The Weapon - Genesis - part 4
By Diana the Valkyrie
A name for The Weapon


"I really need you to have a name, though." "Call me your Weapon." "You know
people even give names to guns, like Betsy, and Big Bertha?" "They do?" "Yes.
And look, suppose you're in another room or something, and I want to call to
you." "Weapon" "I say, Hey, Weapon?" "Why not?" "Well, it sounds wrong. I
mean, it isn't what I'd expect a name to be. It isn't a name, I mean, it isn't
a proper noun, it's a common noun." "So I can't use it?" "Well yes, you can,
but you also need a proper noun. Like Winona the Weapon" "Yuck" "OK, not
that." "And not Bertha. Or Betsy" "How about Wendy?" "Hmmm." "No, it's
perfect, you know? Wendy could fly, you see." "I thought humans couldn't fly?"
"She could. Wendy Darling." "Oh, from Peter Pan!" "Yes, that's right." She
thought for a moment. "I think Wendy is a lovely name. OK, I'm Wendy the
Weapon." "Um. OK. I might also call you Wendy Darling sometimes."

"Now we have to do the Rite of Binding," she said. "Sounds painful," he joked.
"Oh no, not at all. Just the opposite, in fact." "So what's the Rite of
Binding?" he asked. "It's the act that binds the Wielder to the Weapon. Think
of it as like King Arthur and the Sword in the Stone." "I have to pull you out
of a rock?" "No, actually it's more the exact opposite of that." "What do you
mean?" "You don't pull me out of something, you push part of you into
something." "Something?" "Me." "Oh." She smiled, and kissed him again. "And
you're Excalibur?" "No, I told you, I don't have a name. Stop trying to give
me one, I won't accept a name. But you can call me Wendy." "So you do have a
name!" "No, I don't. I don't have a name, even if you call me Wendy." "Ah.
Haddocks Eyes."

"This Rite of Binding, do we, by any chance, need to go upstairs to the
bedroom to do it?" he asked. "Oh no." He looked disappointed. "But that's
certainly a very traditional place to start it." She stood up. "Come on, let's
get weaving."

He followed her up to the main bedroom. "So," he said. "So." He sat on the
bed, and looked up at her. "So." She sat down next to him. "So." "Um." She
sidled up closer to him, and put her hand on his knee. He turned towards her,
and pushed he down on the bed, and started to kiss her. She responded
enthusiastically, closing her eyes and pushing her tongue into his mouth. He
brought his hand up to her waist, and started to pull her sweater up. She
broke the kiss, and said "No, wait. Look." She stood up, and twirled around,
her hair flying out as she spun. And her clothes disappeared.

"What?" he said. "How did you do that?" "Like it?" she asked. "Mmm, yes. Very
nice. But how ...?" She lay down next to him on the bed. "This is not the time
for explanations, Duncan. This is the time for Binding." "You know, you're
very good-looking. I had you pegged as a tubby middle-ager like me. But, well,
now I can see you naked, you look a lot younger than I thought. How old are
you?" "Two" "Two what, decades?" "Two days." "You're two days old?" "Right."
"Never!" "Duncan, I already told you. I'm not one of you folks, I'm ...
something else." "What?" "Please, Duncan? You want a lecture on theoretical
physics or you want to kiss me?" "Mmmm." "Mmmm."

