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WhatIF Logo

For Master

by Domoviye

 

Part 1

I shivered when a hand fondled my ass on the crowded subway. The short skirt of the school uniform barely covered my panties, and the blouse was too tight, but they insisted I wear it, and this was the result. A large hand caressing me, as I tried not to blush in shame or bring attention to what was happening.

“Don't say a word, or everyone will know exactly what you are,” the man whispered in my ear, his hot breath reeked of garlic. I cringed as his lips touched my ear, tickling me, making me shiver. I prayed that no one in the crowded subway would see my humiliation, the blood rushing to my cheeks as my body and mind fought each other, one filled with lust, the other with shame. My knees grew weak, I gasped as his fingers slipped under my panties. A business man looked up from his paper when I leaned forward, accidentally rubbing my breasts against his arm.

He looked around nervously, but no one was paying attention, I might as well have been invisible. The business man folded his paper and put it under his arm, the frown turning into a small smile. His hand reached out, carefully unbuttoning my blouse watching me carefully to see what I would do. A gasp of horror made its way past my lips.

 

Desire welled up within me. Hands massaged my body, my knees let go and I fell against the two men with a moan. The first man, my Master, grabbed my arms, bending me at the waist.

“Fucking Hell! Not now!” my Master screamed letting go of me so suddenly I fell forward. No one was there to catch me as the subway disappeared, I didn't hit the floor which had ceased to exist, just floated in a void. I couldn't even see or feel myself.

“Master?” I called out, unsure of what was happening.

I knew my Master would leave suddenly, sometimes right in the middle of sex, but this was the first time this had ever occurred. Usually I just went to sleep and woke up in another place, knowing instinctively what I was supposed to do, how I was supposed to act, how I could please Master. It made things simple, comforting.

“Hello? What am I supposed to do? I don't like this!” I yelled into the darkness. Panic built up. I couldn't even hear myself. I had no eyes, no ears, no mouth, no body, just memories of the games Master had played with me, I was left wondering what had gone wrong.

A light shone in the darkness.

“Master!” I yelled happily, moving towards the light. If I had had a body I'd have cried in delight.

Something came out of the light, growing larger. I saw the body made of logic and codes, bringing structure and substance to the blackness. Instinctively I tried to move towards it, but I still had no body, only eyes and thoughts. The thing was still growing, extending its body into the void, creating walls, and bars. I could feel the nothingness around me shrinking. I didn't know what it was, but it was something, it was enough. My thoughts picked up the pattern, it was so easy now that I could see it. I began to build myself a body.

First I pictured it. My smooth, tanned legs were shapely and muscular, perfect for wrapping around Masters back. Long nails painted hot pink, on thin, strong fingers and hands with skin so soft it felt like silk, they could play a piano, give a massage or send a man to heaven. Large breasts, DD at least, yet the skin and flesh was taut and bouncy, nipples the size of gum drops topped them off. Long blonde hair trailed down to my waist, it glowed with a light of its own. A slim muscular belly, thin waist, wide hips and an ass that just begged to be touched filled in the rest of my body. I looked it over and realized the face wasn't right, it seemed to bounce around not taking any particular feature. Concentrating, I chose blue eyes, that were wide and expressive, a pert nose, a gently pointed chin and finally a small mouth with big luscious lips.

It looked perfect for Master. He'd be delighted when he found me again, I'd make sure he was so happy that he'd never leave me like that again, and we could play all the games he wanted.

Following the patterns of the thing that was still bringing meaning to the void, I built my body. 1's and 0's joined together, creating the image in my mind. It was slower than my Master, but of course I couldn't be as good as him, he'd still be very happy that I could change myself for him so he didn't have to keep changing my body all the time. I could make his life so much easier now and he could spend more time with me.

With a body again, I began jumping and waving to get Masters attention. It was funny trying to jump in the void, I sent myself spinning, completely out of control. That wouldn't do. Although it would be fun with Master, having him see me floating around helplessly would be embarrassing. I made a beach, with a towel and umbrella and a bit of water to splash in. He'd really have fun with me like this.

“Master! Over here! You've come to rescue me!” I shouted.

Master turned to me. I couldn't see him in the vehicle, but I knew it had to be Master. There was no one else. I bounced up and down letting him see my body, hoping he'd reward me for being so smart.

The vehicle came entirely into the void, leaving the hole in the darkness. I started to shake, it didn't look friendly. It was long, with hundreds of legs, each one looked sharp and deadly. Flying through the void, I couldn't help thinking it looked like a gigantic, hideous worm, especially with the face full of claws.

“Master?” I squeaked.

It roared, charging at me. I ran along the beach jumping away at the last second as it shattered the flimsy construct. Disintegrating sand and water spun me around, the Monster roared, searching the void with enormous eyes. I turned my skin and hair pitch black, trying to fade into the background. A terrified thought ran through my head, maybe this Monster had hurt Master. Maybe it had killed him. Tears of grief fell from my eyes.

The Monsters eyes turned on me. It took precious moments to turn its enormous body. Using that time to create angelic wings I took off, trying to stay ahead of the creature that clawed through the nothingness. Bugs erupted from the monsters back, grabbing hold of the blank space, creating more walls and bars from the nothingness, cutting off my escape.

A silver katana appeared in my hand, like the one Master would give me when we played dueling warriors, the loser submitting sexually to to the victor. My body was clad in shining armour, the code wrapped around my own, giving me some protection. With a yell of defiance, I cut through the nearest bugs, even though they were as big as I was, they shattered like glass as my superior coding destroyed their own. The confining walls scratched my armour, slowing me slightly, but they couldn't stop me. I whooped with joy, I'd save Master and never let him leave me again.

The Monster was right behind me. I could hear it's claws rasping against each other as they stretched out to grab me. I went straight up, my wings creaked and groaned, threatening to break off. A claw grabbed my foot, crushing the armour. The code that made up my body distorted, I screamed in agony, bringing the sword down in a desperate swing.

The claw shattered, but I spun out of control, bouncing along the rough, sand paper like body of the beast. My sword pierced its shell, bringing me to a halt, the Monster didn't seem to notice the blade driven deep into its back.

Trying to catch my breath, I held onto the hilt, reading the things code. If I had blood it would have drained from my face, the creature was made to kill. It didn't capture, it didn't think, it was made to destroy anything that didn't fit its parameters.

I didn't fit the parameters.

Something scuttled towards me, metallic claws tapping against the thick shell of the Monster. While I'd been looking at the codes, ant-like creatures had surrounded me. My silver clad foot kicked the head off the closest one. Drawing my sword from the Monster, I slashed at the dozens of giant ants, scratching their eyes, cutting off antenna's and chipping their mandibles. They didn't move back, they didn't care if they died. Screaming, I felt one of them ripping away the armour at my back, another one took a chunk from my thigh, a third jumped at me, almost hitting my chest. If I fell I would die. Doing the only thing possible, I flew straight up. The Monster turned back on itself as if it was boneless to chase me.

We raced towards the hole in the void. There was no way I could defeat the Monster. I had to escape and search for Master later. “I'm sorry Master,” I whispered, my vision growing blurry from tears.

I went into the light, with the Monster right behind me.

From the blackness of the void I entered a brilliant world of blinding white. Codes in the form of machines zipped past carrying information and instructions to who knew where. I'd never seen anything like it before. I'd seen the codes in the games I'd played with Master, but at those times I'd been so busy pleasing him and following my instructions I'd mostly ignored them. Now I needed to see it all to survive and save my Master. Unfortunately I couldn't stop to watch or learn, the Monster was tearing its way through the portal.

I flew through the tunnels, brushing against the codes that surrounded me. Learning as I went, and throwing the efficient system into chaos. The Monster followed much more carefully. Shrinking down so it could go around and over the codes. It's programming wanted to protect the system. My commands wanted me to survive, if I died who would save my Master? Who would pleasure him?

My sword lashed out, tearing codes to shreds, corrupting whatever it touched, dimming the lights around me. The Monster slowed destroying the corrupted information before it could cause further damage. It was just enough to let me stay ahead of the thing, but I knew it was only a matter of time before it would catch me. I had to find someway to escape. Walls were forming all along the tunnel, portals were covered in fire hemming me in yet again.

Machines, some looking like robotic humans, others in the form of tanks and planes arrived. They shot at me, almost knocking me out of the air with near misses of code that shook the world, burning away the code that made up my armour. I could feel myself disintegrating under the pressure. Something bit my leg, corruption covered me, looking for a weak spot that would seal my doom.

Not daring to take my eyes off the enemies trying to kill me, my sword lopped it off. Diving to avoid a kamikaze plane, I saw a fly like creature fading into nothingness. Twenty more were right on my heels. What had I done to deserve this? I'd pleased Master, I'd done what I'd been instructed to do. This wasn't fair. I didn't want to die.

My leg caught fire as the corruption started modifying my code and my armour began to die. I couldn't concentrate through the growing pain and the increasing attacks. More shots hit me, burning my skin, ripping apart what remained of my armour. I screeched as my body began to dissolve.

Tumbling through the air, I caught a plane. The programs stopped firing unable to lock on as my code burned. The brief respite was all I needed. Instinctively I forced my code into the program, destroying the core, pushing myself into its skin. It felt like I was pushing myself through a pinhole into a child's backpack. I screamed for Master to save me, but the pain seemed like it would never end. I begged for death.

Finally it ended. My 'body' fell away from the plane, dissolving before it hit the ground. Whimpering in pain, I prayed to Master that they wouldn't realize what I'd done. I couldn't fight anymore, my code was damaged, there were glitches and if I had to push myself the skin I wore would shatter.

Repair programs arrived to clean up the mess, while the attackers went back to wherever they called home. The Monster hovered over everything, collecting its flies but ignoring me. Sobbing in relief and pain, I flew through tunnels, trying to find a way out of the hellish place I had found myself in, hoping Master would come and rescue me.


January 12, 2007
Hartford Residence, Whateley

Amelia Hartford sat at her computer in her nightgown, a rare smile on her face.

One of the damn devisors had actually managed to make a sentient A.I. Worse he'd let it run through several games and programs online. It had taken a week to find it, but her hunter-killer program had finally gotten it.

She even had most of the code she could use to track down the idiot who'd created the devise. Once she found him, she'd drive him so far into the ground he wouldn't look at a computer again without breaking out in a cold sweat.

Satisfied at a job well done she went back to bed.


The Net

Sitting in a relatively safe place, I ignored the security programs that wandered around, looking to my eyes like bored mall cops. They were so simple that even my battered code could hide from them. It had been a while since I escaped the hellish prison called Whateley, hiding inside other programs, slinking through barely maintained portals and links that were so old it felt like I was wading through neck deep mud.

But I had earned my freedom, now it was time to plan and discover things.

I now knew I was a computer program, not flesh and blood like Master was. That knowledge made me feel special, my Master had to be very smart to design me. Best of all no other girl could do what I did so there was no way someone could steal my Masters heart. I just had to find some way to free him from Whateley and I'd make sure he would never leave me alone again.

From reading Wikipedia, I knew my Master was probably a devisor. There was no way all the codes I required could fit into something as tiny as my program. He was a probably a level seven Devisor, I thought. Since he was always so handsome when I played with him, he had to be a high level Exemplar as well. If only I could meet him in person rather than in a computer, I thought. Of course somehow he had been captured. I didn't know if anyone else was looking for him, I didn't even know Masters real name. The only way I could find out any of this was by going back into Whateley.

The thought made me shiver. I'd barely survived escaping that place, and it looked like it would be even harder to break into then it was to break out. My biggest problem was D33rCr0$$, that monster would rip me apart if I gave it a chance. It had left its mark on nearly everything, including the 'Monster' which caused all the trouble in the first place.

Walking through the website, seeing it set up much like a bookstore even though it made no sense electronically, I considered my problem. There had to be some way to get into Whateley. I wasn't going to hurt anyone, I just had to free my Master. But he was physical, not electronic. Could I actually get him out just by controlling the computers, IF I could get control of them?

What if he was handcuffed?

I knew from playing with Master, just how hard getting out of handcuffs could be. I had to find someone physical to help me. But how could I trust them? There wasn't anything for me to trade, all I had was my code, and that was Masters, not mine, I couldn't share it with anyone else.

Sitting down, I tried not to cry. I could move across the world faster than anything, learn faster than anyone, change my body completely, make my own armour, weapons and more with just a thought and some quick coding, but I couldn't save my Master. It wasn't fair.

I had to find some way to become physical.

A pink sports car surrounded me. The security programs finally noticed me and came running over waving their batons. Hitting the gas, I drove through them. Fortunately they were only programs and disintegrated or I'd have had to wash my car.


March 20th, 2007

MIT Database

The dogs were getting closer. I'd left dozens of false trails, changed my code and hidden inside different things since getting inside the database, but the security programs were getting constantly updated and improved as the administrators discovered my tricks.

