Phantom Ch. 18

Chapter 18: John and Rachel Farber

John and Rachel Farber lived in wedded bliss for nearly twenty years. They had met at New York Equality University and each had fallen for the other at nearly first sight. Rachel was pretty but not over the top gorgeous, not one of those bleach bottle blondes who was snobbish and had airs of pretention. As for Rachel, she loved John's deep voice and his funny sense of humor, his loving and caring nature, as well as his enormous penis. They got married right after college, and were married for nearly twenty years before disaster struck.

It happened, tragically, while John and Rachel were performing the ritual of reproduction, as Mother Nature intended. He was on top of her, plowing into her rhythmically. Rachel loved the feeling of his thick organ inside of her. She had dated another man in college, named Fred Wilkinson, who was nice and had a good personality but was very shortchanged in the penis size department. After she used passive aggressive techniques to persuade him to drop her, she had wondered if she had made a mistake. He was so nice, after all. But then she met John.

As John made love to her, Rachel felt a pain in her breasts. "Ooow," she said.

John didn't realize anything was wrong, not at first.

Rachel felt the pain grow to red hot embers, focused in her areolas. She screamed with real pain. Before John could react, her nipples exploded. The force of the explosion was so strong that John was thrown from the bed.

As he got up, heavily shaken, he looked at his wife; her chest was ripped open. Rachel was dead.

********

It was Explosive Nipple Syndrome, which was becoming increasingly common in modern 24th century America. There were so many chemicals in every use that sometimes they combined to produce unpredictable results. Explosive Nipple Syndrome was one of them.

John grieved for Rachel's loss. He missed her terribly. And so he threw himself into his work and tried to soldier on. John was an economist for the World Government in the Kansas City area. It was his responsibility to go around setting prices for an enormous array of products and services. 99% of economists agreed that the so-called "market" could not set prices rationally in a socially responsible way, and that the World Government was much more suited for the task, and John was part of a small army of central planners who set prices, making him very feared and popular at the same time.

However much he enjoyed his work, it wasn't enough for him. He would often cry himself to sleep, thinking of his dearly departed Rachel.

But Rachel wasn't quite as departed as John thought. She loved and cared for John so much, so strongly, that part of her stayed behind. And so one day, about six weeks after Rachel died, she appeared to him, in the glowing form of her former self.

John was scared out of his wits, of course; he had never seen a ghost before. But gradually he became convinced that it was Rachel and that she meant him no harm. They talked for many days before Rachel confronted him with his need to find another woman in his life.

"You want me to find another woman?" said John.

"I want you to be happy," said Rachel. "And you're not happy, being alone."

"But... you're here now."

"John, I'm not really here," said Rachel. "You need a flesh and blood woman. Don't you miss sex?"

Her bluntness shocked him. John reddened.

"Whether you admit it or not, it's true. You need a woman. Every man does," said Rachel. "Unless you're into asses now, John?"

"No!" said John quickly. "No ass sex for me!" His eyes looked panicky as he quickly added, "Not that there's anything wrong with that!"

"Then let's get you set up with a woman."

********

John was secretly glad that Rachel didn't push him to set up an account with P into V, the Holonet sex exchange. Instead, she had him set up a profile on the Virtuous Lovers Network, just like all the other respectable people seeking love in their life.

Rachel helped him set up his profile. When he listed his proper age, 41, she immediately countermanded him.

"No, set it to 35!" her ghostly form instructed him.

"But that's a lie," said John.

"Everyone lies on Virtuous Lovers Network," said Rachel.

"I thought they were virtuous," said John.

"Don't be naïve," said Rachel. "Everyone is expected to lie at least five years in age. If you listed 41, they would think you were really 46."

"Really? Then why do you want me to list 35 instead of 36? 36 plus 5 equals 41, which is my proper age."

"If you list yourself as 35, people will think you're only 40!" said Rachel brightly.

Similarly, when it came time to select holophotos for his profile, Rachel had him select one taken eight years ago.

"But I looked much younger then!" John said.

"Now you're beginning to understand," said Rachel.

"But... when they finally meet me-"

"When your date finally meets you, she won't say a word, because she used ten year old holopics too."

The word of online dating stunned John.

Rachel also had him list his profession as "World Government Senior Manager." Again he protested; he was a price auditor, not a manager. But Rachel told him women were more impressed by managers. Similarly, she had him lie about his income range, doubling it from the actual amount.

"Would I really want a woman who only wants me for my money?" John asked.

"If she had the right qualities, yes," said Rachel. "Face it dear, you're not going to get a girl fresh out of college who barely had a test drive."

"Is that what you call what you and Fred did, a test drive?"

It was a good things that kalaks couldn't blush. "It's a tighter market out there now, and you need every advantage you can get. I'm only looking out for your best interests," Rachel told him.

