Thistledown Chapter 3

Thistledown

Jay’s Story: The House of Joy

At the outer edge Cinrada, I came to a large house surrounded by extensive gardens: some formal, some serene, some riotous and wild, some redolent with the scent of but a single type of flower, some a symphony of aromas from a hundred types of flowers. Yet others held flowers of but a single color, while in some a symphony of different hues and colors caught the eye. I wandered through the gardens and in one I saw a bio female carrying a basket filled with plants.


I approached the female, whom I thought to be perfect for my purposes. I erected my linking rod, grabbed her by the arm… and found myself flat on my back, looking up at branches tracing lacy patterns against the sky. Something pressed hard on my storage sacks causing a most unpleasant sensation: I looked over to see the female with one of her bare feet placed on top of them.

“I can bust your balls, you know,” the female said, pushing down harder with the heel of her foot. “What is the meaning of your attack on me? Better be telling me the truth, or you will be feeling a lot of pain. Speak up and be quick!”

She increased the pressure on what she called balls –an apt name considering their shape –and the sensation went from unpleasant to very uncomfortable. If that sensation was pain, I did not like it at all. I thrust upward hard and fast with my hips, and she went down on her back in the black loam. I stood up and going over to her, placed a foot between her legs and pressed down with my heel. I wanted her to feel the same discomfort I had felt when she pressed down on my balls. I pushed down harder when I felt her move in an attempt to get away. I moved my foot back and forth, thinking to increase her discomfort. After a while she screamed, arched her back, and shuddered violently. Concerned that I had caused her too much pain, I removed my foot from her body and knelt down beside her.

“If I liked men, I would reward you in a very special way,” she said. “You have given me a whole new technique to use on my clients. Help me up, will you?” She grasped my hand and I pulled her up.

“I did not cause you pain?” It puzzled me that she had liked what I had done. At that time, I knew nothing about bio sex and the sensations of pleasure the females felt when they were touched in certain ways on their linking organs. “You enjoyed what I did?”

“Yes, I enjoyed it, you silly man,” she said grinning at me. “You knew that all the time, didn’t you? Could you help me with getting these plants in the ground?”


Thus I found myself on my knees digging in the rich loam, and I placed the plants where she told me, loving their varied aromas and the beauties of their colors and leaf shapes. I worked all that day in the garden with the female and when the light turned red was shown a small hut in which I could spend the night.

“What is the name of this place?” I asked.

“This is the House of Joy,” she said with a smile.

In the evening, the House of Joy came to life with song, laughter and the sounds of pleasure. Sweet smelling torches lit the gardens, lighting the way for strolling couples, and even the occasional single person. I knelt on the soft grass in the darkness behind a rough barked tree with pendant branches covered with purple tinged leaves and clusters of tiny blue flowers that glowed in the dark like tiny stars.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” said a soft female voice. “Do you mind if I sit here beside you for a while?”

“You can sit where you wish,” I said. “And yes the flowers are beautiful.” I looked in her direction. The light from a distant torch limned her tall, thin form, and made of her hair a flaming aureole around her head.

“You are new here,” she said. “I have not heard your voice before. You have a nice voice. It is very musical. Do you sing?”

“I have never heard of singing. How is it done?”

She laughed. “You have never heard of singing? Where have you lived? This is how it is done.” She spoke a series of words in a pleasant rhythm and at differing levels of pitch. Sometimes she would draw out one of the words, or even a part of a word; sometimes she would say a grouping of words very quickly together. She leaned forward and taking my hand in her’s, placed it against her throat, so that I could feel the vibrations. I recorded everything to memory for later study.

“Are you a client or One Who Serves?” she asked of me.

“I work in the gardens,” I said. I breathed in the light, sweet scent of her, and had just decided that she would be the perfect female for my first attempt at changing a bio into a synth… when a voice called out from the house. She leaped to her feet and ran off.


