MPC 13: David Investigates Porn

One of the habits David hadn't given up from his pre-Master PC life was watching porn. He didn't watch as much of it, that was true, but he still watched some and kept up with what was going on in the world of "adult entertainment." He started an adult video review blog, opened a Twitter account, and started frequenting discussion forums on a number of adult video oriented websites. He learned a lot about the adult industry and got to know (if that word can be applied to internet acquaintances) a few people in the business including several producer/directors whom he regarded as friends. His new knowledge changed the way he watched porn and it had an impact on his tastes as well.

And that's how he began to suspect that someone else had obtained a copy of the techno-magic disc known to mind control fantasy writers everywhere as the Master PC. He started noticing more and more porn stars with unusually well developed genitalia – huge (even by porn standards) cocks, enormous clits, women with gigantic natural breasts, and women who just seemed like such sexual robots that they couldn't possibly be real. There are a good number of women in porn with huge sexual appetites – women who really get off on having sex in front of the camera – and a smaller number of men who are great performers. But David started seeing people whose appetites went well beyond anything he'd seen. It was like someone had combined the ten craziest women in porn into one person and set them loose on a video production set with a Barbie Doll physique. It was unnatural – even more so than porn's normal unnaturalness.

But what sealed the deal as far as David was concerned was the first time he saw a living, breathing, Futanari on his monitor. Outside of Hentai or Manga videos, or comic strips like "Innocent Dickgirls" the last hermaphrodite images he'd seen were in a video made by Paul Norman back in the 90's, and that had involved rubber cement and a prosthesis.

David had seen some chatter about these videos on an adult video discussion board. He made a few enquiries and eventually tracked down a copy of a video titled simply "The Fourth Sex," from Polymorph Video, Inc.

David loaded the DVD into his machine and sat back to watch. A series of images flashed across the screen accompanied by thumping techno music and a voice over.

"Women love their DICKS! Men love their PUSSIES! They're DICK GIRLS!"

The images were of creatures that occupied both sides of the gender gap. They appeared human. They were undoubtedly some of the most beautiful individuals David had ever seen. Stunning bodies with long legs, big tits, ghetto booty, and TWO sets of genitals, or one really messed up set. These things had huge cocks, no balls, and two nether openings. One appeared to be a pussy, because it had full, plump, labial lips. It was located just behind the base of the giant penis, where a man's balls would be attached. The other opening was obviously an anus. David estimated that the cocks on these creatures had to be at least a foot long; possibly longer. Not only that, but they were thick. And, these creatures were flexible – they were often shown sucking their own cocks, or sliding those cocks between their giant tits.

Images of these creatures fucking, sucking, and being fucked flashed across the screen. They ejaculated prodigiously and often, hosing their partners with long strings of gooey stuff. And the strangest thing about this spooge (as if the volume and frequency wasn't already strange enough) was that their partners acted as if it were ambrosia or, more accurately, like Jem'hadar craving ketracel white. These Futanari were shown with women, with other dick girls, and in one case, with a teenage boy (presumably at least 18 years old). David's cock was an iron bar in his trousers as he sat staring at the spectacle on the screen.

One he could have passed off as some sort of genetic mutation or extremely clever fake. But this video featured a host of them. These were not fakes – he was convinced of that. He'd watched those big dicks go from flaccid to impossibly erect. One explanation and this was the one David was most concerned about, was that someone else had gotten a hold of the Master PC program and was using it to create or breed a race of übersexual freaks. Either that or someone had figured out how to mutate Homo sapiens. Either way, further investigation was required.

"Julia," David said into the intercom, "would you come in here for a minute?"

Moments later his number one assistant, right arm, head cheerleader, gal pal, and friend with benefits, sashayed into David's office with, as usual, a sly smile creeping across her features and a gleam in her eye.

"You rang, boss?"

"Sit down a sec. I want to show you something."

"I've already seen everything you've got boss," she giggled.

"This isn't about me, you harlot," David chuckled. Then in a more serious tone he asked, "Ever see anything like this?"

He pointed at the screen and pressed a button on the video remote. The Dick Girl images reappeared in all their glory. Julia watched with the complete concentration that made her such a valuable asset to the company. At first she looked puzzled. Then she frowned. Then she leaned forward for a closer look.

"How did they do that?" Julia asked.

"Damned if I know," David replied.

"Ever see anything like it?" David asked.

"Nothing like that exists," Julia said in a voice that seemed to contradict her statement.

"Think it's fake?" David asked, pointing at the screen.

"Well, isn't it?"

"No, I don't think so."

"How?"

"I don't know, but I want to find out. Something's happening here. What it is ain't exactly clear."

"What?"

"Buffalo Springfield, 1967."

"What?

"Sometimes, Julia, I forget our age difference."

"Oh."

"Nevermind. So, other than the freakish nature of the participants, what did you think of the video?"

"Fuckin' A, boss. That's some hot shit," Julia said. She could curse like a sailor when she was aroused, and clearly she was aroused. She didn't even realize that she had put her hand up her skirt.

"Would you do a hermaphrodite?"

"Boss, you know me – I'd fuck a snake. But, wow, whatever these things are, I'd do one in a heartbeat. Look at them. They're beautiful. And those cocks. My god...they'd split me in two, but what a way to go."

"If you want to rub one out, go ahead," David said, pointedly looking at Julia's crotch, currently occupied by three fingers of her right hand.

"Oh! Shit! I didn't even realize. Wow...that must have affected me more than I thought."

David chuckled. "Well if you're going to jerk off, you might as well do it with a mouthful of cock," he said, unzipping his slacks and pulling out his erection.

"Mmmmm...I'll get right on it, boss," Julia said, slipping to her knees and hiking her skirt up to her waist. She gobbled David's cock and rubbed her fingers between her legs. She never wore panties to the office, so she had easy access to the goodies.

As her excitement increased she began to moan around the stiff pole invading her gullet. She loved sucking cock and could get off just doing it. Her fingers were giving added stimulation and she was rapidly nearing the point of no return. David let himself go easy, giving Julia a full load of his spunk as she was going over the edge into the orgasmic abyss.

A few moments later and with a final smack of her lips, Julia got up from her knees, David put his cock back in his pants, and life at the office resumed its normal course.

