The three of us managed to calm him down—though the professor and I had to calm Madison’s appetite, as well. Then, wrapped in a bedsheet, she lured him slowly toward the lab as the professor and I held each of his arms. The temptations she used to motivate him—a quick flash of leg, a slow suck of her thumb, a tight hug of the sheet against her backside—it was a wonder we managed to control not only the double, but ourselves.
“It is absolutely imperative that the transistor become operational,” the professor said as we set the double to sleep in the hibernation bath. “Charlie?”
“A couple days,” I said. “It’s close.”
“One day,” the professor barked, but then, uncomfortable with his stern tone, he added “as soon as you can.”
“As for you, Miss Lounds, I cannot stress enough how vital it is to resist any and all temptations.”
“Me?” Madison said. “I didn’t have much say in the matter!”
“Orgasms can have wild effects on the brain waves of these clones, to say nothing of the ethical implications.”
“Did you see me rip my own clothes off, Charlie?”
“Well you raise a good point, Miss Lounds, and I’m sorry, but until the transistor is up and running I must insist that you sleep in my room.”
Madison laughed.
“With all due respect, sir,” I said, “I’m not sure that you’d be much protection. It might be better if Miss Lounds bunks with me.”
“Are you the one with a doctorate in biochemical cybertronics? Neoconscious psychology?”
“We’ve shared a bed before, I just think she might be more comfortable.”
“Excuse me,” Madison said. “I will not be sleeping with either of you. I may have let myself get caught up before, but if he comes back I will calmly, firmly tell him no.” She crossed her arms, crossed her legs, and that was that.
***
I had a difficult time falling asleep that night. I touched myself beneath the covers, but I was careful not to finish, half expecting Madison to sneak in to satisfy her unspent urges.
I glanced at the mirror in the early morning, but Madison’s bed was empty.
I was worried that I’d find her in the lab, pinned against a cathode or on her knees beneath the decontamination shower. But, peering around the edge of a grandfather clock at this very early hour, I caught her leaving the professor’s bedroom, no coffee tray in hand, wearing one of his white button up shirts.
***
“Today,” the professor told me in his study. “I want the transistor done today.”
I entered the lab that morning curious to see who’s clothes Madison would be wearing, but it was her own. A short brown skirt and white blouse. The double was awake, curling weights with only a towel tied around his waist, as Madison circled him. She pressed a stethoscope to his chest periodically, measured various parts of his body with a tape measure, and jotted notes onto her clipboard.
“Already taking chances?” I said.
Madison ignored me, holding the tape measurer over his bicep and letting it stretch as his muscle flexed.
“You’re in charge of the computer, I’m in charge of the body,” she said. “His muscles need exercise and they need to stretch.”
“Maybe I should be the one -“
“I’m in complete control here,” she said. “We already had a couple of…flare ups this morning, but he respects my boundaries.”
“Respecting your own boundaries, as well?”
She took a deep breath as his chest rose beneath her stethoscope and bit a corner of her mouth as she watched it fall.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.
I sat at my computer and began pouring over the data. I had an idea to plug in some kind of transitionary algorithms, something to simulate a degradation of brain cells so that the double’s brain waves could recognize the professor’s. A kind of artificial bridge linking the old and the new. My early tests seemed promising; I kept getting positive readouts when I asked the computer for recognition reports.
But there was still something interfering with a complete sync, something confusing the algorithm. I pulled up a live readout of the double’s brain waves and saw that the activity was spiking too busily for a new task.
“He’s going to have to stop exercising for a minute,” I called to Madison. “Wouldn’t hurt if you got out of sight, either.”
She ignored me again; I got no response. I tried another sync, but same problem.
“Madison, I think I’ve got this figured out, if you’ll just keep him calm.”
No answer.
One last attempt, but with his brain waves still spiking, it was no use.
“Madison!” I spun in my chair, but neither she nor the double were anywhere in sight. The dumbbells sat on the floor by the hibernation bath, the towel draped over them.
I started to march toward her room when I heard a muffled slapping sound across the lab. By the cisterns? The server towers? No. I noticed the door to the walk-in freezer slightly ajar, and, jerking it open, I saw the double behind Madison, her skirt hiked up, her blouse and bra yanked down, such that her entire outfit was bunched around her waist. Their goose-pimpled skin, she held her legs tightly together to fight the cold. She hugged herself, her breasts squeezed pertly between her arms, her nipples taut. The double held her ring of clothes for leverage, some part of his body smacking some part of hers with each thrust. Madison shivered, but I don’t think it was from the cold.
***
She buttoned her blouse, though a couple of buttons were missing. She sat in my computer chair, avoiding eye contact as I leaned against the desk. The double stood nearby.
“There was no orgasm,” she said.
“Only because I stopped you.”
