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Phucked by the Phocomelus	By : JayDee Category: A through F > Dr. Bloodmoney, or How We Got Along After the Bomb Views: 3429 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own "Dr. Bloodmoney, or How We Got Along After the Bomb", nor any of the characters. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Phucked by the Phocomelus
- 1
Bonny Keller’s claimed role as a dutiful wife was somewhat at odds with her favorite activities. Her husband had no knowledge of the many other men who’d humped and spurted between her welcoming thighs. Nor did he know that their child was really Gill’s. Having neither energy nor inclination for much sex, he believed Bonny satisfied by her pre-war vibrator. As a happy, sexual, woman Bonny did enjoy the toy; but the superior pleasure of the vibration function had long ceased when the power failed. After a string of less than satisfying encounters with sundry male inhabitants of Marin County, Bonny felt a nostalgic urge for her old toy to shake anew. If anybody had batteries it would be the local Handy, Hoppy, who was said to be able to get anything working. She was pretty sure he wouldn’t hand them over just so that she could get a thrill, and resolved to "borrow" some.
It was surely desperation that drove her to brave the workshop of the increasingly unbalanced phocomelus. Though limbless, Hoppy was quite capable of defending himself. He had at his disposal both the prehensile metal cables of his self-improved phocomobile and, secretly, increasingly powerful psychokinetic abilities. The comely Bonny greedily waited for him to leave his workshop on a scheduled maintenance round, but noting her in the trees he only wheeled a short distance before returning. He reached the doorway as Bonny was just about to claim her loot.
"You should have grabbed the lithium batteries over there. They’d last you a lot longer and I can recharge them easier."
The zinc-carbon batteries Bonny had found clattered from her hand, and rolled across Hoppy’s bench. She choked back a shocked yelp at his unexpected appearance,
"Hoppy! I was just borrowing them, that’s all. I would have brought them back…"
He wheeled towards her; Bonny looked from side to side, all too aware that there was no way out except past the creepy smile of the phocomelus.
"What do you want them for?"
"I…" Bonny stammered out the truth, "I wanted them for my vibrator."
"Oh. Great. So you’d have brought them back after stuffing them in your cunt?"
Bonny winced at Hoppy’s use of the most taboo, the rudest, of the words she knew – barely heard even during her pre-war visits to San Francisco. He was angry, that was for sure. What had she expected, though? As she sought a calming reply, an unseen force caught the hem of her dress and pulled it up hard. Taking her arms high for a moment, Bonny felt the warm workshop air slide across her bared skin.
"Hoppy! What are you… No! Please, No!"
Hoppy’s cables shot from the phocomobile like harpoons, wrapping Bonny’s arms and legs from fingers and toes almost to her torso. As he lifted her from the spotlessly clean floor, Bonny prepared for a heartfelt scream of terror. She barely even felt the hard coils around her limbs in her panic, but her captor had no intention of allowing her a scream. Another cable, rubberized and slimmer, slid perfectly between her bloodless lips and brutally plugged her throat. She gagged hard, convinced she might vomit, as Hoppy moved the saliva shiny rubber in and out of her throat roughly.
Her panties stained bright yellow as Bonny pissed herself. The strong flow dribbled through the thin fabric and stained Hoppy’s floor several feet below. She wished fervently that she’d just found a way to buy batteries off him. He brought her close, looking directly into her teary eyes. Below, his phocomobile’s front panel opened away from his body. Toilet tubes withdrew from him with a smell of disinfectant, and Bonny saw Hoppy’s malformed, lumpy organ stiffly erect between the smooth flesh where a normal man would have legs. She screamed into the gagging rubber, trying desperately to make Hoppy show mercy. She liked, no, loved cock, but nothing could make her desire Hoppy’s.
"I know what you need, Bonny. They’ve got a much more powerful battery powering them…"
Her stomach lurched as Hoppy brought her down until the sun kissed skin of her breasts was pressed around his cock. The same unseen force, his psychokinetic abilities, groped her breasts with cruel force. She was too intent on the Hoppy mentally wrapping her breasts around his cock to hear the sloppy dipping of two of the larger cables in a nearby tub of industrial lubricant. There was nothing she could have done anyway.
Bonny had known hard sex before, but nothing so painfully brutal as the sudden cold metal intrusion into her pussy. Her piss soaked panties had no chance, and lodged virtually in her cervix on the end of the cable. She was allowed no time to get used to the intrusion; Hoppy began fucking her hard, making sure this cable’s light ridges squeezed past her clitoris on each thrust. To Bonny’s horror she felt growing pleasure, even when Hoppy began working the second cable a touch more gently into her asshole.
She grabbed the quick breaths she was allowed. From somewhere in her mind emerged the thought of how weird she must look, suspended above the limbless Hoppy, a thrusting cable in three different orifices, and her oft admired breasts wrapped around his mutated cock. Completely helpless, completely at his mercy; hating herself for it, Bonny’s arousal grew. She was repulsed by Hoppy, enraged at her rape, and certain she was going to come. Hoppy did first. His organ did not squirt, but wetly oozed a sticky mess across her breasts. Effectively on autopilot, Hoppy’s cables built speed until Bonny’s eyes rolled up and, shaking with self-disgust and sexual climax, she gratefully blacked out.
Bonny awoke in the woods nearby, sore, cleaned, dressed, and with a gift of freshly charged lithium batteries in her hand.
The memories were raw; she doubted they would ever fade. Fresh tears stained her face and, weeping, she threw the batteries to the dirt, and stumbled homewards.

A/N: This chapter written for AFF forum weekly prompt 50 - Lithium.

You've read this far. Please review. Speaking of reviews... Dr Bloodmoney is worth a read but it isn't Dick's best work by a long chalk.
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Phucked by the Phocomelus