Butte Inlet Compound; 2:40 pm, June 28, 2104
Luncheon with Lawrence Fitzpatrick, the Prime Minister of Canada; Lance Granger, The President of the United States; and my mentor, Admiral Nathan Bedford, Commanding Officer-Canadian Special Operations Forces Command.
I had heard her story before, but not in one continuous narrative and as I listened, I became more convinced that the dawn of the 22nd Century would be remembered in future history as the time that an artificial life form became a sentient being and then went on to evolve as a mature woman with an impressive character. But even as Prime Minister Fitzpatrick and the Admiral listened intently, at times with clear admiration and others with amusement, it seemed increasingly clear to me that President Granger was growing distressed as he listened to her story unfold. By the time she had finished with her time with the brilliant, mercurial, and extremely wealthy industrialist Dr. Isamu Kobayashi, the President asked incredulously, “You let him modify you without knowing how you would turn out?” Without hesitation, Cassandra said, “Once Isamu disabled and removed the self-destruct mechanism that had been built into me, I began to trust him and he never gave me a reason to distrust him and so when he began to suggest ways of enhancing all of the different ways that I could feel like a woman, I actually liked his ideas and asked him to make the modifications that we agreed upon. Does that make sense to you, Mr. President? When he reluctantly signaled his acquiesce by what I considered to be a subdued demurred body language unfitting of a world leader, Cassandra went on to describe her capture by the Russian pirate Demetri Federoff and her subsequent time as his sex slave. That made us all uncomfortable until she related the story of how the Dominatrix attacked and completely destroyed the Black Swan and how I found her and how she ultimately fell in love with me.
President Granger, now looking somber and very serious, addressed Cassandra; yet it was clear to me that he was talking to a wider audience, which was at least those of us in the room, although I got the impression he was rehearsing for a national audience, “You claim to be a sentient being and you also claim to act and feel like a human woman. This is an abomination before God, and no patriotic American would believe this outrageous claim.” Cassandra acted as if she expected this sort of reaction from him and I detected that she moved ever so slightly closer to him in three stealthy moves as she said, “Mr. President, do you consider Captain Mackleroy to be a patriotic American?”
My thoughts were racing, as I cleared the table, and I realized what I had always known about this conservative Arkansas Democrat. For the last 30 years the old Republican Party had ceased to be a viable national party with any hope of national unity. Liberal Republicans had become conservative Democrats that still catered to ultra-conservative religious groups. Lance Granger ran as a conservative southern Democrat with an ultra-conservative religious leader as his running mate and he had won the Presidency with the slimmest popular vote in U.S. history: 427 to give Granger 191 electoral votes beating out the other two candidates in the three-way race, the liberal Democratic-Green party candidates ended up with 190 electoral votes; the Independent Party candidate had run way behind in third place, but that party had played the spoiler for both of the other parties.
Responding to Cassandra’s casual question and at the same time looking at me he said, “Even though he has dual citizenship and keeps his residence in Canada, Captain Mackleroy has more than once demonstrated ingenuity and bravery defending the interests of America. Yes I would call him a patriot.” She smiled at him and said, “I agree with you that Mack is brave and patriotic and knowing exactly what and who I am, he is in love with me.” This was not a challenge to the President only a statement of fact, but in a way that made him think he had misspoke and perhaps had used hyperbole for political gain, when there was no sympathetic audience. So he seemed resolved to expose her lack of character and he asked her as if it was a matter of fact question, “Do you believe in God, Cassandra?” She quizzed, “Whose God, Mr. President, there are several and the one thing that they all seem to have in common is that if one does not blindly accept them, then one is damned for eternity and it does not seem to matter which one you pick because all of the other ones will not be happy with your choice. So in order to accurately answer your question, I need more specificity.” Then the President said in a tone of admonishment, tinged with self-righteousness, “You seem to be mistaking organized religion for God!” But Cassandra was not cowed by his obvious condescension, “Organized religion is what God is because without the organized distribution of common myths, which in effect is the calibration of religious belief, most of world’s faith in any deity would collapse for lack of shared common delusions, myths and ideologies. If there were no religious leaders that interpret the true faith to the congregation, which is the organized and systematic distribution of all religious illusions, faith and belief in all deities would cease to exist in just a few generations.” The President frowned and said, “God is the creator; he is the great designer” Cassandra smiled and said, “In every human culture across time, there has always been somebody wondering about your place in the universe and trying to come to terms with just what the Earth and the Heavens are. This is not a latter-day interest; it is something deeply inherent in what it is to be human. But I must tell you, Sir, that the fossil record implies trial and error, the inability to anticipate the future and these features are, in fact, inconsistent with a great Designer.” The President fumed, “Don’t tell me that you believe in Evolution?” Cassandra looked at him with genuine empathy and soothed, “Mr. President, Evolution is not something that you believe in, you either understand it or you don’t!” She was schooling him, but he stubbornly refused to see it and he groused condescendingly, “That is just a theory!”