Next they tackled the written part of the profile. John made several efforts at it, none of which impressed Rachel.

"You're not writing a resume, dear! You want to attract women! Here, let me help." And she flowed into his body, and started typing on the virtual keyboard with her hands. Rachel had been doing that more and more lately; the first time she had gone into him, it had really startled him. She had soothed him, saying in his mind, Don't worry, dear, it's just your loving wife. After all, you've been inside me countless times, what are a few times for me?

And John had no answer for that. But he knew full well that being inside Rachel was very different from her being inside him. When he was inside of her, he was also on the outside, looking into her eyes as he gave her exquisite sexual pleasure. But now, when Rachel was inside of him, he felt a tingling all over his body, and at times he lost control of his bodily movements, with Rachel taking control as she would grabbing a spoon from him at dinner.

And so John watched as his hands moved and typed, "I am a fun loving man who loves belly laughs and being with his friends." And then his hands were once again under his control.

"That's it? That's all of it? It makes me sound retarded!" John cried.

It also makes you sound non-threatening and ordinary. Women derive a certain comfort from the familiar.

********

And so it began. John sent messages to a number of women, selecting them with Rachel's guidance. Sometimes Rachel would veto some of John's selections. One time John wanted to contact a busty blonde, but Rachel stopped him.

"What is it you like about that one, dear, her big titties? All women have titties."

"No... I... I just liked what she wrote in her profile."

Rachel leaned forward to read it. "I am a fun woman who likes to laugh and go out on a night on the town with my friends." Her glowing form turned to glare at him.

"All right, she does have a nice figure," John admitted.

"There's something about her eyes I don't trust," said Rachel.

And so Rachel vetoed and curated his selections. John felt a bit uncomfortable with the whole process. His wife, who was dead (kind of), was selecting women for him to date. But he went along with it because he wanted to please her.

John sent out eight messages, thinking he would get one or two responses.

He got none.

Three days later Rachel had him send out eight more. There were no responses.

"I don't know what's wrong," said John. "I write them detailed messages, commenting on things in their profile. They just don't answer."

"It's a numbers game," Rachel decided, her face glowing brightly. "Send out a hundred."

"A hundred! I don't have time to write a hundred personalized messages."

"You won't have to. Just copy and paste 'hey there, I like your profile.'"

"That sounds so bland!"

"Welcome to dating in the 24th century, John."

And so John did what he was told, copying and pasting the same message over and over to a hundred women. At least Rachel was no longer so picky about who he chose. John felt like an automaton as he sent the same message, over and over.

But the process landed him dates with three women.

Nine women responded to the first message, winnowing down to three who finally agreed to meet him. Rachel watched John get ready for his first date.

"Are you sure you want me to do this?" he asked, looking at her ghostly reflection in the mirror.

Rachel wasn't sure at all. John was her husband, after all. The idea of him being with another woman would be painful. But she wanted him to be happy, so she nodded.

And so John went out on his date. Rachel practically cried as she stayed behind. She barely resisted the impulse to spy on his first date.

When John came home early, less than an hour later, Rachel was overjoyed, flying around the living room excitedly. "What happened, John?"

"She wasn't interested," said John bluntly. "She took one look at me and basically ignored me the entire time."

"Don't feel bad," said Rachel, who really didn't feel bad at all. "The next one will surely be better.

But John's second date was no better. He came back frustrated, reporting the same thing. "I don't understand. What's wrong with these women?"

"Maybe it's something you're saying," said Rachel.

"I'm just making small talk," said John defensively.

Rachel paused. "Maybe I could help you better if I tagged along."

"You... want to go out with me... while I date another woman?"

"It's purely clinical, John. Just to find out what's going wrong."

And so John agreed to let his dead wife accompany him on his next date.

*********

Samantha Kiwi worked in fashion, specifically at a company which accessorized household robots with handbags. She had long lashes and even longer nails.

When they met for a drink Samantha greeted him with a smile that could curdle milk and jerked her nose upwards as she appraised him. Then once they sat down she talked non-stop, about her job, her apartment, her friends, even her mother. She barely seemed to notice that John was there. It was almost as if she were trying to run the clock down on their date.

John didn't like it, and Rachel grew more and more frustrated.

Break into the conversation.

I can't.

Yes, you can.

She's not letting me get a word in edgewise.

Fine! Then I'll do it.

"Excuse me dear," said Rachel, speaking through John.

Samantha looked startled as she was interrupted in mid sentence. "Yes?"

"We've been here what, 20 minutes," she lifted John's arm to check his chrono. "And I haven't had a chance to get a word in. Don't you want to have a back and forth conversation?"

Samantha arched her eyebrows. "I thought you wanted to know more about me."

"I do, but I also want to have a conversation, not a monologue."