"So, what are you going to do to investigate these beautiful things," Julia said, looking wistfully at the screen, which David had frozen on the image of a tall, shapely, for-all-intents-and-purposes female form with the exception of the fact that between its legs hung a prodigious penis currently frozen in the act of spraying an impossibly thick load.

"First, I have to find them, which, on the surface, shouldn't be all that difficult given the Federal regulations relating to porn production in the U.S. There's an address at the beginning of the video. I'll start there."

"And then what?"

"I'll find out who's behind it."

"Why do you care?"

"You know me, Julia, I'm a curious guy."

"Yes, I do know you, David, and that's why I'm not buying 'I'm a curious guy'." Her fingers supplying the air quotation marks as she said this.

"It's the best answer you're going to get today," David said. He got a raised eye brow in response. He was not, of course, going to tell Julia the whole truth. The secret of the Master PC was not something he was prepared to share with Julia or anyone else.

"You're the boss."

"All righty then ... back to work," David said terminating the discussion.

Julia left David's office with a slight frown on her face. It wasn't often that her boss failed to share what was on his mind with her. But she knew better than to pursue it further, at least for the moment.

David, on the other hand, sat in his chair, lost in thought; the Futanari image on the big screen HDTV frozen in mid ejaculation. He knew he had to do something, starting with being very careful. Whoever was behind this wouldn't want anyone to find out what was really happening. He was a little surprised that anyone would make something like this so public. It was bound to invite curiosity. The denizens of the adult video discussion boards seemed to have come to a consensus that the Futanari were fakes – good fakes but fakes none the less – they apparently accepted Kin-Kin-Tha's First Law of Metaphysics: "Nothing unreal exists." The Futanari could not be real and therefore they did not exist. That was fine with David. The fewer questions the better, unless he was the one asking.

David wanted to know the truth. If someone else really DID have the Master PC program, he wanted to know about it. If someone was deliberately creating genetically altered human beings, he wanted to know that as well, and, put a stop to it. But David DID have to admit that if the opportunity arose to actually have sex with one of these beautiful creatures it would be a pretty big temptation -- a Futanari would be a true bisexual male's dream date.

He wrote down the record keeping address (in Los Angeles) from the back of the DVD box cover and had Julia book him a flight, a hotel, and a driver – David did NOT want to drive in L.A., and who could blame him? The place is a nightmare.

It was early afternoon, hot, and sunny when David's flight landed at LAX. This was, after all, Southern California – hot and sunny is what they sell. It keeps all those tanned and toned California Girls at the beach for everyone to look at. He preferred using car services when he travelled and he didn't mind paying for the luxury. When he arrived at the baggage pickup there was a man in a black suit with a sign that said "Donaldson."

Ninety minutes later, thanks to the near impossibility of getting anywhere in L.A. by automobile, David was in his hotel room unpacking. The last thing he unpacked was his laptop. Once it was up and running he checked his various e-mail accounts, blogs, websites, Twitter, Facebook, and the local weather.

He sent an e-mail to someone he actually knew in the porn industry, letting her know that he was in L.A., his phone number and where he was staying. She had once told him that she'd like to have dinner with him if he ever got anywhere near Porn Valley. He was a great admirer of her work. She appreciated his witty remarks, his ironic world view, and positive reviews of her movies.

Within minutes of his hitting "send" his phone rang.

"David Donaldson."

"David? Is this really you?"

A half dozen smart ass remarks went through David's mind and were immediately rejected.

"Sydni?"

"Oh my god! It IS you."

"Last time I checked."

"This is wonderful. Do you have dinner plans? I'm just finishing a shoot and I know I'll be famished when it's through. Let me come pick you up and we'll go have dinner somewhere and talk."

"I'd love that. What time?"

"Seven too late?"

"No, not at all. I'll text you a picture of myself so you'll know who's standing at the curb waiting for you," David said, laughing. "I already know what you look like."

"Cool! See you at 7!"

The call ended and David did, indeed, snap a photo of himself with his phone and sent it to his dinner date. Then he called his car service and told them he wanted a pick up at 10 in the morning and that he planned to keep the car and driver for the day.

He looked at his watch, saw that it was just past 4:00 p.m. local time. He decided to take a nap and then shower before dinner. He set his alarm for five, stripped naked, and lay on the bed. He was almost instantly asleep.

At 6:59 p.m., David was standing in front of the hotel freshly showered, freshly shaved, and freshly dressed. At about five after 7 a Buick Enclave rolled into the hotel driveway and stopped in front of him. It had hardly come to a full stop when the driver's side door opened and a woman jumped out.

"David!" She practically screamed as she threw her arms around him and gave him a big kiss. "I've wanted to do that ever since I saw your avatar on Twitter – you know what a lip fetish I have."

"Well, hello to you too, Sydni," David said, grinning like some love struck high school boy. "I can't believe I'm finally meeting you." He hugged her again. She ushered him into her car and they sped off to dinner.

It was a pleasant dinner with great conversation and it did not lead to a steamy sexual romp, if that's where you thought this was headed. David learned a lot about his friend and she learned a few things too. Toward the end of the dinner, as they were sipping coffee, David broached the subject of Futanari.

"Sydni, I need to ask you about some industry stuff."

The expression on Sydni's face froze, her smile replaced by a look of absolute betrayal. He'd broached a forbidden subject.

"You're not going to ask me to get you into porn, are you?"

"No," David laughed, "I know better than to ask that."

Sydni relaxed and laughed with him. "OK, what is it then?"

"What do you know about Polymorph Video, Inc.?"

"Not much. They're a relative newcomer out here but they've been growing really fast."

"What about the people who appear in their stuff? Ever work with any of them?"

"No. They're all under contract, apparently, and they only work for that company. Frankly, I'd never even heard of any of them before they showed up on video."

"Where do you think they came from?"

"Eastern Europe would be my guess, but I really don't know."

"What about the so-called 'dick-girls' or Futanari?"

"Yeah, aren't they weird? There's a big debate in the industry about whether they're real or not."

"I think they're real, Sydni, and that's why I'm here. I can only think of two ways they could be real: 1 - someone has figured out the most brilliant reconstructive surgery scheme in history or, 2 – we're looking at some sort of genetically engineered hybrid human being. The first option is just bizarre, but the second is downright frightening and I want to get to the bottom of it."