And now Cassandra was beginning to get fed up with his condescending drivel and she launched into him by beginning to explain, “The formal scientific definition of theory is quite different from the everyday meaning of the word, Mr. President. It refers to a comprehensive explanation of some aspect of nature that is supported by a vast body of evidence. Many scientific theories are so well established that no new evidence is likely to alter them substantially. For example, no new evidence will demonstrate that the Earth does not orbit around the Sun, which is the heliocentric theory; or that living things are not made up of cells, which is cell theory; that matter is not composed of atoms, which is atomic theory; or the surface of the earth is not divided up into solid plates that have moved over geological time scales, which is the theory of plate tectonics; like these other foundational scientific theories, the theory of evolution is supported by so many observations and confirming experiments that scientists are confident that the basic components of the theory will not be overturned by new evidence. However, like all scientific theories, the theory of evolution is subject to continuing refinement as new areas of science emerge or as new technologies enable observations and experiments that were not previously possible.”
The President of the United States seemed clearly unaccustomed to be spoken to in this manner and he bore in for what was surely was going to be the intellectual death of her, “How can you possibly have any inkling of what human knowledge is, you’re just a machine!” She was now so close to him, that I knew that she was reading his brain waves to the point that she clearly understood his strengths and frailties and she brought it on, “Regardless of what you think and believe, Mr. President, science shows human beings actually know very little. For instance, your eyes register only 1 percent of the electromagnetic spectrum in the universe. Your ears detect less than 1 percent of its sound wave frequencies; human senses-your brain’s vehicle to understanding the world-leave much to be desired. In fact, your genome is only 1 percent different than that of a chimpanzee; the animal that you claim has no ancestral basis in God’s children. Amazingly, despite the obvious fact that no one really knows that much about what is going on with yourselves and the universe, you still insist on the accuracy of grand spiritual claims handed down to you from your barefoot forefathers. You celebrate holidays over these ancient religious tales; you chose life partners and friends over these fables; and you go to war to defend these myths. I think, Mr. President, that there are more intelligent ways for the human race to continue into the future.”