They rolled around on the bed, wrestling until he got her pinned down with his
weight, and he kissed her while he reached towards her well-developed breasts.
The kiss went on until he started to feel both dizzy and aroused; then he
realised that somehow she'd gotten back on top of him, and she was pulling his
shirt off. She sat on his waist, and stroked the soft fur of his chest while
his hands explored her hardening nipples. Then she about-faced and tugged off
his trousers while his hands explored the contours of her back. She lay at
full length on him to get his shoes and socks off, while he stroked her feet
and licked her toes. Then she swung her leg round so that she was facing him
again, and he rolled them so that he was on top again. "You want to be on
top?" she asked. "Isn't that the way?" said Duncan. "There's lots of ways to
Bind, Duncan. We'll try a few of them." "A few?" "There has to be three
Bindings in the Rite." "Three? I'm not sure ..." "Three, Duncan. Rule of
Three" "Yeh, well. I don't think I was up to that even when I was a teenager.
Us forty-somethings are lucky if we can do it once." "Three, Duncan, it has to
be three." "Look, er, Wendy, I don't really thing I'm going to be able to ..."
"Shhh, my Wielder. This is one of the first lessons that you must learn. A man
with a Weapon is more powerful than one without." "Of course." "You no longer
have just your own power, you have mine too." "Ah." "As it says in the oath."
"Oath?" "Later, my sweet. Now, give me your hand." He put his hand in hers,
and she led it down to the tops of her legs. "Feel what I have there?" "Um,
yes. Usual stuff, what?" "Can you feel my arousal?" He felt the slippery
wetness there, and his own arousal grew and hardened. He moved his fingers
around, feeling the warmth and wetness of her, and she arched her back in
response. "Now, my Wielder, now. Enter into me, like the Sword into the
Stone."

He pressed down and forward, and his firm manhood penetrated her soft wetness.
"Ahhhh... " she moaned. Her hands reached up and around his body to caress his
back, and urge him further into her. He needed little encouragement to plunge
himself as deeply into her as he could, then pull back for another stroke.
"Yes, yes" she gasped, and moved to make his strokes more penetrating and
potent. Their movements synchronised as two counterpoised pendulums in the
ancient rhythm of human love; then he began to gasp, her cries came louder and
louder as he rammed her down, she thrust back up, he was grunting loudly now,
and then as his release came like an electric shock, he shouted, she screamed,
their bodies convulsed as the discharge of the orgasm flowed through them.

And then they lay together quietly, her hand rubbing the small of his back,
his mouth in her hair, breathing hard to replenish the oxygen debt of the last
few minutes. "Wow," he said, "wow, that was something, that was really
something, you're really something, something else, wow, wow." "Mmmm," she
said, "hush now, relax. That was the first." "The first?" "The first of the
three," she replied. He was silent for a while. "Look, Wendy, I don't want to
disappoint you, but, well ..." "Hush, Duncan, I can do things that you didn't
expect, can't I." "Yes, but ... " "Trust me, my Wielder, only trust me for a
little while, breathe deep, let your blood cool, let the pounding of your
heart return to normal, then we'll see, then maybe you'll be surprised."

"Tell me about this two days old thing. I don't feel like I'm making love to
an underage human female!" "I'm not a person, I already told you that. I'm a
manufacture." "A what? You mean a robot?" "I don't think this language has a
good word for it." "A cyborg, an android, a machine?" "Those sound to me like
terms of abuse, there's some inbuilt assumption of inferiority there. I'm not
the result of two people mating, I was made, not born, manufactured, but I'm
not a lesser being for that" "In a factory, I suppose?" "Yes, that's right, a
factory is a good word for it. A factory a long long way away. Made by the
Black Hole Folk, assembled, programmed and delivered." "Programmed?" "One
thing at a time, my Wielder. I was completed two days ago and installed here;
that's when I contacted you to become your Weapon." "Assembled? Out of what?"
"My core is four black holes, two of each charge, two of each spin." "So
you're one of the Black Hole Folk?" "No. The Black Hole Folk reproduce by
including additional black holes, then they fission like an amoeba, into two
individuals. Each of those individuals has a copy of all the information that
the original has." "So memory is inherited?" "Memory and to a large degree
personality, the habits of how you do things, how you react, your preferences.
But that wouldn't be right here; if I were one of the Black Hole Folk then I'd
have my own prejudices, my own ideals. I'd be telling you what to do, and it
has to be the other way round, for the sake of your neutrality. So instead of
the usual reproductive process, I was manufactured without any inheritance."