"How rude!" said Samantha. "George is never like this."

"George?"

"My boyfriend."

Rachel was speechless, but only for a moment. "What in the world are you doing here if you have a boyfriend?"

"Looking for something better, of course. Don't look so surprised, John. Everyone does it. It wouldn't surprise me at all if you have a little girlie tucked in somewhere."

John's jaw dropped, and as it did, Rachel flowed out of him and into Samantha, in one fluid move. Then Samantha raised her right hand and started to slap herself. With each slap she spoke.

"Bitch!" Slap! "Bitch!" Slap! "Bitch!" Slap! "Bitch!" Slap!

When Rachel released Samantha, her cheeks where red and her eyes were flaring.

"Sorry about that," said John, sweetly, as he got up to leave. "It was nice meeting you!" he said, as he fled.

********

"Those women on Virtue Dating are all spoiled bitches! Not a one deserves to lick your boots!" Rachel cried, as she flew around the apartment counterclockwise in a tizzy.

"I can't say I enjoyed the experience either," said John.

Rachel calmed down and hovered in front of him. "Don't worry, I'll find someone else for you."

"Rachel-"

But then she was gone.

********

Two days later Rachel returned.

"You're back," John said with a grin. He leaned forward and almost kissed her. Of course, he couldn't feel psychic energy as flesh, but it did tingle slightly as Rachel pressed her psychic lips against his.

"I'm back," Rachel agreed. "I've been following you on your rounds."

"You have?"

"Yes. Who was that blonde you were flirting with today at Snug Fit?"

Snug Fit was a chain of shoe stores in the Kansas City area. Shannon Weatherly was the general counsel and the liaison with the World Government, specifically with John. Shannon kept him well buttered because she knew he had the power to set the prices of all the shoes that Snug Fit sold. She charmed him, inviting him out to lunches where she smiled at him and was very, very friendly. Shannon was a blonde in her mid 30's, and, as she mentioned more than once, was happily divorced.

"You mean Shannon? Oh, that was nothing, Rachel," said John.

"Maybe it could be something. Is she single?" Rachel persisted.

"I think so."

"Is she interested in you?"

John made a face. "Well... she's very friendly to me. But she has to be, I set prices for the World-"

"Ask her out."

"What?"

"Ask her out."

"I can't ask her out on a date, that would be highly-"

"You ask her out, or I will."

"I'll do it," said John quickly.

********

And so John, feeling terribly uncomfortable, made a holocall to Shannon Weatherly the following morning.

"John!" the curly blonde woman's holoimage grinned at him. "Do what do I owe the honor of this unexpected call?"

"Hi Shannon," said John, reddening. "I, uh, just wanted you to know that I will get the revised price list to you by Monday."

"I know, John," she said, staring at him most flirtatiously. "You told me that when I saw you yesterday. Is there something else?"

Was there?

Right out of view of the pickup John saw Rachel, swirling impatiently in circles. She was going clockwise, which meant she was especially agitated.

"Yes, I, uh, wondered if you'd like to meet after work tonight."

Shannon paused for exactly five heartbeats. "John... are you asking me out on a date?"

"I... uh... well, it all depends," John stammered. "I mean if you would like to... then sure. But if you don't, then, of course, that's a no."

"Yes!" Shannon said promptly, her eyes lighting up. "Six o'clock, after work, meet me here?"

"Sure," said John.

"See you!" The connection ended.

Rachel was suddenly in his face. "That was the worst pickup line I've ever heard."

"What?"

"If you like, then sure. But if you don't, that's a no?" said Rachel. She gave a ghostly sigh. "John Farber, if you had said that to me the first time we met, I never would have kissed you, and you certainly would never ever have gotten permission to put your oversized penis into my vagina." She swirled around him and tried to calm down. "John, you have to be confident, in control, assertive."

"I'll try, Rachel. Just remember, I've been out of the dating game for 20 years. You spoiled me."

"Yes," she said, giving him a psychic kiss. "I see I have."

*********

The date was a disaster.

Somehow, John was much more nervous than he had been on his Virtue Dates. It was harder because Shannon was someone he knew, a friend, someone he would have to see again and again after today if things went horribly wrong. Which they did.

John found himself stammering about random topics, losing more and more confidence as Shannon looked increasingly restless.

Finally she couldn't stand it anymore. "Is this what you're really like, John?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's just when we have work lunches, you're much more animated, and confident, and... fun," said Shannon, making a face. She started to get up. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

"Wait!" John grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her back down. Shannon had surprise written all over her face.

"Don't do this," said John.

"Don't do what?" said Shannon, looking confused.

"Your pitiful performance doesn't leave me any choice," said John.

"My pitiful performance?" said Shannon. She started to get up again.

"Wait," John commanded. "Sit down."

