AislingWeaver, Erotica, F/F

:|: CyberBorn :|: #Eletric :|: Module3


: | : CyberBorn : | :

: | :Electric::Module3: | :


cont(Wire:Module2) -> code_switch





sort([X || X < K, X])





Cynum’s don’t learn.  There is no process by which we are taught to perform an action.  We are connection via wave or wire to a node and knowledge is downloaded into our cortices.  Data is never discovered.  It is quite simply etched into our brains by the same method a compuserver records; with tiny little surges of electric pulses.

As Cheyenne slid over my body, sinking against me, I learned for the first time.  She taught me how to skim my fingers with their supersensory neural nets up her spin in 41 different ways, each ellicting a very specific sound.  I discovered by accident the spot behind her ear that tasted



chemical_breakdown() = C7NH16O+2 + NaCl + 129I


tasted salty and sweet and something the scores of novels in my memory banks told me to just call ‘Cheyenne’.

Parts of my mind, organic sections of brain finely wrought with gold lace, folded deeper, recording the sheer bliss of the experience.  It wrapped around my first steps in full sun, twisted into the free fall from a planar scooter, and rippled through an accidental submersion in the isotopic seas of Caza’s Eight Lunar Inferior.

This span of time would be etched into my recall with absolute perfection.  No filtering of data by value-added parsing routines, no scrubbing of personal experience, no removal of pleasure taken to maintain the integrity of unit DVQ1AL7.

“Dee,” Cheyenne moaned.  My fingers slid up her inner thigh and into folds slick and hot.  A wash of heat rippled down my spine,  The liquid coating my fingers called to me.  Thumb and prime finger rubbed together, slid through her moisture.

The unknown sang a siren’s song to the discoverer programmed into my being.  Or, perhaps, I thought as I slid down her body, tasting the curve of her breast, the tightening bud of her nipple, perhaps it was some latent humanity waking again.  My teeth skated over the gentle ridges of her ribs, my lips teased the concavity of her navel, my hands urged her thighs open.

Humans have often mentioned in my presence that they acted purely on instinct.  My understanding of that drive climbed as I inhale Cheyenne’s aroma.  My digital sensory nets still process the coating of her on my fingers.  My stomach tightened and I abruptly craved to taste her.  To learn her flavor with all of the neural nodes of my tongue.  Her fingers twisted into the short tangle of my hair, urging me.  I nuzzled into her, sliding my tongue into that hot, liquid center.  My neural net flared.

At the press of my tongue against the tiny, sensitive button I found hidden in a delicate fold of flesh data flooded my vision.




marker() + V_S = 367 SUT



%% Production Run ~ Aborted

%% Prototypes ~ Destroyed by B.Phillips(Designer)

%% Notes :: Born emancipated.  Impossible to distinguish from population.  Biomaintenance system perfected, transfer to next model::potential for extended cycle life.  Neural net growth rapid and stable; necessitates data load at birth ::



: | : CyberBorn : | :

: | :Electric::Module3: | :




name() = Phase::Module4




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