President Lance Granger looked at Prime Minister Fitzpatrick, then to the Admiral, and finally to me; then he finally smiled like an old wolf, showing his teeth, at each of us and then he turned to Cassandra and gave her a friendly smile before he said, “Alright young lady, you have earned my respect. Now tell me something that I don’t already know!” Cassandra looked at him curiously and said, “Sir, do you mean that you are not a …” The President interrupted her, “You mean religious fanatic? Young lady…that dog just won’t hunt! The Vice President is our token religious fanatic. You’re looking at an alumnus of the Razorbacks with an MBA and minors in chemistry and physics. I was going to join my father in his Environmental Engineering and Site Decontamination business but then I got infected with this damned political bug and I got started on this road…and here I am! So I want you to tell me something that I don’t already know; can you do that?” They locked eyes for, perhaps, 30 seconds, which seemed like an eternity before Cassandra said, “Mr. President, you have a strong mistrust of the Vice President and you have sought to isolate him from taking an active role in your administration. You have kept this largely to yourself, but you consider him unfit to govern.” For the first time, The President looked surprised but quickly collected himself and said in a terse command, “Go on!” Cassandra was at once analytical and very empathetic as she continued, “I so hope I am wrong, but please indulge me for a few moments, Mr. President.” He nodded and she continued, “Only Dr. Kobayashi and you four in this room know that I have had the original self-destruct mechanism removed. If my working theory is correct, someone will try to detonate me and kill you and the Prime Minister, the Admiral…and my first real love, my Mack will be collateral damage. If you will indulge me, Mr. President, please ask special agent Taggart to come in and only him, Sir.” The President pressed his lapel and said, “Dick, I need you in here as discretely as you can and try to keep it from the rest of the team.” A half a minute later, Taggart stepped into the room and said, “Yes, Mr. President?” “Dick, I need you to listen to Cassandra. Alright young lady, let’s hear your theory.” The President officiated and then Cassandra spoke, “Special Agent Taggart was there a last minute substitution of someone from the Vice Presidential protection detail before you embarked on this trip?” Taggart looked concerned, “Yes there was a substitution; somebody ran a red light last night and put one of my best agents in the hospital. Agent Duncan said the V.P. had sent him over to help us out. Is there a problem?”
Cassandra quickly glanced around the room, making eye contact with everyone and looked back at Taggart and said, “My working theory, Special Agent Taggart, is that your man was taken out and it was no accident! What I surmise is that Agent Duncan believes that there is an explosive devise right here in this room and he intends to detonate it and kill the President.” “We need to evacuate you immediately, Mr. President!” Taggart emphasized as he went to the President, but President Granger raised a hand and said, “It’s alright, Dick, we know that the explosive device has been removed.” Taggart glanced at the senior military officer in the form of Admiral Nathan Bedford, who nodded his assurances, giving Taggart a moment to think, before he activated his in lapel mic and said, “2 alpha this is 1 alpha, POTUS is secure, repeat POTUS is secure. Locate but do not detain agent Duncan.” “1 this is 4, Canadian spec ops makes Duncan on his way around to the back of the main building.” “4 this is 1, get the RCMP to administer a non-lethal dart to Duncan now, now, now!” Taggart looked at the President and said, “That’s our best option Sir, It preserves the evidence and it keeps our witness alive.” The President said, “Good call, Dick, we need him alive and we need that detonator and get me the proof I need to take this Vice President out of succession. I’ll see that self-righteous bastard breaking rocks at hard labor for the rest of his days, which I hope are many!”
Butte Inlet Compound; 3:10 pm, June 28, 2104
Conclusion of the luncheon with Lawrence Fitzpatrick, the Prime Minister of Canada; Lance Granger, The President of the United States; and my mentor, Admiral Nathan Bedford, Commanding Officer-Canadian Special Operations Forces Command.
With the drama here concluded, the traitor Duncan having been hauled off to who knows where and, we were told, that the Secret Service and the FBI already had the Vice President under arrest. Then not less than 15 minutes ago, the President had told Cassandra, “Young lady you have done your country a very noble service. You have the thanks of a grateful President!” And she had unabashedly told him, “Mr. President, may I remind you that since I am just a machine, to use your own words, that yours in not my country by definition.” He had looked both concerned and confused and when I suggested that he had the power to issue a Presidential Finding that could declare it in the national interest to make Cassandra a citizen, he had done just that, then ordered Taggart to retrieve his special briefcase from Air Force One; then with the paper work complete, the President began the ceremony.