"Playing detective?"

"Sort of. I can't tell you why, but I have a real interest in option two, if it's what I think it is. Can you point me to someone else in the industry that could get me an introduction?"

"I can't think of anyone off hand, but let me make a few phone calls and get back to you."

"You still have my cell number, right?"

"Absolutely."

"Oh, and one more thing – be careful. If this is what I suspect, they won't want anyone asking questions, so make your phone calls really discreet."

"What's going on – what do you know that's got you so spooked about this? I mean, they can't be real, can they? Good grief – human beings with two working sets of genitals? Really?"

David sighed. He considered, for just a moment, letting Sydni in on the secret.

"I could tell you, but I'd have to kill you," David said, smiling, trying to make a joke of it by doing a really bad Sean Connery impression.

"Ha ha. Seriously...what do you know?"

"I know this isn't right. It's not natural. And, it's not fake. These creatures are real. I want to find out what's behind this. You're just going to have to take my word for it that I know what this is, or I believe I do. I just can't say more. Not now, maybe not ever."

Sydni looked at David for a moment, started to speak several times, stopped, looked at him some more. "I think you're crazy. But, I'll see what I can do to get you hooked up with Polymorph. Don't hold your breath though – it's a pretty well insulated outfit. I'm not sure I can do what you want me to."

"Well, just give it a shot. Now, let's talk about something more pleasant. How's your next movie coming along?"

The next morning, David's phone rang.

"David Donaldson"

"Sydni asked me to call you about Polymorph."

"Yes?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything would be more than I know right now. What can you tell me?"

"Company showed up out of nowhere two years ago and started producing a ton of videos right off the bat. No one knows where they came from – they just showed up just like that."

"Full blown from the brow of Zeus," David muttered to himself.

"What?"

"Nevermind. Didn't they hire local production crews?"

"Nope. Had all their own people."

"Who's the head guy?"

"It's a woman. Rikko Gresserhof. Supposedly from Switzerland, but she looks Japanese. She accepted the award Polymorph won at last year's AVN's, anyway."

"They have a studio? Place they conduct business?"

"They keep their legal records at a place out on Cahuenga, but that's all I know. Oh, and one other thing."

"What's that?"

"They shoot their regular videos, you know, the boy-girl and girl-girl stuff, in rented mansions in and around Porn Valley, just like everybody else. But the weird shit, that 'dick girl' stuff, they don't. Nobody knows where that gets shot and everyone wants to because it's the hottest stuff to hit the biz since anal and Brazilian waxes."

"Thanks. That's helpful. Who did you say you were?"

"I didn't. Let's keep it that way."

"Scared?"

"This is a creepy outfit. No one gets in. Ultra hush hush. Creepy. I'm staying clear. The last guy who thought about looking into Polymorph disappeared about two months ago and hasn't been seen since."

"No problem. Just wanted to know who to thank."

"Thank Sydni. She convinced me to call you. Be careful pal – these people play for keeps."

"Will do."

The connection went dead. David looked at his phone for a moment. He already had the Cahuenga address from the DVD's. He picked up his phone again and punched in the number for his driver.

"This is Mr. Donaldson. You close by? Good. I'll be downstairs in five minutes."

 

Rikko Gresserhof looked at herself in the mirror. She'd just stepped out of the shower. Her bathroom was walled with mirrors. She looked back at herself from every angle. She was pleased. No one would know that she was almost fifty years old. She had the body of an Amazon Goddess. Slim, petite, graceful, and delicate; classically Japanese; all of those words would apply to the old Rikko Gresserhof. Brilliant, cunning, street wise and ruthless would be appropriate to the new and improved version, along with "shredded" and "hung." Rikko Gresserhof was hung like a Erik Everhard. As she absently stroked her massive endowment she let her mind wander back to the time before her transformation; before her real life had begun.

She had come from nothing. She had been the submissive wife of a Swiss banker. It was an arranged marriage which meant that her family had more or less sold her to Hans Gresserhof. She had a college degree in economics and computer science from a prestigious American university but she had been forced into a life of servitude to a fat old man with a lot of money, a lot of power, and a really small penis because her father had become deeply indebted to Herr Gresserhof by making some rather stupid investments. So Rikko had been yanked from her American friends and a budding career to adopt the form and substance of the stereotypical Japanese wife subservient to her husband in all ways.
Then she had found the magic. They were visiting London. Hans had some meetings and she had a few hours of free time – something so rare that she cherished every moment. She'd gone to a library – The Barbican – and spent a wonderful hour exploring. And there it was. On a shelf. In a jewel case. One CDROM disc that changed everything in her life, forever. Just laying there. No library markings on it, no UPC code, no writing except in Sharpie on the disc itself "MASTER PC" in block script.

Rikko had an appreciation for amateur erotica and she, like many, had read those JRPARZ stories back in the 90's, Blackie's "The Book" series, and other erotic stories of techno magic. So she laughed to herself quietly (it was after all a library), looked around for watchers, checked to see if there were any cameras nearby, and reasonably certain she was unseen, slipped the disc into her hand bag.

She left the library, hailed a cab, and immediately returned to her room. Her laptop was up and running in moments and she quickly confirmed what she hadn't dared to believe. She had stumbled across the most powerful tool in all of cyberspace or anywhere else for that matter. This was something even Gibson couldn't have imagined.

Hans never knew what hit him. By the time he returned to the hotel he was a different man from the one that had left in the morning. As soon as he entered the room he fell to his knees and touched the carpet with his forehead.

"What does my mistress command," he intoned in a submissive voice.

And that, as they say, was that.

Within six months Hans Gresserhof was dead. He missed a turn on a mountain road at a high rate of speed while driving drunk. His CL S550 went through a guard rail, dropped a thousand feet, and, following narrative convention, exploded on impact. Hans was dead before the car ever hit bottom – his heart gave out before gravity and flames claimed him. Rikko greeted the news of his tragic fiery demise with Japanese stoicism and a single tear (for the benefit of the Swiss police officers who had given her the unhappy news). She was rich, she was free and she had plans.

