Joy pleases Bradley.

Bradley’s eyes immediately clear up, like the world returned from being a foggy mess and back to a clear place of rules that make sense. He stands, takes my hand, and takes the lead, guiding me back to my bedroom. When we enter though, I put my hands on his arms and spin us around so that his back is to the bed. I couldn’t move him even if I wanted to, but Bradley lets me position him how I want and even let’s me ‘push’ him onto the bed so he’s lying on his back, his feet still planted on the floor.

With our positions reversed from that first night, I kneel down in between his legs, and slide his pants, shoes, and underwear off. When his cock is standing upright in front of me, I take his hands at mind and ‘hold’ them to his sides while I lick and kiss along his length. Akin to learning Bradley’s signs of impending orgasm, I’m getting good at learning what he likes done to him. How he prefers just my mouth, rather than my hand stroking his length while I lick and suck. How he likes his balls just barely teased with my nails and not cupped or held. How he likes the dichotomy of short shallow sucking, my tongue going mad at the base of his cockhead, and long deep sucking, taking him into my throat.

I use my knowledge of what Bradley likes and combine it with my knowledge of his impending orgasm to keep him on the edge of climax for several minutes. I’m happy to feel his hands clench and tense in mine, but they never try to break free of my grip. Again, it’d be so easy for him to pull from my dainty fingers, to put his hand on the back of my head, and to fuck my face until he’s filling me with his cum. But he doesn’t. He lets me please him.

With all the time I’ve been here, with all the fucking that’s been done to me, I’ve always been in the submissive position. The ‘fucked’ as opposed to the ‘fucker’. Even when I was riding my guys in cowgirl or reverse cowgirl, I had their hands under my ass, controlling my stride and movements. This time, I keep the control that Bradley is giving me. With a final kiss to the bottom side of his shaft, I rise from my knees and climb on top of him. When he starts to lift up his chest, looking like he wants to kiss me or caress me, I push on his chest to make him lie back down and guide his hands to my waist. Not as a point of control, just as a point for his hands to touch me. With one hand on his chest to balance myself, I line up his hardness below me and lower myself onto him, taking him balls deep.

At first, as I get used to the full feeling provided by Bradley, I simply sit there. I rock back and forth and I grind on him, but I don’t rise and fall. When I feel Bradley’s hands grip my waist, mine quickly find his and grip there. I silently say, and he silently hears, that he’s to touch but not move. Not command. He’s the passenger here. I’m in control.

When I’m ready I start lifting myself up by an inch, then lowering myself back down. I’m gentle and slow and methodical. I let myself feel every nook and cranny of his thick cock, every vein, every bump. I can feel my own arousal rising. I’m not sure if it’s from being in control or honest lust rising in me, and frankly I don’t care. I’m doing this for me and to please Bradley. Like an athlete that works out and has leg days, it feels like I’ve been working out most evenings and every day is pussy day. It’s humiliating and emasculating and awful, but at the same time it’s empowering as I’m able to squeeze down on Bradley in very specific ways. I squeeze him so much when I lift that I’m practically pulling him up with me. I relax on my ride down, letting our bodies squish and smack into one another.

It doesn’t take long until I’m riding him, taking advantage of every bit of his length as my hair and breasts bounce and as my cries and moans fill the room with song. I see Bradley below me, watching me, and see the normal arousal and lust playing over his features. But underneath that, I see a vortex of other emotions that I’m not sure if even he understands. And that I’m certainly not able to accept, because chief amongst these other, underlying, emotions is love.

As I approach my climax, slowly, steadily, and pleasurably, I lean forward and lay down on Bradley. My lips find his and I start kissing him. His hands move from my waist to my ass, and he starts gripping me. My hands find his chest under my weight, and I start scratching at him. This orgasm is just as powerful as my previous trips to this magical land, but I arrive differently. When Sterling, or Montana, or Bradley, pushed me over the edge I was a mere passenger. I was sometimes sent into an orgasm scratching and kicking and screaming, and other times I was limp and nothing more than flesh under their use. But this time, I’m driving myself to that horizon and I’m in control.