Shannon stared hard at him.

"Please."

Shannon slowly sat down.

"Shannon, you know my wife died two months ago," said John.

"Yes," said Shannon. "I was sorry to hear about that."

"Thank you. But she's not entirely gone," said John.

"Not entirely gone? What do you mean, John?"

"She's inside me. She's the one talking to you right now," said John.

Shannon gave him an odd look for a very long, uncomfortable moment. Then she said, "Of course she is. I've enjoyed our date, John. Really, I have, but I just remembered I have some laundry that needs doing-"

Suddenly, a glowing form flowed out of John's body into Shannon's. She immediately went rigid.

"What's happening to me?" she whispered.

John sighed. "Shannon, meet Rachel. Rachel, Shannon."

"Pleased to meet you," said Rachel, using Shannon's voice.

Shannon blinked once. Twice. Three times. Then she said, "John, are you telling me... are you claiming the ghost of your wife is inside my body?"

"Only for a moment. Just to explain the situation," said John.

"And what exactly is the situation?" Shannon asked.

"Shannon, I know John hasn't made the greatest first impression, but it's been 20 years since he's been on a date and he's a little rusty," said Rachel, still speaking out of Shannon's mouth. "But I've spent 20 years of my life with him, and I'd like to tell you what a loving, wonderful, compassionate man he is."

And for the next five minutes, Rachel did just that. By the time she was done, John's ears were crimson and Shannon was staring at him with an unreadable expression.

"And so, Shannon, it's up to you now. You can get up and walk away, but if you do that, you'll never have the chance to be with a truly wonderful man like John. You'll never meet his likes again for the rest of your life. Not ever."

And then Shannon gasped as Rachel vacated her, and flew downwards through the floor of the bar.

Shannon looked at John for a long moment. He looked back at her with somber green eyes.

"So," said Shannon nervously, as she tapped the countertop. "What are we going to do on our second date?"

*********

The second date went much better. John was much more relaxed, and so was Shannon, after she got the answer to one key question.

"Is... is your wife still inside you?" Shannon asked.

When John assured her that no, Rachel wasn't, Shannon broke out into a smile.

********

Things flowed much more smoothly after that. Shannon and John started to socially penetrate each other; that is, to learn more and more about each others' intimacies. Shannon told John about her first marriage, divorce, and feelings about men. John told her about his love for Rachel, and how part of her seemed to survive her death.

"Is it that way with everyone, John? Does everyone become a ghost?"

"No, most people don't, at least, I don't think they do," said John.

"Then why did Rachel stay behind?"

"I think... I think she loved me so much, that she... she wanted to make sure that I was well cared for." Suddenly John realized what he had said. "Maybe well cared for is not the best choice of-"

"Hush," said Shannon, and she put her lips over his, and they enjoyed their first kiss, their first kiss brought about indirectly by the mention of Rachel's name.

After that there was more kissing, and more dates. Shannon started to wear more and more revealing clothing which showed off tops of her large Irish heritage breasts.

And then finally came the time when John invited her out to dinner again, but Shannon said, "We always do that. Why don't you come over to my place? I'd enjoy cooking for you", and even John, with all his naivete, knew what that meant.

The time had finally arrived to begin the ritual of reproduction, to cement the bonding of their relationship. Shannon, in open code, was inviting John to insert his penis inside of her sorely underused feminine body.

"It's about time!" Rachel raged, when she heard about it. "It's been six dates! She probably got tired of waiting on you!"

"Rachel, you and I were married for 20 years. It's not easy to start over with someone new."

Her ghostly expression softened. "I know. And I think that's sweet. But if you don't start giving her some penis soon, she's going to get it from somewhere else. That's just human nature, dear."

Actually, things were not quite what they seemed.

*********

After four dates, four reasonably good dates between John and Shannon, Rachel grew impatient for their relationship to blossom. She knew the laws of dating physics as well as anyone. A dating relationship was like a rocket shooting into orbit. If it didn't reach orbit by the third or fourth attempt, it would never reach escape velocity.

And so, after the fourth date, Rachel paid a visit to Shannon's apartment. Shannon nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Rachel floating in her living room.

"Hello again, Shannon."

"You... you're Rachel, right?"

"Right. We've met before," said Rachel.

"I remember," said Shannon, wide eyed. "Are you... are you planning on going inside me again?"

"No!" Rachel was instantly put on the defensive. "I just did that to prove to you that I was real and John wasn't going out of his mind! I will never go inside you again, Shannon, I promise!"

"Oh." She relaxed a bit. "Then why are you here?"

"Just to chat. Girls can do that, can't they?" Rachel sat down on the other end of the couch from Shannon.

"Girls can. Dead wives and living girlfriends, not so much."

"But we have so much in common, Shannon," said Rachel, in a persuasive tone.

