“Where were you last night?”

I rolled onto my side and a headache thunder-clapped through my skull. A nude woman occupied with me a bed so broad it seemed a landscape of satin sheets.

“Where did you go last night?” she asked again. Whoever she was, she was royalty. A holo-tattoo of the Imperial Dragon coiled around the pupil of her left eye, shimmering iridescently. A princess? A queen? By all the gods and goddesses! Maybe I was an adulterer, and soon the king’s guards would burst through the arched door and castrate me. I winced and crossed my legs.

But wait… Maybe I am the king! I smiled at the idea. Could I be that lucky? It would explain why I’m in bed with a woman who is so long and broad she takes up half again as much of the feather-stuffed mattress as I do. I doubt I’d be haughty enough about my sexual prowess to take on a mighty Amazon… unless— unless I am the king himself!

“I’m waiting for an answer,” she said. Her deep voice sounded more annoyed than curious.

“The Net,” I said. “Surfing the Net.”

“That much I have deduced, woman! Where on the Net?”

She called me a woman. Why the slur? Next to her, I am petite, but I am no sissy. Or am I? Should I take offense and defend my manhood? I shrugged. “Just scanning. Random hits.”

Does her insult prove that I am not the king? Only the queen would have the audacity to belittle the king, so perhaps it merely shows that she is my queen. If so, I’m wed to one with the meanness of a shrew.

She uncorked a tiny silver vial and waved it under my nose. I jerked back from the sharp smell but my headache cleared almost instantly as if a fresh breeze had chased a dark storm cloud over the mountains.

“I need to know exactly where,” she said. “Which links?”

“Uh…let’s see…” I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate. My headache had vanished, but my brain still felt like a biological specimen pickled in alcohol. How much plum wine had I guzzled last night? I didn’t recall drinking any.

“I linked with an A.I. satellite orbiting Europa V,” I said. “What a view! The nanos are turning the whole moon green. It’s already got oceans. The satellite felt so happy and proud—like a mother-goddess looking down on her newborn creation.”

“And?”

“And then I linked with an eco-viewing satellite over Eden and watched a pod of orchid whales floating in the stratosphere. I love to see them talking in colors. So beautiful!”

All the while I was trying to remember where I was now but I couldn't even recall my name. Yet for someone wiped out from amnesia I felt no panic. Shouldn’t I be afraid?

She nodded impatiently. “Where else did you link?”

“Mm. I don’t… Last I remember I was linking with a club somewhere on New Bangkok colony. There was this erotic dancer, super-empath—with hundreds of customers plugged into her mind. I could experience everyone’s sexual

desires at the same time.” I shivered and let out a sigh. “Intense!”

She gazed into my eyes. “You don’t know who I am.” Her cobalt blue irises were lovely; the coiled dragon tattoo shimmered and flashed in rainbow hues. She had remarkably broad shoulders. “Can you remember anything?”

I tried an apologetic smile—a crooked, masculine grin that said, Sorry. I’m a rogue and I can’t help it—but hey, I’m an adorable rogue. The frown on her broad face told me it wasn’t working.

My eyes darted around the room for clues to both our identities. The emerald headboard featured elaborately carved hunting scenes and knights on armored dragons engaged in violent mid-air clashes, but the artwork’s central theme was lust: dozens of handsome bodies coupled in an imaginative variety of lovemaking poses. On the molded ceramic wall above the headboard hung what must be a giant painting, but it had been covered with a tapestry; only the bottom edge of a gilded frame peeked from beneath the folds of cloth that draped it. The tapestry offered scenes of a battle in space. Crisscrossing laser beams sewn with diamond thread glowed in the slanting light of the suns through the bedroom’s high triangular windows.

“You don’t even know my name!” she said. Strong fingers dug into my flesh as she turned over my forearm. There, on my wrist, a branded scar of a coiled dragon matched the seal glowing in her eye. Okay. So I’m not king. Apparently, I belong to this extremely butch lesbian. I must be her royal slave.

