Flaser Posts

Dussack jumped once more, the handle jerking another inch and coming to a solid stop. Finally... With the last lug in place, it was secure, so he got in started the engine and took off toward the hotel.

...

Earlier, it took him a good twenty minutes to load the two paramedics, make sure both them and Charon were strapped in, get rid of the shot-up to tire and replace it with the spare one. The later he could've done it in the hotel's garage, but he wanted to limit the amount of footage Rudy had to doctor to the minimum.

He was working while the technomancer pinged him:

>Boss?
>What?
>You won't believe this, but *Midnight* just strolled in...
>Apparently he left on some "urgent" business of his own...
>Tama de!
>'scuse me?!
>Not you, I'll explain later...
>-.-" OK.

He was done taking off the shot up tire, when he pinged Rudy for a heads-up:

>Is Sandy there yet?
>She arrived a couple of minutes ago, she's with the Doctor now.
>Any prognosis on Leblanc?
>Dunno, boss. I've been busy fixing the comlinks.
>Good job. At least there's *one* guy I can rely on beside Sandman.
>^.^"
>How is *that* coming along? I'm gonna need a secure comlink soon...
>Almost done with the piece Cronis gave me, yours will take...
>Later. Finish the comlink, then get started fixing the hotel's logs... RAW footage too.
>But...
>I know! You pwned them...
>I hate pulling you off the job like this, but we might might need to move soon.
>Got 'ya. Rudy out.

...

The intervening minutes were silent except for the disorienting wafts of thought and morels of information as Saul was still wafting through the security logs of the hotel. He was almost there when he pinged the technomancer.

>Get down to the garage I'll be there in a moment.
>Have Fang accompany you, he might as well do something useful.
>10-4
>...and take care of the...
>Cameras. Got you covered, Mr. Solo.
>Roger OPs, Dussack out.

He rolled into the garage and the elevator doors opened, as if by magic...

Call me a plutocrat and corporate boot-licker, but didn't Disney actually buy the Western distribution rights to Ghibli films? There's even a famous anecdote that Hayao Miyazaki sent a samurai sword to the localization team as a gift and the note "No cuts". The guys at Disney kept their end of the bargain. While their was some fan-dumb outrage over some of the Woolseyisms employed, Miyazaki himself was very satisfied with their job.

Personally I'm no fan of the corporation Disney, for various reasons like their super aggressive legal stance and the copyright laws being extended ad infinitum on their behalf.

However in this case I don't see how they'd be the super bad guys, since the original author made a deal with them of his own will, they respected the source material and in the end brought some wonderful films to the American and western audiences that a lot of them wouldn't have watched otherwise.

It was a windpipe, not a lung, liver or heart. It wasn't neural tissue either.

http://boingboing.net/2012/01/02/spare-parts-for-humans-tissue.html

...we *are* getting there. However it's going to be years until these techniques can be used in humans to replace entire organs (in the conventional sense of the name).

It was time for some precision weaponry - "Fuck." - the F-bomb. "Smurfette is totally out of it... or Alan Moore was onto something when he wrote the 'Invisibles' and I'm told he was using at the time. - Dussack glanced at counter with the desperate longing of hardened alcoholics. - No, not now... - He ignored the temptation and sat in chair in the middle of the room instead.

"Let's go over what we already have." - he turned to the young, would be Runner. "OK, Traitor, let's see the list." - As he started to pore it over, he snorted in derision. "For something you put together on your own, it's not bad... however it's full of stupid, rookie mistakes."

He fished inside his jacket and was soon enough flushing his lungs with smoke. For a while he merely puffed, as Traitor was simmering with mixed embarrassment and rage.

"You list weapons that use at least four different calibers of ammunition, half the weapons you list - especially with the hollow point rounds - won't penetrate body-armor, much less any decent cover."

The hit-man gave the boy a hard stare.

"How the hell would we haul all this shit in case we need to hoof it? Should we all carry an arsenal of these toys in case we need to raid a disco or free some hostages? Should we just distribute a couple among ourselves and hope the right guy will be in the right spot?"

He shook his head, as if to dispel his own misgivings.

"I'll go over the list with you, but the moral you should take to heart is that when you're assigned to someone more experienced, you ask them for advice and don't let pride or some other bullshit notion or honor get in the way of that. If you could do the job on your own, then you wouldn't have a partner in the first place".

At last the management sim hummed to life, the Weapons column grayed out for now. The Matrix and Cyber ones were highlighted.

"Rudy. Our hysterical precog was right about one thing... I want you to harden all devices in the group, especially the comlinks. I'll wire a list of active-softs that I want you to hunt down, but for now focus on getting our cyber-security up and running." - for a change, he waited until the hacker confirmed the request.

"This are is your expertise, so I'll leave planning and execution to you... this means the rest of you will give Rudy full access to your devices, no exceptions. Damn... we should've done this shit yesterday."

The cyber & matrix columns take on an amber glow, denoting that responsibility has been handed over. The itinerary will be filled in as Rudy plans it.

"That leaves Intel. I want whatever info we have collated and if you have some spooks or analysts on call, now will be the time to avail their talents. Once I've run it past Leblanc, I'll also put out requests for a bunch of other areas as our first layer of misinformation. Only then, with my permission are you to work your contacts."

The Intel column took on a red color, denoting its priority. Training by comparison turned pink, denoting it has been put on back-burner.