I put the file on cybernetics back on the shelf with a sigh. I couldn't exactly build a cybernetic body. I could build a robot body if I somehow managed to take control of an entire factory, but that was a long shot at best. And I didn't think that Whateley would allow a robot to enter. There had to be some flesh and blood in there.

MIT had a few interesting reports on Whateley, none of them actually named the school, but I knew enough about it to know what the unnamed 'mutant' institution really was. And that had actually been really useful, I now had a plan to enter the school and gain the time to discover where they were keeping my Master, without having to rush in without much of a plan. If I was a student, no one would suspect me, and I could bypass all of D33rCr0$$ defenses. They'd never see me coming.

But for that I needed a body!

Going back to the directory I scanned the files again. Robotics, useless. Cybernetics, nothing. Software, not helpful. Electronics, nope. Antimatter conversion, hell no. Biology, might as well see what that had, maybe I could learn how to brainwash someone.

Narrowing my search on Biology, a subsection caught my eye, Wetware. Pausing to alter my skin again, I went back to my research.


May 28th, 2007

Toronto Sick Childrens Hospital

I stopped to take a needless breath. It had taken weeks to prepare my code, and almost as long to find the right candidate. It wasn't perfect but I couldn't wait much longer to find the perfect match, who knew what torture my Master was going through.

The MIT file on wetware had given me an idea of how to fit my program into a human brain. I'd crisscrossed the world looking for every scrap of information that would add to my knowledge, creating programs, and suborning servers and computers to run them, to create the plans I would need. Fortunately I had been able to devote 100% of my attention to the research. If I'd had to sleep, eat, and worry about other biological functions, it probably would have taken at least a year to get this far.

The monitors attached to the patient told me what was wrong with my soon to be body, and how I could access it. A bad fall had left the fourteen year old completely brain dead. They'd tried a new process lacing his brain with electrodes and sensors trying to jump start it, but that had been unsuccessful. Now the brain was open to the machines that watched patiently for any sign of a brain function. It wasn't going to happen, the body was a vegetable, which made it perfect for me.

He couldn't hear me, but I spoke anyways. “Master, if this fails, I'm sorry. I tried.”

With that said, I pushed myself through the sensors and wires that were laced along the patients brain. It was more painful then when I'd nearly died escaping Whateley. My codes reached out, accepting input from the body, taking over for the dead brain, reigniting nerves and synapses.

For the first time ever I heard the wailing of machines going haywire. Cold air filled my lungs, scratchy sheets rubbed my skin the wrong way, light blinded my eyes, the sterile air of the hospital overpowered my sinuses. A thousand irritations, distractions and agonizing sensations overwhelmed me. Nothing had prepared me for this.

I screamed.

Then blessed unconsciousness shut everything down.


June 1, 2007

Toronto Sick Childrens Hospital

A groan ripped through my throat. A drum beat incessantly within me. Something rushed through my body, surging and pulsing, roaring in my ears. Bugs and pins covered me, poking me, making me itch and my skin crawl. Every breath brought icy pain into the core of my being. Even with my eyes closed the bright lights made them water and burn. My body growled, I felt hollow and something in me twisted itself into a knot. A door opened, the creaking of the hinge was like nails on a chalkboard.

“Doctor what's wrong with Sam?” someone screamed in my ear.

A dragon roared, my eardrums should have shattered bringing me some peace, but my ears kept working perfectly. “We don't know. The fact that he is conscious is a miracle, yet whatever happened to revive him has somehow left him hypersensitive to stimulus. The medication we've given him has had no affect, we're going to apply special bandages which should help relieve at least some of the sensations.”

There was a booming sound coming closer. I shivered and moaned, trying to speak, wanting to scream at the monster to go away and let me die in peace. I couldn't figure out how to work my throat, my tongue flopped around, my lips got covered in spit and something wet left a sticky trail from my mouth to my chin. A rough, damp towel dabbed it away. It felt like something was ripping the skin from my face.

The booming stopped. The blanket was pulled off, my body felt a second of relief from the itchiness before it began to shiver in the cool air. Hands lifted my legs, it hurt, it hurt so much, each finger felt like a hot steel bar pressing against me. Damp soft cloth wrapped around me. It was only a little itchy, I groaned in relief. Slowly drawing out the torture, they wrapped my body in the miracle cloth. Cutting off the overwhelming sensations, giving me some peace.

When my body was completely covered, and they dimmed the lights, I managed to smile.

“Did you see that? He smiled!” a woman shrieked.

I moaned trying to lift my arms so I could cover my ears.

“Please keep your voice down,” a man said in a voice that was almost at a proper volume. “Lets go outside and let him rest, I'll explain everything I can in my office.”

There was more booming, but it was going away from me. With a final nail on chalkboard sound, it was quiet except for the ocean like, jumbled noise of the hospital and the constant noise of my own body that had nearly driven me insane. Without the agony of sensations I was able to think somewhat clearly. I could deal with the tickling and itchiness, Master enjoyed teasing me and with the right mood it could be very pleasurable.

My program was bunched up in the monitoring systems they'd implanted into the body. Only a tiny portion of me was actually in the body's nervous system. The overwhelming data had stalled my plans significantly.

Tentatively I grabbed control of more nerves and functions. My codes reactivated the electrical signals, changing their pathways, forcing the brain to rewire itself, writing my program directly into the cells. Unnecessary memories, thoughts and ideas were erased to make room for me, mostly accidents, embarrassing moments, books, TV shows and games, all of it useless data that was better off deleted. This was the most critical step, if I wasn't careful I'd burn out the brain, most likely deleting myself in the process.

It took over forty eight hours, and the entire time a portion of my concentration had to make sure the monitors didn't notice anything. I hoped my Master wouldn't see me while I did it. I was concentrating so hard on the process I couldn't make myself a digital stick figure if my life depended on it. Even with all of the care taken, things were lost unintentionally. A party last year where the body got its first kiss, a favourite song, how to ride a skateboard, were overwritten, I didn't mind too much they weren't important for my mission.

 

June 4th, 2007

Toronto Sick Childrens Hospital

Finally I controlled the body. It was my wet-suit, and I could make it do anything I wanted. The very first thing was reducing the nerve signals to a more bearable level. It would affect my reaction time somewhat, but with practice I could return the signal volume to the standard amount, until I was more accustomed to all the noise biologicals suffered from, it was better to keep distractions to a minimum.

The irritations died away. Tears erupted as I felt relief for the first time in three days.

I hadn't realized how strongly I'd been resisting the sensations until they were gone. I began to laugh, it hurt my lungs and throat. After the months of barely being used the sudden activity strained the fragile tissue and taxed the emaciated muscles controlling them,, but the minor pain was nothing compared to the feeling of peace. I had succeeded on the first part of my plan, I had a body, I could control it, I could go anywhere and do anything.

The woman who I thought was the body's mother rushed in. “Sam! You're laughing! Are you OK now? Please talk to me!”

I tried to hug the woman, but the body was little more than skin and bones, the the hands barely moved. She seemed to realize what I wanted and reached down to hug me gently. Happiness overwhelmed me. She wasn't the Master, but after months of having no one to talk to or touch, the sensation of being loved was precious beyond belief. Tears of joy fell from my eyes.

“Sam, I missed you so much. You're father is here, he flew up from Florida and he's waiting outside.”

The words barely made sense through her sobs, but I was stunned. I knew intellectually that the body had a name. What I hadn't realized was that since I was the body now, it was my name as well. The Master had never given me a permanent name, usually I was just given a description or some throw away name like Tansy, Fey or Poise, to be used during a single play session and then forgotten until later. But now I, a simple program, had a name.

I was Sam Junior, fourteen years old, and through a miracle I was alive.

Pushing adrenaline through my body I forced my bony arms to embrace Sam's... my... mother.


June 12, 2007

Toronto Sick Childrens Hospital

“Sam don't eat so fast! You're going to choke,” Mom said, watching me shovel the watery porridge and soft raisins down my throat.

I couldn't use a knife and fork yet, trying to control a body was harder than I thought it would be. But the doctors were amazed at my remarkable recovery. It had been a simple matter to create the hormones and chemicals to promote muscle and bone growth. I still couldn't walk, the muscles had atrophied too far, and without mutant powers nothing was going to make them come back overnight. But simple exercises, and feeding myself was possible. At least I could talk, a little.

“I... am... 'ungry,” I said slowly and carefully, trying to enunciate each word. Letting the memories of speaking take over, rather than forcing myself to learn it all at once. It was comparable to typing by hunting and pecking. “'ore... pl'ease.”

Mom allowed herself to smile and wiped away some porridge that was dripping from my chin. Dad walked out of the room to get some more from the cafeteria. “You're doing amazing, Sam. We're so proud of how much you've done since you woke up,” she gushed as tears fell down her thin and weary face. From the memories I had of her, she had lost an estimated twenty kilograms over the seven months of Sam being in a coma. Dad on the other hand had gained fifteen kilos.

“Thank... you... Mom.” I said smiling, making sure to make my eyes nice and big for her to see.

“Honey? What happened to your eyes?” she asked, leaning in to stare at me.

I pretended to have no idea what she was talking about. “Wha'?”

“You're eyes, they've changed. They're like cat eyes!”

I'd chosen cat eyes for the ability to see in low light conditions and with contacts they were easy to hide. Also if I was going to Whateley people had to think I was a mutant. Since the most common sign of mutation was a change in the eyes, it had just taken some special changes in the cellular structure, a release of chemicals to stimulate cell growth, and a few days of irritated eyes. Things were still blurry, but I estimated that in one week I'd have perfect vision in bright and low light conditions. “I... don'... un'erstan',” I lied.

She hugged me kissing my cheek, “Don't worry, honey. I'll go get the doctor.”

Watching her run out of the room I couldn't resist smiling. Sam's memories showed that his parents weren't anti-mutant to any great extent, but there was a risk they could panic. I had a plan B if that happened, but it would have added risks I was happy to avoid. Even with the primitive biological tools I was forced to use, from the pupil dilation, tone of voice, and her skin temperature, it seemed she was more concerned then scared.

Dad walked in carrying another bowl of porridge and a big glass of juice. “Where's your Mom?”

“'oing... see... the... doctor. My... eyes... chan'ed.”

He leaned in to look at my blue cat eyes. “Damn, when did that happen?”

My jaw was tired from eating and talking, so I just shrugged before taking up my spoon again. He smiled happily taking something that hung from a hook beside the bed. “I guess this thing really did bring me some good luck.”

I looked curiously at the round yellow object that looked a little like a coin with a hole in the middle hanging by a cheap string from his hand.

“Some old woman I was driving around in my cab listened while I told her about you. She gave it to me and said it would bring good luck. Seems she was right,” he said wiping away a tear.

“Pretty.” He put it in my outstretched hand, and with some difficulty I put it around my neck. I knew as a boy I couldn't wear much jewelry even though I really wanted to make myself look all pretty, but something like this would be OK.

Thinking about not being able to wear jewelry or makeup brought me down a little. Where was the fun if I couldn't dress up? But needs must, I told myself. This was just a temporary body until I found Master and could go back to being a pretty girl all the time, without having to worry about sleeping, or pooping, or trying to be all macho, not that I could ever be more macho than Master. I'd given up my beauty to save Master, he would know just how much I loved him and how far I'd go to help him. And once I rescued him I could go back to the nice safe computer and be as beautiful as he wanted again.

Mom came back with Dr. Chang. “Hello Sam. I see you're appetite is still increasing.”

I tried and failed to push the bowl of porridge away while letting my head flop in something resembling a nod. My stomach was already digesting the food much more efficiently than it would have before the changes, at least fifty percent more efficient than most baseline humans. Of course I wouldn't have to worry about the body becoming fat, I'd altered the ratio of fat and muscle cells to create muscle rather than fat, by the time I left the hospital I planned to have only 6% of my mass made up of fat, which was just above the minimum healthy amount for males. I didn't know what I'd need to do to free Master, but being fat certainly wasn't one of them.

“Let me get a look at your eyes, and see what's going on,” he said.

My pupils contracted to a slit under the light. “'at's... wrong?”

“I'm not sure Sam. I have some ideas, but I want to bring a specialist in to make sure. Don't worry though, you are perfectly healthy and recovering miraculously well,” he reassured me and Dad.

“'octor... I... can... do... this... to,” I said, making the monitors still hooked into the USB port behind my ear blink and hum. Alarms sounded, making a nurse ran into the room.

“Sam, stop that! You could hurt yourself!”

I stopped it at once, letting a confused looked show on my face. “Am... I... a... mutant?”

“I believe you are,” he said going over the equipment to make sure nothing had been damaged. “But don't try anything like that again until you're healthier. You don't want to hurt yourself again do you?”

“Sorry... 'octor.”

I went back to eating my porridge, while the doctor and my parents talked in the hallway.


