Never been here before,” I told him. Then I smiled. “And I'm nowhere near drunk enough for that line to work.”

He frowned, but didn't give up. Good for him. “I like your outfit.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I was afraid it would be all sweaty and dirty by now.”

That confuses him. “How come?”

I wait until he has the beer to his lips before I answer.

“Because I spent most of the afternoon sucking cock after cock, and that tends to be sweaty work.”

The beer didn't come out of his nose, but he did choke a little. He coughed, looked at me like he was waiting for me to smile and tell him I'd been kidding.

When I didn't, he made his excuses and left. I chuckled to myself and settled down for my drink.

The next guy to come by was a bit more suave. He didn't immediately offer me a drink, and he didn't ask if he knew me from somewhere. “You have beautiful hair.” That's all he said.

I gave him a few seconds to add to it, then as the silence began to drag out, I smiled at him. “Thank you,” I said.

“Must be hard to grow that long.”

Part of me wants to make a dirty joke. Instead I shrug and finish my tini. “It takes a while to brush out, but it's pretty healthy and strong on its own.”

“Looks like those commercials,” he says. “the one where the girl gets her hair tied to the bar, and then rips the bar free. You know the one I mean?”

I nod. “Yeah. The one with the hair bondage.”

He laughs at that, quiet but knowing. “Nah,” he says. “Real hair bondage would have been more than a simple knot.”

“Oh? How would you do it then?”

He leans back and looks at the hair running down my back. “I'd probably use one braid around your wrists, the other around your ankles.” He takes a sip of his drink. Smells like scotch. “Or at least tie each one to a different point so you couldn't pull either of them free, even if you could rip the bar out of the wall.”

I smile. “I like the way you think. Want to buy me a drink?”

He smiles and gives me one of those looks. The looks that make your stomach drop. The looks that send shivers down your spine. The looks that make you want more cock, even after spending all day at a glory hole.

“No,” he says. “But if you're interested, I'll buy you for a drink.”

I raise an eyebrow at him and give him the most flirtatious smile I can. “And what do you expect that drink to get you?”

“I buy you a drink, you come with me and let me play with that hair of yours.”

“You going to cut it off?”

He shakes his head. “Wouldn't dream of it. But I will tie you up with it, if you like.”

“Throw in breakfast, and you can have me for the whole night.”

“The whole night?”

I nod. “Just don't murder me or anything.” I'm not really worried about that. I have a panic button under my skin if I need help.

He laughs. “No murder,” he says. “No permanent damage. I promise.” He holds out a hand.

I shake his hand. “It's a deal.”

“What do you want to drink?”

I shrug and stand up. “We can figure that out later. Do you have a car?”

“It's out back.” He stands up and casually adjusts his pants. I know what that adjustment means.

I look down. “You drive,” I say. “And we'll start with road head.” I head out to the door, knowing he will follow me. What man wouldn't?

Back at his apartment, he pulls my head back and uses my hair to tie my wrists together. It pulls at my wrists and at my scalp, but there's no way I'm getting out. No way I'm going to be able to move.

“I noticed you're not wearing panties,” he says.

I try to shrug. “They get in the way.”

He pushes me forward, crushing my breasts against his counter.

“That they do,” he says, sliding his cock into my pussy. My very ready, very wet pussy, the one getting fucked for the first time.

He wraps the other braid of my hair around his hand and uses it to pull me back onto his cock as he fucks me, grunting with each thrust and riding me like an animal.

He pulls extra hard when he cums, holding me still as his cock spasms inside me.

“Any chance you want to invite some friends?”

He laughs and almost lets me go. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. As many as you want. Let's have a party.”

“What kind of party?”

“A me party,” I say. “One where everyone gets to use me.”

He laughs again.

“What is your name, anyway?”

“Ask me tomorrow,” I say. 

“After the party.”