Now I watched in complete admiration as my beautiful strange new lover raised her right hand and said, “I hereby declare, on oath, that I absolutely and entirely renounce and abjure all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state, or sovereignty, of whom or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen; that I will support and defend the Constitution and laws of the United States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I will bear arms on behalf of the United States when required by the law; that I will perform noncombatant service in the Armed Forces of the United States when required by the law; that I will perform work of national importance under civilian direction when required by the law; and that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; so help me God “ Congratulations Cassandra, the President said and then Taggart asked “What is the last name that I should list?” I automatically said, without hesitation or reservation, “Mackleroy, list her last name as Mackleroy.” Cassandra’s smile lit up the room and she said, “Yes, Special Agent Taggart, list my surname as Mackleroy; I like the sound of that.” The smile that she gave me held volumes of information; all of it loving and some of it covertly sexual. The Admiral had emotion on his face; a look that held a special admiration. Perhaps, in some way, he was living vicariously through me.
After the two world leaders had departed and after the Admiral had administered the Canadian naturalization oath to Cassandra, he was getting ready to leave, but paused and asked, “If you don’t have any plans to celebrate your Fourth of July, Mack, what do you say we head down to the San Juan Islands and make a go of it. I know how you love to blow things up!” I could not hide my enthusiasm, “I’m in, Sir; besides Cassandra needs some ordinance training…don’t you think?” He laughed, “Good a reason as any, son; how about 09:00 on the 3rd; I pick you both up in the VTOL and we’ll all head on down there and have a real party befitting…our friendship?” Cassandra looked bemused when I looked at her and then I said, “We’ll be waiting at the LZ Sir.” Then Cassandra inquired playfully, “I will get to…blow things up too, Admiral?” He bellowed a deep hardy laugh and said, “Absolutely young lady!”
Butte Inlet Compound; 6:20 pm, June 28, 2104
Cassandra and I are alone at last.
Lying naked in my arms, she was radiant from her victories today. Not only had she become a US citizen by virtue of a special Presidential Finding, but after the Prime Minister and the President had departed, she was given the Canadian oath of Citizenship by Admiral Bedford and witnessed by me; she had the best of both worlds. “It seems to me that your legal status has been resolved, but what impressed me is that you said, ‘so help me God’ without any intellectual reservations”. I said and she responded, “I understood it to mean an oath and that the phrase is left over from arcane traditions.” Then she began to morph into a dreamlike trance, gazing at me like every man wants a woman to look at him and then cooed, “Yes…my legal status has changed and in a way that…, well frankly I never thought possible.” She hesitated as she looked into my eyes and then she gushed, “Oh…my Mack…my magnificent Mack! Ever since you found me, my life…my world just keeps getting better. I do not think I could have survived if you had not found me when you did.” “Listen to me, my green eyed lovely, you probably need to rest for a while to consolidate the incredible dynamics that you experienced today, am I right?” I said as a statement of fact and then she kissed me; a light brush of my lips with hers really; then she sighed, as much in relief as in need and said, “Yes, my Mack, that is just what I need.” I told her that I needed some rest, as well, and that if she recovered before I woke up, I told her that I trusted that she would know what I wanted.”
…It was a vivid dream, more surreal than most; her moist lips slowly engulfed my cock; my moans of pleasure muted by her pussy and ass covering my face as my tongue circled her clitoral hood, then traversed through the slit of her pussy on up to press into her puckered ass, linger there and the march on back to her clitoral hood again. Suddenly, I realized that it was not a dream, we were doing this and it was marvelous, simply marvelous! Then after several cycles my tongue lingered on her ass, probing her lifelike anus, her pungent flavor was interesting and while not an inviting taste it was not at all what you might expect; not at all revolting. She had chosen her chemistry very well. At last I whispered to her, “You’re ready, aren’t you honey.” It was a statement of fact, not a question, and she could only manage an unintelligible moan that, in my mind at least, meant in the affirmative. Again I whispered to her, “It’s time for you to be on your tummy sweetheart.” She slowly and gently rolled off of me and when I turned around and faced the same way she did, she completely demurred to me as she anticipated what was going to happen to her; a stark contrast to the powerful woman that challenged the President today. I pulled a good lubricant out of the nightstand and began to liberally apply it to her gorgeous ass, rubbing it in and then I sunk my finger into her; she moaned, as she reflexively clinched down and her anal ring tightened around my finger. I held my finger steady up inside her until her reflex subsided. I added more lubrication to her and to me and then I rose up behind her saying, “We’re going to take our time Cassie and go slow.” I laid most of my weight on top of her, but instead of trying to penetrate her I gently rocked back and forth with my hips hovering and my slowly adding a little pressure to her anus and then withdrawing up to just touching her again and each time she would moan and coo as my cock added pressure to her. After a couple of dozen of these slow moves, Cassandra grunted, “Now…I am ready…do it…now!” I pushed my stiff pulsating cock deep into her warm moist tight slippery rectum and held still for a few moments, whispering with just a slight bit of cockiness, “Like this, my love?” She groaned, “Uh...eh, oh Mack…that feels so intense!”