"The first weps-training session will be postponed by four hours. This is my fault, I should've kept a closer watch on things. I'll also change the number of participants from 3 to 5 so we should have everyone cycled through in two sessions... unfortunately this also means we won't have a make-up session, so everyone better attend one of these. I'll lead the first session and I guess Sandy will handle the second when we finish our detail."

He paused to light another cig, his previous one all used up.

"I know being told to do stuff like this is not to your liking, but we only have two days to get things on the road. I'll go and arrange training now, meanwhile I strongly suggest you take the opportunity to do your 'homework' now... read and memorize the history of the area, familiarize yourself with the various tribes, leaders and gangs. There won't be a written exam, instead you might just piss of the wrong people and get raped, butchered and tossed in a ditch... not necessarily in this order."

"I guess I've barked enough, get in gear, get stuff done."

"Hey! What did I do?" His gaze sweeps the room... "Oh, you gotta be joking! Get your mind out of the gutter... I didn't do anything to her... I'm not into jail-bait." - he jerks his thumb at Riselotte to make it obvious whom he's talking about.

When Riselotte left, Dussack could finally stop pretending to sleep. Not noticing a sleeping and very still person wrapped in blankets was one thing... ignoring the shirking violet, while she voiced her distress mere meters away was another. He sat up and started his morning exercises.

How the fuck did she get in here in the first place? - he thought in the middle of some sit-ups. - Playback initiated. - He once again saw the dark room, the view jarring as his, back then tired self, stumbled into the room... and there she was, clearly visible in thermal vision. So he must've been rather out of it yesterday.

No more 72-hour shifts! - he thought with distress. The last job, tracking down the elf required staying up for two days straight... then this job turned his life upside down.

He finished his routine with push-ups and left the room still clad only in a bathrobe.

"Everyone up? Good." - He grabbed his clothes from the living room sofa. "Assemble everyone not on security as we need to go through the rest of the itinerary and the first group has to leave for Weaps-School in an hour."

He ducked into the master bathroom for a quick shower and his underwear. Seven minutes later he was back in the living room, dressed and shaved. It was only then that he paid attention to the looks everyone was throwing him and Riselotte.

"What?!" - he exclaimed with annoyance.

Since the events within the bathroom exceeded the PG-13 rating roleplaying thread are allowed to take on, that part of the story was posted as a stand alone piece of fiction.

Once done with the shower, it's Dussack who leaves the bathroom first.

"I'll be in the master bedroom if you want company or anything comes up." - he told the redhead solo, as he closed the door. He doubted anyone would be selfish enough to take the double bed only for themselves. He was already allowing his senses to dull in preparation for sleep as opened the door. Not even bothering to change out of the bathrobes, he collapsed onto the bed, like a puppet with its strings cut, a quick ping of the suit's security system confirming secure status before sleep overtakes him.[/color]

//It's up to Rise-chan whether her PC stirs or remains unaware of the intruder. In the later case, she may notice a certain alluring scent waft toward her... from the open lacerations on the hit-man's body.

This piece of fiction ties into the relevant Shadowrun game. Since games can't contain sexy stuff for the powers that be may take that as engaging in "cyber", this story is posted here as a stand alone piece of fiction, reformatted and somewhat tidied up to stand on its own.

---

The solo and hired gun, Paul Dussack Kovacs was not having a good day. The job was a major headache. Not only was his SOP of total confidentially blown wide open by the Johnson, it seemed like he was also stuck baby sitting a bunch of "kids".

Oh, in their own areas of expertise the Runners were quite skilled and versatile... it's just that they were too used to their Fixers setting everything up for them rather than having to arrange things on their own... hence why he was stuck doing logistics, as he'd sooner drive himself into an early grave through sheer exhaustion than leave the sensitive task to these gun-nuts, tech-heads and all around loonies.

"Training's going to be bitch, what with people constantly on security detail... Bah! There's no way around it, once everyone has had their turn at weapon familiarization, we'll have to have Madame Leblanc join us for the final team-maneuver exercises. Most Runners make for piss-poor bodyguards... this won't change much, but I want at least the basics of covering and extracting our VIP drilled into the lot of you."

On the Tri-Dee, a bunch of 4 hour shifts of WP familiarization showed up, 3 sessions for the second day, the third day had a single session, marked Make Up, scheduled and an 8 hour shift for Team Drill.

"Since we're gonna need a whole bunch of talents & skills for the job, other than me, who has skill-wires here?"

Sandman, the other solo on team watched the short take charge of the band as if it was second nature... it was annoying, but the man had a point. These bunch were too used to having things arranged by their Fixer and needed to be kept in line... however he was overdoing it. It's been a long day and a few hours of sleep would do all of them much good.

She stepped behind the short hit man and wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself against his back from behind. There was definitely no doubt, she wasn't wearing a bra. Her voice was nothing but a hoarse purr against his ear - "And what kind of chip do you want to plug in?" - her fleshy lips breathing a hot whisper against his ear - "Is it ... much?" - and then she was already slipping away, giggling to herself as she wandered off to the master bathroom of the penthouse. - "I am going to take a shower and then catch a few hours of sleep. You should give them a rest, Dussack. It has been a long night ... for you too." - She sauntered off toward the door at the back of the hall.

Oh, yeah! Then there was her. It was adrenaline inducing... Love? Hate? He couldn't tell. It was "recognition" of sorts at first site. They were bound to get on each others nerves, they were too similar not to. Freckles, green eyes, a blazing red mane of about shoulder length hair... enough cybernetics to give airport scanners a seizure. The Irish femme-fatal was on his case from the get go and he couldn't figure out for the hell of it, whether they'd blow each others brains out or do the same fucking. Lust... both blood and otherwise was in the air between them.