In bed with her, naked; so I presume I am her sex slave. All the stars like diamond dust! I must be an erotic virtuoso! I’m so skilled at making love, I can even satisfy this giantess.

“Sundari,” she said.

“Your majesty’s name is Sundari?”

“No, fool! Your name is Sundari.”

I suppressed a laugh. “Your highness jests with me. Apologies, but I know my name cannot be Sundari.”

She raised one eyebrow. “You’re certain?”

I wasn’t sure of much in that moment—but, hell, a man can’t have a woman’s name.

She read my mind. “If you’re a man,” she said, “how do you explain these?” She yanked down the bedclothes to my waist and cupped my bare, ample breasts in both hands.

My jaw dropped. I gawked at my bosom. Her warm, strong hands gave me goosebumps and my large pink nipples stiffened. Impossible! I lifted the covers and stared at my genitals—female. Under a mound of curly red hair, I had puffy love-lips as pink on the inside as a conch shell. Gods! I am a woman! And I am unreasonably beautiful!

“Sundari,” I said. The name did seem familiar to my tongue. “But, I felt like… I feel like a man.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’ve picked up a virus,” she said. “It’s rewired your gender identity. We’ve got to get you de-bugged and reboot your memory cache— again!”

“Sorry.” I felt disoriented. My voice should be a lot deeper. I knew myself as a man, had always been a man—no question about it—my whole memory was male, my entire personality. Yet I could not deny that I was presently abiding as a female. A woman as lovely as a night-blooming moonflower!

What a gorgeous body! Staring at it aroused me. Such perfect breasts! The kind of firm globes I remembered—I seemed to remember—loving to kiss and nuzzle and squeeze. Golden-red tresses curling down over my breasts matched my fiery pubic hair. “By all the gods and goddesses!” I blurted. I wanted to go stare at myself in the mirror; take a long bath and intimately get to know my lovely feminine form.

My bedmate smiled and snuggled closer. “No rush to get you straightened out, I suppose. We’ve got all morning for you to be my bitch…mister.” She gave a baritone laugh at her own joke. Her lips brushed mine and I noticed her square jaw needed a shave.

I gasped and bolted upright in bed. “Wait!” His erection, big and hard as a bludgeon, dug against my thigh. “But you… you’re a man!”

His laugh darkened. “And you’re my quivering little pleasure toy. Don’t play hard to get, sweetie.” He drew me to him and kissed each hardened nipple. His scratchy bristles gave my goosebumps goosebumps. I shivered.

“I’m hungry,” he said. “Think I’ll eat you for breakfast.” He threw off the covers and slid his body down until the thick black curls atop his head were all I saw between my thighs.

“Uh…can we…uh?” I babbled.

He roughly parted my thighs. Gods, his hands felt strong! The next sound from my mouth was a mewling wail as his hot tongue licked my unhooded bud. I tried to keep quiet, but I couldn’t stop the moans that escaped my lips, growing louder and longer. “Oooh!” I dug my fingers into his ropy curls to wedge his feverish tongue in place. He clutched my curvy ass with both hands. “Aaah! Aaah!” I tried to hold back, but the pleasure swept me away in a flood. Helpless, I was about to shoot my seed… I mean… about to do whatever girls do when they come hard! Oh so hard! I gasped. Heavens and hells, here I go!

I screamed and arched my slender back and felt myself squirt a warm gush of liquid. It splashed everywhere but I was busy writhing in the bed, trying now to push his hungry mouth away because the pleasure overwhelmed me, but he clung to me like a dragon-breaker to a wild newt and wouldn’t budge from the saddle.

My breasts heaved and I screamed and squirted another gush of fluid all over his face and then I came again and again and I lost count as the energy peaked in waves that rocked me from the core of my love-chalice to the crown of my head, screamed because it felt so good that if I didn’t yell I would shatter into smithereens. After what seemed like minutes of drowning in ecstasy, the waves of bliss finally subsided and I came up for air.