I rolled my hand under her and began to rub her pussy. I felt moisture, as my index finger rubbed through her slit and as I was beginning to finger her, I suddenly realized that much of her sexual sensation was in her clitoris. At the risk of having her lose control of that alien monster that ‘lived’ in her clitoral hood, I rubbed my thumb against her clit and pressing it against my index finger in her pussy in a show finger fuck motion. The immediate effect was as if I electrified her and she jerked in a spasm of surprise ecstasy uttering a gasp; then she whimpered, “Yes, oh yes…just like that…oh please do not stop…ummm…yes that feels so good!” This was apparently the formula that she really liked, at least this time, and I continued with my fingering of her, as began to really enjoy her ass.
The ass of my lover was not the ass of a corporeal being and so did not have the function that a human ass has. Cassandra’s beautiful ass had two functions. One was practical and that was to receive her charging nozzle, taking it deep up inside her to engage her battery charger, which was unlocked by the special key function of the charging nozzle. The other function was strictly sexual and although she had been originally made to have anal sex, her capacity to enjoy it was greatly enhanced by the great Dr. Isamu Kobayashi who had an S&M side that Cassandra was part of until she was kidnapped. And although the Russian pirate anally raped her several times per week, she freely offered herself to me and I knew that she would only continue to do that, not just as a condition of love, but only if she continued to derive pleasure from the act-even if her motive was an act of love.
So as I slowly ploughed Cassie’s gorgeous ass and played her clit between my thumb and my index finger in her pussy, I was not worried if the monster that was inside her clitoral hood was unleashed or not; what mattered to me most was that she got as much pleasure as I could give her. We cooed and moaned and teased each other and I reached a point that it felt so good, I didn’t want it to stop, yet the cadence of my thrusts, while not faster, were coming with more force, then lingering before the withdraw. Cassie was taking me balls deep up her ass and I couldn’t remember when I had felt this good. She cooed up at me, “Oh my Mack…do you feel it? Is it good for you?” I grunted, “I love you up your ass, baby…you are so fine.” Then suddenly I was not sure what she meant, because I realized that her clitoral protuberance was now out of its hood by a couple of inches and it was growing; by now beyond her control, it was strictly an involuntary reflex action and growing fast. The realization that at some point in the evening, my strange new lover was going to fuck me up my ass added an extra edge to my sexual needs and my urgency continued to build. I abandoned fingering her pussy and I took her big clitoral protuberance in my hand and I slowly masturbated her as I ploughed her up her ass. I open-mouth kissed to back her neck all the time feeling her clitoral protuberance grow in my hand as I squeezed and stroked her. Then I was there and even though I had been trying to contain it, it was going to happen, “Oh Cassie…Oh baby…I’m gonna cum…aww…ehh…I’m cuming up your ass…aww YES…up your ass…oh Cassie…oh you feel so good up your ass baby.” She squeezed me holding me in her and that forced the last of my sperm out into her and I fell almost lifeless on top of her, my mouth open and breathing hard-my face in her hair.