"So, in essence, you're four black holes?" "Yes, but without the billions of
memories of the Black Hole Folk. I was like a clean sheet of paper." "But you
can walk, and talk, and read, and, and, well, do things. You're no newborn
baby!" "That's the programming. I have programmed-in capabilities; simple
stuff like walking and flying, talking and mathematics." "That's not all
simple stuff!" "It is compared to the complex stuff." "What's the complex
stuff?" "Ethics, morals, how to behave, the difficult choices where every
possible decision is wrong but you still have to pick one. Whether a baby is
more important than the mother, whether these six people should live or those
six. That sort of stuff, I can't do that. But you can. That's why I'm the
Weapon, and you're the Wielder." "Do you have a soul?" "I don't know. Do you?"
"I believe I do." "Then do you believe that I do?" "I don't know. You weren't
made by God." "Neither were you, actually. You were made by your parents,
right?" "Well, yes. But. But God was in there somewhere" "So, your making
process was different from mine. Why would that give you a soul but not me?
Why should God be in one process and not in another?" "But do you think you
have a soul?" "Duncan. I don't know. OK? There's a lot of humans don't know,
either. Would you like a coffee?"

"Coffee? No, not right now. I tell you what I would like, though." "Mmm."
"Mmmm." "Mmmmmm." "But you know, my lovely little Weapon, you can forget this
three stuff. I'm completely pooped." "Duncan, you really have to start
trusting me a bit. When I say I'm going to do something, then you should
assume that I'm going to do it." "Yes, but some things can't be done, some
things not even you can do, honey." "The Rite of Binding will teach you three
things. First it will teach you to trust me, second it will teach you that
your power is greater when you have a Weapon." "And third?" "That sometimes
it's better to shut up and do something than to talk about doing something."

She held his limp penis in one hand, and floated in mid-air above him. She
lowered herself slowly onto him. "That isn't going to work because ..."
"Because?" "Because I'm not, you know. Ready." "You're forgetting something
important here." "What?" "I'm not, you know. Human." She lowered herself
another inch, and he felt himself being sucked into her. Her warm wetness
surrounded him, enclosed him, drew him deeper into herself. "Oh!" he
exclaimed. "That's, that's..." "Mmm?" "Impossible." "Mmmm?" "Ahhhhh" "Mmm?"
"Yes!" He was fully inside her now, held stiffly inside by something that
continued to exert suction on his penis. "Ahhh." "Impossible, you said?" and
she squeezed him inside her. "Ahhhh." "Can't be done, eh?" and she released
him slightly, then sucked his penis back inside. "You're not, you aren't." "I
told you, my Wielder, I'm not human, I'm a manufacture, the assumptions you've
always made just aren't relevant for me. Mmm?" "Ahhh." She continued to work
him slowly in and out while her hands caressed his chest and belly like two
feathers, moving and touching, touching and moving, never staying still, under
his neck, into his armpits, all the soft secret places that need to be touched
and squeezed, her skill in this incomparably greater than anything he had
experienced before. "Oh, so good, so wonderful, please, yes, more, and there,
oh yes." She carefully built his passion higher and higher until he exploded
with orgasm inside her, his screaming so loud it would rival a steam whistle,
his orgasm the more intense because of her powerful control over her vagina
and his penis.

"Oh my god. Oh my god." "So, do you think I have a soul, Duncan?" He lay on
his side, his head buried between her soft breasts, his voice a bit muffled.
"You've got anything you want to have, you're the most wonderful weapon a man
could hope for." She stroked his hair and hummed. Suddenly he raised his head
and looked up at her. "Your heart!" "Yes?" "It isn't, I mean, I can't feel.
Oh. Do you, is there ...?" "I don't have a heart, my love. I don't have a lot
of things that you might have expected." "But if you don't have a heart, how
can you feel ..." "I don't have a heart because your heart is for pumping
blood round your body, and I don't have any blood, so I don't really need a
heart, do I? You don't actually feel emotions with your heart, you know,
that's just the way people talk. Some civilisations thought the liver, some
thought the kidneys. It's actually part of your brain that does that. And I do
have a brain, even if it isn't the same hardware as yours, so yes, I can feel
love." "Oh, and do you?" "Duncan, that isn't the way a man speaks to a woman,
is it?"