Dussack violently shoved his chair back, the heavy furniture almost falling over. - "We better have some rest. Now if you'll excuse me, I believe I need to chip into a red-headed cyberpunk." He stormed off toward the master bathroom, throwing his suit's jacket on the living room sofa. A moment later pair of pants came flying through the doorway into the bathroom foyer. Slamming the door behind him, he head a faceful of gun for his troubles.

There was no possibility of her not noticing the sound of the chair and the hurried steps behind her. Over twenty years of training and high-grade cyber-ears just couldn't fail her on that matter. Especially because she had expected some sort of reaction... anything from him trying to fuck her to him trying hurt her - a lot – or both.

The moment the door shut, she pointed her .50 cal a revolver at his head. Grinning her typical, smug grin, she cocked the hammer with her thumb. - "Not even through the first date buster, and already blowing your bruscar?"

Backing down would've been smart. Backing down would've been good for his health. Backing down was the last thing on his mind.

Stepping closer, the revolver pressed on his forehead. He had his own grin plastered over his face. - "Ever watched Hana-Bi? You know, with Takeshi *BEAT* Kitano?" - grabbing the gun by the barrel with his left hand and centering on his brow he went on "...like when this Yakuza has him at gun point, just like this?" - changing grip he stepped closer...

"Do you know, what he did then?... he jammed the hammer just like I did...then beat the *shit* out of that punk!" - At the moment even if she pulled the trigger, the gun wouldn't have fired. Dussack's finger was in the way. He leaned in closer, his right hand coming up, his own gun's already in it and... Huh? He was holding the gun by its body, reversed in his hand.

Something flashed through her poison green eyes, as he pulled the stunt, her grin getting a tiny bit wider. She got her exactly the time needed to release a cloud of pheromones - a dose that would send a full grown troll go nuts - waiting just for the tiny little drop in his focus. The next thing he knew, she was pressed against him, back rammed into the door and a very sharp blade very close to his throat.

With the gun reversed he should be at her mercy... fufufu... Why is he leaning in and kissing her? She heard a click, as the gun cocked itself, the barrel casually cool on her temples... Idiot, that's a smartgun! He doesn't need a trigger to fire it... - she thought, but the solos lips were already mashed against her own, their bodies locked in a savage embrace of promised violence and raging desires. She pressed her body harder into his, her artificial muscles and bones starting to crush him against the door. The monofilament blade dangerously caressed his skin, drawing some blood, as her tongue rubbed against his.

He turned them over, but she was stronger than him, so all he could manage was to stumble into the bathroom proper, almost falling over the easy chair next to the tub. Coming up for air, the pair heaved as they continued to struggle with one another... he trailed kisses over her neck and collarbone, his free arm stroking her sides, trailing over her ribs.

She turned the Japanese steel downwards, the sharp side pointing toward herself, and slid it down his shirt. Slowly. Carefully. Precisely. Letting him still feel the cold steel against his naked chest, as she cut the fabric open. The fingers of her other hand close around his jaw, forcing his face back up and his mouth open, pushing her tongue once more between his lips.

His free hand sneaked below her shirt and cupped her breast. She moaned into his mouth as his fingers brushed over the pert nipple... while his other hand, gun still held in it, wrapped around her neck pulled them closer. She let go of him then, so as not to get skewered by her own blade, but he just kept kissing her, their tongues battling one other the whole time.

She curled a bit, just to give herself enough space to pull out the short sword from between them and to take it aside. Not caring that it may slide the furniture into pieces, she let it clatter over the bathroom floor. The next moment she was already wrapped around him, arms around his waist, legs around his hips. Though she was still keeping her strength under control and he wondered for how much longer she would go on doing so, as she let out another low moan. Discarded, his pistol, clattered to the ground as he finally let his lust take over.

He grabbed the hem of her shirt, tugging it up. As the garment almost passed her head, he trapped her in the tangle of clothes and laid a trail of kisses down her throat and moved further down toward her teats. Blowing hot air, he watched her chest heave with anticipation as a groan of impatience escaped her lips, trusting her whole body at him to continue. He descended on the pears of flesh, sucking the sensitive numbs and twirling his tongue while he caressed the curve of her hips with his other hand.

Her eyes fluttered shut for the first time since they started this dance. Her breath was getting heavier, her voice a hoarse whisper. Her mind was slowly descending into her body, shutting off her ratio and letting her lower instincts and needs take over. It's been too damn long since she let herself feel this way... She didn't consciously fight his hold anymore, letting him take the lead, but her thighs increased the pressure on his body on their own.

He let go of the shirt, the garment falling back on him, underneath he continued to tease and pleasure her breasts, both hand slowly massaging the globes of flesh, until he felt the last of the tension ease from her. Her body oscillated with the waves of pleasure coursing through it, her hips bumping into his in the ancient rhythm of need and desire.

She tensed her muscles for a moment, and he was already beneath her, pinned to the ground. She sat on top of him for a moment, hips moving slightly back and forth. She rubbed herself against him, staring down with lids half lifted. Her eyes. The green. It was different. Shiny and clear. Like an emerald. Watching, observing him... every tiny bit of change on his face, as she made him feel the heat of her body. She lifted herself off him. Just enough so she could let her hand trace his body. Over his chest, along his stomach... her fingertips tracing every muscle... further... down...