The next day I worked in the gardens at tasks set me by the female who seemed to be in charge. I enjoyed the work I did in the gardens; it gave me a sense of peace and well being, and most of all a sense of purpose. Concentrating on the plants and the soil in which they grew dulled the ever-present pressure from the program that compelled me to return to the Center with a female bio.

I was picking the red ripe fruit from a twisted little tree and placing it in a large basket as I had been instructed when a warm pair of hands cupped my buttocks. Before I could speak or turn around to see who stood behind me, one of the hands moved between my legs and squeezed the storage sacks holding the prepared synthec machines. To my shock and surprise, my linking rod shot upwards to lie hard against my lower belly. I was shocked because I thought I had better control over the organ than that, and for a moment I feared that I would spew out a flood of synthec for all to see.

“Turn around and let me have a look at you,” said a beautifully musical voice behind me. The hand between my legs gently caressed my storage sacks and then withdrew. “I’d like to see if the front of you is as attractive as the back.”

I turned to see a small bio female with skin as black as midnight, clad in a knee length flowered gown. The skin on her face was as wrinkled as the bark of the tree I stood beside –I would learn that among bios this wrinkling of the skin meant that the bio had lived a long time –and her merrily twinkling eyes were a deep, dark green. They gazed slowly over my body.


“Ah,” she sighed as her eyes lit on the colorful display between my legs. “Oh my, you must be very popular with the women where you come from.” She reached out a slim hand and ran a single red-nailed finger up and down my linking rod. I groaned as another of those flashes of pleasure went through me. “Do they scream in pleasure when you enter them? Do they leave claw marks on your back when they reach the height of passion?”

“I do not know those things,” I said. “I have never yet been with a female in that way.”

“A virgin,” she breathed out the word in awe. “Such a beautiful man and still a virgin. You are not one of those who gets his pleasure from other men?”

I told her I was not and that I had never placed my linking rod inside either man or woman or any other living creature. She smiled at that and nodded. Then she leaned over and placed a soft kiss on the top of my linking rod. I moaned softly as yet another wave of pleasure went through me.

"You like that, do you?" She murmured, and wrapped a slender hand around my linking rod and moved it slowly up and down. Continuous waves of pleasure flowed through me with every movement of her hand, and if I thought I had any control over my linking rod, I lost it totally at that point. The silver and golden connector pins in the tip slid upwards and locked into place; and the oily liquid carrying the trillions of synthec machines spurted out through the opening in the middle.

The female let go of my linking rod and jumping back, her eyes widening in surprise. "What are you?"

“You do not know what I am?” She shook her head and delicately touched the connector pins with a forefinger sending quivers up my spine. “I am a synth. Surely you have seen one of my kind before?” I gained enough control of my linking rod to have the connector pins slide back into their resting-places.

“I have never heard of a being called a synth before this,” she said. “You are a very interesting thing with a most fascinating male organ. Those things coming out the top would make having sex with you interesting. I’d love to have you work in the House for me.” She held out her hand. “I’m Shonata, owner of the House of Joy. And you…?”

I took her hand in mine. I did not have a name. “I am the Guardian,” I said. “And what sort of work must I do inside your house? I love working in these gardens and would rather remain among the plants given the choice.”

“You will be able to do both,” she said with a smile. “The work I hope you will do for me in the House will be mostly evening and night work, and you will find it most pleasant. If you will come with me?”

I followed Shonata through the gardens and into the coolness of the large house. We entered through the backdoor, which stood open to allow the cooling breeze to blow through, and into a large kitchen. Two identical young males sat at one of the long tables set beneath a row of open windows. They spoke quietly together, and nibbled on pieces of fruit from a wooden bowl on the table. Shonata walked over to them.

“Shemi, you go and find Nemesia,” Shonata said. “Tell her I have someone who is in need of instruction.” She turned to the other male. “Shami, you take our friend here to one of the empty suites and get him settled. Be quick about it now!”

