THP ERIC AND NICOLE
- 3 years ago
- 16
- 0
For Nicole free porn video
Sometimes the past acts as a mirror where the present with all its insecurities are displayed.
In the worst and the best of times, the daily grind remains the same, food has to be bought, bills have to be paid, rooms cleaned and dusted and the body eased to make ready for the next day.
Perhaps, such drudgery is the cause of all vice, that the root of sin is not in the excess, but for the escape from it. But then again, the definition of sin itself did emerge from hallowed halls skirts of supposed divinity and from the wrecks of abuse.
But such means nothing while working at Wendy's delivery service, of having to scoot over neighborhoods and earn barely a dollar over each trip over the wage. But any dollar was welcome though Amy, as she loaded up her order for the day; two grilled avocado blts with an order for 10 piece, no 11 piece, because Charles was generous in the station; to be delivered to 2122 Marie Street off Highway 12.
‘Marie Street’ she whispered, as her old van sputtered to life, that area was known to house eccentries, or more politely artisans, people dedicated to the craft. While Amy did indulge in the occasional cosplay thanks to her service background which blessed her with a fitness regime that enabled her to remain flexible even 2 years after retirement, the artisans were of the degree that some people thought them to be fetishists and plain weirdos.
Such a, liberal spirit was apparent when she rolled off the main road towards the block/ neighbourhood, plain tarmac road was replaced with paved blocks, shrubs and saplings gave way to manicured hedges and trees. Even the buildings took the tones of indigo magenta, dark orange, made in a way to mimic the sky and background behind it. The light posts were made to mimic stalks of flowers turned and sculpted in a manner as though they had just stepped out of a Tim Burton movie.
Scanning the bronze nameplates fixated on the dark apple green walls, she found 2122 and set her aging vehicle close to the curb, which as if relieved of its duty wheezed and let loose a small gust of steam from its radiator. Picking up the paper bags and smoothening them over, Amy quickly ran across her uniform, company shirt, jeans, plain shoes, no imperfections. Her colleagues' experience with such wealthy clientele often meant that their appearance was as important as the delivery itself.
‘Provided they did not know the amount of oil, GM food and recycled spices that went into the making of such’ she smirked to herself as she closed the bronze wire gate and stepped up to the door, with no apparent doorbell present she drew herself up to a smart stance and gave two knocks with immediate effect.
Now in the year 2035 when this story takes place, as a result of tumultous political debate, aparthid and genocide in some parts of the world, human augmentation led by the likes of David Sarif, Tai Young Medical Corp and mainstreamed by governement agencies such UNTF 29 ( United Nations Task Force 29); human augmentations have finally been released to the entitirety of the populance provided they have the money for it and can afford the anti rejection d**gs.
Amy was the 2nd generation augment, based on her career choice, while the 1st generation involved replacing organs/limbs with neuroprosthetics the 2nd generation involved grafting such into the organs themselves, think of sewing artificial muscles amongst healthy tissue, coating bones with alloy, all controlled by the ingestion of activating chemicals. For the uninitiated, say how coffee gives a rush, in a similar manner those chemicals activate the augments, which would eventually become muscle memory and hence reduce the rejection rate and the need for post operative care.
Unfortunately the result of such muscle memory; without proper awareness it was possible to activate musculate capable of supporting 800 kilos and cause damage to whatever is at the end of the fist. ‘ Fuck ‘ she cursed as she pried her hand loose from the door, while it was not her nature to zone out, whatever the reason was, there was a nice dent about 1 cm across on the door, and beneath the paint she could see flakes of, wood? ‘ Now if it was wood, natural wood, coming from the few reserves across the nation, I could kiss my yearly wages goodbye and apply for re-enlistment’ she moaned inwardly.
To top it off, her body sensing the adrenaline rush quitely activated her other augments, old optic sensors came on with an unpleasant twitch, her pulmonary systems made her breath deeper and gush out as if she was running a marathon. Sub dermal armour flickered into life and hardened slightly, deepening her skin tone, to an outsider it would have seemed that she had just run a good mile or so, to her and amongst her intimates, it was the other form of getting turned ‘ on’.
Controlling her breathing, she managed to calm down slightly letting the rush abb over her, as she could hear someone shuffling on the other side and see their form before her vision and hearing returned to normal. But it was too late for her to even consider smudging over the paint or try to ease the dent to normal, when the door swung open.
At first Amy’s ocular sensors flashed a conglomerate of information before setting down, before she could shut it down, her customer seemed to be a foot shorter than her, as she first saw the tips of her ears before glancing down to view a rather made up face framed by platinum blonde hair. Bostled by years of being stared down and by customer care training, she regained her composter and in the most corporate approved tone, intoned ‘ Good afternoon, ma’am I am Amy, from Wendy’s with your order no 9873, may I please confirm that I am speaking to …’
‘Halle’ the other replied in a sonorous no modified tone, that was no natural voice it was modified to a degree, ‘ Here you go ma’am’ Amy replied mechanically offering the bags of food and bending slightly at the waist to not only give an air of oblation but to ensure that the items were at the comfortable height of her customer.