Shannon found Rachel's glowing eyes to be a little unnerving. "You mean John."

"Right." Rachel paused. "When are you going to sleep with him, Shannon?"

Shannon shifted uncomfortably on her sofa. "Isn't that between me and John?"

"It's been four dates, Shannon. He invited you back to his place at the end of your last date, but you declined, remember?"

"I remember."

"Was it... because of me?" said Rachel.

"Yeah," said Shannon, crossing her arms uncomfortably.

"Well, I can arrange to be out and about somewhere," said Rachel. "Or you can bring him to your place."

"I... suppose."

"It's not just me, is it?" said Rachel. "You're having second thoughts about him, aren't you?"

"Not specifically about him," said Shannon. "It's just... I've been divorced for only two years. I don't know if I'm really ready to get into another relationship."

"Don't give me that, Shannon. I am a woman too, or at least I was," said Rachel. "You're just afraid of making a commitment. You have every woman's fear of new sex. Trust me, darling, you'll love it! He's great in bed."

"An expert opinion," Shannon smiled wryly.

"It is," said Rachel. "And besides, if you don't... he'll drop you."

Shannon sat upright. "He said that?"

"No, but I'm his wife and I can tell. Men need sex to fall in love; women need love to have sex. That's the way it's always been. So what will it be, darling? Your vagina, or the back of his head?"

********

"Rachel, how do I look?" John asked, looking in the holomirror. He had on a grey blazer and a formal blue shirt.

"You look wonderful," Rachel assured him. "Do you have testicle blockers?"

"Yes."

"Two of them, one for left and one for right?"

"Yes," said John. He held up his hands. "Look at me. I'm shaking like I'm 19 all over again, about to experience my first time... with you." He looked directly at her. "Are you sure you want me to do this?"

"Absolutely," said Rachel, in a tone that brooked no argument, and absolutely hid her deep ambivalence. "Now go out there, and come back with your shield or on it!"

John frowned. "What does that mean?"

"Before the ancient Spartans went into battle their women told their warriors to come back with their shield, which would mean they were victorious, or to come back on their shield, meaning they were carried on it because they were dead."

"A person could be carried on a shield?"

"The Spartans had really big shields."

"Oh."

"You're missing the point. The point being, go out there and have sex!"

"With another woman."

Rachel blinked slowly, and put her glowing arms around him. "Yes, John. With another woman."

********

Shannon hugged and kissed him at the front door when he arrived. She took the red roses from his hand."For me?" She cried. He nodded and she kissed him again.

He looked at her dress, a practically transparent white gown which showed her heavy globes encased in the constraining cups of her breast control collar.

Shannon was clearly signaling that she was ready to begin the ritual of reproduction.

Dinner was so tense that John felt like he could cut the air with a knife. They both knew why they were there. They both knew that within an hour, they both would be nude, engaging in the sacred ritual of reproduction for the very first time (which each other, at least). The first time with someone new was always special. It would come once, but never again.

Time seemed to crawl as Shannon first served the salad, and the entrée, and the main course. She smiled at him furtively, at first, then openly throughout the dinner.

Finally, when time came for dessert, she turned to him and said, "Fuck this. We've waited long enough. Are you ready, John?"

"I've been ready since I came through the front door."

"I can see that," she grinned, looking down. "Come, darling."

*********

Rachel was flying around clockwise furiously in the apartment when John came home at 2 AM.

"So?" she said anxiously.

"I came back with my shield, not on it," said John.

********

John's blossoming relationship with Shannon reached a stable plateau. They would go out, do things together, and then go back to her place to have sex. When Shannon had her period, she would use other means to ensure his pleasure. They were together for six months when Shannon first broached the subject of moving in together.

When John told Rachel about the idea, Rachel didn't seem overjoyed. In fact, Rachel wondered if he was taking things too fast.

The fact is, Rachel was beginning to have second thoughts about the whole plan she had helped bring into being.

********

It started with curiosity, and turned into jealousy. John would go off two or three nights a week to be with Shannon. Nearly every time he would be serviced sexually, and come home with his penis shrunk and wizened and spent. Rachel, who had been his wife for 20 years, naturally had some... curiosity about what John was experiencing.

So one time she resolved to find out.

She followed him to Shannon's apartment in stealth mode. By then John and Shannon were no longer bothering with pretenses such as making dinner to have sex; he was kissing and undressing her almost as soon as he stepped through the door, and she him.

As Rachel watched them writhing in bed, she felt compelled to act. Still in stealth mode, she quietly slid into John, who normally would feel the tingling sensation, but was occupied with other matters.