I was still panting heavily. “By all the star-faring angels! I’ve never felt anything so… incredible!” I looked at him with amazement. “I had so many orgasms!”

He smiled. “You always do, Sundari. Four, five, six—that’s ordinary for you. That’s why you’re my favorite concubine. Gods, I love it when you come so

hard you scream and squirt.”

I almost asked him how long I’d been a woman. But I knew that made no sense. I had always been a woman. I only thought of myself as a man. Yet even if we had made love like this dozens or hundreds of times before, my rewiring had erased those experiences; I possessed no memory of being a woman. From my perspective as a newfound female, I was a virgin! I wondered how to explain my vulnerability to my lusty bedmate.

“Now I’m going to fuck you good and hard and deep,” he growled. “Exactly as you like it, my slave!” He gave another laugh. His face was shiny wet with my love juice.

Whoa. Too late for the “Technically, I’m a virgin” speech. The intense desire in his dark blue eyes made me feel even more defenseless, like a doe before a crouching dragon. But meanwhile, my womanhood beamed signals to my brain that felt… Oh my goddess! An inviting wetness tingled warmly between my thighs, and the more attention I paid to my arousal the more I craved to have this blue-eyed dragon pounce and ravish me. What a crazy new sensation: I want you INSIDE me!

But oh, he was such a liar! Instead of plunging his beautiful cock deep into me, he chose to play a game of tease, nudging my love-petals open with the swollen head of his plow, but not penetrating fully. I felt so aroused with lust my eyes glazed over.

“What is it, my trembling toy?” he said. “What do you want?”

“Lord, please!” I whimpered. “I need you deep inside me... hurry!” “Let me hear you beg.”

“Oh gods, please, I beg you to fuck me, Sire! I want your strong cock to plow me like the wet earth!”

He pretended indifference and rocked back on his knees. “A while ago, you were perplexed. You thought you were a man.”

“Forgive my confusion, Sire,” I said, breathing hard. “I know now that I am…”

I frowned. Honestly, I still felt like a man. Inside I seemed definitely masculine, but the outside of me was luxuriously feminine. My dripping chalice perfumed the room with a heady fragrance like the sea at low tide.

He tilted his head. “I know how rewiring viruses work, Sundari. You still believe you’re male, don’t you?”

I nodded. “Yes, Sire. But I am happy to find that I am a man in a woman’s body. Your own manhood thrills me, my Lord.”

He leaned back in the bed, drawing away from my yearning. “Yet perhaps I am not of the persuasion to make love with another man. What then, slave?” I shifted myself around to bend over his huge scepter of power that jolted with each beat of his heart. His masculine smell intoxicated me. “But I am of that persuasion, master!”

After that, I couldn’t talk. I was licking, sucking, kissing and nibbling his kingly cock, while my hands stroked its thick shaft and massaged his tightened balls. Pre-cum dribbled onto my eager tongue like milk and honey. After my mouth filled with saliva I pushed my throat down over his shaft until I had

swallowed half the length of his cock. He moaned. I began deep-throating him in a steady rhythm and my throat continued to soften and relax and stretch around his throbbing shaft until I could swallow his meat all the way to the muscular curve of his belly.

My great king moaned and trembled, and I felt the vibrations of his excitement directly through his cock as if it were a divining rod. All of this aroused me so much that I too began to moan and tremble. Of course, my throaty moans stimulated and aroused him even more, so that we were joined in a feedback loop of mutual delight. Such is the wonderful spirit of Eros: to give is to receive.

I continued to deep-throat him in an unhurried steady rhythm of joy. My wetness drizzled down my inner thighs in slippery ribbons.

At the cusp of his climax, he held his breath; his belly tensed and his cock bulged and hardened into stonewood.

“Slave!” he said, urgently. “Let me cum on your pretty face!”