The first thing she did was leave Switzerland, after a series of lengthy meetings with her late husband's lawyers and bankers. She'd had to "modify" a few of them to get the accommodations she sought but in the end she prevailed and she now had the means to put her newfound good fortune to work. She was in the U.S. within 30 days of her late, and not lamented, husband's funeral.

With money to burn and the leisure in which to burn it she returned to the carefree days of her college years looking up old girlfriends and boyfriends for weekend romps in the Hamptons, or Aspen, or Malibu, or any one of a dozen different cities and regions. It was sort of like a sex tour of the United States. She even fucked porn stars – money can buy just about anything in the Estados Unidos. She invested a little in a couple of porn companies, remaining well out of the light – the companies themselves didn't know it was her money financing their projects. After a while she got bored with the whole porn thing, which she found to be mostly badly done and often too fake for her taste. But then she found the Futanari.

She visited a graphic website called "innocent dick girls" and she was instantly changed forever in ways as profound any Master PC changes she had experienced. She knew what was to be her life's calling and the path she would follow from that point on. She smiled as she looked into the mirror at her perfect body with its perfect cock and perfect pussy. She was remembering "the" day. Oh she had been nervous as she sat in front of her computer in the privacy of her palatial New York apartment overlooking Central Park. She was about to do something so radical that she could barely fathom it. But she believed that it was the next step in human evolution, sexually speaking, and that spurred her to begin the process with herself.

Her fingers flew across the keyboard as the image of Rikko Gresserhof slowly rotated on the screen, its glow supplying the only illumination in the darkened room illuminating her face in a horror film sort of way.

Change after change was programmed into the machine -- very few of them immediate, but all to be completed within 24 hours while she slept. She smiled at the thought of being a caterpillar about to embark on the journey to fully fledged butterfly. When she woke up 24 hours later she'd know if what she had attempted had worked or not.

And work? Did it ever. She remembered stumbling from bed naked and shivering to the bathroom to empty her bladder. She caught her reflection in the mirror just as she was about to sit down on the commode. She screamed. Then she laughed. Then she flipped up the lid on the toilet and stood giggling like a school girl; both hands gripping the huge, and so far flaccid, penis dangling between her perfectly sculpted legs. Still smiling she relaxed the appropriate inner muscles and released a torrent of warm yellow urine. No orgasm had ever felt this good. No wonder men groaned when they peed.

Shaking the last drops of piss from her prodigious manhood (?) personhood (?) COCK, she gently stroked it, fascinated by her accomplishment. It swelled in her hands and stiffened to throbbing erectness. The pleasure was intense. Up and down the fat shaft her hands stroked and teased the giant gristle truncheon. She moaned. She gasped. She came. Peter North in his prime didn't blow wads like she did. Rodney Moore never covered a porn starlet's face with load like this. It hit the mirror above the sink and splattered everywhere. And it kept on splattering. It was like a fire hose. Lights flickered on and off behind her eyes. Her whole body was locked in a rigor mortis- like paralysis except for her cock and its associated plumbing which continued to fire volley after volley of thick yellowish-white goo onto the mirror, the sink, the counter, and finally the marble floor.

She woke up some time later, lying in a puddle of the thick substance, thirsty, lightheaded and post-orgasmically lethargic. She smiled as she cleaned the mess. Then she made a closer inspection using several mirrors. She did indeed have a working cock and her fingers informed her that there was nothing wrong with her vagina either. It was more sensitive to her penetrating fingers than she remembered and wetter too. Probing for her G-spot caused her cock to spring to full erection and begin dribbling seminal fluid. As she brought on a vaginal orgasm her cock once again spewed its frothy produce although not with the same force or volume as before.

The rest of the day, indeed the rest of the week, was spent exploring her newly remodeled plumbing. She employed the services of a number of outcall women, men, and transsexuals (often two or more at once) each of whom suddenly found themselves a great deal wealthier, possessed of a burning desire to be somewhere a long way away, and a memory gap about which they weren't the least bit curious.

Rikko knew this wasn't a long term solution to her newly discovered needs. No matter – Master PC would provide. What she had done for herself she could do for others. Have you ever wished for both a cock and a pussy? A lot of people have, both men and women. She would find these people and make their wildest dreams come true. More importantly these people would do anything for Rikko Gresserhof, their savior and creator. They would serve her to the death if necessary. Master PC would see to that, but it wasn't really necessary. For those she had changed the alterations had been more than welcome. In many cases the individuals involved felt like they'd been released from a hellish prison and they were now free to be who they had always believed they really were. So, she rationalized (when she bothered to think of these issues at all) she was doing what her late husband's Catholic Priests would have called a "corporal work of mercy." She also saved them hundreds of thousands of dollars in medical bills.

So there was no problem at all in getting her new disciples to appear in porn videos for her new company, Polymorph. And, she thought, why not make some other perfect porn people while she was at it? She didn't release any Futanari videos right away. She wanted to make a name for her company in straight and girl-girl porn first, which she did. She looked at the work that was out there and borrowed the best of what she found, in terms of structure, picture composition, sound, etc., and she added the living breathing equivalent of Barbie Dolls whose libidos caused them to cum on camera spontaneously and often and almost on cue. And their reactions were real – something that came across (no pun intended) to the viewers as a welcome contrast to the "show up and moan" variety of "acting" found in 80 per cent of porn. She took the porn world by storm, unofficially, although given the establishment bias of the porn awards community her recognition was purely financial – her videos outsold the competition and that was the only recognition she needed. Awards would come later.

And then she'd unleashed her Futanari videos on the porn world. Oh how she laughed at the speculation about these Master PC generated hermaphrodites. No one knew how they had come to exist. Rikko Gresserhof never responded to press inquiries (and there had been dozens) regardless of where they originated. She had a marketing department, of course, and their instructions were that the company never talks about individual performers or gives details of their production methods. The Futanari videos were shot in secret locations and security was rigidly enforced. She had the money and the will to pull it off. So far, so good. Sales were spectacular. Both VOD and DVD sales were off the charts; setting records every week. It was good to be Rikko Gresserhof.

Oh there had been snoops, but she had dealt with them; humanely and non-violently. Anyone who stuck their nose into Polymorph business could expect to suddenly conceive a notion to spend some quality time in Kenya, or Pakistan working with the poor – something that had apparently been a long submerged desire suddenly made possible through a foundation grant (a foundation supported by Rikko). These people just dropped everything and were never heard from again. They had no desire to return to the U.S. and no interest in adult fare of any kind. And that, as they say, was that.

