"A Hieronymus machine," Harrison Wells droned impatiently, as if he had already explained this a million times before, "is a device that works not through electronic or mechanical means, but through directing the mental, psionic power of the human being operating it. Because of this, it does not necessarily have to be constructed out of any specific material. A scale model or even the schematics are perfectly acceptable. The necessary component—the
only
necessary component—is the properly trained human mind. That training comes from the importance the mind gives itself. You can't just
will
the Hieronymus machine to work, it takes an explicit reconditioning of the thought process, a complete shift in mentality."
"Is that why you brought a strap-on?" Iris asked.
Harrison looked at her with an expression that all but pleaded with her to keep up. "Caitlin, would you kindly... I don't know how to explain it any more simply than that."
"What Harry was trying to say," Caitlin started, "—I think—was that just like the human mind gives the Hieronymus machine power, it gives other things power as well. Words or gestures—'I love you, I hate you,' they're just sounds, but we invest them with their power."
"And social taboos and rites are the most powerfully invested things in human existence," Harrison said. "The shattering of those taboos, especially for the first time, will unlock your mental prowess in incredible ways, giving the Hieronymus machine more than enough fuel to accomplish the necessary changes to the Multiverse-substratum. Losing your virginity, having sex with a woman, having sex with an African-American—"
"I don't see having sex with an African-American as a big deal," Caitlin assured Iris. "A lot of African-Americans are really sexy—I mean, your dad—"
"What about my dad?"
"Well... 'daddy' is right."
"Let's stop," Iris said.
"Are we fixing the timeline or aren't we?" Harrison demanded.
"I thought you said it was the multiverse that Zoom damaged..."
"Space-
time
continuum," Harrison stressed. "Do I have to explain sex to you as well?" He made a circle with one hand and poked it with his forefinger. "There. Do that. Or would you rather I showed you?"
Iris looked at Caitlin. She did much prefer the idea of being with this cute, adorable woman than Harrison's rudeness and hostility. She remembered that late night at the newspaper offices—the sensuous pleasure of Linda's glowing breasts, the lustful perfume that'd filled the air after she'd stripped off Linda's panties...
"I guess... it wouldn't be so bad..." Caitlin said, putting an arm around Iris's waist, soft and warm. "We could both promise to be gentle... and I think we're both pretty attractive, right?"
"You're pretty attractive," Iris affirmed, leaning in to nuzzle her velvet lips against Caitlin's cheek.
"Oh!"
"And you shouldn't mind too much—" she whispered in Caitlin's ear. "Seeing as this is what you've wanted all along."
"I mean, uh, yes, it was a certain possibility that I didn't discount, but uh, uhhhh..."
"You, on the cot, lie flat on your back," Harrison ordered, pointing decisively at Caitlin. "Iris, put on the dildo. You're busting her hymen."
"Is that really—I don't think Caitlin's even a virgin."
"Hey!"
Iris raised her eyebrows in bemused questioning. "Ronnie? Jay?"
"Ronnie and I were saving ourselves for marriage. And Jay's a gentleman."
"And anyway, I'm sure her anal virginity will do just as well," Harrison said.
"
I am not having anal sex!
"
"That's the spirit! Keep that taboo in place!"
Iris picked up the dildo. It was at least seven inches long, as wide as a silver dollar. Attached was a harness made from leather straps. She looked over at Caitlin, undressing for the cot—she wore high-waisted shorts that seemed barely fashionable, yet looked good, owing more to the long legs they exposed than to anything in them. There was a zipper on them, running from her waist in the front, down between her legs, and up her bottom. Caitlin had unzipped it all the way, and pulled her panties aside, but with her other hand she covered her pubis with her palm. The unzipped shorts clung to her thighs and buttocks and waist, accentuating her thin, supple body.
She still had on a short, thin midi-blouse, but had removed her bra, and her breasts were obvious under the white material. Iris could feel herself flush as her reporter's mind ran through the thinking on that—that Caitlin might want her breasts touched later, didn't want to fidget with her bra
then
. That she was a little nervous, like Iris, but also aroused enough to want to enjoy that. And without the bra, there wasn't much to keep Iris from her breasts. She could just lift the blouse up from her waist and squeeze those breasts, see if they were as firm as they looked, if the nipples were as hard as they appeared through that thin, white material...
Iris looked back down at the harness. She wondered if she'd end up wanting to remove it, being cunt to cunt with Caitlin, maybe having the scientist eat her out...
"It's
easy
," Harrison insisted, stepping behind her, taking the straps, and buckling the first at her waist.
"Wait, what are you doing?" Iris asked, dumbfounded, as she felt his hand go between her legs, grab one of the straps and pull it behind her. "What is this?"
"Stand still!" Harrison ordered, getting the other strap. He tightened it and said "There! Now get to it!"
The huge phallus hung from her groin now, threatening, grotesque. It suddenly seemed so much more serious than kissing and fondling Caitlin as she'd done Linda—uglier, more domineering and callous.