Halle held the bags delicately, pinching the top of them with her fingers becoming the pinchers, the paper swagged but did not give, ‘ Good quality’ she thought as she bought up her phone to confirm the order and leave tips to her; delivery person. She momentary paused and observed the scruffy looking fellow, her modified ears indicated that someone had slammed into her door, setting off all internal alarms cutting her bath short and making her come out to the open with naught but her towel d****d over as a toga and her phone. ‘ Atleast this one is not staring’ she smirked inwardly confirming the order and looking at the scruffed up shoes and jeans of “ amy” or whatever, gave an above average tip, while giving her trademark smile ‘ Thank you.., Amy I have confirmed the order, have a nice day’ and without giving a pause shut the door gently.
Amy stood for a moment with the door shut at her face, while she was used to having doors slammed on her, this was a relief as 1 there was no mention of the ruckus she created and 2 her heads up display indicated that she did receive a fat tip. With nothing to do apart from staring at an ornate door which now bore an imprint of her hand she turned on her heels, back to her old van and to the rest of her duties.
‘Ay fuckface pass the ball!’ Charles bellowed to the screen, his voice soon cut off by the rock music blaring out of the mismatched speakers. Through the smoke the name of their fine establishment VA-1 Hall-A flickered in garish neon, or to its patrons valhalla. This is where people came to find answers, usually at the bottom of an empty glass, over steel tables decorated with recycled covers. Here Amy with her colleagues, Charles; cook extraordinaire; Drew the overworked new guy, Julius the cashier and Mariya her fellow delivery team mate, lounged after another day at their grind. Amy nursed her beer, the synthetic cheap kind; parts of Bronson extract and Powdered Delta, it lacked the roughness of the organic kind, having a strange syrup-like smoothness. But at least it was bubbly and packed a good kick. It was better than having the other drinks in the menu which resembled straight raw alcohol with flavouring.
‘ So tell me Amy, what did you do to get the blessing of our lords?’ Julius snorted over his drink, his cheeks betraying, that it was the end of the night for him, ‘ that you saunter over paradise, deliver a pack of fat and guess what? Get paid? Hah! Atleast the gods still eat like this’ he reproached bitterly, tipping over his glass and on slamming on the table gave a long look; which signified that it was a question that could not be avoided.
‘ Now what you want to know?’ Amy purred back, equally intoxicated she cupped her chin in and thought that it was not one of her first deliveries to that place, since corporate decided that attractive females would form the bulk of their delivery staff, to gain more patronage because of ‘feminine’ charm. She made four deliveries, crossing them over her mind, she looked over her hands and it clicked. ‘ You mean Halle? Hah! Pure eyecandy, my augments were lighting up with the description of all her toys’ she hollered back, ‘ You know about them fashion augments? Better stuff than what is put into us but more decorative ? ‘ using her hands to mimic the shapes ‘she had them cat ears, cutting edge Darrow tech, her entire skin I reckon was coated, and the best bit? She had the Sarif Social Enhancer!’ with the last bit she made a suggestive action in front of her lips and fell back laughing. ‘ no way ! the Socal enhancement? ‘ Julius retorted, elbows on the table and clearly interested, ‘ I heard that them are used for pure social ‘ situations’ ‘ ‘No it was meant to ensure that the user had optimum response to the input of the other party’ Mariya interjected, ‘ you both and your porn fantasies’ she snorted returning back to her smokes.
‘ Ignore that old tart’ Julius conspired, ‘ Thing is those implants cost a fortune, dunno where those artists type gets their money from, corporates just happy that market is picking up in that area’ Amy snorted ignoring his last comment; ‘ so long as I get my money’ she mused, thinking of the impending rent and the electricity bill, consulting her internal computer, she browsed over her augments were showing no sign of rejection, ‘ at least for a while’ she sighed, before peering over towards Mariya and grabbing her pack of cigarettes.
Taking a deep breath, ignoring the toxic alerts, she replied ‘ Say Julius what does the corporate think of our branch, would they be keeping us? ‘ that got a riased eye brow from Drew, ‘ yeah sure we are located right just in the middle between the city habs and the suburbs unless they decide to fuck up their stocks we should be fine, plus I spoke with the big boss and went over the records; as a franchise we can exist independently provided we pay for the brand.’ ‘ huh’ Amy took another drag ‘ that is good news, enough of scaring the new guy, Hey! Mariya got a pack of cards? Nights still young you still have that storage spaces? ‘
In the worst and the best of times, the daily grind remains the same, food has to be bought, bills have to be paid, rooms cleaned and dusted and the body eased to make ready for the next day.