And then, for the very first time, Rachel experienced the joys of sex from her husband's perspective. She felt his intense arousal as John kissed Samantha's red lips, and fondled her heavy Irish heritage breasts; he felt his joy as he thrusted inside of her; and for the first time she experienced what a man felt when he released inside of a woman, the intense feeling of satisfaction as he spilled his seed in a woman's sacred place, marking her indelibly as his own.

By that time Rachel was crying psychic tears, and silently fled his body. She never told John what she had done, but she had second thoughts about his whole relationship with Shannon after that.

And so when the day came when John said he wanted to move in with Shannon, Rachel told him not to.

"Why?" he asked.

"Do you love her, John?" she asked.

There was a long pause. Then John said, "Yes."

"Oh, John, how could you?" said Rachel.

"How could I?" John was incredulous. "You arranged for this to happen, every step of the way. You even arranged for us to have sex, the first time."

"She told you?"

"Of course she told me! Shannon is my lover now, Rachel! We don't keep secrets from each other." John paused. "Rachel, I appreciate everything you've done for me... during your life... after your life... but this is what you've always wanted. This is why you stayed around, didn't you? To make sure I wouldn't be lonely?"

Rachel nodded.

"Well, I'm going to be with Shannon now, and I won't be lonely anymore," said John.

"But... you could be with me, John!"

"I love you, Rachel, and I always will," said John. "But Rachel... you died eight months ago. You're a ghost. However much I love you, I need... I need a living breathing woman. Don't you see that?"

Rachel thought about it, and slowly nodded. "I understand," she said softly.

As John watched, she started to fade. "Rachel, what's happening?"

"I... I think my purpose for being here is complete...." Rachel looked around wildly as she became more and more transparent. "I think I'm moving on to... something else... John, I love you!"

"Rachel I love you!"

"Don't forget me, John! Don't-" her voice abruptly cut off as she faded.

John's face was streaked with tears as the last of his wife vanished. After crying for a long while, he called up Shannon, and she immediately came over and gave him a loving round of consolation sex. After some reassuring P on V action, he felt somewhat better.

********

The Doctor was in a hotel room in Portland, Maine, checking on a lead to the Penguin. It hadn't panned out. Although he had identified 92 unique psychic DNA strands for the Penguin, there was still a lot of room for misinterpretation and false leads.

They had been travelling all day checking out leads, all of which lead to nothing. And so, after having dinner with Sophie, they had each retired to their rooms and resolved to get a fresh start in the morning. The Doctor planned to return to the Isle of Man and recalibrate his sensors to begin again.

At the moment the Doctor was lying on his back in bed, completely nude, and the Doctor was not quite sure how he and Alanna had gotten to this point.

There had been a notable progression.

First Alanna had given massages to help him sleep. Then she had startled him with a psychic kiss, the stimulation of his nerve endings to stimulate the feeling of being kissed.

Then she started giving him a kiss every night, as he went to sleep. It became... natural. Expected. The Doctor even found himself puckering his lips as she did it, which excited Alanna terribly.

And then one kiss per night suddenly became several kisses per night. And then, as the Doctor was going to sleep, Alanna started simulating the feeling of a warm body pressed against his side. The Doctor had the natural physiological reaction, which pleased her to no end.

Alanna ignored it, the first two times it happened. She didn't want to embarrass him. But then, the third time it happened, she decided they were both comfortable enough with it to draw his attention.

"Good night, Doctor," Alanna said in a sultry sounding voice in his mind. The Doctor knew what that was a cue for. She smiled inwardly and could actually see him relax as he reclined and puckered her lips.

Alanna gently stimulated his lips, to feel the sensation of being kissed. How she wished she could feel it too! In a sense she could--but only from the Doctor's perspective. She felt his excitement, his very arousal when she kissed him, and it thrilled her.

Alanna settled down into a virtual kissing session with the Doctor which was only growing longer and more heated every time. She stimulated the feeling of warmth against his chest, his legs, and even his groin.

She kissed him slowly, tenderly. The Doctor's eyes were closed. He actually gasped on the third kiss.

"Alanna," he muttered, half asleep.

She loved it when he said her name!

The Doctor's body started to respond, to her kisses, and the warmth of her touch. Alanna was in his body, she didn't have to see it. She could feel his penis getting erect.

The Doctor moaned and rubbed himself for just a moment, and Alanna saw her opening and took it.

You know I could help you with that, Doctor.

"Hm, with what?" said the Doctor opening his eyes.

You know, Doctor.

"I do?" The Doctor's eyes were without guile.

Take off your clothes, Doctor.

"What?"

Take off your clothes and I will help you.

"But...."

Are you shy, Doctor? Are you afraid I might see you naked, for the 100th time?

"Yes, well...."

Do it, Doctor. Take off your clothes, or I'll never kiss you again.

Alanna had never seen a man take off his clothes as quickly as the Doctor. In seconds he was completely nude, lying on his back, his erect penis sticking out between his legs. "Are you sure this is all right?" he asked.