The male Shami led me to the sunset wing of the house. It was so named because one could observe the changing of the light into the gold and reds of sunset, and the coming of the deep dark of night. He opened a blue painted door, leading me into a sitting room, decorated in blue and gold. Two deep blue chairs and a small, intricately carved table stood by a fireplace with flowers set on the mantle. To my right, stood a long couch piled high along the back with loose pillows, and more pillows lay on the floor around it. In front of me, I saw a large double door. Two very large vases stood on either side of it. Shami opened door: I stepped through into a room which held only one very large bed, on which lay a plethora of pillows in all shapes and sizes in every tone of gold one could imagine. Under the pillows I could see furs: white, beige, and a rich reddish brown; and trailing down from the foot end onto the floor, a quilted cover made from tiny patches of blue in many shades.

“You can wait here or in the other room,” said Shami. “Nemesia will be along soon.” He ran his eyes over my body. “Those colors, are they a tattoo?”

“The colors just are,” I said. “I do not understand tattoo. Explain if you will.”

“I can show you, if you don’t mind looking at a bare butt for a few moments,” he said, and pulled down the voluminous white trousers he wore. On his buttocks swirling patterns of black and red made an eye-catching display. He pulled up the trousers. “That is a tattoo and it is made by placing colored inks under the skin using needles. I didn’t have the whole thing done all at once, mind you.”

“Is there someone here who is in need of some instruction?” called out a familiar sounding female voice from the other room.

“He’s in here, and he’s quite a handsome one,” called out Shami. “I think you will enjoy instructing this one a lot. He doesn’t swing my way.”

A tall, thin female stepped into the room. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Shami, you showed him your tattoo. And he didn’t bite?”

“I would never bite anyone,” I said. “And certainly not on the buttocks.”

“You! The man from last night, who didn’t know about singing,” she said. Her eyes caressed me from the top of my head down to my toes. “Shami is right; you are a handsome one. I will enjoy teaching you the basics of the arts of the bed chamber.”

Shami stood in the doorway: “I’ll be away and leave you alone. You’d better be ready to tell me everything later, Nem.” Laughing he ran out the door.

“Mistress Shonata tells me that you are still a virgin,” she said. “I’m Nemesia, and considered to be an expert at making virgin men feel at ease and helping them lose their virginity. And your name is?”

“I am Guardian,” I said. I wondered about this virginity and why it was so important to lose it. “I have a question for you. Why is it so important that I lose this thing you call virginity, and what is it?”

“That is two questions,” she said with a smile. “Well, you are a virgin until you have sex with a woman. Is it important that you lose it? No it isn’t and there are many people, both men and women, who never do. However, you will be working here and you will need to know how to give pleasure to a woman. I’m here to show you the basics. Shall we begin?”

She undid the fastenings of the white robe she wore and let it slide down to the floor. She stood still and gave me a chance to look her over. This was the first time I had seen a nude bio female. I sat down on the bed and studied her. She was tall and lean to the point of being thin. From her chest protruded two small mounds. I touched the pink tip of one with a forefinger.

“What are these things on your chest?” I asked.

“They are called breasts,” she said. “Didn’t you know that? They are for feeding a baby, when a woman has one. The breasts produce milk and it comes out here,” she touched one of the pink tips, “when the baby sucks on it.”

I did not know any of the things she spoke of, but thought it best not to ask more questions. I continued my perusal of her body. The journey of my eyes ended at the place where her long legs met her body and what lay between. In appearance it looked nothing like mine, being a mere slit. Seeing where my eyes gazed, she opened the slit and revealed a structure that reminded me of some of the pink, sweet smelling flowers in the gardens. I leaned forward and let my smell sensor take in her aroma. She did not smell like the flowers. She had the rich pleasing odor of loamy soil with a spicy overtone.

She moved her hands, letting the slit close, and sat down beside me. “Shall we begin? Why don’t you show me your kissing technique?”

“Kissing?”