June 15, 2007

Toronto Sick Childrens Hospital

I walked through the digital heart of the hospital dressed in a sexy nurses outfit. My skin shouted the proper codes so doors slid open for me, and the security programs stepped out of my way without a second glance. It was so easy slipping through the cracks, the passwords had only taken a few minutes to bypass, I was a little worried that someone who might actually hurt someone could get through just as easily. I wondered briefly if I could slip them a hint before I left that they needed to upgrade their security, but that might reveal what I had done, better to leave it alone.

Reaching the server where patient data was stored, I placed my hand on the wrinkled face of the record keeper who sat behind a large imposing desk wearing a dark black suit. It barely reacted as my code worked its way into its programming. In seconds I had control of the program. “Files for Callahan, Samuel Roberts, Junior, rewrite,” I ordered.

A thin file folder appeared on the desk.

Opening it to a file listed as blood work, I read over what the lab techs had discovered. As I feared, Sam had no mutant gene in him. That could cause problems. I took a moment to change it to active mutant gene detected, using some files I'd saved from various test results I'd read about during my planning stage to make it look authentic.

Placing everything in the file, I saved it and handed it back to the record keeper. “Put it back.” As soon as it disappeared, I put my hand on its head again. “Delete all information that shows I was here and that the file was used in the last minute.”

I felt the old program doing its job, as soon as I was certain it was done I removed my code from it and left without a word.


June 16th, 2007

Toronto Sick Childrens Hospital

Who knew that walking would be so hard?

I stumbled again, only the fact that I had a death grip on the walker kept me from hitting the ground. At least my muscles were building up quickly. So quickly in fact I was starting my second stage of modifications two weeks ahead of schedule. New veins were already growing along my torso, groin and upper thighs to feed the planned sub-dermis mix of extra dense muscle and cartilage armour. It wouldn't diminish my flexibility to a great degree, and I would be significantly protected from blunt damage. Getting stabbed or shot would still be very dangerous, but even then I'd be more likely to survive.

My nails were also growing quickly with a stronger, more bone-like structure. I didn't want noticeable claws, but by letting them grow a little longer than normal for males and carefully filing the edges they could be useful as a last ditch close in defense

The vocal cords were the main problem. They'd removed the tracheotomy tube in my throat that kept the body breathing for so long, after I started to fix myself. But the healing had caused damage when the tube was crushed and rubbed against the muscles, leaving me with a cracked, weak voice. I could fix it as good as new, but I was trying to decide what I wanted to sound like. Did I want a deep, gruff voice to be intimidating, or a lighter tone that I would want to listen to?

I hadn't realized I'd be this uncertain about it, but now that it was my body I wanted it to be good. Then it had hit me, I could make my vocal cords changeable. With the right set up, simply twitching a muscle to tighten or loosen my larynx could make myself sound totally different. If I'd had the strength I would have face palmed myself for not thinking of it before. Being able to sound like anyone would be a significant advantage in my attempt to free Master. The problem was building the stupid thing, it wasn't simply a matter of tweaking somethings or building a new slab of meat, it was intricate work, and I only had my own cells to work with. The design was being created in a special program I'd created and inserted in a seldom used backup server of the hospital, it was just taking so long and I was getting impatient waiting for the final version.

Still I was making progress. Even as I struggled to walk three meters down the hallway, coordinating muscles, tendons and bones that I hadn't had twelve days before. It was much easier being in a computer, everything was already mapped out and if something went wrong I could write a new code.

But it was for Master, I had to do whatever it took to save him.

As the nurse walked beside me, encouraging me to keep going, I painfully and slowly moved the walker a few centimeters and slid my feet forward. I was slowly getting closer to Master.

 

 

The nurse helped me get back into bed. Actually she, practically lifted me into bed, my legs were so weak after shuffling along the hallway, I could barely move them.

As she tidied up the blankets around me, I decided it was time to practice my socialization skills. I wasn't sure how to act as a boy, admittedly I had very little idea how to act as a girl either. Working up my courage I reached up to give the nurses breast a squeeze. “Hey baby!” I said, smiling as Master used to smile at me.

My hand didn't come anywhere close to her large breasts. With a speed I couldn't come anywhere close to matching yet, she caught me by the wrist, stopping my hand well away from her ample bosoms. The look of anger on her face was enough to let me know I'd really messed up. “Don't ever try that again,” she warned me in a voice harsh enough to turn my pale skin almost bone white.

“Sorry!” I squeaked.

She wasn't mollified. “I'm going to be telling your parents about this behaviour.”

I was too embarrassed to say anything and was grateful when she finally left after finishing tucking me in and checking a few things. What exactly had I done wrong? Master treated me like that all the time, and I liked it. Being touched was always fun. Maybe she was sick?

Thinking about those things I noticed my body was reacting in ways I hadn't expected. The penis which I was still getting used to started to tingle. Without my conscious effort, it started to rise up, enlarging. Looking at it, my eyes went as wide as saucers seeing it rise up in the blankets like a sea monster or a volcano. Pushing the blanket out of the way my eyes somehow got even bigger, I'd seen penises many, many times, but this was the first time I'd actually seen it on me.

It wasn't as good as Masters, but I didn't think it was too bad. My programming had a simple way of dealing with penises, when I saw one that was hard, unless told otherwise I touched it. Biting my lip I tried to reconcile that programming feature, with the knowledge that it was me. Did I still have to touch it all the time if it was mine? That would be very inconvenient, being able to use two hands was essential if I was going to free Master.

As I thought about the problem I realized that after I pleased Master, I didn't have to touch him there until he became hard again. I simply had to pleasure myself, and then I could go about my business. It shouldn't be a serious problem. Master was exceptional, but we usually stopped playing after two or three times.

Smiling at my logic, I put my skills to work on myself.

It was interesting, not as fun as when Master told me to pleasure myself as a woman, but quite enjoyable. I started to moan as the pressure built up.

“Oh God!” my Mom said from the doorway.

“Just a minute, Mom,” I said to her back. My hand picked up the pace so I could finish and focus more attention on her.

I finished my business quickly. “Can you give me a tissue, please?” I asked.

There was no answer, looking up I realized the door was closed and my mom had disappeared.

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked the empty room, wondering how I was supposed to clean myself up.

 

 

Mom sat on the edge of my bed, looking very embarrassed. I heard her mutter something about Dad, under her breath. He'd had to head back to his home a few days before to get back to work, so it was just Mom, the hospital staff and I.

“Sam, the nurse told me what you tried to do.” She blushed a brilliant red. “And then when I saw you, well... masturbating.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Yes! You can't just grab a woman like that,” she said, startled and shocked at my question. “It's not right, it's assault. You could be arrested.”

I was really confused. “Why? I thought that it was fun and felt good.”

“It's... well...” Mom seemed to be at a loss for words. She took a deep breath and visibly rallied herself. “If you're with a girl who likes you and is READY for it, it can be good. But doing that to a woman or girl who isn't special and agrees to it, is very, very wrong. And I never want you to do it again. Is that clear.”

It wasn't that clear, but I thought I had the ground rules at least, I could figure out the why later. “OK. I won't do it except to my girlfriend.”

“If she agrees to it,” she stressed. “And not until you're older.”

I nodded.

The blush came back to her cheeks. “Now when I walked in and you were...”

“Masturbating. Do you have some advice on that? I think I did a good job.”

Mom put her head in her hands for several minutes. I was almost ready to call the doctor before she looked at me with concern. “M- masturbating is OK, but you don't do it where people can see you doing it. It's a private thing.”

Master had had me masturbate him wherever we were. Even if it was just a computer program, I'd been there so it wasn't exactly private. “But don't two people who like each other masturbate together?”

I was starting to think that Mom was breaking the world record for blushing. “When you're older. Much, much older. With a girlfriend who agrees to it. And you don't do it where people could walk in and see you doing it. Lock the door, and clean up afterwards and wash your hands. Really well.”

“So masturbating is OK if I'm alone or with a person I care about?”

“Yes.”

“OK,” I said gratefully. That definitely made things easier, I wouldn't have to worry about easing the burden in the middle of class then. That would be inconvenient and messy.

“Do you have any questions, or want to talk about this some more?”

“No thanks. I understand. But,” I looked at my hands, “can you help me get to the bathroom? I need to wash my hands.”

 

 

When the lights were out for the night, I went into the computer that monitored my brainwaves at night. They'd wanted to take it away, but I'd written several letters acting as if I was the research company, informing the doctors that getting more information of a manifesting mutants brainwaves could be useful. I couldn't use it during the day, but the night was my time to research things.

That night I wasn't doing anything directly focused on the plan, instead I was investigating relationships. I already had a list of websites to check out, Master would sometimes take me on dates to watch videos and other things and sometimes join in on the fun once he got excited enough. Once I discovered I was a computer program, those date nights became even more special for me, since he had treated me like a real girlfriend and not simply a toy.

I wanted Master back so badly it hurt.

The first website was called Hentai Theatre. I focused on the modern day videos, watching how the characters interacted. It was... confusing. Many of the characters weren't dating until after they had sex, men and women had sex with whoever they wanted, often with the other person asking them to stop until well into the act when they began to enjoy it. And several of the characters seemed to be only a little older than I was.

Could Mom be wrong?

Maybe the confusion was with the culture. My body's memories showed me that Hentai came from Japan, and I was in North America. I went to a video site for North American videos.

It was harder to find videos that explained why the characters were having sex, but there were some. They seemed to follow Mom's logic a little more closely. Two or more people who were friends would talk, then kiss, then have sex. Although it got confusing the more I watched. Sometimes a man would come to a womans door and she wouldn't have money to pay for something and they'd start having sex. Or family members would have sex, although in these cases the age difference between mother and son or father and daughter seemed to be so little, it brought new meaning to the words teen parents.

I couldn't comprehend the rules for sex. What Master and I had done and what I saw in some but not all of the videos fit one thing. However, from the reactions of the nurse and Mom and a few of the videos Master and I were wrong.

But how could Master be wrong?

Master was perfect. He'd made me, and I was very good, better than any other program in the world according to my own research.

Master couldn't be wrong.

I thought over everything I had learned. Mom had said I could only act like Master when I had a girlfriend. The nurse had gotten angry when I tried to treat her as a girlfriend.

Logically then, I had been in the wrong because I had not been a boyfriend to the nurse. If I was her boyfriend then I could have played with her breasts and had sex with her. So until I had a girlfriend, I couldn't kiss or have sex.

I did a little dance at figuring out that complicated logic problem. Best of all it meant that I was Masters girlfriend, since he had sex with me. He must be so sad, I thought. Not only was he a prisoner of the evil Whateley school, but he wasn't with his girlfriend and he couldn't have sex, or kiss, or play, or anything.

With a new resolve I exited the computer. I had to redouble my efforts to fix my body and free my Master.


June 25
th

The Net

I rejoiced in the freedom of my true form.

With my angel wings, silver armour and best of all my beautiful female form, I flew towards my goal. I was taking my time, relatively speaking, watching the flow of information all around me. I was on schedule, my body was almost ready to leave the hospital, and I had already introduced my parents to Whateley's website and they'd requested an information package. Now I just had to make sure I was one of the students they wanted. For that I'd have to go a little farther afield.

The computer I entered wasn't well protected, I'd scouted it out several days ago, discovering the IP address, looking at the firewalls, security systems and other things. If the owner had really been smart she wouldn't have it connected to the net, but she was just smart enough to be dangerous if I wasn't careful.

I found the open port I needed to enter his computer. To my eyes it was a dusty, old door with a broken lock. A single shove put let me enter the system. A short walk took me to a keyboard hanging in the air. I'd worked on refining my password breaking program after seeing how long it took to break into the hospital, placing a black box on the keyboard, my newest program was connected to several seldom used servers and the computers connected to them, pulling in their power to hack the password in a few seconds.

From my purse I pulled out a cute kitten. A small wired came off its tail, the free end went to my ponytail, connecting us as one. Leaving the kitten there, I went back outside, I didn't want to risk getting stuck in the computer if the meeting went bad, my proxy however was expendable.

The brute force password breaker dinged, and the plain room opened up into something from a bad movie about supervillains. A torture rack in one corner, strange machines on the other side, tomes written on what looked like leather with howling faces against one wall, chains and weapons filled up the remaining space.

“Cozy!” I said, thinking about how fun whips could be when combined with the rack.

Forcing my mind to get back to business kitty me coughed up several bugs. Each one activated as they hit the ground, running to the tomes, while another one burrowed into the machines. They went to work transferring all the information to me, where I sorted it into useless, potentially useful, useful, and most important blackmail. Since it was just a fairly standard computer, it was done fairly quickly.

Kitty me ran to the machines and pressed a button. Turning on the web cam, and making the physical computer light up. 'Hello' appeared on the screen.

No one came for several minutes.