"Caitlin, are you sure about this?" Iris asked.
Caitlin looked Iris over. The wonderfulness of her body was evident, barely hidden by her tight clothes. And something about the strap-on she wore made her more appealing, cast her in a sexual light that was enough to make Caitlin shiver. She longed to share something with Iris as delicious as the beautiful reporter was.
Still—to allow that misshapen baseball bat to enter her body—it was so long and thick, how could she handle it? Caitlin squinted at the appendage. It had to weigh at least four pounds.
"It won't hurt." Iris didn't sound convincing. "It's just a bit bigger than Ronnie's; he put his down your throat, remember?"
Caitlin gulped. "Yeah, but in my pussy? I'm a virgin!"
Iris was too quick in her response: "It won't hurt. You'll see. Eddie didn't hurt me."
Caitlin looked deep into Iris's eyes. She trusted that Iris would try
not
to hurt her, but still...
Still
, it couldn't get her pregnant and it couldn't get her sick. And it could save the universe. That was the important thing. Caitlin stepped to the bed, lay on her back, and splayed her legs.
"Alright then. Let's get it over with."
"Better get some Vaseline on it," Harrison told Iris. "Here." He tossed her a jar.
Iris greased herself up, making nervous eye contact with Caitlin as she did so. She felt giddy, a little anxious.
Caitlin's eyes dropped to her crotch, the dildo jutting out stiffly from her, hiding and emerging in Iris's hands as she smeared it with lubricant. Iris was slowly coming closer as she applied the lube, and Caitlin was able to reach over and take the enormous thing in her shaky hands.
"Would you believe that I've never touched a dildo until yours... just now?"
Caitlin's voice was soft. When she looked up at Iris, her eyes were shy.
"Interesting," Iris said. She felt vulnerable too—stricken by Caitlin's beauty, by her pale, silken skin that contained a glow of health, a surprising voluptuousness in her slender frame. Seeing Caitlin like that, feeling the little stirring against her groin as Caitlin took over lubricating the dildo, Iris's mind felt thick, stoppered.
Caitlin opened her hands and looked closer at the dildo, bending down with her trembling breasts slightly extended. "It's kinda... cute, I suppose. All it's meant for is to... make a girl happy. That's nice, right?" Caitlin bit her lip. "I don't... I mean, I've never... done..."
"Would you put it in already?" Wells had a burning gleam in his eyes. "She's wet enough!"
Caitlin blushed fiercely. "It's not that! It's just—just..."
"Better grease yourself up too. Iris, hand her the Vaseline."
Iris held out the jar to her and, biting a strip of skin from her lip, Caitlin daubed three fingers with a helping of the stuff. She opened her legs and before Iris's eyes she stroked her delicate pinkness. It was wet to begin with, but now it became glossy with slipperiness, swelling and reddening to match Caitlin's actual blush.
"You have a cock," Caitlin tittered, a little slap-happy. "I have a c-cunt... oh, I can hardly say the word..."
"Then don't say it, just use it!" The low-key apoplexy that Harrison always seemed on the verge of now seemed to be metastasizing.
"Shut up, Harry! She'll use it when she uses it!" Iris snapped, and got a heartfelt look of thanks from Caitlin for her defense. "Here," Iris continued, and put her hand on Caitlin's groin—"Ah!"—she nudged in a finger about an inch and stopped, feeling the virgin tightness through the slick oils, the intense inner heat, the tight grip seeming to try and break her finger.
"I... ahhh!" Caitlin moaned.
"You wanna stop?"
"No... we're not doing anything. We're not." It was clear Caitlin was making justifications. "I'm just learning things. Oh... I'm just figuring things out..."
She jiggled on Iris's finger. Iris grabbed Caitlin's hip with her free hand, the warm flesh feeling shockingly good to the touch—dug another finger into Caitlin. Caitlin jerked and gave a little scream, the ruthless penetration throbbing happily inside her. They looked down, saw a little exultation of virgin blood caught in Iris's palm. Iris was inside her now. A previous few glorious inches.
"We should stop," Iris said, mainly because she didn't want to. One frayed thread of reason held her back from fucking Caitlin, really fucking her, seeing that expressive face go from conflict to lust and pleasure and satisfaction.
She took her hand away. It wasn't so bad. Just a trickle—probably from Caitlin tensing up so much. It was almost lost in the gleam of lubricant and arousal anointing Caitlin's inner thighs.
Caitlin touched herself, her finger just inside her sex, trying a circular motion that made her moan. Watching it was sweet agony for Iris. Her breath rushed in her throat, imagining how it felt.
"What would you call it?" Caitlin asked. "Where did you touch me?"
"Your cunt."
"Oh, God—when you say that word, it feels so...!"
Caitlin fell back on the cot, legs wide apart. Iris felt like she was the one who was feeling so...! Like Caitlin was seducing her. The virgin making Iris her bitch.