I slid his cock from my mouth and stroked it with both hands and watched with awe as he exploded, bellowing like a bull dragon. Jets of cum shot over my head and dashed on my face and splashed on my tongue. His manhood lurched and bobbed as he pumped his prolific load for nearly half a minute, crying out with each spurt. My fingers were gloved by his warm flowing seed. Finally, while his knees wobbled and he shut his eyes and sighed in ecstasy, I kissed his proud knob and sucked out the last drops of man-nectar, salty and sweet.

“Ring all the bells of heavens and hells!” he whispered and fell onto his back in the giant featherbed. “Sundari, I think even if you really were a man, you could drive me crazy with lust for you!”

I snuggled next to him and it took several minutes for his heaving chest to calm. The room smelled like dark, yeasty bread dough and the fragrant fungi of stonewood forests. I felt happy that I had brought my king such pleasure, but my love-chalice still ached with sexual longing as if it had a mind of its own.

Fortunately, it did not have to wait long. While a manservant quietly entered the bedroom and lit a log fire in the stone fireplace, the king’s warm strong hands lazily stroked the sweeping curves of my ass. By the time the flames were blazing and the servant had exited, my king’s desire was likewise ablaze again.

He rose to his knees. “What must one do in the presence of royalty?” I smiled. “One must bow.”

“Get onto your knees and forearms, facing away from me. Kowtow for your king!”

He commanded and I obeyed, bending low with my ass jutting upward. “Ah, the view from here is so lovely, my very beautiful slave!”

Already I was richly wet and he did not need to start slowly, nor did he care to. With his first thrust, he pinned himself to me with his long thick bolt,

driving all the way to my cervix. I swooned. Now it was my turn again to ride the irresistible waves of bliss.

By false memories I knew the male pleasure of penetrating a woman. But I had forgotten the woman’s pleasure of being impaled! I felt so opened, so filled

inside by his loving shaft, each forward thrust kissing the inmost core of my womanhood and my firm ass shaking with every collision as he rammed into me again and again. The wet sounds of smacking flesh and our moans and cries added fuel to our raging fire. Over and over he nailed me to him and the urgency of my pleasure mounted so high that I began bucking my hips backward to slam us together even harder. His cock was breaking me apart but it felt so insanely good I wanted him to split me in half.

When he edged up on his climax, he cried out a string of High Speech curse words that turned into the roar of a volcano as he erupted inside me. My own screams rivaled a soprano’s high notes as my rapture melted me into shuddering flesh.

I collapsed beneath his weight and wept a few tears from the tremendous emotional release. My king eased his cock out of my swollen love-chalice. Some of his cum leaked out and he caught it in his palm. I took his hand and lapped up the creamy puddle like a little dragon cub. Yum! I felt like purring.

With our lust momentarily spent, the king and I rested on our sides facing one another. He gazed into my eyes a long while, then met my lips in an enduring and loving kiss. It felt wonderful, but I nearly pulled back in the middle of his embrace, for surely it is unseemly for a king to devote such affection to a mere sex slave.

The king chuckled softly at my discomfort and kissed me with renewed passion, our tongues caressing like two swans necking. I felt his stalk rise like green bamboo seeking the twin suns.

It felt so new to experience myself as the one who is mightily desired. All my male “memories” were of being the more active partner who initiated lovemaking, while my female lovers were the more passive partners whose main role in our erotic play was to trigger my lust. Females were the fragrant rose-trees and males were the flittering rose-tree birds lured by the flowers’ intoxicating scent. Yet, here I was: the rose-tree! The spice of my chalice perfumed the bedroom. It excited my king and his desire for me excited me.

“I have yet to ravish all of you, my pleasure slave.” He gently touched my nether-hole with a finger and kept it there.

Instantly his words and touch awoke my senses and I felt a rush of energy to the place where his finger rested. But my eagerness mixed with worry. Had we managed such lovemaking before? Could his huge cock really fit inside me there? “Sire, have we… Can I… accommodate you?”