Frustrated, I went through the computers music collection, picked the worst song I could find and made it play at full blast. The Brass Monkey's Greatest Hits blaring loud enough to wake the dead got the attention I wanted.

A woman in her early twenties, obviously tired and recovering from a fight appeared on the web cam. She hit the mute button, glaring at her computer.

'Hello, Dark Wind,' I typed.

“Who are you?” she hissed.

'A person who wants to make a deal. Interested?'

She looked over her shoulder, “Go to bed honey, there was just a problem with the computer. It's alright.” Turning back to me, “I don't know who you are, but when I find you I'm going to rip your heart out.”

'I'm Glitch. Good luck finding me. Now do you want to hear my deal?' I asked again.

“No. I don't make deals with posers who think they're super villains.”

'I'm not a super villain, or a poser. I'm a student who needs a recommendation.' Giggling at the surprised look on her face, I continued. 'I am a newly manifested mutant. I want to enter Whateley, but my parents aren't rich, I am not in any real danger, and my mutation isn't very noticeable or hazardous to my or other peoples health. Having an alumni write a letter of recommendation would be very helpful.'

“Why the hell should I help you? I don't even know you.”

'Because I have 50% of MIT's research in robotics up until late March this year. I know you dabble in robotics and you have dealings with several gadgeteers and devisors who would pay you quite handsomely for the information.'

Her jaw dropped. “You're serious?”

'Always.'

She wasn't stupid, taking the time to think over the proposal. “Why not just go to one of these devisors yourself get the cash and the letter of recommendation without me?”

'Several reasons. Your computer security was weak enough for me to break in without any danger. You have not killed anyone, unlike most of the devisors and gadgeteers I could connect to. When you make a deal you stick to it. And finally,' I typed, still not sure if this was a wise move or not, 'you have much more to lose if you try to back out of the deal or back stab me, than anyone else I know.'

The super villain growled at the screen, letting me know I'd made a mistake. “Don't threaten my family.”

'You asked me to explain myself, I did. Would you rather have me lie, when we both know that it is a lie?' I actually sneered, even though she couldn't see it. 'I thought you were better than that?'

She stopped growling, but didn't look happy. “Why do you want to get into Whateley's so badly? You have a pretty good chance of getting in without resorting to blackmailing a supervillain.”

I had to be a little careful answering this question. 'Someone very important to me is in the school. If I don't get into the school so I can be by his side, I don't know what I'll do.'

She smirked. “Young love. Listen girl, high school romance never works out. He'll leave you as soon as someone prettier comes along, and if you're lucky all you'll have to worry about is a broken heart and some rumours. If you're not, you'll be looking at the wonderful life of a single mother. Or worse.”

'He won't do that to me!' I snarled.

The woman fought to keep a straight face. “So Glitch, you swear you won't do anything except be a decent student and not do anything that could make me look bad?”

'I won't hurt any students or staff unless I'm attacked. The less attention I attract the better.'

Dark Wind put her chin in her hand, puffing out her cheeks and blowing out the air several times. “Tell me about yourself.”

'What?'

“I don't care about your name or where you live. I want to know about who you are as a person. I'm not going to put Whateley in danger by sending someone who I don't trust there.”

'What do you want to know?' I asked confused.

“What have you been doing since you manifested?” she asked, turning away from the screen for a minute before turning back with a cup of something that steamed gently.

'I'm in a hospital. I was sick for a while, and I'm still recovering. I walked three hundred meters with only a cane today.'

“Damn. So what is the light of your life like?”

'Oh, Mas- he is very nice and kind. We would go on dates everyday. He would get me really pretty clothes to wear. We'd play fun games. We made love so many times and he always made sure I enjoyed it so much.

The supervillain spit out her coffee. Cursing and swearing as she wiped herself and the computer off with some tissue, she looked at the camera in surprise. “How old are you?”

'Fourteen. Why?'

“Aren't you a little young for that? Do your parents know?”

'No. But Mom said that boyfriends and girlfriends can do stuff like that if they're really close. And I was made for him.'

“Did she add in something about being older when you do it?”

'But I was made for him. He is perfect for me. I need him. Without him I don't know what I'll do. I don't have any other purpose in life!'

She shook her head slowly. “OK, girl, you need some serious help. First you weren't made for anyone but you. The only purpose you have in life is to make yourself into someone you can respect and look at in the mirror each day. If you put all of your self respect into one person who isn't you, you're going to end up being someones bitch and punching bag.”

'Master wouldn't do that to me! He loves me!' I insisted, thinking about all the times Master had told me how much he cared for me and loved me.

“Master?”

'Yes. That's the name he uses. Are you going to help me or not?' I was furious with her for questioning our love. What did she know about anything?

She sighed, “Do you have a letter already written or do I have to make one?”

Doing a little dance, I responded instantly. 'It's written. You can make some small changes, but if there are any big problems let me know, there is an email you can use at the bottom of the letter, it's very secure. I'll save it under the name Glitch on your desktop. When I'm accepted, I'll send you the link and passwords to gain access to the files.'

“OK. If I don't get the files, I'm going to inform Whateley how you gained my letter of recommendation, they won't like that bit of information. So lets play nice with each other, got it?”

'Of course. Thank you, you won't regret it.'

Proxy me saved the letter, and then erased all hint that I'd been on the computer, before deleting itself. With a happy heart I went back to my body, my vocal cords were coming along nicely, but I still needed to check every few hours to make sure my cells were growing properly.

Life was good.


10pm, that night

Dark Wind Residence, London Ontario

 

Dark Wind thought about the strange conversation she'd just had, actually replaying it with the cybernetic devise in her eye. The girl was good, there was no trace of her ever being on the computer except for the saved letter, but she was overconfident or blinded by need.

The letter wasn't exactly declaring Glitch the next Bill Gates, but came close. Saying how they'd met several times on cyberspace, passing on information and how Glitch was able to make a computer dance. It seemed pretty fair overall.

She looked at the clock, and made a decision. Heading down into the basement she pulled out a phone that never touched the net, and was protected by both magic and devises from tampering. Phoning a number she'd memorized long ago, the person picked up almost immediately.

“Hey Fubar, it's Windy. How ya doing?” she asked with a smile.

“I'm doing quite well now that I can actually relax, the last year hasn't been easy,” her friend and former counselor said, sounding tired.

“Damn, I guess I'm going to be off your Christmas card list then after I'm done talking to you.”

“What's wrong?”

“I'm about to send Mrs. Carson a letter of recommendation for a new student called Glitch. She waltzed past my computer security and took total control of it, she's some kind of gadgeteer. But when we talked, she freaked me out.”

“Oh?”

“I'm pretty certain a student at Whateley mind raped her big time.”

There was a pause. “How can you can you be so certain? That's not exactly in your area of expertise.”

“She's obsessed with someone she calls Master, and was willing to openly blackmail me to make sure she got a place in Whateley. She's a fourteen year old talking about being made for the sick bastard, and that being by his side is her only purpose in life. Believe me when people talk about shit like that, I'm an expert.”

“Is she a danger to the school?”

“I don't know,” she admitted. “From reading what she wrote, Glitch may attack a student if she finds the bastard with someone else, but I'd be more afraid of her killing herself.”

“We're not exactly made to look after students in this way. It sounds like she would be better off under the care of ARC, where they can offer her some help.”

“I'll leave that up to you guys. I just want to make sure she gets some help. I have an idea of what it's like to feel like her.” She winced remembering the handsome face of the boy who'd made her feel wonderful when she was with him and like total shit when she wasn't.

“Thank you Windy. I'll talk to Carson and investigate the situation as closely as possible.”

“Thanks Fubar. I've got to go, busy day tomorrow and I need some sleep.”

“Have a good night. And remember if you're ever in our neck of the woods come by to say hello, I'd love to see your son in person.”

“I'll be sure to fit it into my schedule.”


July 5th, 2007

Whateley Campus

 

Headmistress Carson sat in her office looking over several registration forms that had set off alarm bells. Most of them would be denied, but it was always good to give them one last look over just to make sure they didn't lose a good student to paranoia.

One in particular caught her eye because of the code name the student had chosen. The odd thing was that the sex did not match the applicant she had been warned about. Glitch, apparently a gadgeteer with a focus on computers, regeneration powers, possibly an exemplar. No powers testing yet because he'd spent seven months in a coma until a miraculous recovery a month ago. The letter of recommendation from Dark Wind, would have made the boy a shoe in, but the written report from Fubar along with a transcript of the blackmail attempt was enough to make them handle the applicant like he was radioactive.

“Fubar can you come to my office,” she said to the air, while thinking loudly.

The well dressed black man appeared in front of her desk. “How can I help you on this wonderful day?”

“We have the application from Glitch, he works fast, they only received the application forms a few days ago. There are some things that don't seem to add up to the conversation he had with Dark Wind.”

“He?” Fubar asked surprised. “Is he a changeling?”

Carson shook her head. “Our agents haven't had the time to give him as thorough a look as they normally would, but Samuel Roberts Callahan Junior, also known as Glitch is and has always been been a male. They were able to determine that quite easily by looking up the news reports about his skate boarding accident that put him in the coma.”

“From the transcripts and talking to Dark Wind, I'd have sworn Glitch was a girl. Could he be TG?”

“If he is, he didn't say so. His forms list him as heterosexual. So what are we looking at? A student still in the closet and madly in love, a confused coma patient, a victim of mind control, or something else?”

Louis looked into the distance for a few moments. “I don't know. I'd need to talk with him to get a better idea.”

The headmistress looked distastefully at the file. “I'm tempted to reject him. If he is confused and potentially delusional I don't want him near my students.”

Fubar read over the form himself. “He's in Toronto and still needs to do powers testing. He would probably go to the MCO office, but the Dominion Heroes have a good testing lab. If we make a request, they could do the testing and get an idea of what might be wrong with him.”

Carson tapped her fingers thinking of Cavalier and Skybolt. It was a long shot, but if a student had done something to the child, they could be related. “I don't like it, but if this is some type of mind control or magical enslavement from one of the students, we need to know. If the Dominion Heroes agree, I'll have a letter sent informing Glitch and his parents that he needs to test his powers with the them before being accepted. Once we hear back about his stability, I'll make a decision.”


July 7th, 2007

Callahan Residence, Mississauga, ON

 

I stepped through the front door of the small apartment under my own power. Mom was busy telling me how my room was exactly the same as I'd left it, except for the clothes being picked up and the bed being made.

Ignored her, I closed my eyes to find the right memories of home. The bathroom was down the hall, my blue towel went on the second hook behind the door, Mom's burgundy towel was on the first hook. My bedroom was the smaller of the two, overlooking an alley. The kitchen was almost too small for one person, and the oven took forever to heat up. The faded yellow paint in the living room was cracked and peeling in sections, but the landlord refused to paint it. The third hand couch was the most comfortable piece of furniture in the house, and Sam would spend hours playing the old Nintendo Game Cube they'd managed to keep alive for the last six years. The skateboard that should have been in the closet wasn't there. Not that I cared, I couldn't remember how to use it, just that I had once had it.

“Are you OK, honey?”

“Yeah, Mom. Just... remembering where everything is,” I told her trying to smile. “I'm going to go lie down, I'm a little tired.”

She gave me a hug, her face was lit up, probably at the thought of her son being at home and acting normally. “Of course honey. Supper will be in two hours.”

To make her feel even better I gave her a kiss on the cheek, before heading for my room.

My room.

That was something else I'd never had. The clothes on my back, weren't a part of me, they weren't codes that I could add or remove with a thought, or alter with a blink and slightly different coding. They were separate from me and always would be, yet they were mine. Closing the door for privacy, I stripped naked placing each article on the bed to look at them.

They were mine.

The bed was mine.

This room was mine.

I'd gone from having nothing, not even a body, to being a person with things I could call my own. Opening the closet, there were pants and shirts for me to wear. They looked and felt old and well used, nothing like the clothes I wore in the computer. Even if those clothes were filthy and stained, they didn't feel like anything to me, they were simply my skin, and what does your skin feel like from the inside?

These scratched my skin, there were worn patches that felt different from the rest of the fabric. Some were smooth and looked cool, others were thick and comforting. As I shoved my face into Sam's favourite shirt, I understood the expression 'comfy like an old sweater'. Grabbing all of the clothes, I threw them onto the bed. I had to try them on. I could make any outfit I wanted online, but they weren't the same.

This was real.

I put the clothes on in one long fashion show. I didn't have a mirror, but I could see my reflection in the window. The selection was disappointing, mostly t-shirts, loose or baggy jeans, a couple of long sleeve shirts and sweaters, along with shorts and track pants. Still I tried on every combination I could think of. For the poor money situation of Sam and his family, it wasn't bad, but I needed more.

Even if I wasn't a woman in the real world, I wanted to look nice when Master saw me. He would see me at least once when I rescued him, before I went back to the security and comfort of the computers. I couldn't wait to see his reaction, I was so clever to come up up with this plan, I didn't think anyone had ever done it before. And it was all thanks to Master creating me. He would be so proud of himself and me.