“No, I told you, I was in complete control.” The button gone, Madison held the top of her blouse shut with her hand. “I wasn’t going to let him cum.”
The lab door burst open, the metal bashing against the brick, and in shuffled the professor. Madison got to her feet, held her hands behind her back.
“Miss Lounds!” he shouted from across the room. “If you’re going to behave like an absolute harlot, unable to keep your hands off my future body, I’m going to have to ask you to pack your things.”
“Harry,” she said, a little taken aback.
“Traipsing about, teasing every cock in the house, fucking the one cock you aren’t allowed to fuck.”
“There was no orgasm,” I said on her behalf. “For him, at least.”
“I won’t have my experiment, my life’s work, ruined by the whims of some undersexed slut nymphette. By this siren of science.”
Madison stared straight ahead, back straight, seemingly unmoved by the professor’s tirade.
“I may have solved it,” I said, after a moment.
“You? Got your balls out of your ears?” He glanced over Madison, suddenly noticing her low-cut blouse, her pastel orange bra peeking through where the shirt button should have been. “Are all your clothes broken?” He asked.
“That is I think I’ve solved your problem, sir,” I said sternly.
This seemed to shock the professor out of his ire somewhat. With success potentially in sight, his rage turned to shame. Looking at Madison, the quiet seething beneath her stolid demeanor, the professor realized he may have sacrificed one goal in pursuit of another.
“Weeks?” he asked.
“Minutes, I’d say.” I programmed the algorithm to take any carnal spikes into account; the important part was the deterioration bridge.
“You mean now?” The professor asked.
“If you’re ready.”
He looked at Madison, a blank, angry look in her eyes, and he looked at his naked double, his emotionless stare. Then the professor looked at me and nodded.
I hurried over to a terminal by the hibernation bath. Two bodies controlled as one, just as one brain controls two arms, four limbs, ten fingers. The professor’s great breakthrough, now offering life-long youth.
I was mostly preoccupied with the terminal, running numbers and monitoring the synchronization process, so I only caught snippets of what transpired 15 meters away, my view partially obscured by my desk and a shelf of spare parts. But I heard Madison, her first spoken words since the professor’s outburst.
“Slut nymphet?” she said to him. “Undersexed slut nymphet?”
“Regrettable words,” he said. “Unworthy of my character.”
I saw her turn to the double. She held his right arm and glanced over his body.
“Soon this will be you? You’ll feel everything he feels?” she asked. “Any second now?”
The professor nodded, shifting on his cane.
Madison leaned toward the double and blew a gentle breath against his neck.
“Can you feel that?” she asked. The professor shook his head
Madison took the doubles hand. She raised it to her mouth and kissed slowly across his knuckles, looking up at the professor. When he didn’t react, she rested the hand against her breast, her cotton blouse.
The double was becoming aroused. I could see the spikes on the monitor, so I adjusted the inputs.
“Can you feel that?” Madison asked, and the professor shook his head, watching her intently.
“How’s it going, Charlie,” he called over to me, and I gave him my assurances – synchronization any second now.
Madison, eyeing the doubles growing erection, began inching her tight skirt higher. She ran her fingers up her thighs, felt beneath the skirt, then pulled down her white silk panties. A creamsicle, I thought from behind my computer, that pure shade of white with the orange bra beneath her blouse. I swallowed hard and wished I’d watched her get dressed that morning.
She brushed her panties against the double’s abs. Then lower. She draped them over his stiffening cock—my monitor spiked wildly—then, taking the dangling fabric in her hand, Madison began to slide her panties up and down the length of his shaft.
“Can you feel that?” she asked innocently.
“Charlie!” the professor shouted.
I watched her place herself between the professor and his double. Her back to the professor, I saw him ogle her ass through her skirt as She ran her hands across the double’s torso. She glanced over her shoulder, then crouched down onto her knees. I’m certain the professor could see down her blouse. Madison took hold of her panties and used them to pull the double’s cock to one side, then the other, up, then down, studying each inch very seriously.
Then, “what about this, professor?” and she used her panties to draw the double’s cock toward her mouth. She puckered her lips around the tip. She held it to the inside of her cheek. She slid her panties up and down, up and down. All while glancing up and back at the professor, waiting for a reaction.
“Charlie, for the love of god,” he shouted, and suddenly I had it. The brain waves recognized one another, the patterns overlapped, and I heard the professor’s cane kick out from underneath him. He fell back into a chair and let out a cry which echoed across the lab, the groan of a great pleasure denied, finally released. He sat silently for a moment, catching his breath.
I watched Madison get to her feet. She straightened her skirt, tried, unsuccessfully again, to close the top of her blouse, then held herself against the double and stroked his heaving chest.
“Congratulations, professor,” she said.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/10qa6ch/forever_hung_part_6_scifi_slow_burn_all