“Oh yes, Sundari. Indeed, you have always thrilled to open your most private hole to me.” He flashed a grin and reached for a ruby jar in a cubby of the headboard. “Trust me; you’ll see how much you enjoy it.”

He arranged me on my knees and forearms again, this time with my hips supported by fat pillows, my firm round ass propped high and aimed toward the blaze in the fireplace. The hot breath of the flames felt nice dancing over my bare cheeks, but my nether-hole felt so vulnerable, which made me both excited and anxious. The timid part of me considered pleading for sympathy: “Have mercy, Sire. Understand that I am but a virgin.” But the animal part of me had me flushed with yearning. Obviously, I wanted to go all the way with this, why else was I dripping wet?

I searched my implanted male “memories” to see if I had any know-how about this way of erotic intimacy, but I could not recall having ever experienced it—from either end of the cock.

“Relax, little one,” he said. “I always start slow and easy.” He softly rubbed a dense, slippery lubricant over my ‘most private hole’. Then one finger began unhurriedly massaging, around and around the wrinkled exterior flesh. Ah. It did feel good. He eased a lubricated fingertip just inside the ring of strong muscles and continued circling round, working in more lubricant and gently but firmly coaxing the muscles to relax. Ahhhh! It was beginning to feel very good.

I could sense the muscle ring releasing tension as my hole stretched wider. He attended to my flesh as patiently as a monk at devotions. Time slowed down. As if we had joined in meditation I noticed our breathing had become aligned and full, with mutual inhalations and exhalations. Eventually, my king had three large fingers inserted deeply in me along with plenty of lubricant. There had never been any pain, just deeper and deeper relaxation to the point where my whole body now was sighing from the pleasure of his interior massage.

He carefully withdrew his fingers and my belly tensed with anticipation. He stepped around in front of me and handed me the ruby jar of lubricant. “Do me the honor, my puppet.”

I smiled nervously as I coated his veiny cock with clear gel. My slippery fingers stroked up and down his throbbing shaft and he shivered. His manhood grew thicker and taller and darkened in color, the purplish knob as fat a mushroom. Yikes! How in the seven worlds was he going to fit that proud beast inside my tightest hole?

“Sundari, don’t fret, I already know you love it,” he said encouragingly. “I mean, really love it. It drives you wild.”

He climbed back in bed and knelt behind me and the feather mattress sank from his weight. I did feel fiendishly aroused. My nether-hole was warm and open and welcoming, yet I gasped when the blood-hot head of his cock gently touched me there.

“Relax, I’ll not plunge into you,” he said. “I shall hold perfectly still and grant you complete control. Now just lean back and settle onto my cock at your own pace.”

Despite the butterflies in my stomach, I needed no prompting. The touch of his cock against my nether hole triggered a deep longing in my gut like the ache my love-chalice had felt earlier. It seems that my nether-hole also has a mind of its own.

I pressed back and downward against him, slowly, slowly; concentrating on relaxing and opening. I settled onto him and his cock impaled me, stretching me wide until all at once his head slipped fully inside, past my inner ring of muscle. Oh gods! I loudly sucked in my breath. The intense sensations swept through me in an edgy mix of pleasure and pain that felt impossibly horny. I kept pushing down onto his cock until its full thick length reamed me as my round ass

met his lap. “All the gods and goddesses! I am so fucked by you, my king! I am fucked so deep!”

My emotional surrender carried me beyond myself. I rocked my ass

forward to lift up from his cock and paused when I felt its big head just inside my entrance; then I slowly slid back down, skewering myself with such exquisite pleasure that my arms spontaneously floated above my head in a graceful kind of ballet. This way of lovemaking required deeply intimate, feminine submission. It seemed I had abandoned my masculine soul; my whole self was now a glad thrall, his grateful dancer.

I began to rock my hips in a faster rhythm and my pleasure built into a flowing swell, an uprising tide. I felt mad for more of this soul-melting pleasure— to be fucked in the core of my gut by this mighty king. My relaxation was complete and I was ready for all he could give me.