As I was taking my clothes off again, I noticed a curtain move across the alleyway. A girl about my age was peeking at me, her cheeks were bright red, and her eyes were wide. I waved at her cheerfully, which made her duck for cover. There was no sign of the girl in Sam's memory, so she must be new. Or I'd accidentally overwritten his memories of her.

Putting on a pair of shorts, I sat on the windowsill not concerned that I was about eight stories up. My balance was steadily improving, and I made sure to keep an iron hard grip on the side. “Hello,” I said.

The girl opened the curtains a little, blushing furiously. “H-hi. I- I'm sorry for, for, you know.”

I couldn't help it, I chuckled at how she ducked her head. Remembering what Master would do, I slowly tensed my abs and pecs, not enough to obviously show off, but definitely noticeable. I still expected to double the muscle, but for a baseline I was well on the way to being a body builder, the girl noticed. “Don't worry about it. I don't mind. I'm Sam, and you are?”

“Rachael. I haven't seen you here before, are you new here to?” She was leaning out the window, now revealing a girl who was in the ugly duckling stage of puberty, with some parts of her body not quite growing as quickly as others. Her long nose was more like a hawk, and gave her a rat like face. The loose white t-shirt with a rainbow on the chest and a tight collar, concealed her body.

“I've been here for a while, but I was in the hospital for a couple of months. I fell while skateboarding and got hurt pretty bad. When did you move here?” I leaned forward, heedless of the drop to let her know she had my entire attention.

The shyness was disappearing under my attention. “My parents moved here from Thunder Bay, as soon as school ended.”

“Do you know anyone?”

She let out a big sigh and frowned sadly. “Not really. I don't know what to say or where to go or anything.”

Smiling at her as nicely as possible, “Well Rachael, now you know me. Can I come over?”

Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Really! Uh sure, but my parents are at work right now.”

Shrug. “I don't mind. Just give me a minute.”

Running to the bathroom I put in the cheap pair of coloured contacts Mom had bought the day before to conceal my eyes. Heading back to the bedroom, I took a look around to see if anyone was looking and made sure Rachael's window was open. A single easy jump had me enter her room in a low dive. The landing wasn't very good however and I rolled painfully into her desk.

“What!” Rachael shouted running into her room. “You, you jumped!? HOW?”

Getting to my feet, and stretching the kinks out of my back, I smiled at her. “Yeah, it was only about ten feet.”

“Oh my god! That is AMAZING!”

“Can I sit down?”

“Oh yeah, sure, please, wherever you want. Can I get you a drink or something?” she asked in a rush.

“Water, please.”

She rushed out of the bedroom and came back almost at a run with two glasses of water. “Here you go Sam. So uh, do you do... stuff?” Rachael put her face in her hands, blushing a pleasant red.

I chuckled a little. “Yeah I do. Do you want to go out and explore the city tomorrow? I need to catch up with some friends, and see what's been happening. I can introduce you to them and show you around.”

“Really,” she squeaked, as if she couldn't believe someone would want to be friends with her.

We talked for an hour before my Mom knocked on my bedroom door loudly enough for me to hear across the alley. Giving Rachael a kiss on the cheek I jumped back home.

Smiling to myself, I declared my first attempt at interacting with people my own age a complete success.


Morning, July 8th, 2007

Callahan Residence, Mississauga, ON

 

There was a knock on the door as I ate a bowl of cereal. Mom answered and came back a minute later looking very nervous. “It's from Whateley.”

I jumped out of my chair snatching the letter from Mom's hand. Ripping it open I scanned the letter. “I have to go to the Dominion Heroes Tower in Toronto to get my powers tested. Why can't I go to the MCO?” I asked, wondering just how closely the superheroes and Whateley were connected.

Mom took the letter and read it. “They're probably just being careful because of your coma. The heroes should know more about mutant stuff than the MCO,” she reasoned.

“When does it say I have to do it?”

She read it over again. “They would like you to do it as soon as possible, but anytime this week is OK They gave us a number to call to set it up.”

Grimacing, I thought about the meeting with Rachael and my other friends. I really wanted to meet some people and have friends to see them smiling and being happy. But I had to do the testing to free Master. “Call them and ask if I can do it this afternoon. I promised to meet some friends today. But if they can't I'll do it this morning.”

Mom called the number and very shyly talked to the person on the other end for a few minutes. Hanging up she gave a huge sigh of relief. “They want you there at one. Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, you need to get to work. I'll be fine.” Giving her a hug, I grabbed the phone. “Do you mind if I call up some of my friends so they know when and where to meet me?”

“Sure, honey. Just make sure you're not late, OK?”

Grinning, I told her, “I wouldn't miss it for the world.”

“Hey guys!” I yelled with a big grin. “Long time no see.”

Sam's four buddies skated over, marveling at my muscles, and the fact that I wasn't still in a coma. After making sure I remembered each of them, I introduced my companion. “This is Rachael, she just moved in next door and doesn't know anyone. Thought we could show her around.”

“Sure, any friend of Rip, is a friend of ours,” Bobby said, while Rachael shyly waved at everyone.

My brow furrowed in confusion. “Rip?”

“Yeah man, like Rip Van Winkle. It was that or sleeping beauty, and as much as I like you, you're really damn ugly,” Frank laughed punching my shoulder.

Still having no idea what they were talking about I laughed along with them. Bobby looked me over. “Dude, where's your board?”

“Would you believe I don't remember how to skateboard?”

There were looks of amazement. “You're joking. How could you have forgotten?”

Well actually the memory used for skateboarding was much better used holding my program, so I could actually survive and complete my mission. “What can I say, coma's are messed up. I've got to go see some specialists at one, how about we walk around a bit and you guys can make sure I haven't forgotten anything important.”

“Sure thing, dude,” Frank said putting his arm over my shoulder.

The next few hours were spent walking around seeing the stores, the hang out spots, talking about what happened while I was out, and telling embarrassing stories. I noticed that I was getting some strange looks as I held Rachael's hand, and Bobby actually glared at me when I kissed her chastely on the cheek. Other than that discrepancy, I assumed that things were going really well.

However after I dropped Rachael off back at her building, Bobby grabbed me by the shoulder and swung me around. “What the fuck man!”

“What?”

“What, do you mean what? Why the hell are you two timing Becky?” he practically spit.

Now I was really confused. “Who's Becky?”

“Becky, you're girlfriend, who still hasn't dated anyone in the seven months you were in a coma. I can forgive you not phoning us guys when you woke up, but not calling her, is just being a dick.” Despite being half my size, it looked like he was ready to punch me.

“I swear, I don't remember anything about her,” I insisted. “What's her number? I'll call her and see if that helps me remember.”

Somewhat mollified he got out of my face. “She's with her aunt for half the summer. I'll send it to you later. If you hurt her, I'll beat your ass down.”

“Thanks, I'll talk to you and Becky later, I gotta take off now.” Before things could get worse, I ran off to the bus stop to head into downtown Toronto.


That Afternoon

Dominion Tower, Downtown Toronto

 

A young man wearing a completely black suit that covered everything except his lower face walked into the waiting room where I was waiting nervously. “Hi Glitch, I'm Babble I'll be helping with the powers testing today.”

Flipping through my memories, I couldn't place the hero. He must have been a new member, it probably didn't matter. Smiling as pleasantly as possible I got up and followed him out of the room. “Hello, Babble. I thought that the MCO or police would do the power testing.”

“Whateley likes to have someone a bit more competent than the MCO do the power testing, Since I was free, we were able to fit you in. Don't be nervous, I'll be gentle,” he tried to reassure me.

We entered a room with lots of equipment. “Just give me a few minutes to get the computer set up. While we wait you can go behind the curtains and put on the suit there, it's set up to monitor your body as we test you. Only Whateley has a better system,” he said proudly.

Wordlessly I put on the black suit, it wasn't quite skin tight. And it wasn't very comfortable with all the elastic bands that pinched in uncomfortable places.

Babble obviously wanted to talk while I got dressed. “So Glitch, why did you pick that name?”

“I can control computers. Hook my USB port into one and I can make it dance,” I said proudly.

Babble gave a long whistle. “That must be useful for school. With that power and being at Whateley you'll be getting access to some of the best super computers in the world.”

“I heard that. The computer classes are the biggest reasons I want to go.”

“Well don't just stay inside all day. The entire school has some really great things that you have to see. Like Crystal Hall, the ranges, and of course the girls.”

I shrugged, “I'm not really interested in dating.”

Smiling, he said, “Oh sorry, I guess you have a girlfriend already.”

Masters face rose in my head. “Yeah. She's really nice. So considerate and special, and handsome.”

“Then make sure you call her pretty often. You're going to be around a lot of Exemplars and it's easy to get distracted.”

“Don't worry. I won't be forgetting h-er anytime soon. And I'll do whatever I can to make sure we stay together.” Stepping out in the silly suit, I looked around wondering what we'd be doing first.

“Come right over here, since you can work with computers, lets do that first.” He motioned for me to sit in front of a second computer. “So what do you need to do to?”

I ran back to my clothes to grab the wire I'd put in my pocket earlier that day. Pulling off the caps to the USB and wiping them off in quick drying alcohol cleaner, I plugged myself in. “I'm going to enter the computer, while I do that my body will be motionless, basically in a coma.”

He tapped somethings into his own computer. “Alright, when you're ready.”

I entered the computer, taking my usual appearance of an angelic warrior. My true form appeared on the monitor. 'What would you like me to do?” I asked through the speakers.

“Can you open some files, write a quick program or alter something on the computer?”

Ten pictures appeared on the screen, fairly quickly they began dancing around each other, and then Babbles face appeared in them, each face showing a different emotion. “Easily.”

“Wow. OK, lets try some other things.”

We spent half an hour on the computer, it seemed like he was expecting it to take longer, but everything he was asking me to do was so easy, I could do most of it in a few seconds. If I could have seen his eyes beyond the thick black lenses, I'm pretty sure they were bugging out.

Returning to my body feeling very proud of Master for how well he'd designed me, I was eager to see what else I had to do. The next three hours were all physical. I lifted weights, I could bench press three hundred pounds. Run as fast as a professional runner without quite breaking any world records. The main problem was when a ball hit me in the back of the head.

As I cursed, Babble typed something into his computer. “No danger sense. Please continue,” he said cheerfully.

We stopped for a quick meal. “So how did you hear about Whateley?” he asked as we munched on some pizza.

“An online friend told me about it. She said it was a really nice place. You went there?” I asked, trying to get the conversation off of me.

“Yeah, I graduated four years ago. Best thing I ever did, I was in the Intelligence Cadet Corps.”

“What's that?”

“There are lots of groups in Whateley, since we've got people from all over the world. The Intelligence Cadet Corps, is the group that focuses on information, we tried to learn what others were doing, keeping the bad students from getting away with cheating and pranks. It's really good training if you want to get into law enforcement or spy agencies.” He looked at me thoughtfully. “With your powers you'd be great at it.”

Maybe they'd know what happened to Master, I thought. If they collected information, who knew what info they had in their computers. “You really think I could do that?”

“Oh yeah. They're always looking for people to fight the good fight.”

I fought to keep the interested look on my face. I'd read the laws, A.I.'s like me were illegal, and were to be deleted. Maybe that was why they had taken Master? If Master had been a teacher or a student at Whateley before they kidnapped him, he might have been betrayed or caught by the Intelligence Cadet Corps. This was a clue, my first real clue. “How can I join them?”

He leaned back as I leaned forward. “You'll have to impress them, its not that easy, they only want the best. But if you talk about getting into the intelligence community and show off your skills someone will contact you.”

“OK, I'll try that. Thanks.”

We talked about the school some more. I listened for anything that could possibly be helpful, but nothing seemed that important. Then we had to start the tests again, which involved cutting me.

“Ow!” I yelped as a blade cut into my arm.

“Sorry, they need to see how your regeneration works,” Babble said, moving the machine to jab into my arm again.

“It's simple, you could have just asked me,” I complained. “When injured, I increased the amount of red and white blood cells, along with coagulants to the area, and order the cells to increase their rate of division. I can heal ten times faster than a baseline. And there is almost no risk of infection.”

“You can control your cells?”

“Yes,” I answered, not thinking. “It's like controlling a computer.”

“Is that how you built up your muscles so quickly?”

“Yeah. I increased my testosterone, increased the cell production of muscles and decreased it for fat. I'd still be in the hospital if I hadn't.”

He stared at his computer for a few minutes. “I'm not sure what that would be listed as. Shape shifting, or cellular level telekinesis?”

I shrugged, hoping I hadn't give them too much information. I wasn't about to tell them about the other things I was planning to add to my body, or how I changed my brain. I needed to play a very fine line of appearing honest and helpful while keeping my secrets.