"No, no, I'm sorry, of course. Well. I think I'm in love with you. Is it OK
for a Wielder to be in love with his Weapon, or is that against all the
rules?" "Is it OK? It's compulsory. And vice versa, of course." "Vice versa?"
"I think I'm in love with you too." "You think?" "It's too soon to be
definite." "Too soon?" "We're only two parts into the Rite of Binding, my
love. Wait till after the third." "The third." "Yes." "OK, I believe you.
You're going to do that to me again." "Not quite." "No?" "No, the third time
is different. Very much so, because at the end of the third, we're bound
together, a Wielder and his Weapon, and we make the Oath to each other."
"Oath?" "The oath of the Weapon and her Wielder." "I don't know the oath, what
do I say." "When the time comes, you'll know." "But ..." "Trust me ..." "You
know, if there's one thing I'm beginning to learn, its that when you tell me
to trust you then I should." "Good. Later on, you'll learn to trust me even
when I don't tell you to." "Mmm."

"Wendy, how did you make your clothes disappear like that?" "Let me explain a
bit more about my construction." "But your clothes ... " "Trust ..." "OK, OK,"
he grinned. "A black hole has a fierce gravitational gradient. If you got
close to a black hole, the tidal forces would tear you apart, because the
gravity is so much greater if you're just slightly nearer. So, the part of you
that was a few inches closer to the black hole is pulled away from the part of
you that is a few inches further. That's the same effect that causes tides in
the planet's oceans, but much much greater. So I have to shield everything
around me from the fierce intensity of my gravitational fields. You *really*
don't want to get too close to me, say a fraction of a millimeter from the
black holes, and if I didn't put up a shield, then things would get close. But
because I'm a quadrupole, I can do that, I can create shielding fields that
make the raw intensity internal. Externally, you don't feel my gravitation."
"I can feel some of it," he said, as he nuzzled the side of her neck. "Mmmmm.
Well, that's a completely different sort of attraction, Duncan. So, around the
quadrupole, I have the first shield, the one that filters out the direct
gravitational effects. But if you got too close to that shield, you'd feel the
self-gravity of that gravitational tensor, the field of force. So, around the
first shield, I have a second shield, and that's what gives me the shape and
size that you can see." "You can control that?" "Yes, it's pretty much the
same as the way you can control the direction you're looking, or the bend of
your elbow. That shield is pretty hard and tough, but it can be damaged.
Although if it is, I can just close it down and recreate it. Then there's a
third layer on top of that, that's what you think is my skin." "Soft," he
said, stroking her thigh. "Yes, soft, and easily damaged, just like yours. But
the second layer is very tough, and the first, well, I don't think there's
anything that can damage that." "Wow. So you're invulnerable!" "No, I wouldn't
say that. You can cut my skin as easily as yours. The big differences are that
I won't bleed, because I don't have blood. And a knife blade would be stopped
by the second layer. And then I'd fix up the third in a moment, good as new."
"Wow." "And the clothes, well, that's very simple. You've probably worked that
out by now." He thought. "No, I haven't, actually, wait a minute, let me
think." Her hand crept between his legs. "How am I supposed to think when
you're doing that?" "Are you commanding me to stop?" "Commanding?" "I'm your
weapon, are you commanding me to stop doing this? And this? And this?" "Er,
no, no. You carry on." "And this."

"Wait, I know. I was looking at it wrong. They weren't clothes, right?"
"Right" "A fourth layer?" "Right." "But they looked so, so real. Like wool and
silk, they were just a field?" "Everything is, really. Matter is just frozen
energy, atoms are 99.99% empty space, fibres are just long chain molecules,
the atoms held together with the electroweak force. Look at my skin, look
carefully." "Looks normal to me." "Right. You can see the hair follicles." "I
can see the veins, I thought you didn't do blood?" "I don't, it's just
colouring and a slightly uneven surface." "Well, I suppose if you can make all
that look so good, fabrics must be a piece of cake." "Easy enough, you don't
even have to be exact about it, people expect some unevenness." "But you're
really beautiful. I can't believe I thought you were forty-five." "Is that
what you thought?" "When we first met, yes." "That's because that's the look I
was aiming for, Duncan. I didn't want to intimidate you, I wanted you to feel
comfortable with my looks. I can be pretty damn intimidating if I want to,
believe me. A twenty-something dolly-bird wouldn't have been right for you, so
I was a forty-something housefrau." "You don't look like a forty-something
housefrau now." "Why should I? I want you to find me sexually attractive, I
want you to be proud of me, and most of all, I want you to want me. Why should
a Weapon be ugly or even plain? Especially for the Rite of Binding, I want you
to be in a state of total blind lust." "Right now, I'm nearly in a state of
sleep." "Don't worry, I know how to fix that."