Sterling had no correlation between my orgasm and his. Montana waited until after I came to come himself, but that time varied between seconds and minutes. Even Bradley, who gave me so many screaming orgasms, just treated his own climax as the end point of the night. The final fireworks display. But this time was different. I clenched and tightened, I adjusted my pace and changed my tactics. I made sure Bradley’s assent to climax was near my own. And just as he threw his head back, a low growling cry of ecstasy escaping his lips, just as he pulled me close and started filling me with his hot sticky seed, I flew over that magical edge and came along with him.

We came down from our orgasms together. Our breathing changing from ragged, rough attempts to get enough oxygen in, to smoother calmer breaths. Our shivering, trembling, bodies calming and relaxing together. I could feel Bradley softening inside of me as his cum leaked out and spread over his balls but made no move to change positions. I just rested on him, finding his lips with my own gentle thanking kisses.

When I felt I was almost going to fall asleep in this position I was pulled awake again by Bradley. He easily gripped my waist and rolled me off of him. Reaching down he gathered up the blanket and pulled it over our naked sticky bodies and wrapped me up in his arms. I wasn’t his little spoon this time, nor was I his wifey with my face on his chest. No, this time we fell asleep facing each other, our arms entangled and hugging each other. Sleep was glorious.

The morning’s routine is normal, but somehow feels better. Feels more personal. I wake Bradley up with an under the covers blowjob, letting him grip my head and guide me as he sees fit. We then shower, giving each other oral pleasure and I again find myself amazed that he can have such stamina. I get dressed in another sexy librarian outfit and put on my face and hair, before making my way down to make Bradley breakfast. Just as I’m laying out his eggs and bacon, he surprises me by taking my hand and having me sit next to him. Having me join him for breakfast.

I keep giving him side glances, happy to be sharing this with him but at the same time worried that it has some deeper meaning. When we’re finished, he takes my hand in his, pats it, and surprises me by apologizing. “I’m sorry Joy, I just wanted to have a meal with you. I’m still getting my head around what you want, and I know that my wife enjoyed sharing meals with me. If you’d rather focus on serving, as is your right, just let me know, okay?”

I’m so flabbergasted at the thought of us sharing a meal being the non-normal means, that I can only nod and smile saying, “Sure Bradley.”

Once I have the kitchen cleaned up, Bradley appears dressed for work. He gives me a kiss to the top of my head and a playful pat to my rear as he says he’ll see me tonight. My morning continues as soon as Bradley walks out the front door and Sterling approaches me from the bedroom. I guess one advantage of him being an artificial intelligence is there’s no hard feelings of having Bradley overpower his will last night. He takes his normal assertive stance and sits down in Bradley’s recently vacated chair. After I give him his morning head, the three loads of cum along with the bacon and eggs filling me up nicely, I let him take me in for my intimate lesson. Almost as an apology to my robot, I don’t put up any fuss in training and let him give me lessons on being a better cock sucker.

As per the normal, I’m left hot and bothered after watching my lips travel up and down that rubber cock in the mirror for about an hour. To hopefully gain time at the library, I kneel down in front of Sterling and take him deep in my throat again. Where my techniques mean something with Bradley, the knowledge that I’m pleasing him being its own reward, doing this with Sterling feels almost like another exercise. Like walking or jogging to maintain my heart health. I have a set of goals to check off in order to ‘please’ him. And just like in a game, if I do them in the wrong order or don’t accomplish them correctly, he’ll have me on my knees, bobbing up and down on his cock for longer and longer.

With my fourth load of cum delivered to my belly, I get to the bedroom, clean myself up, and have Kylan drive me to the library.

Stepping in, I’m surprised to see Catty waiting at the main desk. She’s dressed quite provocatively, her short skirt barely covering her curvy behind as she leans forward and overtly flirts with one of the staff. As I approach her, Montana spots me and cuts me off before I can get to her. After a good morning kiss and squeeze of my ass, he smiles down at me and says, “So your friend stopped by this morning and said she’d like to spend the day with you. I told her it was no problem at all, that we’d be happy to have two women in the library. You can feel free to use whatever you want, from the general stacks to the restricted sections, to the back office and storage areas. Just have fun and we’ll consider this a personal day off for you!”