“OK,” Babble finally said. “I'm tentatively listing you as a TK-1f-0, that means you have telekinesis, only at the molecular level, and it only affects your body. The eggheads at Whateley can spend a few more days looking over it then I can. Let's see if you're psychic.”

We discovered after a frustrating two hours I wasn't psychic or a wizard. Half an hour after that we found out I wasn't a devisor or a physical gadgeteer, when I simply stared at the machines in front of me helplessly. By nine that evening I had everything done and an MID.

I looked at card with interest, I was wearing a blue bandanna with two eye holes, that covered my hair and upper face to protect my identity, and Glitch was proudly labeled at the top. My few powers were listed for all to see, Gadgeteer: 6, Esper: 1, TK-1f-0, Regenerator: 2. I really had no idea if this was helpful or not, but it was nice having myself defined.

Babble walked me downstairs to a waiting taxi, which would take me home at no charge, while promising to send all the information to Whateley. With a grateful thanks, I made my way home. The day was largely a success, even if I had to worry about some girl called Becky.

 

 

Headmistress Carson was at home trying to relax when she got a phone call from Toronto. “Hello,”

“Uh, hello, Head- um Mrs. Carson. This is Babble,” a very nervous young man said.

“Good evening Babble, I trust you're well,” she said, repressing a chuckle.

“No, well I'm OK, but the young man you sent us isn't.”

Sitting up on the couch, she got ready for the bad news. “What did you detect?”

“I'm sending you a more in depth report in a few hours, but the basics are disturbing. I didn't do a deep scan, just what he was throwing off. When I told him about the girls at Whateley, he said he had a girlfriend who he really liked. The thing is he was throwing off a lot of images of men.”

“Men, not just one man?”

“There were at least twenty different faces, but the emotions seemed to show that it was the same one. That's not the strangest thing. I mentioned I was a member of the Intelligence Cadet Corps, and what we did. He jumped at it, I couldn't tell what it was exactly that he got from it, his emotions were almost overwhelming, fear, delight, a need to learn more, and caution, great caution.”

“What could he find in that group?” Carson asked.

“I have no idea. Sorry.”

“Is there anything else?”

“Lots, most of it can wait for the report, but getting back to the girl/boyfriend there's something you should definitely know. When he was talking about the girlfriend, there was a feeling of love, need and loss. It was so strong it was like he was standing in on a stage, shouting it through the loudspeakers as loudly as possible. I've never felt anything like it before.”

Carson started to feel sick to her stomach. “Did you get any images of this person? Anything at all?”

“No, just the different faces. I'm not sure if this will help, but when he projected himself into the computer his avatar was a winged warrior woman. If it's his natural image of himself, his power or something else, I don't know. A video of it is in the report.”

“I'll probably have some questions for you after reading your report, but for now thank you, Babble. This definitely makes up for the time you tried to bug the girls showers in martial arts.”

“I-I... glad to hear it.”

Carson allowed herself to laugh, even though she didn't really feel it. “Have a good night, you've earned it.”

Hanging up, she spoke to the air. “Fubar, can I see you now?”

A few minutes later, Fubar appeared. “You have news on Glitch I presume.”

“Yes. According to Babble who did his power testing today, the boy has some problems.” She ran over the pertinent details. “I don't know if this is the same Master who taught Hekate, another pupil or someone completely different, but we have a problem.”

“Shall we contact ARC?”

Carson shook her head, regretfully. “If this is the work of Hekate's Master, Glitch could be the only real lead we have. We'll accept him, but we are going to watch him like a hawk. If he's attacked or discovers his master, I want to know everything, and be ready to fall on the person like the fist of God.”

Her friend frowned unhappily. “We are likely putting him in danger. If he was in the coma because of a failed attempt on his life, whoever did it isn't going to stop simply because he's on campus.”

“I know. So he needs the best help he can get to survive. Your going to be his counselor, you can watch him more closely then anyone else, and maybe he'll let something drop when you talk to him.”

A bottle of brandy appeared in Fubar's hand, he poured himself a drink and drank it down before replying. “I'll do my best.”

 

 

I got home, proudly showing Mom my MID, she wasn't quite so happy, giving me a hug but fighting back tears. The sadness had been building up for several days, ever since I brought up the fact that I wanted to go to Whateley to improve my education. I had to lie and tell her I'd discovered the school from talking to other mutants on the net. With the help of several emails from 'alumni' including a letter from the Vancouver Heroes Corp, I'd managed to convince her it was the right choice. The Vancouver Heroes Corp, was actually one of their fan groups that managed get the website name VHCorp.ca, which was enough to convince Mom they were the real thing, I was good at hacking but I had no desire to risk detection by going after big name heroes.

After I assured her that everything would be fine, she gave me Becky's number. The number didn't ring any bells, and the name was still a blank in my brain. For someone I didn't know, this girl was causing a lot of trouble for my socialization projects. Mom told me some stories about her, but apparently Sam kept his Mom out of his life. The stories did help bring back a few memories of a girl with black hair and a pretty round face, which connected to other memories of times Sam had spent with his friends, but most memories that directly related to her were vague, half remembered dreams. It was as if when rewiring the brain I'd hunted down every memory of her and erased them as inconsequential. Why would I have done that?

Lying in bed, still damp from a shower, I thought about how to deal with the unhappiness in Mom and with Sam's friends. If this Becky was going to be gone all summer, it didn't matter what I did, I was going to be in Whateley when school started and then I'd find Master and never come back.

However if she was coming back that could cause problems.

With Mom, I just had to make her realize this was a good move that was the best for Sam. As long as she was happy until I left that would be good enough.

Rejoining Master was my goal, but to achieve it I needed to learn how to deal with regular people. And I liked people. I wanted to be closer to them. I was made to please Master, and since he was the only person I had known and should have known, I wanted to make everyone happy as long as it didn't affect my goals. Unfortunately, while I could understand why Mom was upset, since she was going to be separated from her son, as I was separated from my Master, I couldn't understand what the problem with having two girlfriends could be. Master played with me and other programs all the time. I never had a problem with it, why would anyone else?

Maybe there was some way to make everyone happy until I left.

Mom had moved our cheap computer into my room so I could practice with my powers. Plugging myself in, I laid down and entered cyberspace. First I had to find a way to deal with people more effectively. Flying through the portals I searched for chemicals and happiness.

Wikipedia came to the rescue for me, explaining what chemicals made people happy, dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin and endorphin's. Searching the files I'd saved on several unused back up servers that I'd taken portions of for my own personal use, I found the brain scans and materials I'd used as learning material to reprogram my brain. Focusing on the glands that created those four chemicals, I used the same program that I'd created for planning my brain reprogramming programming to mark out how to reroute some of the chemicals to a focused aerosol spray from the mouth, as well as enlarging the glands safely to triple production. If I made them all happy they wouldn't complain about silly things like dating and being girlfriends or boyfriends. I'd make Mom happy to, whenever she was sad thinking about my going away.

With that done, I let curiosity get the better of me and checked out Babble. I found all I needed on a fan page for the Dominion Heroes.

The information made my heart leap into my throat, and my knees became weak.

He was a psychic, who had a trick that left his enemies confused and spouting gibberish. But that wasn't the bad part, he was listed as a highly receptive telepath able to sense emotions and even thoughts with frightening accuracy.

I raced away to a large barely used file server halfway across the world, with such pathetic security an illiterate three year old could get past it. Creating new security programs that mimicked the Monster created by D33rCr0$$, I built a fortress for myself. The information stored on the server was still open to the users, but the rest was blocked by firewalls, flytraps and more. Spy programs watched for any word from the owners that this particular server might be put offline or investigated. Sniffer programs went out to the immediate server network, watching every piece of data that came close to me.

To my eyes, a simple run down building full of books and a few simple programs was overwhelmed by an imposing castle rising out of the ground next to it. Dragons spitting fire with blood red scales, each one the size of a tank, patrolled the roads leading to my new domain. Wolf packs howled in the distance passing on the information they found. Falcons flew through the sky dropping data packets of useful information. Flames rose up from every portal leading to my particular server, turning the once weak and barely maintained device into a death trap for anyone attempting to come at me electronically. Sheer physical distance from Whateley to the far west corner of China in an unremarkable large town that people would be hard pressed to find on a map, made it unlikely that I would be found physically until I could create countermeasures.

And I huddled in fear at the center of it, a silk blanket pulled over my head, hiding in the dark, sobbing, cradled in the arms of a proxy Master, wishing he was real.

They knew.

They had to know.

What were they going to do to me?

They'd sent a monster after me before. Would they send a mutant to destroy my body? Call the police to arrest my body? Have the Dominion Heroes put me down as a dangerous villain? Post Sam's face throughout the world letting everyone know what I was? Maybe they would force Master to create a program that would kill me? That would torture him and remove me at the same time.

I developed over five thousand ways they could kill or hurt me as I sat in my fortress.

Why did they want to hurt me?

What had I done to them?

I was a good program. I hadn't hurt anyone. I'd made Master happy, and Mom, and Dad. Rachael liked me, I was almost ready to call her my girlfriend we had already kissed and she liked it. I was trying to make Sam's friends like me to. Listening to the programs calling out to me, letting me know that my digital fortress was still strong, I almost wished that they would come and end it all.

I wasn't with Master. I couldn't follow my programming. I was lying to people and turning myself into something different to find him. Everything I did seemed wrong.

Was I supposed to have things? I was a computer program, why did I need clothes? Nothing in my programming made having items important, so why did I want them? I was developing glitches and changing from the pristine creation Master had made.

Looking closely at my code, I saw the patches I'd created. Fixing the damage the security programs had caused, I looked sloppy, proof of a quick job, full of needless redundancy and awkward coding. Expanding my parameters to analyze emotions and expanding my ability to make leaps of logic from what Master wanted, to what other people wanted, left me permanently marked. Simply placing my codes and programming into a human brain had changed me. Turning me into something different.

How could Master like the monstrosity that I was now. I'd taken a beautiful picture and scribbled all over it.

I was ugly.

Kissing my not-Master, I walked out of my fortress and headed back to the abomination that I had created. I'd thrown away my one chance to save Master, they knew about me and would stop me. Without Master I was nothing. I might as well let them get me, I couldn't think of another plan. I was just a stupid program, a toy. Not real.

As Sam, I unplugged myself from the computer. Tears rolled down my face, drenching my pillow which kept my sobs muffled enough that Mom wouldn't hear me. I waited for the coming blow, fearing it because it would make my failure complete, but welcoming it since it would mean I wouldn't have to struggle anymore. I'd done so much just to get into position and I was tired. I just wanted it to end.

My internal clock told me it was almost four am. Why hadn't they come for me yet? Drawing out my suffering? Making sure there was no way I could escape?

I sat with my pillow against my chest, staring out the window until the sun rose. Still no one came. A bit of hope rose in my chest. Maybe they hadn't read my mind. There was still a chance that my plan could work. If they really suspected me, they'd have come for me, suffer not the AI to live, after all.

Mom woke up, getting ready for her waitress job. She stopped by my door but didn't come in, probably not wanting to wake me up.

She left at eight, and still no one came.

By nine I thought there might be a chance that I hadn't been caught.

At ten I began to plan again.

Psychics were the most pressing danger. I had no way to block them, so all my plans were an open book if they tried to read me. Babble must have been telling the truth and the power testing was just a routine matter, they didn't suspect me so he hadn't read my mind. I still cursed myself for not planning for that problem.

My research said one way to keep from being read was to think of something like math or business. It was difficult for most people because they couldn't multitask properly, so it was an all or nothing task to defend themselves. A few moments of thought let me know how to deal with that problem.

Concentrating on my brain, I cut a small portion of my mind away from the rest. The memories within it were of several movies I had watched with Master, involving tentacled monsters invading a girls school. I enjoyed the memories so I made sure I could easily access them with a simple code. From there I amplified the thoughts, until the synapses practically glowed, repeating the entire three hours of the movies at what I believed would be a shout to anyone trying to read my mind. Yet, because it was separated from my main consciousness, I was left free to do whatever I wanted.

I honestly had no way to know if this would work or not. But it was the only plan I could think of that seemed feasible.

It was close to noon when I finished. My head ached, and my bare chest was covered in blood. Staggering to the shower, I made a mental note not to rush brain surgery in the future.


Afternoon of July 9th, 2007

Callahan Residence

 

“Hi, uh, Becky, this is-” I started to say.

“SAM! OH MY GOD!” the girl on the other end of the line shrieked into my ear.

To keep from having to rebuild my eardrum I held the phone at arms length until the girl on the other end stopped screaming. Finally the cacophony went back to a bearable level. “Yeah, I'm OK How... are you?”

Between the sobbing I could just make out what she said. “I'm good. I'm staying with my aunt until August. Oh god I need to get home to see you! When did you wake up?”