“This,” she said, and taking my face between her hands placed her mouth on mine. It felt strangely damp and I could feel her tongue pushing at my lips and teeth. I was relieved when she moved her mouth away. She was not finished with the kissing, however.

“You have to open your mouth,” she said. “And put your tongue inside mine. Shall we do it again?”

This time when she placed her mouth against mine, I opened it and she slipped her tongue inside. She touched my tongue with her’s and explored the inside of my mouth. I did not care for the feel of her wet tongue inside my mouth. Just as I wanted to pull away, her tongue withdrew; and returned, touching mine. I pushed my tongue into her mouth and explored it the way she had explored mine. The inside of her mouth was as wet as her tongue. I pulled away.

“I do not like this kissing,” I said.

“If you want to please the ladies, you will have to get used to kissing,” she said. “Your mouth is very dry. Maybe you should have a drink of water?”

“No. No. I am a synth,” I said. “Synths do not eat or drink.”

“Every living thing needs food and water. How can you say you don’t eat or drink?” Her blue eyes were puzzled, as she looked me in the face.

“I am not like living things. I am made of little machines. I am a synthetic life form. A synth.”

“Whatever you are, I have to teach you how to pleasure a woman. We’ll continue with the kissing.”

We kissed for a long time: at first, she kissed me, and later I learned to kiss her. She showed me special little tricks such as softly biting her lower lip with my teeth. I added a twist of my own, licking her lips before crushing my mouth down on hers, which she truly enjoyed.

“Now we’ll go on to caressing,” she said, satisfied that I could give a passable kiss. “Upper body first, beginning with the back, face, arms and breasts. Usually caressing is done together with kissing, but for now, we’ll do each thing separately. Come closer and put your arms around me.”

She moved further onto the large bed and stretched out on her side. I moved to lie by her side and carefully put an arm around her with my fingers lightly touching her back. She rolled against me and placed my other arm around her, so that I held her lightly in place. I shivered as her arms went around me and her hands rested on my back.

“Are you cold?” she said. I indicated no with a slight movement of my head. “This is how you caress. Use a light touch and long, slow strokes.”

She ran her hands lightly and slowly down and up my back. Her touch was fire and ice, and the intense pleasure sent me off into ecstasy. I made small, murmuring sounds of pleasure as she continued her stroking. I began to caress her back in turn, echoing the strokes she used on me. She moved beneath my touch like grass in the wind and made sounds of pleasure similar to mine. Her strokes became longer, sliding along my buttocks and touching the back of my thighs. I let my strokes echo hers again. She quivered as my hands gently cupped her firm bottom before moving on.

“I think you caress very well,” she sounded breathless. “Let’s go on to caressing the front of the body, and body kissing. We’ll start with the breasts. Some women love it when a man caresses their breasts and others don’t like it all that much. For myself, I don’t care for having my breasts touched. However, for the purposes of your lesson, I’ll put up with being touched there.”

She took hold of my hands and placed them on top of each of the mounds on her chest. They were firm and the pointy parts in the middle formed hard nubs under my palm. I did not know what to do beyond lightly holding on to them. To be truthful, I wanted to explore the flower between her legs more. I grew impatient to get to the linking part of what we were doing. All this preparation took entirely too long. I let one hand slide along her body toward the slit that hid the lovely flower; and she halted its progress before it reached the intended target.

“No you don’t,” she said. “We aren’t ready for that part yet. Here is how you caress the breasts.” She demonstrated the technique on herself. “You may think of variations. Let’s see how you do.”


I began by using the technique she showed me, but that did not feel right to me; so I used my own method of caressing her breasts. I ran a forefinger very slowly, just barely touching her skin, in a spiral over each breast until I reached the dark pink pointy middle. Then I slowly spiraled outward again, and inward till my fingers rested lightly in the middle.


“What are these pointy things called?” I gently touched one.