He laid back, allowing her to explore his body. His hands moved to her back, tracing the shoulder blades as he pulled her down for another, gentle kiss, less urgent this time. Her hands found his throbbing desire and cupped it through his boxers. As they continued to kiss his hand descended along her spine, feeling the curve of her hips, then hooked into her panties to lower the garment.

She let out a gentle sigh and her fingers wrapped around his throbbing flesh, stroking lightly along the length. Her upper body sunk onto his, squeezing her soft breasts between their chests. Breaking the kiss, she to licked down the side of his throat and up again, then wrapped her lips around his earlobe and sucked gently. For a second she wondered, why he even bothered removing her tight rubber pants instead just traditionally pushing them out of the way...

His hands cupped the mounds of her rear, lifting her slightly, then traced the inside of her thighs until his hand dipped into her core. His fingers were clumsy with strength, but soon enough found a good rhythm, alternatively thrumming the sensitive nub and dipping his fingers into the snatch. While Sandy writhed in the pleasure, he laid a trail of kisses down her abdomen, lingering at her navel, his playful licks, making her giggle between little moans of excitement... then, as went lower, at last it was obvious why the panties had to go. Raising her leg into the air, he turned them over, so he could lay his head into her lap while his hand kept teasing her flower.

The feel of his breath, now blowing through her cunt sent shivers through her core. She was starting to grow inpatient, her heat turning into a burning flame of desire and pure need. Her hands reached out for his head, her fingers wrapping around his skull, pushing his face between her thighs, into her wet, slick center.

He swatted the hand away, but he finally dipped into her cleave. He gave it a long lick and gently suck on the straining clit. She arched her back above him to push her hips tighter against his mouth. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the pleasure... Which didn't come...? Looking down, she saw him looking at her. As she watched he went back to nibbling on the sensitive nub of flesh, watching her the entire time... she couldn't help but close her eyes as the pleasure assaulted her... then stopped... again...

Staring with exasperation, it finally dawned on her that he wanted her to watch. Straining, her neck stiff, she watched his ministrations, this voyeuristic awareness of what's happening to her body turning her on beyond act itself. With the roles established, he pulled her folds apart to further expose her nub, then gently started to suck on it, his tongue dipping in and twirling every once in a while. He slipped another finger into her passage and made little circles on the top of her vagina looking for a hardening patch to drive her desire into overdrive.

Her eyes didn't cloud in pleasure, as he may have seen it with other women. But they didn't seem like the typical cybergear either. They were changing with her rising pleasure, becoming more and more clear... It only took a glance to know exactly how close she was... It began to build in her lower belly, her body starting to tremble, her thigh-muscles twitching. She was using what little restraint she could muster, not to wrap her legs around his head and crush his skull.

Increasing the suction and rubbing the patch harder, he continued the assault of her sex. With gentle finger, he peeled back the skin covering the clit and licked it directly... Her head lolled back, straining muscles arching her back into a curve, lips open, whole body tensed and for a very long moment even her breathing stopped. Then she exploded, her juices flowing over as she screamed out in pleasure.

Leaving her straining nub alone, he licked the folds of her cleft, slowly pumping his fingers in and out, caressing her ass and thighs to ease her down from the peak. When she stopped whimpering, he slid closer and wrapped her in an embrace, cradling her head in the crook of his shoulder.

When she came to, she wrapped her arm around his chest and her legs around his waist, though not as rough as before. He quickly realized why, as her free hand slid down his body and freed his cock, the organ pulsing and throbbing, signaling the obvious need for someone's attention. She pulled him close, his ribcage straining under her strength still clumsy with her orgasm. Her hips shifted underneath him, then pulled him home, legs securely locking around him. He caressed her back, thighs, the globes of her ass and laid back to enjoy the ride.

She was about to ride him alright... but not for her pleasure. Her body language was foreign, different then before, the fire animating the body on a low simmer, like a puppet-master struggling with the ropes of an unfamiliar marionette. As she opened her eyes, he could see the same change. They were clouded now. Distant. Calculated. Her grip around him tightened. Worried, he cupped her face and asked - "Hey... still a little out of it?" - only then did he notice the tug at the back of his mind. The same tug he had felt earlier, the tug that had made him down that scotch, the tug that made his hand shake as if his move-by-wire system was acting up. The feeling was odd and foreign. It was wrapping around his mind, he could feel something probing and spreading into his net. And then the pleasure literally exploded within his body...

As the solo's consciousness collapsed, something else woke. Like finally having the dorm room to oneself, not-having to dodge the elbow of a noisy roommate, the consciousness stretched, enjoyed the newfound spaciousness of its confines... Except it wasn't alone. Like a guest standing by the door, the entity in girl waited for its kin to notice its presence.

Maybe seconds, maybe minutes later Sandman's body twitched beneath his, her muscles tensed up - Yes, that was the sound of one of his ribs cracking. She whimpered aloud, eyes going wide... and then she just went limp. Her arms fell away from him as she breathed heavily, staring up at him. - "Wh... what just happened?"

"You... Hey... that... that wasn't *you*." - She blinked at him, confused. - "This is gonna be confusing ...what sorta wet- or hardware do you have between you ears?" - he asked, once forming coherent words was in his grasp. - "Well, the better question is, what I *don't* have between my ears" - was her answer.