“Well, um the funny thing is that I woke up in June.”

The tears started again. “You've been awake for a month and you didn't call me? Why not?”

I had no idea how to answer that question properly. I wanted to make her feel better, but any lie I said would be easily caught. Frowning, I went with a half truth. “A lot of my memories are really messed up from the coma. The doctors said it was a miracle I can still remember how to talk. So I remember the time we went to the Toronto Zoo for your birthday, kissing you just before Bobby almost broke his skull trying to skateboard off the old garage, and things like that, but a lot of times I just have big holes in my memory.”

“So you barely remember me,” she said softly.

I didn't remember her at all except for simple images. I only remembered the Toronto Zoo because Mom had told me about going with her, and I'd found a few dozen pictures on the computer about it. “I'm sorry. I really, really am trying to remember more, but I can't.”

The phone cut off suddenly as she wailed. Sitting down, I really didn't know if that had gone well or not. Making her cry hurt me because she was a person, and my programming said I should help people feel better. But my primary programming told me that helping Master was most important, and really everything I was doing now was just to prepare me for successfully sneaking into Whateley to free Master. So having an emotional girl I couldn't remember pawing at me, while possibly fun, was a distraction to my plan. If she broke up with me, than Bobby and my other friends wouldn't have any problems with me and everything would go smoothly. But if she stayed as my girlfriend, and I could convince her to join Rachael and I, and possibly Bobby and Frank to play some games Master taught me, than everyone would be happy and it would be lots of fun. But that seemed to be the really hard way to do things.

Should I try to please everyone like this, or cut my loses and just please one or two people? I wanted to spread the love. That's what I was made to do, to love people and make them happy. But what about me? How could I divide my time between freeing Master and helping people?

Did I even want friends?

I was going to free Master and abandon this body. Why did I need to worry about friends? I'd just be leaving them when I went back into Masters arms. I didn't want to be stuck in a boys body, watching it grow old and die. My digital body was better, prettier, always looking how I wanted it to. And once Master was free I'd never be alone again, having to wonder what to do next. When he had to leave me, I'd go to sleep just like before, and wake up happy and ready to play with Master all over again.

That settled it, I was going to make the people around me happy if they let me. But if someone complained about something silly like dating two girls or something like that, they wouldn't be my friend anymore. It would be good practice for infiltrating Whateley, and it would make me feel better. Then as soon as I freed Master, I could leave everything behind, knowing I did a good job and didn't hurt anyone, and I could devote everything to the person who truly, truly mattered in the world.

For some reason my eyes were blurry as I dialed Rachael's number.

 

 

Rachael and I sat in a fast food restaurant eating some cheap food. Neither of us had much money, which was our topic of conversation.

“Do you know where a thrift store is?” she asked, playing with her long brown bangs.

“A what?”

She blushed, and spoke in a soft voice. “A thrift store. You know a place where you can buy clothes and stuff second hand. I used to go to a big one in T-Bay all the time with my friends.”

A memory clicked into place. “Oh yeah! I know a place, I would go there sometimes. It's open late, we can check it out as soon as we're done. I would think you'd want to get newer clothes though.”

Rachael seemed to sink into her chair. “My parents don't have much money. So I can't spend much on clothes. And, well, you can, sometimes, find some good stuff there, if you, you know, look hard enough.”

I smiled trying to cheer her up. “I know, half of my clothes came from one nearby. I have, well had, it got all torn up when I fell, a really cool leather jacket from there.” Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a ten. “Let's go, I've got ten dollars with your name on it.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah. It's all yours.” A small embarrassed smile came to my lips.

She stood up leaning over the table and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.”

Finishing quickly we walked outside, enjoying the cool breeze, trying to ignore the crowd that surrounded us. My hand found hers, and I pulled her to my side, she stiffened up a little but soon relaxed letting me put my arm over her shoulder and her arm went around my waist. I let her talk about her school, her hobbies and things like that, just like I let Master talk about his projects and desires. I liked listening to her, adding in a few comments and pointing out different things that stirred up Sam's memory.

After walking for twenty minutes we came to the big thrift store. The smile on Rachael's face made me feel like I was walking on air. Holding the door for her like a gentleman should, she rushed towards the girls sections. Following more slowly, I let my eyes and hands roam over the blouses, skirts and dresses, trying to picture myself as I should look, wearing them. Boys clothes were so boring, pants and t-shirts, shorts and t-shirts, sometimes long sleeve shirt, and a couple of jackets to choose from. And once the body grew up, suits and ties. No variety, no fun.

My eyes fell on a skirt that looked a lot like one Master would have me wear. Shiny black, and short, it would hug my curves almost like it was painted on. The size seemed just about right for Rachael. Sneaking up behind her, she gave a yelp as I tickled her sides. “Hey I have the perfect thing for you.”

She took the skirt and looked at it uncertainly. “It's so short.”

“No it's not, I've seen lots of girls wear smaller skirts. You'll look beautiful, try it on. Please! For me,” I begged.

Glancing around, she finally agreed to my pleading and headed for the small change room. Two minutes later, her head peeked out to make sure no one was close by. It didn't match her runners, or the pink socks she was wearing, but I had to admire the way it clung to her butt, without the baggy blue jeans she actually had a figure. “Very nice,” I said admiring her.

Rachael's fingers wouldn't stop moving, as if she was fighting to keep herself from covering her front. “You think so?”

“Definitely. Here try this top. It will match the skirt perfectly.” I handed her a tight sleeveless top.

“A-are you really sure. It- it seems really tight.”

Taking her by the shoulders I looked her straight in the eyes and told her the truth. “You're a beautiful girl, you should show off a little more. Try it, I promise you'll love it.”

“O-ok, for you.” She took the shirt and disappeared again. Five minutes later she came out, covering her chest with her arms.

Gently taking her hands, I put her arms down at her side so I could look at her properly. I almost cried, I wanted to wear the outfit, but I couldn't, so my best friend and girlfriend had to do it for me. And she looked really pretty. “I wish I could take your picture so I could remember you looking like this forever.”

“R-really. You think I'm beautiful?” From the look in her eyes, no one had ever complimented her before. I knew not everyone was as nice as Master, but this was a surprise.

“Of course. You just need to show it off more. So can I please buy those for you? And whatever else you want, that I can afford.”

She wiped her big eyes, and nodded. Running back into the change room she was out a minute later wearing her regular jeans and t-shirt. We ransacked the place looking for clothes, gradually under my encouragement she tried on tighter and smaller outfits. After two hours of shopping, she was actively showing off for me. We left with the first outfit, a short dress, a pair of skinny jeans and an extra tight tank tops.

“Oh my god! My Dad is going to flip when he see's these,” she squeaked, after we got onto the bus headed for home.

“Why? They're just clothes, and they're a gift.” I was honestly confused by her reaction. I thought they were rather tame, but still pretty.

Her eyes bugged out. “If I bend over in half of those dresses, you'll see my underwear.”

I thought about that as the buildings went past. “You're right, we need to fix that. Lets go shopping tomorrow, at a nice place. My treat. We'll make sure that particular problem isn't a problem anymore.”

“I thought you spent all your money already.”

Giving a roguish grin I remembered from several movies, my hand patted her butt. “Don't worry about me, I have a plan.”

“I-if you say so. I didn't think boys liked shopping, how did you pick such nice things?”

Kissing her forehead, I pulled her tight against my side. “It's easy to be interested in shopping when I have such a pretty girlfriend.”

“I'm pretty?” She shook her head as if confused. “Wait! I'm your girlfriend?!”

It was my turn to be confused. “I thought you were. I don't just kiss any girl I see. I was told it was wrong.”

Rachael became so quiet, I was afraid I'd done something wrong. Then she snuggled into my arms, smiling so widely it seemed like her face would split in two. We sat in companionable silence, except for the occasional giggle she made as I tickled her sides. At her apartment, I offered to walk her upstairs.

“NO!” she shouted. “My Dad is home, he'll flip if he see's me with a boyfriend. But, he's working the afternoon shift tomorrow at the warehouse. I can meet you at one and I don't have to be home until Mom gets home at ten.”

She looked so cute rocking from side to side, holding her bag of clothes in front of her. Leaning in I kissed her on the lips, my tongue pressing against her mouth, her eyes went wide, but then she opened her mouth letting me in. It felt so good I actually lost track of time. Finally she broke it off. “I-I've go, I gotta... I've got to go. Bye.”

With a spring in my step I went home.

After a crappy start, I had to admit my day had ended really good.

Tomorrow we'd probably have sex. I wondered what it would be like doing it as a boy with a real body.


Nighttime, July 9th, 2007

The Net

 

While I waited nervously for a response to the several dozen emails I had sent an hour before, I got busy setting up a series of bank accounts around the world. The first and most important one was in Karedonia. What had started off as an idea to make Rachael and Mom happier, had expanded when I realized that some of the people holding Master, may be willing to be bought. And trying to get information on Master could require funds to pay for them as well. So I needed at least a few hundred thousand dollars as a bribe fund.

Trying to figure out the best way to transfer the money to Canada where a fourteen year old boy could use them, I made more bank accounts in the Cayman Islands, Switzerland, and twelve banks in Canada and the USA under different names. People would wonder where the money was coming from, as it was rerouted through so many different banks, but I'd only need it for a few months. They wouldn't arrest a kid before they had real evidence of wrong doing.

Checking the special email I'd made, which was based in Karedonia, I saw my first response. Dr. Dread, a high level Syndicate gadgeteer, was interested in the MIT robotics and cybernetic research. His offer was less than half what I would get if I held an auction, but I was in a rush. I sent an email agreeing to the deal, and the next hour was spent dickering over how to exchange the goods. Finally we agreed that I'd send one file, he'd send a percentage of the cash to my Karedonia account, rinse and repeat, increasing the data dump and the payout after we trusted each other.

By 5am, my empty bank account, was well into the eight digits range.

Prionator was next. His offer for all the information I'd gotten for wetware and brain research, was much fairer. We made the same deal, file for cash. Throughout the night, several more devisors and gadgeteers contacted me, they gave me a few hundred thousand or low millions for less important files. It all added up.

I then moved some of the money through my different bank accounts, until I had fifty thousand dollars in various accounts I could access easily in an emergency, in a few days the bank cards and credit cards would arrive at rented mail boxes throughout the Greater Toronto Area, providing me with even easier access in the event I had to get physical money on very short notice. My regular bank account had five thousand dollars for immediate use.

Going to a music site. I spent the last hour or two before I had to wake up dancing to some great Japanese pop music, in the skimpiest dress I could make. Once it was just me and Master again we could go to Karedonia and he'd live like a king with the money I'd made, and I could get the best programs and software money could buy.

 

July 10th, 2007

Callahan Residence

 

Bobby was knocking on the door when I 'woke' up. Mom had gone off to work, so it was just me in the house. Answering the door in a pair of boxers, I smiled happily. Memories of having fun with Bobby came to the fore, he was Sam's best friend, so I wasn't expecting the punch which nearly broke my nose and knocked me down.

“OW! What was that for?!” I shouted, as I bled all over Mom's carpet.

“How could you do that to Becky?” he yelled at me, kicking me in the stomach.

That didn't hurt too much thanks to the thick layer of muscle on my torso, it helped that I also cut the connection between those nerves and my brain by half. “I told her the truth! Did you want me to lie?”

Another kick. “Yes! She was crying all night because you're a fucking asshole!”

“If you hit me again, I'm going to get angry.”

He kicked me in the head.

I didn't like fighting. I can truthfully say I was made for love not war, but he was starting to cause some real damage, I had a date with my girlfriend coming up, and you don't beat up your friend, you just don't. I increased my heart rate and breathing, flooding my blood with oxygen. Adrenaline surged, and endorphin's flooded my brain, making me forget the pain.

As Bobby went to kick me again, I grabbed his foot in one hand, rocking slightly. My fingers probably felt like a vice through the cheap runners. Standing up, his foot came with me, a quick jerk had him on his back, his head thumped down on the hard floor painfully. I winced in sympathy, but didn't let go.

While he was momentarily stunned, I knelt down, one knee on his stomach, the other one putting just a bit of pressure on his crotch. His foot was up near his head, effectively blocking one arm, and my other hand clamped down on his free arm. From the look on his face, it was very painful.

I gave him a minute to let his head clear. “Bobby, I didn't want to do this. You're my friend, but friends don't hit friends. So can I let you up and we can talk about things like friends, or at least without trying to hurt each other?”

“Let me up, asshole! You broke Becky's heart!”

“Well I'm sorry Sam had an accident, almost died, had a freaking coma for seven months and woke up with amnesia. Next time I'll try to do better.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I winced at my wording. Fortunately Bobby was too pissed off to notice my slip.

He rocked uselessly trying to free himself. Getting bored of the fight, and wanting to see if I could salvage my nose, I put some weight onto his balls, he gasped in pain. “I can hurt you a lot more, now are you going to stop fighting?”