I **** a smile while grinding my teeth, wondering why Catty would come in and intentionally delay my time researching. Taking her hand in mine and excusing her from the desk clerk, I guide her back to a quiet area of the library where we’re unlikely to be bothered. Sitting down, she goes right into what she wanted to talk about. “Joy, Atticus and I have talked it over and we’re really wondering if our current path is the best for us. Should we even be trying to change the past?”

I shake my head slowly back and forth, barely able to believe that Atticus and Catty could be so taken in by this society that they’d want to sacrifice our own time. “Catty, we need to stay focused. We’re not talking about changing the past. We’re talking about changing our present. The only way that’s our past and this is our present is if we don’t do anything.”

Catty reaches out and takes my hand. “But Joy, we ARE here. We see these people and we interact with them. We find out that they love and work and interact with each other. They not only accept us into their community, they work to integrate us in the most fulfilling and pleasurable way possible. I mean, they’re even working with you and that has to be borderline impossible! If we do what we originally planned to do, they’ll all just disappear.”

I pull my hand out of hers, crossing my arms across my body as if I were hugging myself. “What do you mean they’re working with me? They’re ignoring anything that I want and making me into their idealized female. But let’s not focus on us as individuals. You like what they’re doing, I don’t. Those are both valid. But if we don’t do what we came here to do, this dystopian future is what very few of the people we know and love can look forward to. I’ve already learned that the shelters that protected people from the disaster could only hold a few million people. That’s out of a population of almost 400 million people in America. Lord knows how many of the almost 9 billion people around the world make it. Are you two willing to just write off almost everybody that ever was in our time?”

I internally sigh with at least a bit of relief as I see I’ve made some headway on Catty. She had always been open to new facts and never fenced off her thought process just to fit a narrative that she liked. Her next argument, however, confuses me. “But Joy, what about you? Both Atticus and I have seen how much you’re enjoying your time. If we find the information we’re looking for, you’re either going to go back as a woman with no identification, into a society far different than here, or as a man with the desires to be this woman that you are? Can you do that? Can you sacrifice your internal self? Both Atticus and I look at our status here as far and beyond better than what we had in our own time… in the past.”

My eyes squint with disbelief. “What do you mean how much I’m enjoying my time? My time is hell, Catty. Hell. From when I wake up in the morning and have to serve either my neighbor or my lord and commander robot, to my morning lessons on how to sexually please men with my mouth and throat, to my day job of getting screwed by all the men I work with, to the evening where I host a group of men who end up all fucking me.” My voice is rising, and I know I shouldn’t be saying these things aloud at all, certainly not at levels where people could hear them, but the emotional barn door is open, and I can’t stop this from being vocalized loudly. “I AM NOT A WOMAN CATTY! Every God Damned Act of Feminine Sexuality That’s **** On Me Is HELL!”

Catty’s response isn’t the one I would have expected. She should have looked upset, or dismayed, or apologetic. But disbelief just doesn’t make sense. “Joy, it has to be hard to say goodbye to that part of your life, but we’ve seen how you interacted with men. With Bradley, with Montana, with your robot Sterling. Hell, I saw you just the other day when I peeked in your window, with you kneeling in front of the mirror and going to town on that dildo. Your robot Sterling said he set up that lesson for you and that you’ve done it every morning, either for him or for Bradley.” Catty tilts her head to one side as if she’s stating something so obvious that even a child should recognize it. “If you really didn’t want this, didn’t want to learn how to be a better woman, how to better please the men who are just trying to make you feel good all the time, then you wouldn’t have let that happen. Joy, Atticus and I looked up Sterling’s programing, thinking he might be trapping you and he was so easy to hack into that it would have taken you a couple minutes. So, don’t tell me that you don’t want this. You just want it to be **** and that’s fine, but let’s not lie about the core truths. You like this happening to you!”

My heart drops through my body, outside of my feet, and through the floor. My two colleagues, the only two people in the world who could believe me, both think I’m enjoying my time here. That I’m honestly appreciative of being made into a sex starved woman and being made to sexually service man after man after man. If I can’t convince them that I don’t want this, do I even have a chance of convincing them to go back and save the world?