He felt her hand between his legs again, soft and gentle. He thought about
rotating charged magnetic black holes, fields of force and a two-day-old
machine. No, that wasn't right. His brain might have accepted that, but his
body knew that it was in the presence of the sexiest woman he'd ever met, and
she was in the process of initiating sex with him for the third time. Even
though he was exhausted, her touch began to stir him and his hands reached for
her breasts, feeling the hardness of her nipples and the firmness underneath.
His hands moved around and down until they were around her waist; her waist
was too big for him to enclose in his hands, but not by much. The feel of her
taut waist excited him more, and she rolled over so that he was on top of her
again. Then she rose. "This time, we fly," she whispered into his ear. He
looked down, nervously. "Trust your Weapon," she said, "I won't let you fall."
He looked into her eyes. "I'm learning," he said. Her hands moved up and down
his back, making electricity in his skin. He found himself being drawn into
her again, this time she didn't use her hands to guide him, it was like a
magnet attracting a rod of iron, although at the moment it didn't feel to him
like iron. But it did feel like he was enclosed in a vice made of silk and
velvet that was steadily drawing him in deeper and deeper, and when he was
fully engaged, he felt ripples of compression moving up and down. He groaned
as her body clutched at his, her legs wrapped around his thighs, her arms
round his neck, pulling him closer to her as her vagina sucked at his penis
with a strong milking action. "Ohhhhh..." he moaned, "oh, oh, oh."

"You like this?" she whispered. "Oh yes, yes." "You see, I'm not made the way
you expected, am I?" "No, no..." "This is better for you, isn't it?" "Yes,
yes" "OK, now close your eyes, I won't let you fall, I promise." He closed his
eyes, and she tightened her grip on him, her arms, her legs and her vagina all
pulling him close, hugging and squeezing. And she started them rotating, so
that she was on top, then he was, then she was, and as they rotated, the force
of gravity was acting on him. When she was on top, he moved down slightly, his
penis sliding out despite the strong grip of her vagina. Then as the rotation
brought him to the top, gravity pushed him down again, her vagina sucked and
drew him in. With each rotation, the sensations on his body built up and up,
and she gradually speeded up the rotation, so that the forces were acting
faster and faster. "Oh yes, oh yes," he cried, "oh please, oh, oh." "You see
the power of your Weapon now?" "Oh yes, yes" "You want more?" "Yes, yes, oh
please." She rotated them now at about one revolution per second, and he could
feel the pressure of his climax building up inside him until within a short
time, a white hot ball of flame erupted inside him, spreading out and around,
an explosion of sensation that rivalled the primordal Big Bang that kicked off
the universe. The powerful jolt to his nervous system interrupted his
autonomous processes, and his breathing was interrupted apart from the long
scream of "Yessssss!", and within a short time the consequential lack of
oxygen blacked out his brain, and he fell unconscious.

"Mmm," she said quietly, "nice." She put her mouth over his, and exhaled
oxygen into his lungs; when she stopped, he was breathing normally again. She
checked his pulse, it was 160, very high. His blood pressure was high too, but
not dangerously so. She lowered them both to the bed, and pulled his head to
her breasts, and whispered to him.

My strength is your strength. My power is your power. I will love you and
protect you and obey you. Until the end of time.

His eyes opened, and he looked into her eyes, and replied.

Your strength is my strength. Your power is my power. I will love you and
protect you and command you. Until the end of time.

And he relaxed, closed his eyes, and fell into an exhausted sleep.