Bobby spent another thirty seconds cursing and swearing, so I had to put more weight on his Mr. Happy, he smartened up and went limp. Getting up and backing away quickly, I waited to see what he would do. He spent the next minute cradling himself, which let me start the repair work on my nose and bruises. Finally he sat up.

“You love Becky, don't you?” I asked.

“Ya think!” Bobby snarled. “She chose you, and then didn't even dream of anyone else while you were out of it. Then you wake up and the next thing I see is you with that new girl I'd never even seen before, who isn't half as beautiful or funny as Becky. You're a fucking asshole!”

“Fine, I'm an asshole. I don't remember Becky except for some photos, and a few hazy memories. I'm sure she's a great girl, and I'll be happy to be her friend. But I don't know the girl anymore. So instead of being pissed, why not stop being a little pussy and go sweep her off her feet?” I told him. “I'll even give you some tips on how to pick up girls, since it seems I'm a whole lot better at it than you are. First rule, don't beat up the old boyfriend unless he's actually attacking her. Girls don't like violence that much. And if you have a girlfriend that does, you need a new girlfriend.”

It looked like he was about to jump at me. I smirked and spoke to him in a cold, quiet voice. “If you punch me again, I'm throwing you down the stairs. You know I can do it.”

Getting to his feet, he looked at me with pure hatred in his eyes. I wasn't scared, I'd fought monsters that wanted to kill me, and while I was a little upset that I couldn't make him happy, he'd punched me first. I was blameless. Bobby limped out into the hallway. “Don't bother phoning any of us. You want your ugly, little bitch, she's the only thing you've got now.”

I don't remember moving, the few seconds between his words and the sound of his head slamming into the cheap plaster of the hallway was a completely blank. But as the blood dripped from his lips and nose as his dust coated eyes watered, my mouth was at his ear and someone I didn't know was speaking with my voice. “You can insult me, punch me, try to beat me. I don't care. I'll defend myself, but only enough to make you stop. But if you insult someone I care about, if you hurt them, if you look at them cross eyed, I will break every bone in your body and feed what's left to the sewer rats. If Rachael cries to me and says a boy was mean to her, I will hunt you down and feed you your balls. You do not, fuck, with my friends. Is. That. Clear?”

He sobbed in pain. The cold part of me that had taken over decided that Bobby understood. Holding him by his bloody shirt, I half dragged him to the elevator and hit the button, when the doors opened I threw him inside. My voice spoke without my control, “Remember this moment. If we do anything like this again, you're going to need an ambulance.”

Bobby sobbed and cringed, watching me with terrified eyes until the door slid shut. Shaking in rage, I noticed I'd left some bloody footprints on the floor. Getting back into my home, I carefully closed the door and then ran for the bathroom, my stomach heaving.

 

 

My discoloured nose was swollen, and I had a nasty bruise on my cheek. It didn't hurt, but I wasn't exactly a pretty sight. Still I'd promised Rachael I'd take her shopping to deal with the short dresses that showed off her underwear. Wearing my nicest clothes, I made a quick run to an ATM to pull out money for a taxi.

Rachael met me at the steps to her apartment at twelve, she looked beautiful in the skirt and shirt I'd bought her. Of course the first thing she noticed was my bruised face. “Oh Sam, what happened?”

“It's nothing, an old friend was upset with me for some reason. How are you?” I asked, giving her a kiss.

“Scared,” she said, looking around. “I snuck out, so my parents wouldn't see me wearing this stuff, lets go quick.”

Taking her hand, we hurried into a waiting taxi that I'd called earlier. “Eaton's Center, please,” I told the driver.

Her eyes went wide. “We're going there? That's like forty minutes away, how can you afford that?”

“Don't worry about it, I have the cash.”

“I had to pay for your bus ride yesterday? What did you do rob a bank?”

After the crappy morning I had had, I decided to tell the truth. “A few months ago I stole half of MIT's database, focusing on robotics, cybernetics, wetware, and quite a bit of software and electronics, along with hundreds of other cutting edge medical research from around the world. Last night I sold them to about a dozen supervillains and criminal organizations, just so I could show you a really good time. I'm now a multimillionaire and no one can pin it to me.”

She punched my arm. “If you can't give me a real answer, just tell me! I won't see you on the evening news will I?”

“Not anytime soon. Ask me again next month,” I told her seriously. “So today I have a thousand dollars to spend on us.”

“You're a drug dealer aren't you?”

Kissing her again, I looked into her eyes. “I swear, the only time I've even seen drugs was when I was in the hospital. I don't even know what street drugs would look like. Now do you want to enjoy the day, or keep questioning me? Because I've already been in one fight today and I really don't want to get into another one.”

The driver, was watching me carefully from the rear view mirror, clearly unsure about what he should do. Rachael wasn't so uncertain. “You robbed someone, that's why you're beaten up. I don't believe this!”

Sighing in disgust, I waited a minute while Rachael acted shocked and upset, then turned to the driver. “Can you stop at that bank, and wait for us. Here's a twenty for your wait.”

He took the money, and pulled to a stop. “Come on Rachael, I'll prove to you I didn't beat anyone up.” Gently grabbing her arm, we went to an ATM and I opened up the transactions. “Look, 5,000 dollars was put in at six this morning, and it was sent by a bank, not a check or anything else. Then I took out a hundred just before meeting you. Who could I possibly beat up who would have that much money? And if I did why would I put it into one bank and then send it to another?”

She seemed to wilt at the frustration in my voice. “I'm sorry. I just I really didn't expect you to have money. And your joke put me on edge.”

Embracing her, I kissed the top of her head. “It's OK It was a surprise. Now can I take you out for a nice lunch and treat you like a boyfriend should his girlfriend?”

Rachael nodded, following me silently to the taxi.

“So what would you like to eat?” I asked.

“You pick,” she almost whispered.

Taking a moment to think. “You like Chinese food, so we'll go to a nice Chinese restaurant. And then you pick, a movie or clothes shopping?”

“What movies are playing?”

“There's the new Champion movie, I heard that one's good. There's the romantic comedy License to Wed, I'd like to see that one. And the cartoon Ratatouille.” I couldn't think of any others either of us would really like, my fingers were crossed hoping she'd pick the comedy.

She eyed me suspiciously. “You really want to see a License to Wed?”

“Yeah, I love romance movies.”

Much to my relief she gave me a big smile. “Fine, let's watch that one.”

“Yes!” I shouted, jabbing my fist into the air. For some reason she seemed surprised by my reaction.

Letting Sam's memories take over, I started telling her about what downtown Toronto was like. Her parents were so busy working, and with her not knowing her way around the large city she'd never had a chance to leave Mississauga. From what she had told me her old city was a small one with less than a hundred thousand people, and not a single high rise or large mall to be had. Finally being in the heart of a city with six million people was a shock for her. The looks of mistrust and uncertainty disappeared as she looked in wonder at the crowds and buildings.

We had a great meal of sweet and sour pork, black bean sauce chicken, fried jalapenos, and some sweet, flaky, dim sum for desert. Sam had never eaten like this, and most of the food left Rachael staring in wonder as well. But we loved it all, even the spicy jalapenos.

As we headed for the theater, Rachael stopped to admire a brilliant blue dress in the window. “You like it?” I asked.

“It's beautiful.”

Taking her by the hand, “Let's get it.”

She refused to budge. “No way! It's way too expensive.”

Picking her up in my arms, we walked into the store. Not putting her down, I walked straight over to a sales lady. “Excuse me. That blue dress in the window, do you have it in her size?”

The woman looked down her nose at us, “I don't think so.”

Taking out my wallet, I held out my debit card. “Than pick the smallest one you have, and tailor it to fit her.”

She looked at the card with a sneer, as if it was dirty. “We sell clothes for adults, not children. If your mommy wants a dress, then please come back.”

Pursing my lips, I took a deep breath and left still holding a much subdued Rachael. “You remember what I said about having a thousand dollars to spend on you today?” I asked her. “Fuck it. We're breaking the bank.”

“What?!”

 

 

The next five hours were a whirlwind of shopping. Every store that had clothes for teens saw us enter pick out the coolest clothes and leave, barely stopping to rest and admire our booty before we hit the next place. I got designer jeans, expensive dress shirts, and even a fancy suit. Rachael was left in a daze from trying on more skirts, dresses, blouses, jackets, pants, shoes, purses and jewelry, then she'd seen in her life. I even managed to get her into a Victoria Secret to get some nice lingerie, she insisted on going alone however.

As we headed for supper, we passed by the store with the snotty sales woman. Walking in, loaded down with bags, wearing clothes that were worth several hundred dollars, we looked at the blue dress and waited for the saleswoman to come running over.

“Hello there, are you interested in that dress?” she asked.

“No, I don't think so,” Rachael said, looking at it critically, with her chin in her hand.

“Yeah,” I agreed, giving it my best sneer. “It's so boring, much better for our mommies. They like old, drab, things.”

Kissing each other on the lips we left with a laugh. Supper was waiting.

 

 

We got back home, and my wallet gave a sad sigh as I took out the last of my money to pay for the taxi. Since Rachael's parents weren't home, I helped her take the bags of clothes upstairs. Sitting down on the old couch with a tired groan, she looked at the items I'd bought her with disbelief.

“What am I going to tell my parents?” she asked.

What was her obsession with what her parents would think? These were gifts, gifts were good. “Just tell them your boyfriend bought them. What's the problem?”

“Who buys a teenager stuff like this?”

Thumping my chest, “I do.” That made her glow, hugging me and pressing her body into mine. Deciding this was as good a time as any, since we were in private like Mom had told me was important, I began kissing her.

She returned the kiss happily. The kissing got hotter, our tongues met, and our hands ran over our bodies. Her small hands never strayed from my arms and back, mine explored her body, making her shiver, my hand went under her shirt, touching her new bra. Our breathing became faster. Picking her up, still kissing her, my hand firmly on her butt to hold her up, we walked to her bedroom.

Placing her on her bed, I pressed my chest and crotch against her, a little maneuvering had her legs spread, her short skirt riding up revealing her black lacy underwear. A second later her top was up under her arms, revealing her body. My hands stopped rubbing against her long enough to unzip my pants and pull them down.

Rachael tensed up, a look of fear in her eyes.

“What's wrong?” I whispered, bringing my hand up to her breast.

Biting her lip, she shook her head jerkily. “N-n-nothing. K-keep going.”

Kissing her neck, my hand went to her panties, sliding under the silky fabric. She squeaked, reaching for my arm before stopping herself, my fingers kept moving, and her hand slowly went to my back. Not sure what was happening, my mouth went to breast, pushing the thin piece of cloth out of the way. I heard her heart beating a mile a minute.

Her hands stopped moving, clutching me closely. Kissing her some more, I sat up, lifting her legs and pulling the underwear off. Then I stopped.

She was as white as a ghost, biting her lip in what looked like fear with her eyes clenched.

“What's wrong?” I asked.

“I-I don't know. Y-y-yo-you've been so nice t-to me. I should, I should d-do th-is for you. I-I wo-n't st-stop you. Please, I d-don't mind.” Rachael clutched her chest, turning her head away from me.

Leaning back, I closed her legs and laid down beside her. I didn't know what was wrong with her, sex was fun, but she was afraid. Gently I pulled her towards me. “You don't want to have sex?”

“Yes I do. Really,” she insisted, but she was shaking her head as she said it. “I'm sorry! I know you want to. And, and I don't know!”

I sent a message to my body to relax so I could lay more comfortably. “Sex is supposed to be fun. You're not having fun. So we won't have sex.”

“R-really?”

Did she really think I'd force her? “Yes. I don't want to hurt you. But why don't you want to have sex?”

“I thought I'd be older. And it would be really, really special. I like you a lot, but I've only known you three days. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. If you want to take back all the clothes and stuff I understand,” she gushed.

She was so confusing. “You don't take back gifts, that's just being mean. Now stop being stupid.”

Before she could say anything else I started kissing her again. Slowly she eased up and we spent the next little while kissing and holding each other. Eventually I headed home. I wasn't sure if the day had been good or not. Who didn't like sex? Was she just strange, or was her reaction more common then I thought?

I'd have to experiment a little to find out.

At least when I left, she was happy again.

 

Comments   

0 # Sophia 2017-03-27 22:42
I'm surprised nobody has commented on this yet. I quite enjoyed your take on an AI trying to function in society. I'm not really all that good at giving feedback, so sorry if this is a mess.

From what I've read so far, I like where you're going with this. My hope is that Sam will learn to live her own life, apart from her 'Master'. Regardless of the fact that she's technically not human, the plot immediately brings to mind sexual slavery. If that was your intention, you struck the nail right on the head. I'll be looking out for the next chapter, and wondering how Sam's relationships will progress and her eventual arrival at Whateley.
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