“Fuck me deep, my Lord! I need you to fuck me so hard!”

But instead of complying, he withdrew his cock to my pouting outer ring. “Slave, you’re sure you want my cock, deep and hard?”

I squirmed. “Oh, yes. Please, Sire! I am a craven anal whore, and I didn’t even know it!”

“Well, here my cock stands at stiff attention. Help yourself to all that you crave!”

I needed no extra encouragement. I shoved myself forcefully down into his lap, lifted off and then slammed down on his lap again. I began rocking and humping with great gusto, and to my surprise, I felt myself open and surrender even further, until I was grinding my nether-hole against the root of his cock and hammering him so hard we were sinking into the feather bed.

When I began to pant my king shifted his position and started to meet me with his own vigorous thrusts so that each thudding collision of our bodies shook my ass cheeks and I felt the impact vibrate the swollen bud of my clitoris. Lust had transformed us both into grunting dragons.

“I’m going to make you cum!” he yelled. “Make you cum down deep inside your pretty asshole!”

I wanted to say, “Oh, yes! Make me cum, Lord!” but all I could do was grunt and pant. I collapsed forward on my face and reached back and grabbed my ass cheeks, stretching them wide. I was his slave; I was pure submission. A tightly coiled emotion and hidden power stirred and suddenly unleashed from the very core of me and I screamed with the violence of my climax and I was then a body of all light and all orgasm. The blissful howls of my king and my own wails of ecstasy were muted underwater in a sea of joy.

Moments later, when I was ready to inhabit the world of the bedroom again, I found the two of us entangled in each other’s sweaty arms. Our heavy breathing calmed and we lay together without speaking for a long while.

“Your words were so true, my king,” I said at last. “That way of lovemaking turns me into a lustful fiend. I had no idea!”

His face took on an odd expression. I could not read his feelings. I gulped. “Have I not pleased you, my lord?”

“Oh, yes.” He kissed my forehead where some of his cum had crusted. “You’ve pleased me most wonderfully.” He hesitated. “I suppose now that our morning’s love play is complete, I can make you privy to the secret.”

“Sire?”

He stood on the floor and pulled aside the embroidered tapestry that draped the giant painting over the head of the bed. An oil portrait of a royal couple gazed out from the gilded frame: the king and queen, both dressed in splendorous armor as Seven-Nine-One warriors. In the portrait, the queen’s wavy red hair spilled out from under her gleaming platinum helmet.

“You are not my love slave, Sundari,” the king said. “I am King Eryk and you are my queen. I share with you the rule of Seven-Nine-One, and I cherish you with all my heart.” He offered me his warm, strong hand. “Queen Sundari, let us get the techs to reset your Net-frazzled brain.”

I sat there, stunned. In the time it takes to awaken from a dream I had been promoted from sex slave to queen of seven inhabited planets with nine inhabited moons, and one off-limits world filled with sentient dragons. “Eryk!” I glanced at the tapestry tossed on the bed. “Why?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know…” He looked down, embarrassed. “I think… I think it is because I really like the way we have sex when we’re…you know…when we’re not equals—when I’m the master and you’re the slave. See, uh… we’ve done this before. You just can’t remember.”

I stood up and snuggled against his tall, heavy-muscled physique. My head aligned with his dark brown nipples and I lightly bit one. “Sire, I don’t have to pick up a Net virus for us to play erotic power games. I love being your ‘quivering little sex toy’.” I reached around and grabbed his muscular ass and squeezed it. “It thrills me to submit to you as your pleasure slave, my handsome Master.”

“Ah. That’s very good to know, dear,” he said, “I’ll tell the techs on New Bangkok not to infect you with any more viruses.”

Then he flashed an apologetic smile—a crooked, masculine grin that said, Sorry. I’m a rogue and I can’t help it—but hey, I’m an adorable rogue. And his dumb magic actually worked on me, for my husband, the warrior king, was as sexy as all the heavens and hells.