My friend Alina, who I once accused of being imaginary (and who refuses to provide conclusive evidence to the contrary), has forayed into erotic science fiction for her second publication.
‘It started out as a bit of a sexual fantasy,’ Alina says, ‘but gradually the Sci-Fi and gender identity aspects of the story began to fascinate me.’
The 10,000 word novelette is quite pornographic in places, but also sets out to present a serious and coherent vision of mankind in space. It is a story, therefore, that cannot be categorised simply as erotica with a Sci-Fi dressing, or as Sci-Fi with gratuitous sex. It is, rather, a balanced mixture of the two, and quite surprising given the short length of the work.
It would be inappropriate for me to give a review (but here’s a great one by Sally at Bending the Bookshelf), so instead I have invited Alina to do a guest post.
~ ~ ~ synthie ~ ~ ~
I’m sure that out there somewhere in the universe today a female cyborg is proving that with a large enough supply of industrial lubricant and with a power core that would make a Terminator feel inadequate, that it is possible to fuck for all eternity in a state of multi-orgasmic bliss. Robot Nirvana, if you will.
I say this only because all the cyborgs having sex these days seem to be alpha males with shit-hot bodies – and, okay, I have nothing against the latter, but the alpha thing gets a bit tedious after a while. I mean, how many of those super-hot cybermen would be willing to return the favour and bend over and take it from me?
And why do they have to be pilots and warriors and pirates – and again I’m really not complaining, but surely there should also be female cyborgs doing amazing things (I have seen a few, and they’re seriously hot – I need to get me a mechanical girl) but I want more sex.
And not just the pleasure models in the brothels! Or if they are in the brothels, which really seems almost inevitable in the standard sexist view of human expansion which is awfully similar to the Wild West, where men are real men, women are real women, and small furry creatures are… well, cute.
Where was I… Ah, yes – I say, let there be men in the brothels! With huge cocks that will stay hard as long as necessary. Gorgeous men who won’t get jealous of each other, who will pair up, team up, gang up, whatever the woman their client wants. Or whatever the man their client wants.
I know I’m blurring the line here between robots and cyborgs. Robots shouldn’t have issues of identity and orientation. Cyborgs… are more complicated, a mess of human and synthetic, full of needs and desires, potentially a tangled mess of identity.
Humans themselves are already a tangled mess of identity, constantly worrying about body image and gender presentation and a hundred other things. Imagine adding into that a body you didn’t grow up in. Identity theft is one of the greatest violations there is. Having your natural body taken away could be traumatic. What if you felt your essential humanity was lost?
My story is about a spaceship pilot called Mike who has always been staunchly male and not immune to the sexist and species-ist attitudes that would be common in a traditionally all-male environment, even if society in general has grown out of our present-day sexism. Society may be more egalitarian, but there is a pervasive hatred of biosynths – humanoid robots with limited artificial intelligence. People call these ‘synthies’.
Mike wakes up after a near-fatal emergency to find he has been transplanted into a biosynthetic body – and it isn’t a male body. He needs to come to terms with how he sees himself and with how others see him. The silver lining is that the body is built for sex – and the sex is very good…
Excerpt
He recalled once seeing a woman with a cock. She had been a biosynth too. A robot whore in a brothel. She had been a bit strange in other ways too. Mike looked at the doctor, who was trying not to look at the semi-aroused naked body next to him. “I need a mirror. I need to see myself.”
The doctor nodded reluctantly and ordered a nurse to bring one. While they waited, Mike explored the region between his thighs, finding sensitive lips behind his balls, and he dipped the tip of a finger briefly into the wet softness of his new pussy. But that was just too strange for him to think about, and he withdrew. After a minute, the nurse returned with a mirror large enough for Mike to see almost all of himself.
He took a sharp breath. He was gorgeous. Voluptuous curves exaggerated beyond what was humanly normal. Wide hips and narrow waist. Light caramel skin. Big, beautiful cock and big, beautiful breasts. An attractive face despite a bald head. What really gave him away as a biosynth, however, were his eyes. His dark eyes were unnaturally large, nearly twice the size of human eyes. Exotic and captivating, but with an intelligence to them that a biosynth’s eyes never had. There was a human mind behind those synthetic eyes.
“I imagine this will take some getting used to,” the doctor said. “I think we’ll leave you to get acquainted with your new self. The nurse will check in on you later to see if you need anything.” He smiled nervously at Mike and turned to leave, surreptitiously trying to adjust the front of his trousers as he went.
For a long time Mike just sat glaring at his reflection. It was strange to look into the mirror and see someone else staring back. And yet it was him. The new him. So beautiful, so sexy, but it wasn’t him. He felt all wrong, a prisoner in someone else’s body. He was used to being a man. Strong. Muscular. His new feminine form felt fragile in comparison, and the exaggerated curves and biosynth eyes made him feel less than human.
Francis James Franklin (Alina Meridon) 
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