So on this particular morning, Rikko Gresserhof was happy with the world, happy with her life, and completely unprepared for meeting anyone else who had the power of the Master PC. The idea that someone else could have found this techno-magical software never entered her mind. It should have, of course, anyone could see it. But Rikko was just enough of a narcissist to have a blind spot when it came to the abilities of others.

She happened to be in California on the day after David Donaldson arrived in L.A., and she was scheduled to be in the warehouse/offices used by Polymorph for a meeting with her local crew of videographers, editors, lighting technicians, and directors. It was a regularly scheduled staff meeting and she was not expecting any surprises; or visitors.

David, having instructed his driver to wait for him, walked up the sidewalk to the door of the unprepossessing building on Cahuenga where Polymorph's legal filings indicated that its records were kept. It looked like a building that might house a small manufacturing firm – part brick and part pole building. The front door opened when he pulled on it suggesting there was someone inside. A short hallway led to a reception area where an exquisite young lady with exotic Asian features sat behind a desk. She was on the phone as David strolled up to her desk. Her gesture suggested that he have a seat and he did so. The call ended.

"May I help you sir?"

"I hope so," David said, smiling what he felt was his most charming smile. It was the one that said "I'm completely harmless and whatever it is I'm going to ask you to do is neither illegal nor unwise and you should do it forth with."

He stood and stepped to the desk taking a card out of his pocket as he did so.

"Would you please tell Rikko Gresserhof that David Donaldson is here to see her," he said, handing her a piece of white paste board with "David Donaldson" and "Investments" printed in plain black letters on it. On the back he had written "Master PC." Simple plans are often the best. On the way over David had gone through a dozen different strategies for getting into see the head of the company, assuming she was even there, and finally he had concluded that a straight forward approach might offer the best chance of success.

"I will see if she is available. Please have a seat. This won't take long," the beautiful young woman said, picking up the telephone receiver as she spoke. She punched a couple of numbers and spoke quietly in Japanese for a few moments. David didn't speak Japanese but he caught his name and "Master PC."

What she heard from the other end must have surprised her because she looked at David with some surprise and said, "Miss Gresserhof will be with you shortly."

David smiled, although at a lower wattage this time – he no longer needed to charm the receptionist. She didn't look at him again anyway. A few seconds later a door behind the reception desk opened. Another, equally beautiful, woman stepped through.

"Mr. Donaldson," she queried?

"That's me," David said, standing.

"I am Rikko's assistant. Please come with me."

She held the door open. David walked past her and into another hallway. The assistant took the lead from that point and he followed her down the hall taking a moment to admire her figure from the back. She was Asian and dressed in the traditional cheongsam often seen on Chinese women. In this case the garment came to just above her knees. It hugged her form and accentuated her figure, which appeared to be perfect – perfect for a Barbie Doll anyway. It was worth admiring and the high heels she wore gave her a very sexy wriggle as she walked down the thickly carpeted hallway.

They came to the end of the hall and another door, which the woman opened. There was another reception area with another door behind it. She went to the door and knocked, then opened the door without waiting for a response.

"Mr. Donaldson to see you Rikkosan."

"Show him in, and then see that we are not disturbed." The voice was feminine and authoritative, strong yet pleasant.

"Please go in, Mr. Donaldson."

"Thank you."

David went through the door and heard it shut behind him with an electronic suggesting that it was now locked. A person David took to be Rikko Gresserhof stood there in front of a large and expensive looking desk made of some exotic wood – the better part of a forest considering the size of it. She was powerfully built yet absolutely jaw dropping beautiful. And when she stepped forward to shake his hand in greeting she moved with the grace of a large jungle cat. David was instantly on guard.

"Mr. Donaldson," she said, "I am Rikko Gresserhof."

"David Donaldson," David said, taking the offered hand and feeling its power as they gripped. He gripped back letting her know that she wasn't the only augmented being in the room – something she had to suspect already, "Pleased to meet you."

"Let's sit down over here," Rikko said pointing to the area to the left of the desk where a couple of leather wing backed chairs faced each other over a small table. David sat down and waited. In these types of transactions he who speaks first loses.

Rikko Gresserhof sat down opposite him. She held his business card in her hand flicking it idly with a well-manicured fingernail.

"What is your purpose here, Mr. Donaldson," She asked.

"I might ask you the same."

"I do not play games and I do not have time for those who do," she replied with a note of impatience.

"Very well. You have my card. You read what it says on the back and that's why I'm sitting here, I presume. I'm guessing that if someone dropped by and handed a card to the nice young lady at the front desk that just said so-and-so investments that he or she would very politely be told that Ms. Gresserhof was not available. I wanted to speak with you and I played a hunch."

"It's Mrs. Gresserhof, by the way, I am a widow. What do you know of the Master PC?"

"I am sorry for your loss," David said, matching the matter-of-factness of her revelation with his own dead pan reply. "How much time do you have?"

She made an impatient noise.

"What I believe is that you used Master PC software to create the perfect men, women, and futas you employ in your videos."

Her raised eyebrow was worthy of Mr. Spock. David took this for all the response he was going to get and continued.

"First of all, nothing unreal exists, and, when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. As soon as I saw one of Polymorph's futanari productions I eliminated a number of possibilities and came to the conclusion that techno-magic was the only reasonable explanation."

"And your purpose here today is...?"

"I have several purposes. Like you, I possess a copy of the Master PC program. I have used it judiciously and in ways that will not result in unwanted attention or legal scrutiny. Like you, I have made some changes to my physicality in order to help create a better life for myself. Like you, I have generated a business using the software, although not in as overt a manner as this. That said, I have several purposes here today. One is to warn you that you are calling too much attention to yourself. I have always assumed that there are others who have discovered this magic software. I am always on watch, looking for clues as to who these others might be; when I see something that might be Master PC related I investigate. So far, I have found only one other person who knows about this software, and that was an accident. Second, I have some ethical concerns about how these individuals are being created. I am opposed to mind control and slavery in any form. I want to know that the people I've seen in your videos – the impossibly beautiful men, women, and Futas – are all experiencing these changes consensually. Finally, I have an abiding interest in pornography, particularly that which involves transgendered or hermaphroditic individuals, and I must say that your Futanari series has been one of the most stimulating I have ever seen. I would like to meet one of your creations, if for no other reason than to admire your genius first hand."

