Tags: cyberpunk, gabrielle harbowy, jacked in, mixed sexualities, nobilis reed, peter tupper, sasha payne, transhumanism
Jacked In: Transhumanist Erotica
edited by Gabrielle Harbowy
$4.99 $3.99 ebook • ISBN 978-1-61390-094-9
100 pages, 30,501 words
Seven sexy science fiction stories explore and celebrate the eroticism that becomes possible when humans are augmented and enhanced through technology. Cybernetic implants, interfaces, prosthetics, nanotech…. and sex.
On sale for only $3.99 from circlet.com until January 21st!
Keep reading for more information and a hot excerpt from the book!
Genetic modification. Nanotech. Cybernetic implants, interfaces, and prosthetics. These are the tools of transhumanism, a movement which seeks to greatly enhance human potential through technology. And human innovation always finds a way to use new technology to enhance sex. The stories in Jacked In take place in the science-fictional future, the gritty reality depicted in cyberpunk, and even in a very near future that looks a lot like present-day, celebrating technology and sexuality by exploring human modifications that are repurposed — or purpose-built — for pleasure.
Transhumanism is a movement focused on the radical extension of human life and capabilities—mental, physical, and psychological. But what good is living longer, stronger, and harder if we’re not playing longer, stronger, and harder, too? With heightened senses comes a hunger for sensory stimulation. In Jacked In, readers can get a taste of what the future of sex might hold.
A Sweeter Science – Sasha Payne
A Trap Self-Sprung – Nalu Kalani
Cheese – Nobilis Reed
Docking Maneuvers – Cynthia Hamilton
Sweet Memories – J. Pape
Upgrade – Peter Tupper
Teneo, Tenere, Tenue – Peggy Barnett
An Excerpt from “Docking Maneuvers”
by Cynthia Hamilton
Serra Zhan refreshed the docking status glyph that hovered in the lower left corner of her vision. Still red. The counter beside it showed that she’d been in the queue for 94 minutes. She’d had to pee since minute 28, but she knew clearance would be authorized the moment she got settled in to heed nature’s call. That was just the way these things worked.
She would give it until minute 100. Then she would go, no matter what. She circled her thumb around the release catch of her safety harness, without applying the pressure needed to open it. Still nothing. The weight on her bladder felt exaggerated after a month in low-gravity transit. When she pressed her thighs together, the tingle of need was almost pleasant. In another six minutes, it might be a different story.
“Vessel 4381, this is Bacchus Station Operations. You are cleared for docking bay four.”
A click of Serra’s teeth activated her subcutaneous microphone. “Stars bless you, Bacchus Operator. I owe you a drink.”
She initiated her landing sequence. The operator left his mic on so that she could hear his chuckle. He had a pleasant, smooth voice. “You won’t have time for me, 4381. Not according to your manifest. Your cargo’s going to make you a lot of new friends out here.”
Serra grinned to herself. She didn’t know the specifics of what she carried in her cargo hold; knowing that it was a shipment of specialty merchandise for Raine’s shop on Bacchus Station, pleasure hub of the outer rim, was enough.
The airlock took thirty minutes to cycle. Serra visited the head, made herself presentable, and then second-guessed her outfit and made herself presentable again. She set her hair to black and picked an abstract starry pattern for the nano-ink on her back, perfectly framed by the backless shirt that accompanied her leather pants and stompy boots.
When she descended the ramp, a familiar face was waiting for her, above a familiar pair of open arms. She shifted her overnight bag on her shoulder and stepped into Raine’s hug, breathing in the modded champagne scent of her snow white hair and feeling the softness of the full breasts pressed against her own flat chest.
It was no coincidence that Raine’s was the most popular and profitable shop on Bacchus. She looked stunning in a casual blue cashmere mini-dress and heels.
“You look great,” Raine said. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Which is it?” Serra’s quip earned her a swat to the ass that made her squeak in surprise.
“What, it can’t be both?” Raine challenged, pulling back to let Serra see her arched eyebrow. She’d had her eyes pigmented silver to match her hair, giving her an inscrutable gaze that stood out boldly against her dark skin.
Serra linked arms with the shopkeeper and nudged her toward the transport lifts. “So, are you going to tell me what I’ve spent the last month bringing you, or are you going to keep me in suspense?”
They stepped into the lift and Raine pressed the button for her level. The pad recognized her fingertips and blinked white. “You really didn’t look?”
“You told me not to!”
“I know. But, you listened to me?”
Serra felt her face flush. “I’m annoying that way.” The lift opened and she skipped a step to catch up to Raine. “And you didn’t answer my question.”
Raine smirked over at Serra. “I’m annoying that way.”
* * * *
Raine could have had separate quarters if she’d wanted to, but she preferred to live in a suite of rooms just off of her shop. Serra remembered that from her last visit, but apparently her friend had done quite well for herself in the couple of years-subjective since Serra had last been on Bacchus.
One room was exquisitely fitted out as a dungeon, and the bathroom had a real tub for soaking. Serra couldn’t remember the last time she’d soaked in a tub. Raine followed her gaze, then playfully twitched her nose. “How long since your last shower?”
“With running water?” Serra asked, delighting in needling right back. She could sponge and wipe, in transit. It wasn’t the same, but she knew she smelled just fine. “About a month-subjective, give or take.”
“That’s a year for me,” Raine protested with mock horror. “Get in. Make bubbles. Take your time. It’ll be a little while before the treats are delivered from your ship, anyway.” She opened a cupboard and pulled out a ridged probe with a flanged end. Serra felt a tingling surge through her nethers, and this time it wasn’t her bladder.