Perhaps, such drudgery is the cause of all vice, that the root of sin is not in the excess, but for the escape from it. But then again, the definition of sin itself did emerge from hallowed halls skirts of supposed divinity and from the wrecks of abuse.
But such means nothing while working at Wendy's delivery service, of having to scoot over neighborhoods and earn barely a dollar over each trip over the wage. But any dollar was welcome though Amy, as she loaded up her order for the day; two grilled avocado blts with an order for 10 piece, no 11 piece, because Charles was generous in the station; to be delivered to 2122 Marie Street off Highway 12.
‘Marie Street’ she whispered, as her old van sputtered to life, that area was known to house eccentries, or more politely artisans, people dedicated to the craft. While Amy did indulge in the occasional cosplay thanks to her service background which blessed her with a fitness regime that enabled her to remain flexible even 2 years after retirement, the artisans were of the degree that some people thought them to be fetishists and plain weirdos.
Such a, liberal spirit was apparent when she rolled off the main road towards the block/ neighbourhood, plain tarmac road was replaced with paved blocks, shrubs and saplings gave way to manicured hedges and trees. Even the buildings took the tones of indigo magenta, dark orange, made in a way to mimic the sky and background behind it. The light posts were made to mimic stalks of flowers turned and sculpted in a manner as though they had just stepped out of a Tim Burton movie.
Scanning the bronze nameplates fixated on the dark apple green walls, she found 2122 and set her aging vehicle close to the curb, which as if relieved of its duty wheezed and let loose a small gust of steam from its radiator. Picking up the paper bags and smoothening them over, Amy quickly ran across her uniform, company shirt, jeans, plain shoes, no imperfections. Her colleagues' experience with such wealthy clientele often meant that their appearance was as important as the delivery itself.
‘Provided they did not know the amount of oil, GM food and recycled spices that went into the making of such’ she smirked to herself as she closed the bronze wire gate and stepped up to the door, with no apparent doorbell present she drew herself up to a smart stance and gave two knocks with immediate effect.
Now in the year 2035 when this story takes place, as a result of tumultous political debate, aparthid and genocide in some parts of the world, human augmentation led by the likes of David Sarif, Tai Young Medical Corp and mainstreamed by governement agencies such UNTF 29 ( United Nations Task Force 29); human augmentations have finally been released to the entitirety of the populance provided they have the money for it and can afford the anti rejection d**gs.
Amy was the 2nd generation augment, based on her career choice, while the 1st generation involved replacing organs/limbs with neuroprosthetics the 2nd generation involved grafting such into the organs themselves, think of sewing artificial muscles amongst healthy tissue, coating bones with alloy, all controlled by the ingestion of activating chemicals. For the uninitiated, say how coffee gives a rush, in a similar manner those chemicals activate the augments, which would eventually become muscle memory and hence reduce the rejection rate and the need for post operative care.
Unfortunately the result of such muscle memory; without proper awareness it was possible to activate musculate capable of supporting 800 kilos and cause damage to whatever is at the end of the fist. ‘ Fuck ‘ she cursed as she pried her hand loose from the door, while it was not her nature to zone out, whatever the reason was, there was a nice dent about 1 cm across on the door, and beneath the paint she could see flakes of, wood? ‘ Now if it was wood, natural wood, coming from the few reserves across the nation, I could kiss my yearly wages goodbye and apply for re-enlistment’ she moaned inwardly.
To top it off, her body sensing the adrenaline rush quitely activated her other augments, old optic sensors came on with an unpleasant twitch, her pulmonary systems made her breath deeper and gush out as if she was running a marathon. Sub dermal armour flickered into life and hardened slightly, deepening her skin tone, to an outsider it would have seemed that she had just run a good mile or so, to her and amongst her intimates, it was the other form of getting turned ‘ on’.
Controlling her breathing, she managed to calm down slightly letting the rush abb over her, as she could hear someone shuffling on the other side and see their form before her vision and hearing returned to normal. But it was too late for her to even consider smudging over the paint or try to ease the dent to normal, when the door swung open.
At first Amy’s ocular sensors flashed a conglomerate of information before setting down, before she could shut it down, her customer seemed to be a foot shorter than her, as she first saw the tips of her ears before glancing down to view a rather made up face framed by platinum blonde hair. Bostled by years of being stared down and by customer care training, she regained her composter and in the most corporate approved tone, intoned ‘ Good afternoon, ma’am I am Amy, from Wendy’s with your order no 9873, may I please confirm that I am speaking to …’
‘Halle’ the other replied in a sonorous no modified tone, that was no natural voice it was modified to a degree, ‘ Here you go ma’am’ Amy replied mechanically offering the bags of food and bending slightly at the waist to not only give an air of oblation but to ensure that the items were at the comfortable height of her customer.