“Those pointy things are called nipples,” she said with a laugh. “You have them too.” She looked at my chest. “No, you don’t have any. That is strange.” I did not tell her that the males of the bio species I was patterned after had no nipples. It was not important after all.

She was becoming as impatient as I was, for she went on quickly to the next activity. She pushed me over on my back and proceeded to plant quick kisses all over the front of my body. Each kiss caused a small burst of concentrated sensation in the spot where it landed, and I groaned with the pleasure of it. She signaled my turn by rolling over onto her back. I planted the same light kisses all over her body. To my delight, when I reached the area of her linking organ, she opened her legs and allowed me access to its wonders.

I gently caressed the outer surface, and as I did so, a new program activated in me and I felt a great urge to link. My linking rod wanted to rise into its erect position. I prevented it from doing so by sheer force of will. I opened her with both hands and feasted visually on her rosy pink flower. She took one of my hands and placed it on her flower. She moaned, as I let my fingers explore the slick surfaces beneath them. I discovered two nubs, which caused her to arch her back at first, then relax with a shuddering sigh, when touched individually. Rubbing both nubs softly at the same time elicited a powerful response: her hips bucked violently against my hand, and she groaned so loudly that I was certain that everyone living in the house heard. Then she shivered from head to toe, and the bucking of her hips slowed, and with a series of drawn-out sighs, returned to a quiescent state.

Just below those very interesting nubs, I found the linking place. I slipped a finger inside its slick depths and felt the echo of the swift beating of her heart. My linking program went into overdrive. My linking rod erected. I moved into position between her legs and pushed my linking rod into her linking place. For a long moment, I did not move as I took in the feel of her heat and softness wrapped around my linking rod. I let the program take over, and began to move within her. As I thrust slowly back and forth inside her, I rubbed against the two nubs, and got the same violent response. I almost lost my position inside her with the first hard upward motion of her hips; but I grasped her buttocks in my hands and held her in place. Her bucking became a series of stroking movements, which were combined with a series of hard muscular contractions in her linking tube. All these things together set off waves of pleasure of ever increasing, power all centered on my linking rod.

Once more I lost control and with a loud groan spewed my synthec machines into her. I pulled out, frightened by what I had just done. I had planned on being in a more private place when I first put my machines inside a bio female, so that if something went wrong no one but me would know. In this place, if something went wrong… I feared what the bios might do to me.

“No need to look so scared,” Nemesia said with a smile. “You were absolutely wonderful. In fact, I would like to do it again.”

We did just that, and it was even more pleasant than the first time. I brought her to one last bucking, quaking climax, and after stretching every inch of herself, she moved off the bed. Picking up the robe, she wrapped it around herself and walked over to the closed doors, opened them, and stepped through into the next room. I followed quickly, concerned about what my synthec might be doing inside her. The machines were programmed to take the stuff that made up her flesh and turn it into machines like those which made up my own body. It was an experiment, this creation of a synth out of a bio, and I was not at all certain that it would work.


Shami sat in one of the dark blue chairs, legs crossed, gently swinging the upper foot. He grinned at Nemesia and me, as we walked into the sitting room. He uncrossed his legs, arose from the chair and bowed deeply in front of me.

“You must be very good,” he said. “I’ve not heard her be so loud since…”

“Don’t you dare say it!” Nemesia punched hard against his arm. “Don’t you dare!”

Shami’s eyes twinkled and an even bigger grin appeared on his face. “Not since the fat boy: the one that had to be carried in by four brawny giants of men. I had a look at the height of the action; the fat boy had one of his large, thick fingers inside her, and she bucked and groaned as loud as she had just now.” He said. “I kept watching as he lifted her up, the fat boy was surprisingly strong for someone who could not move under his own steam, and impaled her on his immense organ. If dear Nem had been noisy before, at that point she outdid herself. I believe that fat boy will be paying us a visit again very soon and he has asked for you?”