Under Raine’s cool eyes, she eased her shirt off her shoulders. The charcoal synth-silk pooled at her hips for a moment, then slid down her legs to the floor. She took her time, caressing her flesh as she bared it. Hers wasn’t the only torment that could be drawn out.
Serra’s internal thermostat automatically adjusted for her nudity, but she dialed it back far enough for her nipples to harden and ache. She shivered, unaccustomed to feeling cold, but turned it into a shimmy to bounce her small breasts. Raine smirked, but crossed her arms impatiently.
Soon there was no more clothing to unzip or peel off. Now Serra felt the true inequity of her situation. She was nude, Raine was clothed. She was a hauler of cargo, her body hard and lean; Raine dealt in pleasure and luxury, and had the softer curves to match a softer life. Serra bent forward, hands braced on the wall for balance, and willed her clenched-up ass to relax.
The first touch she felt was the light scratch of fingernails, making her shiver again. Down her back, tracing her nano-ink stars, drawing constellations on her skin. Over the tight curves of her ass, continuing down the backs of her legs to the sensitive spot behind her knees… then up the insides of her thighs. Serra whimpered and spread her legs a little more. It had only been a month since she’d been touched by another living person, but it had been a long month.
Slick, warm pressure slid down between her buttocks and pressed at her tight entrance. All the resistance and thought drained out of her body and she pressed back eagerly, moaning as the ridged toy filled her ass. Once it was fully lodged, it began a rolling vibration.
“Docking maneuvers complete, Captain Zhan. Now into the tub,” Raine said with a swat to Serra’s ass that made her gasp. “It’s waterproof, and it’ll give you a nasty shock if you come without me. This is just the appetizer. I’ll go check on the progress of the main course.” Her heels clicked on the tile, and the door slid closed.
Serra dialed the thermostat and started the water. The bubble baths in the dispenser were labeled with names that gave her no hint of their scents; to someone used to living on the bare necessities, each sounded more absurd than the last. Sweet Surrender, Sunset Serenade, Midnight Hunt, Sinful Caress… She finally selected one called Moonlit Muse. How bad could moonlight smell?
Pearly cream mixed into the water flow, soon filling the tub with generous bubbles. The scent wasn’t bad, really, and not overpowering. It had a subtlety Serra hadn’t dared to hope for on Bacchus.
She stepped in gingerly, keeping her balance despite the distracting buzz that filled her ass and seemed to sweep her concentration away. It shifted pattern when she sank down into the tub, only maintaining a rhythm long enough for her to get used to it, and then changing again. She leaned back, enjoying her soak, meditating to the shifting thrum and beat of the little motor inside her. Her hand drifted down her flat belly, fingers curling to the shape of her mound and gently brushing her clit–
And it stopped. She sighed, and made herself relax in the warm, silky water. Her ass clenched around the toy as if trying to bring it back to life again, to squeeze another few moments of rolling pleasure out of it.
Just when she’d made herself forget about the needy knot of pressure, the toy whirred to life: short, firm pulses. When she’d counted to five of them, they gave way to that rolling buzz she enjoyed so much, the force of it moving from base to tip and back. Just a few more seconds, and that alone would be enough to… she didn’t care if it shocked her afterward, she was so close to…
A long litany of muttered curses reverberated off the bathroom walls and hung in the air. As if on cue, the door slid open.
“All warmed up and ready to see what you brought me?” The white-haired temptress entered with a glossy black and crystal box in her hands. The packaging alone probably cost enough to feed someone planet-side for a week.
Serra arched one eyebrow. “Is it a towel?”
Raine stroked the lid. “Oh, no. This will make you wetter, not drier.”
“Really? I think I’m already as wet as I can be.” She splashed with one of her feet, toes darting briefly up above the surface of the bubbles.
Raine approached and set the box on the lip of the tub, opening the top and tilting it down for Serra to see. Serra frowned. She didn’t like playing with strap-ons, and Raine knew it. She had complained, in the pillow-time on her last visit, that she couldn’t feel anything through them, and would rather use her hands. Raine hadn’t seemed to mind.
“You’ll like this one, I assure you. Go on… take it. It’s yours to keep.”
It was a pretty strap-on, to be sure, with a smooth harness that seemed just right to cup a woman’s curves and a phallus shaped to find a G-spot, but still…
Serra lifted it out of the box with wet hands, turning it this way and that to inspect it. Her ass plug went quiet as she examined this new toy. Perhaps it was also curious. Or just jealous. She liked the idea of making the cruel little thing jealous, so she stroked the silvery synth-skin in the curve of her hand. It felt almost warm to the touch, and she wondered what it would feel like inside her.
“There’s a sensor pad inside the harness,” Raine instructed. “Press your thumb there and link it up.”
Holding the thing by the, well… by the convenient handle, she supposed, Serra turned it. Sure enough, a glossy spot on the matte interior curve, right about where her clit would be if she were wearing the thing, blinked with a subtle light. She touched her thumb pad to it and the info screen popped up on her HUD, scrolling some generic “thank you for choosing our product” text and instructional diagrams. It had multiple settings for changing the texture, color, curve, and pliancy of the phallus, and an automatic mode to adjust its dimensions to the recipient’s orifice of choice. She scrolled through the texture menu and felt it go from smooth to ridged to bumpy to a moving combination of textures against her hand.
“I can see why you wanted these. You’ll be sold out in a day,” Serra said.
Raine only smirked. “Just wait. Put it on.”
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