Shhhhh. Let me handle everything.

Alanna started to feed the Doctor the sensation of having his penis stroked. It was all work on the nerve endings, of course. Every tingle, every feeling was stimulated from within him.

She watched him get hard as she stroked him virtually.

Do you like this, Doctor?

"Yes," he gasped immediately. "Ooooh. Oh Alanna."

He said her name again!

"It feels so good," said the Doctor, as his penis got stiffer. "It all feels so good."

I'm so glad.

"I wish I could do something for you," he said.

Alanna felt that frustration. There was no way for a flesh and blood to give a kalak who didn't have a host any physical stimulation. Two kalaks could stimulate each other; two kalaks inside two hosts could stimulate each other; but for a kalak and a person, the pleasure giving could only go in one direction.

But that wasn't what she told the Doctor. But I am getting pleasure, Doctor.

"How?" he said, with need wonderfully etched into his voice.

By watching you. By watching your penis get erect. Look, Doctor, look down at it.

The Doctor obeyed. He saw his penis, under Alanna's ghostly ministrations. With each ghostly caress it was getting more and more rigid, jerking slowly upwards to become harder, longer, stiffer.

That's the biggest compliment a man can ever pay a woman, Doctor; getting an erection by thinking about her. You are thinking about me, aren't you, Doctor?

"Oh, yes," the Doctor gasped.

Alanna continued to stimulate the head of his penis. Being inside of his body, she could feel his pleasure, almost as if it were her own.

What are you thinking, Doctor? Tell me, she said insistently, as she continued to stroke his nerve endings.

"I'm...." the Doctor gasped. To let a woman masturbate him was a tremendously intimate thing. To talk about it while it was being done to him was to mount intimacy on top of intimacy.

Which was exactly what Alanna wanted. She wanted to get closer to the Doctor, any way she could.

Go on, Doctor.

"I... I feel like I'm thrusting inside of you," said the Doctor, in an unnaturally needy voice Alanna had never heard before.

Go on, she said, quickening the pace of her stimulation. She smiled to herself as the Doctor gasped again. Am I exciting you, Doctor?

"Yes, oh yes," said the Doctor. He looked and sounded helpless. He moaned with pleasure. "I feel like I'm inside you, rubbing against the walls of... you." He felt too embarrassed to say the word vagina.

That's exactly where you are, Doctor. You're deep inside me. That's exactly where I want you to be, said Alanna, getting excited herself. The Doctor's penis was getting redder and redder. She loved the way his penis, getting closer to the edge of orgasm, was starting to vibrate and tremble of its own accord, giving the illusion of being stroked by an invisible hand.

It was time! Alanna started to increase the stimulation to the head of his organ, which was the most sensitive part-

"Ooooh. Oooooooh!" the Doctor cried, his eyes shut tight, his face a mask of pain. "Alanna... you've got to stop!"

No, Doctor, I'm not stopping for anything!

"But Alanna, I'm going to come-"

Then come, darling. Come all over me!

"Ahhhh!" the Doctor cried out, as Alanna worked his trembling organ, sending him over the edge. "Aaaaaaaaaaah!" he cried again, his eyes wide.

Sperm shot out of the tip of his turgid shaft, shooting two feet into the air before making a graceful semi-circle and landing on the bed between his legs..

"Aaaaaah," the Doctor whispered, collapsing into the pillow.

He was silent for a moment.

Did you like that, Doctor?

"Yes."

We just shared something intimate together, didn't we, Doctor?

"I think we did. "

Tell me the truth now. You didn't have sex with Sophie Astor on the ride home because of me, right?

The Doctor's eyes clenched shut.

Doctor?

"Yes," he said.

Was it because I wouldn't let you boff her in private?

"Partially," the Doctor nodded.

What else, Doctor?

The Doctor was silent.

Alanna stimulated the still sensitive head of his penis and he cried out.

"Don't do that!" he cried.

What else was it, Doctor?

"I...." The Doctor looked embarrassed. "Part of it was that I was beginning to...." His voice trailed off.

To what, Doctor?

"To develop feelings for you." The admission made him look so vulnerable, so timid.

Inside his head, Alanna cried with joy. She had given the Doctor his first orgasm with her, the first of many. And he was slowly starting to feel for her what she already felt for him.

********

[Ten minutes earlier....]

Outside the Doctor's hotel room, Sophie stood there, with tears in her eyes as she heard the Doctor cry out.

And then she felt a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and a deep voice. "Has someone been neglecting you again, baby girl?"

"Master!" said Sophie, flying into his arms.

********

"Show me how well trained you are. Show me all you've learned," Jack urged her. He was on Sophie's bed now, in her hotel room, completely nude on his back just as the Doctor was next door.