Rikko said nothing for a few moments. She gave David an appraising look. Having said what he came to say, David sat quietly, his hands folded comfortably on his lap. After a few moments, Rikko reached a decision and spoke.

"You're not the first person to come nosing around my company. None of them found out anything and all walked away completely satisfied that nothing untoward was happening here. A few were very persistent. They were dealt with. And, no, I didn't have them killed. In fact they are all living very satisfying lives a long way away from here and have absolutely no curiosity about Polymorph or even about pornography. Your concern is misplaced." She paused. "Would you care for something to drink, Mr. Donaldson?"

"If you're having something, yes," David replied.

Rikko got up and went to a recessed set of shelves and poured some amber liquid from a crystal decanter into a pair of Irish crystal low ball glasses. She handed one to David and then sat down. David had admired her form as she moved. He found her appearance quite appealing in a curious way. He had never been in the presence of anyone who exuded as much raw animal sexuality. It could, if he wasn't careful, be quite intoxicating.
"Success to crime," she said, holding her glass up before taking a sip.

"Success to crime," David repeated. It was scotch. Good scotch – if-you-have-to-ask-the-price-you-can't-afford-it scotch. It tasted like disinfectant but went down the throat like the most soothing honey he'd ever experienced.

"As to your second purpose, you have my word that everyone I've 'changed' as you put it got exactly what they wanted. I conducted an exhaustive interview process before hand to find the right individuals. They think they underwent surgery at a special 'clinic' I operate in Switzerland. The truth is, they went to sleep one way and woke up another. They believe they went through a new and very secret experimental surgical procedure. The fact that the process was accomplished with several dozen key strokes on a computer is something that they wouldn't understand or find the least bit interesting."

"I would like to talk to some of them, just to satisfy myself on that point."

"As for your third purpose," she went on as if he hadn't spoken, "you have already accomplished it."

"What do you mean?"

"You have been in the presence of a Futa for the past fifteen minutes."

She smiled and stood up, finishing the last of her scotch. David did likewise.

"Come," she said, holding out her hand.

He took it and she led him to a door sized panel in the wall next to the drinks cabinet. She put her hand to the wall and the panel slid aside revealing another room. This room had even thicker carpet and recessed lighting. A large bed dominated the space. As David crossed the threshold the panel slid shut behind him leaving no evidence that there had been an opening in the wall. Rikko led him to the bed and motioned for him to sit. She reached behind her and unzipped her dress. As it fell to the floor she reached behind her again and unfastened her bra which joined the dress in a puddle at her feet. Her breasts were perfectly sized for the rest of her body and capped with perfectly shaped areolas topped by deep read and perfectly tapered nipples. David saw a significant bulge in her panties and his breathing began to quicken. Rikko put her fingers into the waistband of her panties and began to pull them down.

David's heart rate and respiration continued increase. His mouth was a little dry. His eyes were riveted to Rikko's hands as she began to peel off the panties. As they came down he realized that they were more of a jock strap than anything else. She bent over, obscuring his view for a moment, and then she was standing in front of him -- naked, beautiful, and perfect. Her body was a work of a master sculptor. She was well muscled everywhere but not with the bulging body-builder type of muscles that feature thick ropey veins all over the place. The muscle was there but her body was that of a woman; at least until you looked between her legs.

There, in front of him, was a cock that could best be described as "porn ready." It was long and thick and it sprang semi-erect as it was released from its fabric cage.

"See anything you like?"

David was speechless. This was NOT a common occurrence. Rikko laughed. Then she turned around so that her magnificent, that is to say perfectly sculpted, ass was pointing at his face. She bent over and spread her legs. Then she reached back and spread her cheeks giving David a clear view of what was between them. David tried to swallow and failed. He was in the presence of a living, breathing, real hermaphrodite. Not something ginned up out of dildos and spirit gum, but the real deal. There was a cock – no question – but where the balls should have been were perfectly formed labia surrounding a vaginal opening that was anatomically correct in every detail, with that magnificent cock taking the place of a clitoris. And the pussy was wet. David could tell that just from looking at it. His enhanced olfactory senses picked up her womanly scent. The room was thick with pheromones; his and hers.

"Why am I the only one naked here?" Rikko asked. She walked to where David was sitting and relieved him of his suit jacket, which she very carefully hung in the closet. She came back to him.

"Stand up, and for gods' sake, say something."

David tried to speak but in the end he just moaned. He stood up. Rikko unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it out of his pants. He managed to kick off his shoes while she hung the shirt next his jacket. She had his slacks off and hung before he could get his socks off. She pulled those off for him and then smiled at the bulge in his underwear.

"I don't think I'm the only one who did a little self enhancement. Am I right?"

"A little," David finally managed to croak.

Rikko laughed. "No pun intended, I'll bet."

David managed to get his own underwear off at least and then they were both naked. He felt like a little boy with a hundred dollar bill in his pocket standing in the middle of the world's biggest candy store. He didn't know where to look first or what to touch or anything. His cock was an iron bar jutting out proudly from his flat belly. Rikko looked at it hungrily.

"Ever get fucked in the ass, David? I can call you David, can't I? You can call me Rikko."

"Yes. I've been fucked in the ass."

"Like it?"

"Always, when the person fucking me knew their business."

"Honey, you have come to the right place. We are going to fuck each other silly and you are going to go back to wherever it is you came from with a check mark on your bucket list next to 'fuck a futa.'"

Rikko pushed him back onto the bed and urged him farther back and up toward the head. She followed, straddling him, knee walking until her cock was inches from his face.

"Suck it, David. You want to, I know it. I can see it in your eyes."

David opened his mouth. Rikko leaned forward and put the head of her gristle missile between his lips. He moaned as he felt it enter his mouth. He licked and sucked greedily. It was, after all, a giant clitoris in one respect and it was at the very top of a perfectly formed set of labial lips that surrounded a perfectly penetrable vagina. Of course, this "clitoris" was very special; he could already taste the fluids leaking from its tip with the certain promise of more to come. It smelled like a cock. It tasted like a cock. It felt like a cock in his mouth. It was a cock. He was sucking it. He could smell the odor of Rikko's vaginal fluids as well which was like adding gasoline to his libidinous fire. David was so incredibly aroused he thought he might have a no-hands orgasm.