The silence stretched for a couple of moments, then the hit-man chuckled and exclaimed in a shaky voice. - "I have a nagging feeling, that you're not the only tenant of Motel Sandy... just like Hostel Dussack." - She narrowed her eyes at him. - "I have been called crazy quite often, but I have the strange feeling that you're talking about something else..." - she replied.

""What I have here.." - he tapped his head for emphasis - "is pretty unusual... do you recall what body-shops were like twelve years ago?" - he inquired. - "You should know how long I am in the business, Kovacs..." - Her face paled as she realized that she just called him by his real name. And that there was no fucking way she could've known it. "You're not mental... or psychic," - he chided. - "Trust me, I know, I've said the same shit time after time when I started to notice all the weird stuff."

"But... I don't... there isn't... get off me, will ya! I can't think like this..." - she exclaimed, as they were still joined at the hip. Her shifting only drew his attention to the arousal he'd been ignoring in his surprise. Instinct was urging him, to seek his release as the earlier, mental bliss did nothing relieve the physiological need of his body. With a dejected groan, he slipped out her and started talking once more to keep his mind off the distraction. "Twelve years ago there was not a body-shop in the entire world that could do what you can buy on every corner... - he reminisced. - There was no way to fix something like this." - he lowered his head, so she could see the thick scars running parallel to his spine and a jagged, horizontal scar that seemed to go right though his neck.

"You got one of the first autogene know-bots... the stupid kind of AI." - was her remark. "Yeah... except it's not so stupid anymore. - he retorted. - "See, its maker made an iny-tiny tweak to the code." - he explained. "Is it sentient?" - was her question in turn. "No idea. It's getting there... - he admitted. - Unlike 99% of all other software, it can use gray matter to run shit - he went on. It treats the brain as an unprogrammed Turing machine and tries to "teach it"... plasticity takes care of the rest. - He shrugged as if to imply this was beyond him too. - It's not effective, but unlike all the other grow your own AI mojo, it seems to be working".

"So you're saying that I share my cyberjunk and wetware with an AI?" - she asked incredulously. - "I don't know... all I know there's *something*... or *someone*, in there. I know because you act like I did a couple of years ago." - Another shrug, she was starting to notice, he preferred gestures to express his uncertainty. - "You started reading people' minds? Oh, yeah ... it's true what they say about dwarfs..." - was her sarcastic reply. - "No, I started to hear and see thoughts that were not my own... - he retorted. - "...and you didn't read my mind, it seems your Persona popped into my system to say hello to Saul."

"Well, I know your name and that you're a dwarf... something I didn't know half an hour ago" - she exclaimed contrarily. - "By comparison does the name Tanaka ring any bells?" - was his carefully worded reply. Her eyes flickered for a moment and she glared at him. - "Oh great. Should we get married now?" - It was obvious, the prospect of having her own secrets laid bare was unpleasant to her. - "In case you ask... no. I don't know shit. It's all subliminal, like some hunch, or a dream of a dream, navel gazing shit like that" - was his attempt to alley her fears.

"I don't like this. I almost killed you, without wanting to" - she pleaded. - [/color]"I have no idea how it started, when it started... nor do I know how I stopped it a few minutes ago"[/color] - she explained with obvious exasperation. "Seems like you two don't mesh anywhere near as smoothly as me and Saul do." - he remarked. - "It seems to me, like we mesh too smoothly. So smoothly, that I didn't notice it until now" - was her retort.

"But right now, I really want to take a shower and sleep for a few hours" - she went on as she stood and offered a hand to the dwarf. "Yeah, shower and sleep sounds good" - he replied. Grabbing to proffered arm, bumped into her as he stood up. Looking down, she saw his member is poking her in the side. - "Err... since we stopped before..." - trailing off he scratches his neck in embarrassment. "Yepp, absolutely true what they say about dwarfs" - she teased. - "What they say? I didn't even know I was one 'til I hit puberty and afterwards I was *very* busy pretending not being one... - was his defensive reply. - Da' even made me take pills to grow taller" - he babbled. His private parts were still standing at attention. - "They say that you guys are very well equipped" - she quipped grinned even wider. - "I wouldn't know" - he replied.

Looking at her with renewed interest he reached out to stroke her stomach and the curve of her hips. - "You know that shower doesn't have to be that quick or short" - he proposed. She grabbed a towel and turned away giggling. "You do forget that we have a bunch of kids out there who we have to get ready within three... oh well ... now only two days" - she restored playfully. She grabbed him by the hand and started pulling him after herself into the shower room around the corner. She looked at him over her shoulder and smiled at him. A full, honest and gentle smile. Something he knew - now - she hardly ever showed someone in her life.

---

Their second time was after their second fight... Maybe we'd better just fuck first and argue later, he thought later on... it'd have spare them the repair and hospital bills.

Sandman closed the glass door of the bedroom behind her, stepping quickly up to Dussack and pressing her lips on his, starting to push him towards the large bed – but he shook his head as he stumbled backwards.

"Wait, gotta tell the rat that he's on watch," he exclaimed. The last time they indulged themselves the whole ops had fallen apart...

She licked down his throat, obviously not really caring about the job: "Uh-hm, you do that... and I... I will..." she licked down his throat, as her hands ripped his shirt open, placing small kisses down his chest. Her fingers slid down his stomach to his belt, starting to unbuckle it.

Thank gawd for autocorrect, he thought to himself as he sent out a text message to Rudy, hoping he didn't mangle anything into something he'll regret later...