Halle held the bags delicately, pinching the top of them with her fingers becoming the pinchers, the paper swagged but did not give, ‘ Good quality’ she thought as she bought up her phone to confirm the order and leave tips to her; delivery person. She momentary paused and observed the scruffy looking fellow, her modified ears indicated that someone had slammed into her door, setting off all internal alarms cutting her bath short and making her come out to the open with naught but her towel d****d over as a toga and her phone. ‘ Atleast this one is not staring’ she smirked inwardly confirming the order and looking at the scruffed up shoes and jeans of “ amy” or whatever, gave an above average tip, while giving her trademark smile ‘ Thank you.., Amy I have confirmed the order, have a nice day’ and without giving a pause shut the door gently.
Amy stood for a moment with the door shut at her face, while she was used to having doors slammed on her, this was a relief as 1 there was no mention of the ruckus she created and 2 her heads up display indicated that she did receive a fat tip. With nothing to do apart from staring at an ornate door which now bore an imprint of her hand she turned on her heels, back to her old van and to the rest of her duties.
‘Ay fuckface pass the ball!’ Charles bellowed to the screen, his voice soon cut off by the rock music blaring out of the mismatched speakers. Through the smoke the name of their fine establishment VA-1 Hall-A flickered in garish neon, or to its patrons valhalla. This is where people came to find answers, usually at the bottom of an empty glass, over steel tables decorated with recycled covers. Here Amy with her colleagues, Charles; cook extraordinaire; Drew the overworked new guy, Julius the cashier and Mariya her fellow delivery team mate, lounged after another day at their grind. Amy nursed her beer, the synthetic cheap kind; parts of Bronson extract and Powdered Delta, it lacked the roughness of the organic kind, having a strange syrup-like smoothness. But at least it was bubbly and packed a good kick. It was better than having the other drinks in the menu which resembled straight raw alcohol with flavouring.
‘ So tell me Amy, what did you do to get the blessing of our lords?’ Julius snorted over his drink, his cheeks betraying, that it was the end of the night for him, ‘ that you saunter over paradise, deliver a pack of fat and guess what? Get paid? Hah! Atleast the gods still eat like this’ he reproached bitterly, tipping over his glass and on slamming on the table gave a long look; which signified that it was a question that could not be avoided.
‘ Now what you want to know?’ Amy purred back, equally intoxicated she cupped her chin in and thought that it was not one of her first deliveries to that place, since corporate decided that attractive females would form the bulk of their delivery staff, to gain more patronage because of ‘feminine’ charm. She made four deliveries, crossing them over her mind, she looked over her hands and it clicked. ‘ You mean Halle? Hah! Pure eyecandy, my augments were lighting up with the description of all her toys’ she hollered back, ‘ You know about them fashion augments? Better stuff than what is put into us but more decorative ? ‘ using her hands to mimic the shapes ‘she had them cat ears, cutting edge Darrow tech, her entire skin I reckon was coated, and the best bit? She had the Sarif Social Enhancer!’ with the last bit she made a suggestive action in front of her lips and fell back laughing. ‘ no way ! the Socal enhancement? ‘ Julius retorted, elbows on the table and clearly interested, ‘ I heard that them are used for pure social ‘ situations’ ‘ ‘No it was meant to ensure that the user had optimum response to the input of the other party’ Mariya interjected, ‘ you both and your porn fantasies’ she snorted returning back to her smokes.
‘ Ignore that old tart’ Julius conspired, ‘ Thing is those implants cost a fortune, dunno where those artists type gets their money from, corporates just happy that market is picking up in that area’ Amy snorted ignoring his last comment; ‘ so long as I get my money’ she mused, thinking of the impending rent and the electricity bill, consulting her internal computer, she browsed over her augments were showing no sign of rejection, ‘ at least for a while’ she sighed, before peering over towards Mariya and grabbing her pack of cigarettes.
Taking a deep breath, ignoring the toxic alerts, she replied ‘ Say Julius what does the corporate think of our branch, would they be keeping us? ‘ that got a riased eye brow from Drew, ‘ yeah sure we are located right just in the middle between the city habs and the suburbs unless they decide to fuck up their stocks we should be fine, plus I spoke with the big boss and went over the records; as a franchise we can exist independently provided we pay for the brand.’ ‘ huh’ Amy took another drag ‘ that is good news, enough of scaring the new guy, Hey! Mariya got a pack of cards? Nights still young you still have that storage spaces? ‘
Dottie
- 14.09.2020
- 5
- 0