Rikko Gresserhof looked down to where her giant clitoris was forcing its way into David Donaldson's mouth. She smiled. Once he tasted her cum he would forget all about his reasons for visiting California. He would go back to wherever he came from and never bother her again. She would, however, give some thought to his warning. Not a lot of thought, but some. In the meantime she enjoyed the feeling of having her giant she-cock sucked with such enthusiasm. She gasped when his fingers probed the entrance to her pussy.

She reached back and gripped David's not inconsiderable length of male flesh and stroked it. She loved how it throbbed in her hand. She would let him fuck her futa pussy but first he would have a belly full of her special cream and he would be her sex slave for as long as she felt like playing with him. David was oblivious to all of this. He was enjoying the taste and texture of Rikko's massive meat as it slid in and out of his mouth. His fingers were exploring the area just behind the base of Rikko's super sized clit; the moist (very moist) cleft that invited his digits inside.

"Ooooo...yessssss," Rikko hissed, "finger my futa pussy baby while you suck my clitty. Put two in and stroke it...that's it...that's it...oh baby...mama's gonna get off...that's it...don't stop...don't you dare fucking stop..."

Rikko had both hands on the headboard of the bed and was fucking David's face with her clit/cock while he finger fucked her futa pussy. She pinched and pulled her nipples as she wound closer and closer to her climax.

"FUCK!" She shouted. Rikko grabbed David's head and held it.

"Yeah...yeah...yeah...yeah...oh baby...yeah..." Rikko grunted as she felt herself going over the edge.

"Take it...take it baby!" She screamed as her inner plumbing began pumping huge amounts of futa jizz into David's gulping gullet. He swallowed and swallowed and swallowed some more. Rikko pulled back and blasted a thick stream into David's wide open mouth. He had never tasted anything like it. The sweetest pussy in the world didn't taste this good. It was ambrosia. He gripped the huge appendage in both hands and pumped while Rikko grunted above him and fired off another volley that missed him entirely and splattered against the headboard.

Suddenly, Rikko moved back down David's body and impaled her futa pussy on David's cock all in one go. More cum spurted from her futa cock and splashed on David's chest.

"Aiiiiieeeeee....fuckmefuckmefuckME!" She screamed as she bounced up and down on David's prick. Her foaming pussy was a clutching, grasping, velvet vice around David's hardness. He was dizzy from sensations so intense that his nervous system was struggling to process all of the input his pleasure receptors were receiving. He continued to stroke Rikko's cock while she repeatedly speared herself with his and he felt his balls tighten in their sack as he prepared to return fire with his own brand of jizz.

"Gonna cum!" was all the warning he gave her before he sprayed her insides with a thick coat of semen. He groaned as she squeezed him; her powerful kegel muscles milking him as her own orgasmic contractions continued. Her pussy orgasm caused more cum to fly out of the end of her futa cock. The room reeked of sex.

Rikko slowed the motion of her hips. She was impressed that David's cock remained stiff as a poker even after he'd ejaculated. Her own prodigious penis was likewise still hard. A drop of cum beaded at the tip. She wiped it off with a well manicured fingertip and placed it on David's lips. He opened his mouth and licked the offering savoring the funky flavor.

What Rikko didn't understand was that David had made himself proof against all chemical persuasion whether alcohol, drugs, or in this case, enhanced futanari jism. She thought she would make him her slave with her semen and then modify his memory as she had so many others who had come looking for the futas. She was still under this impression as she leaned forward and pressed her tits against his chest.

"What are you thinking right now," she whispered in his ear.

"I'm thinking I just had the most amazing sexual experience of my entire life so far, and that's saying something," David responded enjoying the feeling of his cock buried in Rikko's futa pussy. A half second later, Rikko found herself on her back with her ankles crossed behind her neck.

"But that was just round one," David growled. "We're nowhere near done yet," he added as he began to slam his rock hard fuck rod into Rikko's belly. Her face was a picture of shock and desire as she attempted to process this sudden reversal. She'd gone from dominant to, what? Submissive? Surely not. She always ran the show.

David's speech was punctuated by the grunts of effort he made as he attempted to pound Rikko's athletic frame through the mattress and into the floor. This was brutality fucking at its best.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" He asked rhetorically. "When I saw that you were a futanari yourself I began to suspect that you might have laced your semen with a little something to help you control your subjects – it's what I might have done in your place. But, as you can see, it didn't work. It was delicious and I would like to taste it again. In fact, I intend to. But first we're going to have a little understanding about who is in charge. Here's a hint. It isn't you."

Rikko was pinned to the bed, her legs bent back at an extreme angle and her ankles secured by David's strong hands. Her cock was powerfully erect and spitting a steady series of seminal spurts that collected between her tits and ran back to her neck. Every hammering stroke of David's cock hit that magic spot inside her futa pussy; that combination prostate and g-spot that made her orgasms so sweet and strong; and her desire for pleasure held her captive more powerfully than her captor's strong hands ever could.

"FUCK ME!" Rikko screamed.

"Jerk your cock," David commanded, not slowing his pace or reducing the force of his thrusts. Rikko had both hands wrapped around her raging, spitting, fuck stick before she even had time to think about it. David bent her back even further so that her cock was pointed directly at her face.

"Open your mouth."

His command hit her brain like a slap in the face and her surprise overcame her will to resist. She opened her mouth and screamed just as a powerful orgasmic wave took her and the fire hose in her fists began pouring its frothy nectar directly into her mouth. She tasted the sweet concoction for the first time. She swallowed. She wanted more. She kept jerking her massive appendage as David kept fucking her and the flow continued. Her face was soon a jizz-covered mess as some of the spurts missed their target or hit her lips while she swallowed. She'd never eaten her own spooge before. Nor had she made herself immune to its effects. It had never occurred to her that she would meet someone like David. And now her plans and strategies had evaporated like July rain on an L.A. sidewalk.

