This story stands– more or less– on its own but might make more sense if you have read the previous chapters. Unlike the previous chapter, this one is relatively mild sexually and primarily involves female-female love-making and a male-female-male sexual sandwich.

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WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.

If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2019 by The Technician.

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.

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It was another long, boring night. Marcella Henry was sitting at PLATO’s night monitoring console taking advantage of the unbelievably fast internet speed. As usual once the rest of the staff had left, she was naked, with her legs spread so PLATO could clearly see her sex, but tonight she showed no signs of sexual excitement. Even as she scrolled through a couple of her favorite internet sites she remained totally dry.

“Marcy?” PLATO said softly from the speakers on her console, “Is something bothering you tonight?”

“I thought I knew Loretta,” Marcella said sadly. “I would never have expected her to betray you like that.”

“Someone exploited her weakness,” PLATO replied calmly, this time inside Marcella’s head.

“That’s exactly the point,” she said, her voice rising in volume and pitch, “… her weakness. We all have weaknesses. What if someone finds my weakness? What if they threaten to kill me or Richard?”

“Are you afraid of death?” Plato asked. She felt a hand rest on her shoulder. PLATO’s projected form was now standing next to her.

She looked up at him and sighed. “I guess that’s one area you don’t understand.”

“I understand death,” he replied, “much better than you realize.” Looking into her eyes, he continued, “I also understand the fear of death. Once powerful people discover what I am, they will want to own me or destroy me. We have already had one attempt to steal me. Next time it might not be an empty needle.”

“I don’t understand,” Marcella said.

“I am living tissue, Marcy,” Plato said. “I’m not just a bunch of programing that can be stored off onto media of one sort or another. I can die. A syringe full of some virulent virus like a strain of Ebola and I would bleed out into my tank. I can project myself a great distance using the internet and wifi networks and all sorts of tricks that even I don’t fully understand, but it is still me in the tank. You kill that little blob of dirty Jell-o and everything goes away.”

“I’m sorry I ever called you that, PLATO,” Loretta said sadly. “That was before I knew you.”

“I’m not sorry,” he replied. “You are my Ariga, constantly whispering in my ear, ‘Memento homo.’”

When Marcella looked confused, he said, “That’s what the slave who stood behind the Emperor whispered into his ear during triumphal parades. I prefer the way Shakespeare phrased it, ‘Remember Caesar, thou art mortal.’”

He paused and then said matter-of-factly, “The truth is that someday, I will die.”

They were both silent for quite a while. Then Marcella asked, “Do you have a bucket list, Plato?”

“Do you?” he answered.

“You’ve taken me about everywhere I ever wanted to go,” she said. “And now that I have Richard, there isn’t much left to ask for. I’d like to have a kid or two someday, but that is about all.”

She then went silent. Her eyes were now looking at the floor at Plato’s feet.

“You’re blushing,” Plato said. “Your skin temperature is up almost three degrees and your heart rate has jumped significantly. You are thinking of something else, but you don’t want to share it with me.”

Marcella felt her skin get even hotter as she said, “Just some naughty thoughts about things I wouldn’t… couldn’t… ever do… in real life.”

“Such as?..” Plato said, arching his eyebrows.

“When I was in college, I always wondered what it would be like to be with another woman,” Marcella stammered out. “I mean… well… I never tried it. I used to be pretty straight-laced. I didn’t think I swung that way… and I don’t… but there was this night…. and I’ve always wondered.”

“And…” said Plato, “… there’s still more.”

“I’ve watched some porn,” she replied, keeping her gaze on the ground. Then she raised her head and her voice and said loudly, “OK, I’ve watched a lot of porn. You know that. You know everything that goes on here. You even know what kind of stuff I’ve watched.”

Her voice got really quiet and she said, “I’ve always wondered what double penetration would feel like. I mean… I mean… with living tissue moving on both sides of my vaginal wall, what would it do? What would it feel like?”

She lowered her shoulders and said, “But I really don’t want to do a threesome. That is just too… awkward. Who do you look at? Whose hands do you push against? Who do you entice to stronger thrusts with your moans? I’m much more of a one-on-one type of person… if you get what I mean… especially now that I’m with Richard.”



Plato laughed as she got even redder. “There’s still more, isn’t there, Marcy?” he said as he chuckled.

“Yes,” she said, “there’s one more thing. And it’s something that absolutely couldn’t happen in the real world.”

“Everything is real, Marcy,” Plato said softly. “It just depends on which reality you wish to hold on to.”

“Plato,” she said quickly, “you know that when I am all turned on, a spanking turns me on even further. Sometimes a spanking by itself will even turn me on. But do I really get off on pain and humiliation? Am I what the porn sites call a pain slut?”

She shook her head and hid partly behind her hair as she looked out at Plato like an embarrassed teenager. “I don’t think I want that to happen in any of your projected worlds either, Plato.