Now he was too distracted by her fingers on his belt. His hand tangled in the red mane of the female solo, stroking her like a cat as she unbuttoned his pants and started pulling them down, her lips and tongue already moving down his belly. Licking, kissing and teasing him, as she pressed her chest against his throbbing errection...

He let out a deep sigh as he felt her bare skin, still slightly wet from the water in the tub brush against his own. Finally her fingers wrapped around his pulsing length, giving it a gentle squeeze. She lowered her head and he could feel her tongue flicking lightly against the tip, just tasting, teasing him.

He groaned out, not able to form words as he was starting to get lost in passion. She let the swollen head of his cock slide into her hot, wet mouth. Her tongue circled and rubbed against it while her fingers ran up and down his whole length.

Dussack couldn't help but buck his hips at the sensation. She moved with his hips, not letting him push deeper into her mouth. Not yet. His breathing was rapid and shallow. It took all his willpower not to just push her head down on his hardness. Instead, he moved his hand from her hair to the bed-sheet, gripping it, letting her work him as she pleased.

She started sucking slowly, letting her fingers wrap around his shaft, squeezing down once more before her hand slipped from his hard cock to his balls, cupping them gently. Then suddenly she pushed her head down, his shaft sliding along her tongue as she took she took him deep into her mouth.

His breath caught in his throat, more blood surging from his head into his loins, his shaft hardening even further as her lips stretched around it.

She waited a few moments, letting him enjoy the hot wetness of her tongue and mouth, then she started moving. Slowly at first, her tongue wiggling along the underside, sucking lightly every time she pulled back, building a slight under-pressure. She was taking him deeper and deeper every time she pushed down. Her breathing grew steady and deep as it adjusted to her movements. He could feel her hot breath against his lower belly. He tried to roll his hips, to urge her on, but she pushed him down with one hand, her solid grip keeping him from any movement of his own. His member pulsed with every heartbeat, straining against the wet hold of her mouth.

She let out a low groan, voice vibrating against the tip of his cock as she tasted the first salty drops of precum on her tongue. She grew greedy, moaning barely audibly with every move, her hand reaching down between her own thighs, testing her wetness.

The male solo's thighs started to twitch, his muscles tensing as the pressure grew within his body, edging ever closer to his release. Feeling him grow harder in her mouth, she doubled her efforts, urging him on, taking him still deeper with every move... sucking harder.

"Gonna... gonna..." he blurted out through gritted teeth, himself not sure what he was going to do, but she understood and picked up the pace, melting away his reason along with his restraint. His hips bucked against the iron grip of her hand, toes curled, breathing ragged as his climax inevitably took him over the edge.

She simply thrust her head down, in one swift hard move, letting him slide into her throat and starting to swallow.

He emptied himself into her throat as she swallowed... every... single... drop.

For a while she kept on sucking gently, then let herself drop back onto the floor, licking her lips while he was still gasping for air.

She grinned widely: "You're welcome."

He narrowed his eyes at her: "Oh, you!"

Instead further verbal sparring, he jumped her, his lips seeking hers. She smiled into the kiss, letting him taste his own cum as she rubbed her tongue against his. It was bitter and tasted like the tobacco he smoked. He made a face, apparently not being one of those ascribing greater pleasure to the taste of his own seed, but he didn’t pull away either.

He broke the seal of their lips and laid a trail of kisses down her jawbone while his hand cupped her breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. She arched her back, moaning out, her body already on overdrive from the stimulus before.

He moved his lips lower, down her throat, to her nipple, taking it into his mouth and sucking greedily before letting it pop out to give the other nub a similar treatment. His hand went south, seeking her hotness, sliding his fingers between her folds, thrumming on her hidden hardness in little circles.

She reacted violently, body tensing up, his touch sending jolts of hot arousal up her spine. She spread her legs more, opening herself up to him, as she clawed into the carpet...

She was soaking wet, so he decided not to waste any more time and dove down between her thighs, his tongue joining his fingers as he spread her open to coax out more of her lewdness.

He hummed against her mound, the vibrations enhancing her arousal, his tongue probing deep in her canal as his fingers kept playing with her nub. Laying it bare, he gave the straining button a lick, swirling his tongue around it and then took it into his mouth, sucking gently while his fingers slid into her core.

She bucked beneath him, hips pushing up to meet his fingers, making them slide deeper inside her. Picking up the pace, he increased the suction, his tongue alternating between twirling and striking her clit while his fingers probed the slippery depths of her slit, rubbing the top of her walls.

Her body was rapidly tensing up, but she was still fighting it. Suddenly she wrapped her fingers around his head and pulled him up to her, looking at him with poison green eyes. The need was clearly written in them: "F ... fuck me ... i ... nnnneed ... oh gawd …" the rest was cut off by a deep groan, as he pressed his thumb against her clit, while he simply guided her hand to his member. Her mind went fuzzy as she felt him in her hand, her fingers working instinctively, making him grow hard again.

He nuzzled her neck, whispering into her ear: "How do you want it?" She just rolled onto her belly in answer, lifting her hips and reaching around with both hands, spreading herself for him.

It was a clear invitation, no words needed.

He mounted her, reaching for her hips and slowly pushed into her dripping cunt. Letting her savior his girth inch by inch, he pressed slowly, until he was buried balls deep within her. She groaned in delight, pushing herself back onto him, making him push against the one sweet spot that indicated that he reached the very bottom of her depth.