Nemesia nodded at him. She flushed a pale pink. “You know that he always asks for me,” she said softly. “I would feel slighted if he didn’t. I must be going. I want a meal and a bath before my first client comes. Why don’t you two entertain each other for a while?”

“I’ll come with you,” said Shami. “I have a client coming soon as well.”

They went out arm in arm, leaving me alone. I paced around the room, touching various pieces of fine pottery. I went back into the bedroom, which still bore the musky, loamy aroma of Nemesia, and looked out the open window. A green sward, sloping down to a dark green hedge, lay before me; and beyond the hedge, I could see the roofs of many buildings. I heard the click of the door to the hall opening, then soft footsteps. Two hands caressed my buttocks, and one hand slid between my legs, grasped my balls, and squeezed. My linking rod shot upwards. The hand gave one last squeeze and taking hold of my erect organ, worked its wonders.

“How many times in a night do you think you could get that lovely male organ of yours up?” said Shonata’s voice behind me. I groaned as she began sliding her hand up and down the shaft again.

“As many times as is needed,” I said, moaning softly as the intense sensation of pleasure built to a higher peak. “I am a synth and I do not tire like a bio. My linking rod can remain erect indefinitely, if you wish it to be so. For this pleasure I would do anything you ask.”

“Anything?” She mused. The pressure of her hand on my linking organ increased and she quickened her strokes. Her other hand went around me and fingered my storage sacks. I felt as if I was going to explode into a trillion pieces of synthec. Instead, I exploded into a million waves of pleasure, my body quivering violently with the power of each wave. “Anything?” She said again. “You will be my star attraction. You’ll make the House of Joy a place of fame.”

Her hands withdrew. “You are free to go where you will for tonight. Tomorrow you’ll have your first client, so be prepared.”

I heard her leave. I quivered with remembered pleasure and my linking rod remained firmly upright. I desired more of that deep pleasure. I took myself in hand and stroked, and soon I exploded into pleasure once more. The light outside the window grew golden, then red, darkness hid the lawn and the hedge, and the city beyond twinkled with lights. I kept on stroking my linking rod, repeatedly exploding violently into pleasure. I was caught in a loop of action and reaction and could not stop.

With the light of morning coming through the window, I remained caught up in the loop. My body shuddered constantly as I continued stroking. The individual waves of pleasure had become one single tsunami of ecstasy. I did not hear her come in, and but dimly heard her voice as Shonata spoke to me.

“You are up early,” she said, looking around me to my front where my hand worked efficiently at its job. “Pleasuring yourself already? You are a lusty one. Do save yourself for your clients, if you will.”

“Help,” I whispered. “Cannot stop… all night… help… please.”

“You have been pleasuring yourself all night long?” She said. “You’re frightening me, and I’m an old woman who isn’t easily frightened. Let’s see if I can help you to stop.”

She turned me so that I faced her, and placed her hands on mine, slowed its constant motion, and stopped it. One by one, she straightened my fingers. No longer being stimulated, my linking organ returned to its non-erect state. Keeping her hold on my hand, Shonata led me from the rooms, out of the house and into the gardens.

“Jumina, this one needs to work long and hard in the gardens for a few days,” Shonata said to a woman cutting flowers. “Hard work, mind you. Didn’t you tell me you had some trees you wanted to move?”

“Yes, I did,” said Jumina. “And with a good strong helper like him, the job will be well at hand.”

For a ten days I worked long hours in the gardens during the day. The nights I spent in the blue rooms, watched over by a giant of a man named Bibano. Whenever I showed signs of wanting to pleasure myself, he would hold my hands in his powerful grip, until the desire passed. Throughout the long nights I reprogrammed parts of myself so that I no longer felt pleasure when I touched my linking rod. After testing out the new programming in some hidden place in the garden, I went to Shonata and told her what I had done.

After a short demonstration, I was pronounced by Shonata to be ready for clients.

Thistledown Chapter 4  (XGC) Jay's first experience with death -second draft #732469 by Petronella60 -on hiatus