"Yes Master," Sophie said with a smile, as she hurriedly stripped off her clothing. She looked at his rigid penis, which was the object of her mounting desire. As she removed her clothes, she filled Jack in on where the Doctor had been and what he was doing.

"So he's going back to the Dome, is he?"

"Yes, Master," said Sophie, as she finished undressing and climbed up on top of him.

"Such an obedient girl," Jack murmured, as Sophie mounted him and eagerly inserted his penis into her vagina without even being told to. She smiled as Jack filled her snugly inside.

"Yes, so very obedient," Jack said again.

Sophie beamed with appreciation at his compliment, thrusting out her fine Dutch breasts. She always loved to please Master. And then she gracefully rose up on his shaft and began the cycle of pleasure and pain. As Sophie started to ride up and down, Jack fed her both... in carefully measured quantities.

"Ow!" Sophie cried, as a wave of pain caused her nipples to get hard.

"Careful!" Jack hissed. "These hotel room walls are paper thin. We wouldn't want to alert the Doctor, would we, baby girl?"

"No, Master," said Sophie. She looked so beautiful so gorgeous riding up and down on Jack the Ripper's Poltergeist penis. At 18 and a half years of age, her breasts had absolutely no sag and stood proud and firm, even without the cups of her breast control collar. Her teats were so engorged with blood that they stood out a full inch, and her areolas were large and red. The dark triangle between her legs seemed to magically make Jack's penis disappear every time she moved downwards, and her sultry smile told him that she had fully made the adjustment, and was now registering pain identically with pleasure.

"Oooooo," Sophie gasped softly, as Jack fed her another jolt of psychic pain from the tip of her penis. The pain made Sophie's nipples tingle and her clitoris buzz.

"Do you like that?" Jack asked.

"Yes, Master. It feels so good," she said, as she moved wonderfully up and down.

Sophie was such an excellent fuck toy. The Doctor must be insane to reject her. Jack knew how much she lusted for him.

"Tell me, Sophie," said Jack. "Would you like the Doctor to fuck you like this?"

"The Doctor?" Sophie considered during an upstroke. "Yes, Master!"

"I could arrange it."

"You could?" Hope played across her delicate features as she rode up and down on his raging hardon.

"Yes," said Jack.

Sophie's smile grew broader as she continued to bounce up and down. "Would he give me pain like you do, Master?"

"Not exactly," said Jack. "You would be the one to give him the pain, and his pain would become your pleasure. Watch and learn."

He waved his hand, and suddenly an image of the Doctor appeared. He was completely nude on his back in bed. His penis was shamefully erect, and he was groaning.

"What's happening, Master?"

"That whore Alanna is pleasuring him. Does that please you?"

Sophie couldn't take her eyes off the Doctor's erection, even as she continued to ride Jack's penis like a hobby horse. "No, Master!" She blushed. Sophie had never seen the Doctor's penis, much less erect! It looked so thick and red. She very much wanted it inside of her, pleasuring her... as well as giving her pain.

Jack chuckled. "Then we will deal with her."

"Deal with her, Master?"

"Get rid of her. By this time tomorrow you will have the Doctor to yourself."

"How, Master?"

"Never mind how," said Jack. "Do you want him?"

Sophie looked at the Doctor, writhing in sexual agony with his penis redder than ever. "Yes."

"Then you shall have him. I will arrange it. You will give him pain, and his pain will give you pleasure."

"Will the Doctor approve of this, Master?" Sophie's eyes were moving back and forth, considering the possibilities.

"He will, with your help," said Jack. "Look at his face, Sophie, just look at it! Look how twisted up it is! Imagine that wasn't an expression of pleasure. Imagine if that were pain he was feeling, pain you were giving him."

Sophie looked at the Doctor's twisted up expression, at his tightly closed eyes. She felt a swelling in her vagina, in her clitoris. A painful buildup, a tension requiring release.

"Imagine if it were you giving him pain," Jack repeated.

"Yes," said Sophie repeated. "I would be giving him the pain," she whispered. Sophie felt her orgasm was just in sight. She looked at the Doctor's rock hard penis, and imagined inside her. She looked at his face, and imagined it was twisted from the pain and pleasure she was giving him.

"You would take him to higher and higher levels of pain," said Jack, flooding her body with sexual pleasure.

"Yes, yes," Sophie whispered, riding up and down on his shaft like mad.

"You take him to the edge... to the very edge-"

"Yes!" Sophie cried out, and her body stiffened. Her orgasm was imminent!

"Right as you kill the Doctor!"

"Aaaaaaah!" Sophie gasped, her eyes pointed to the ceiling. It was too late to react to the words. Sophie felt the most incredible orgasm flood her body from head to toe. She collapsed, sobbing softly, on top of Jack, still richly impaled.