He gripped her hips harder, securing his hold and started slowly pumping in and out of her. In and out, each time making sure to bottom out and press against the entrance to her womb. She was getting louder with each thrust, mind shutting down as the sensations in her body took over. Her muscles were tensing up, making her insanely tight.

He pressed down on her back, making her ass stick up as he started to pound into her, alternating between rapid short strokes and deep pummels that rocked her entire body, making her breasts and nipples rub across the carpet.

He spread the cheeks of her ass and gently probed her other hole while he kept plunging into her, testing how she liked the additional stimulus. By the way she groaned out in pleasure, she seemed to like it.

Then something happened... something reached for him in the back of his mind. Unlike last time, it seemed to be careful, almost gentle, as it wrapped itself around the fibers of his neural net.

A moment later he could feel the red-heads arousal being fed into his conscious, mingling with his own. He could feel her feelings as if they shared a single body. An incoherent growl escaped her lips and a shudder went down her body indicating that she was feeling the same.

He slowed down a bit, adjusting to the new sensation. He didn’t think, he didn’t wonder – at this point, he wasn’t really able to – but his movements changed as he started mapping out her responses, trying to find the spots that felt best. After a short while he found a pattern that seemed to hit most of her spots, so he once again picked up the pace. Bending forward he let his weight press her further into the floor, his chest pressing against her back.

She was loosing it completely, trying to push herself back onto him, meeting his thrusts as she lifted her hips more, making him slide even deeper. He could feel the urgent pressure growing within her lower belly, approaching her peak and washing through their bodies, dragging him merciless with her.

His thrusts became rapid and furious as he started going all out, slamming into her from behind with resounding force. It took her only a few seconds and then her body went berserk. Twitching and bucking beneath him, she screamed in ecstasy. Her pussy milked him violently as the waves of her orgasm trashed through her over and over again.

He buried himself into her to the hilt, pushing past her cervix and starting to pump into her, filling her up with his seed.

Their minds mingled and merged for a moment, enforced by the digital connection. They were one. One body. One mind.

It seemed to last forever.

And then he felt the connection break violently, as the female solo fainted beneath him. He groaned out in pain and just collapsed on top of her, the world fading away as darkness wrapped around him.

...or could just check the 18+ Restriced section of Anidb (requires registration to browse adult content).

As Sandy is moving away, Dussack shoves his chair back violently, the heavy furniture almost falling over.

"We better have some rest. Now if you'll excuse me, I believe I need to chip into a red-headed cyberpunk."

He storms off toward the master bathroom, throwing his suit's jacket on the living room sofa. A moment later pair of pants come flying through the doorway into the bathroom foyer. Next you hear the door slam and you can only hear the water thrumming through the pipes.

Not noticing (that's some powerful mojo!) the Doctor slipping out Dussack continues the planning. N & Traitor fill up the first 6 hour shift of the Security column. Charon is already in the next.

"It seems a lot of you don't get what I meant by standard gear. No-one expects you to be proficient with a firearm and act as a gunman. No. What I expect from you is being able to lay down suppressive fire and keep pulling the trigger. It's the volume of fire that makes fire-teams so effective, hence why I insist that anyone who can carry one, does so. That goes for the Witch and Ruddy too and ...damn! Where did the Doc go? I'll have to ask her how the fuck she pulled that off."

...while he redresses the gun-phobic members of the team the Matrix row gets a new item, "planing" and has Ruddy assigned to it...then a new column called Cyber shows up.

Turning to Traitor he adds this:
"Keep whatever mods they request as accessories, I wan the guns themselves to be pretty much interchangeable. That should keep field repair easier too... and get carbines in the same caliber for N and Ruddy as they'll spend most of their time in vehicles or indoors. You can hold a carbine, right?" - he asks Ruddy. Before the dwarf can answer, he goes on to the next item on the schedule - Training.

"Training's going to be bitch, what with people constantly on Security detail... Bah! There's no way around it, once everyone has had their turn at weapon familiarization, we'll have to have Madame Leblanc join us for the final team-maneuver exercises. Most Runners make for piss-poor bodyguards... this won't change much, but I want at least the basics of covering and extracting our VIP drilled into the lot of you."

...a bunch of 4 hour shifts of "WP familiarization" show up, 3 sessions for the second day, the third day has a single session, marked "Make Up" scheduled and an 8 hour shift for "Team Drill".

"Since we're gonna need a whole bunch of talents & skills for the job, other than me, who has skill-wires here?"

"Damn. OK, people we're on a tight schedule, so instead playing twenty questions I'll just outline what seems like sensible arrangement to me and you chip in, if I missed something or assumed wrong."

Patching into the suite's tri-dee system, Dussack brings up a scheduling and management software to outline the various tasks and responsibilities.

"We will need weapons, armor, gear... I'll leave that up to Sandy and wonder-boy... err, Traitor here. When you thought no one was looking I've seen you play with that gun as if it was your girlfriend... at least we know you're a certified gun nut."

Three items show up on the itinerary: planning & ordering for today, delivery and maintenance for tomorrow, packing & final check for the day after.

"I'm sure a lot of you are thinking about going mad and finally getting that dream gun you always wanted... don't. At least not until Sandy has picked out our standard gear. Everyone will carry the same longarm to keep our supply & ordnance straight. Ditto for body-armor. Sidearms and fall-back weapons are up to you."

