“Okay.” The cyborg maker lifted the neon cock out of the case. His grin grew wider as he looked at it. “You sure this is what yours looked like?”
“Don’t they all look pretty much the same?” Conan liked the hefty size of the glowing dildo, and who the fuck cared if it provided a beacon in the dark? Looking at it would also remind him that the thing wasn’t an original part, that because he’d helped Xander he’d be spending the rest of his life as neither male nor female unless he dosed himself with the hormones his body could no longer produce.
“Up to you, Captain. Next week we will attach your new hand.” Pak Song shifted the artificial cock from one hand to the other, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “A nd a deluxe-model cock.”
Conan hoped so. He’d still be a eunuch, still be compelled to wear the white robe he hated. He thought, if he had something functional to fill his empty groin, he wouldn’t feel as though he was quite as much a subject for pity and disdain. When Pak Song shuffled out of his hospital room, Conan stripped off the hated symbol of his unmanning and lay on the narrow bed to await his date with destiny.
His eyes closed, Conan daydreamed himself whole, his cock proudly rigid against his belly, his balls tight against his groin. A s he approached his bot, it morphed into a voluptuous female—an Earthling woman whose sensuous movements tempted him beyond resistance…
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
He moved closer until they stood mere inches apart, his cock head brushing the slightly convex satin of her belly.
Forbidden. Her rich, woman scent filled his nostrils, made his mouth water to taste her mouth, her throat, her satiny cunt lips. His fingers itched to pluck ripe nipples the color of cherries. Her auburn hair called out to be stroked, caressed, claimed in the way his ancestors had marked their mates for centuries before the Fall.
She knelt at his feet as he expected a well-trained slave to do. Her mouth felt hot and wet, like nectar of the gods on his smoothly shaved balls, his rampant cock. His juices bubbled, stimulated by her hands and mouth and the sight of her there, subservient to his desire. She’d swallow his ejaculate and then beg him to give her more of the same where it might take root.
Pressure built in his balls. He strained to find release. When it didn’t come, Conan reached for his lover. Had to have her take more of his cock down her agile throat. “Suck me, damn it. I’m—”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
He felt not a woman’s silken hair but his own empty groin. “I’m fucking dreaming.” Chapter Two
“Ouch.” It felt to Conan as though Pak Lin were ripping away his skin along with the pressure bandages that had covered his crotch for what seemed like at least the last six months.
“Look.” The handsome young man beamed down at his handiwork. “I have made you a cock.” Conan stared at the mirror suspended above his bed—at the biggest penis he’d ever seen, complete with a catheter protruding from the slit at its tip. It sprang from his hairless groin the way his own cock once had, and curved against his thigh as though a permanent part of his anatomy.
A pparently it was.
When it twitched and began to thicken as the cyborg maker lifted and examined it, Pak Song cackled. “I told you. My boy has made you cock that works.”
Gods in the universe, he had a cock again. A hot-pink cock with a glowing purple head and neon-green veins that blinked up at him as the flesh hardened beneath his gaze. “It doesn’t look real.”
“The cock looks exactly like the model you picked, except that Lin made it bigger. You big guy. Bigger than the bot he designed that one for.”
Shit. Conan hadn’t exactly envisioned having a cock that looked exactly like the one he’d selected. Or one that was quite so fucking huge.
“A ll it needs is a ring or two,” he commented, imagining some sparkling stones winking from the head and shaft of the monster appendage.
The wrinkles on Pak Song’s forehead deepened, as though deep in thought. Finally he looked up at Conan’s face. “Once you’ve healed, piercing it should be okay as long as you get acrylic ring. Metal might interfere with electromagnetic conduction.” It was all Conan could do not to break out laughing. “When can that be done?”
“A nother week, maybe. A fter catheter comes out.”
Conan lifted the monster cock—the thing felt real enough—and slid his fingers lower. “No balls?” Lin shook his head. “I refuse to make something that has no purpose. But I will work on a prototype. Maybe have one ready by time you wear out this cock.”
“Wear it out?”
“Sure. Ladies love that model. I told you so.”