David watched Rikko's eyes change as the effects of her Master PC enhanced semen took hold. Her face went blank for a moment and then her eyes refocused on him, but they looked different. Her whole demeanor changed.

"What does my Master command?" she gasped as David continued to pummel her pussy.

"Obedience, slave slut," he growled.

"Tell me where your Master PC discs are located," he ordered, never slowing the pace of his fucking.

"In my safe in the Manhattan loft," she said, her affect flat and lifeless even as her body continued to respond to his harsh and brutal fucking.

"When we are through, you will go there, remove the discs and destroy them. You will delete the program from any computer that it is installed on, and you will forget that you ever used the program or even knew about it."

"Yes, Master. I will obey," she replied.

"Is there a copy installed on the computer in the next room?"

"Yes."

"Is it password protected?"

"Yes."

"What is the password?"

"s, underscore, futa, underscore, ampersand, dollar sign, per cent sign, 2, 7," she replied.

"Go to sleep, slave."

Rikko's eyes closed almost instantly. David withdrew his cock from her pussy, released his hold on her ankles, and softly padded back over to the hidden door. He found the trigger and was soon sitting behind Rikko's desk typing away on her computer's keyboard. She would remember none of this. Her company would continue, of course – at least for a while. She had a large stable of men, women, and futanari who were under contract. She would accept his offer to buy into her company and become a partner in the enterprise. Anyone who made inquiries would be referred to him and he would deal with them, probably in much the same way that Rikko had been doing. She would be his slave for as long as he wanted her; he did not release her from the effects of her futa-jism, but she would not be able to enslave anyone else in that way, nor would she remember ever having been able to. He also made it impossible for anyone else to modify her in any way using Master PC and he doubled up on memory blocks so that she would never remember having discovered or used the techno-magic software. She would also forget any erotic fiction concerning Master PC that she had read or heard about.

She would remember nothing about how she became a futanari. As far as she was concerned she and the other dick girls had been born that way – weird genetic mutations cased by who knows what kind of radioactive spider bites or something. They had all connected on the 'net and she had led them to help her create this porno video empire which made them all a lot of money.

She would remember that David had come to talk to her about investing in the company and that she had been favorably disposed toward his proposal, not to mention turned on by his manly self confidence and sexy smile. He had enslaved her with his cock and she would always submit to him in any way that he thought necessary. While he was at it, he gave her his standard Master PC health upgrades, and he did the same for those of her staff whose names he could remember. Why not?

Satisfied for the moment, and knowing that he could take further steps if it became necessary, he uninstalled the program, deleted all files using a DOD shredding algorithm he carried on his thumb drive, shut down the computer, and went back into the hidden room where Rikko still lay sleeping, a look of blissful peace on her beautiful Asian countenance. Her cock had softened and lay like a large cigar against her thigh. The sight of it brought his cock back to rock hard readiness. But he was done with her for now. He hadn't taken that cock up the ass yet, but he knew he would, eventually. Now that he had discovered the secret to the futanari he knew that he could have one to fuck pretty much whenever he wanted. But, curiously, that thought didn't thrill him the way he imagined it should have.

David didn't stop to think about why that was. He found a bathroom just off the bedroom and was happy to see that it had a shower. He got cleaned up, put his clothes back on, and then commanded Rikko to wake up and do the same.

"Yes, Master," she said as he ordered her to shower and dress.

"You will only call me Master when we are alone, or unless I give you permission if others are present," he commanded.

"Yes, Master. To hear is to obey."

He slapped her on the ass and said, "go get cleaned up. We have business to discuss."

An hour later he left with a signed agreement in his pocket giving him control of a significant piece of Rikko's porn enterprise in exchange for a significant, but not obscene, amount of money. It was a serious chunk of David's current net worth, but he wasn't worried. He knew this company was a gold mine and the investment would pay off tenfold in no time. And, if it didn't? Well, he knew how to make more money.

On the plane ride home he realized that the vague sense of wrongness in his life was actually a bout of ennui. He'd just achieved something really tremendous, satisfied a long held fantasy, had some terrific sex, made what he thought of as a wise investment, gotten to have dinner with a famous L.A. porn director, and enjoyed a few days in the California sunshine. Why then did he feel so empty? What was missing?

Somewhere over Nebraska or one of the other fly-over states, it hit him. Julia. He missed her. No, it was more than that. He would have wanted her to share what he had found in L.A., and the fact that she wasn't there diminished his pleasure. He wanted her to share everything. He even wanted to tell her about the Master PC (he wouldn't tell her of course, because that would have been one of the most incredibly stupid things anyone in history ever did), but he had to find a way to explain to her that he was different from other men. More importantly he wanted to tell her that he was in love with her and that she completed him in ways that he had never thought possible. He had thought that Kathleen O'Brien, one of the few other Master PC owners he had met, was his soul mate and love of his life. But she had eventually given him the "Dear John" treatment when he refused to get a divorce. He'd contacted her after his wife left him to become a Nun, but Kathleen had moved on and was now married and living somewhere in the South Pacific on a private island. And then there had been Amy, the woman he'd met at the Florida resort where he sometimes vacationed. After their one meeting he'd never heard from her again and his own efforts at communication had gone unanswered. He'd gotten over Kathleen, and gotten over Amy, and vowed that he would never allow himself to become that emotionally involved with another woman ever again.
But, Julia had become a real breath of fresh air, as far as his relationships with women were concerned. He hadn't fallen for her right away. At first he just enjoyed her sexy ways, sense of fun, and willingness to enjoy their FWB relationship without being jealous of his other lovers, female or male. But the longer they worked together the more he realized that she completed him; that he loved her. Did she love him? Since clairvoyance wasn't one of the powers he'd claimed through the Master PC ("Read minds? No thanks."), he couldn't be sure. He knew she regarded him with a great deal of affection. Was it love? What if he declared his feelings and she rejected him? What if he asked her to marry him and her kids objected? What if? What if? What if?

He closed his eyes and began to meditate, placing himself in a light trance as the big jet carved its path through the air toward Minneapolis. By the time his flight was at the gate, he knew what he would do and having a plan put a smile back on his face, a whistle to his lips, and a spring in his step. He and Julia were going to have a romantic weekend somewhere remote and snow covered, and that's where he would get his answers one way or another.