...turning to Sandy he goes on:

"I'd appreciate if you shopped with the fact that it's going to be Africa in mind. If you take my advice, stick with AKs for main arms, AKMs as support weapons maybe an RPGs if you can hunt them down in time. I know they leave a lot to be desired, but these arms have plenty of ammunition and parts for sale on site and we won't get ambushed just because our toys seem flashier then what the local gangsters tote."

More columns pop up on the tri-dee, the next one marked training. Next to it are four more called Intel, Security, Matrix and Magic.

"That leaves training from the weapon related tasks. I'd like everyone to have tried out whatever arms Sandy decides on and maybe some team maneuvers if we can squeeze in the time. I don't expect wonders, but at the end of the course hopefully you'll at least point the business end of your weapon at the bad guys. Does anyone have experience as a weapons or better yet tactics instructor?"

I'm telling you for the 2nd time: those experiments have nothing to do with repairing neural damage. Please do some better research.

Savoring more of the malt's flavor this time, Dussack retrieves his cigars, offering them to the dryad while he sips the whiskey. A couple of gulps later, having collected his thoughts he remarks:

"That's a rather good application of reverse psychology doctor... though it's wasted in my case." - he nurses the drink some more... yes, this is something exquisite... lighting the Doctor's Havanna with a gas lighter, he goes on.

"Sometimes people really mean what they say. I've said my piece, and said so for my own reasons. What the rest do? That's not my problem."

The intermissions having played out, Dussack leans back against the counter and goes on:

"As the rigger demonstrated, it's not like we really have a choice." - fishing in his coat, he retrieves his cigs and lights one, inhaling deeply and savoring the smoke while the Runners digest his words.

Blowing smoke, he goes on - "Had you been less amenable, you'd have felt the touch of iron, below madam Leblanc's gloves...".

Stepping away from the kitchen, smoke curling around as he walks to the Johnson with deliberate slowness, he addresses his final words directly to the woman.

"I'm sure you'd have preferred to carry on this game of carrot and stick, but since you've already amply demonstrated your grip, I'd rather have it straight."

Seizing her up... with the smoke curling you're not sure... as an opponent? As a girl to pick up? As meat for slaughter? ...he finally lets you see genuine emotion: A wolfish smile. This man might not be the strongest, smartest or sophisticated... blood-lust though, that he has in spades.

"What guarantees can you provide for your promises? What is there to say, we will be alive to collect it, when all is said and all is done?"

"The only thing Runners can offers Johnsons that Corps don't have in their pockets aplenty, is deniability... on a successful run, that is.

Here you are, taking an ever firmer approach, filling our heads with delicious morsels of information... about who you are, who your employers might really be... all ripe for plucking, by interrogators, should we by happenstance or design fall into enemy hands."

Similar topics have been merged.
Apologies for any inconvenience.

Call Mac tech support. If you bought that overpriced equipment then make then work for your dollars.

If instead you want *us* to help, then you'll have to be more elaborate: what your router's model is, how it's configured, how you configured your Mac Book and your I-Mac.

Just NO. Wrong. DEAD wrong... next time, please do at least a Wikipedia search before you post stuff.

Denmark, Norway... and the overwhelming majority of the Western World has a lot more wealth-fare institutions, more benefits for those eligible and wider coverage than in the USA. These tend to supported by on average markedly higher taxes. Not just income, but payroll tax, tariffs and so on.

However Europe's economy is still capitalist, that is the means of production are privately owned, private property is not only allowed but protected by laws and the state apparatus and corporations can be formed to facilitate enterprise.

What has markedly changed in the last 20 years was the triumph of Reaganomics and the conscious dismantling of government oversight that used to regulate private corporations. It was argued that the corporations can police and regulate themselves, that the market knows best and any government interference is harmful...

...of course in reality we've just (re-)learned that corporations as sociopathic, that as long as they can break the law and make a greater profit than the fines they will do so, that they really can't be trusted to act on our behalf.

One would think that stuff that was already known in 1930 won't be forgotten that easily, but neo-liberal economists have taken over policy wholesale... and not just in the USA, but the whole developed world. Thanks to their dominance people took their "truisms" as given... when they have been proven not only false but harmful time and time again.

[color=green]"Under usual circumstances, I would say, the pleasure is mine madam... unfortunately you've employed methods very much unusual to “hire” me. As for the arrangements" - [/color] Dussack spreads his hands as if to encompass the whole penthouse - [color=green]"a gilded cage is a cage never the less, while security not at one's beck and call is but a single order away from being one's jailers or hangman."[/color]

I'm sorry to say something that might hurt you, but it's better to say the truth than let one be deluded by false hopes. Those experiments were very rudimentary, and if you check the documentation they usually involved cutting off the head and artificially supplying them with blood and artificially oxygenating the blood in turn... we can do both these for decades now. They didn't even open the skull of the animals, something we frequently do today, but do so with trepidation. Opening the skull is still a risky procedure, so much so that neurosurgery seems to be moving toward gamma-knife surgery, that uses very focused gamma rays to precisely burn away tumors and only the tumors in the brain as this circumvents the whole need to disturb the brain matter et all.

Regrowing or "mending" neural tissue? Not possible currently, but stem cell research is very promising. We can sew back limbs that have been cut off, and the nerves there still have some plasticity, so they can "fix themselves" (the wonders of nature)... unfortunately this doesn't extend to the brain or the spinal cord. In rare cases, when the spine wasn't completely severed there were cases of patients recovering. Hopefully one day - and one day soon - we'll be able to trigger this change at will and cure paralysis.