Mels Fluid Intake

'One w... Water. Please.' She said, burping as she leaned on the bar, her breasts bulging slightly between her arms as she clumsily folded them beneath her. Ignoring her drunk ass, the bartender scooped up a little ice, filled up a glass and clacked it down on the worn wood in front of her without another glance. Missing the cup slightly with her first attempt, she took it, raised it, and tipped it half back in one gulp, not really noticing the dribbles that spilled out from either side of her mouth and wet her cleavage. She burped. Melinda was having a great night.

Sauntering back into the crowd with one strap hanging for dear life onto her bicep, she lost herself in the music, grinding and swaying for a while until she eventually broke her way back out to return to the bar.

'Waver,' she slurred. 'Wated. Water. Peals.' Raising one eyebrow, he doled out a fresh glass, indicating her left half with a backward finger as he placed it down.

'Your bra's half off.' He said, unemotionally. She took a comically long time to tilt her head down, blink at her arm, notice her breast half-way out of her bra, and messily lump it back in. She grinned lopsidedly at him as she thanked him, and he responded only by scooping up her empty cup.

Melinda danced some more, rubbing her ass on some unknown people of unknown genders and unknown orientations indiscriminately. She was in her element - party mode. Bass drums, tight skirts and drink. This was where people came to let loose, to stop thinking and start feeling. You drank until your brain turned off, and let your body turn on. Everything was primal and sensory; the music vibrated the skin, the smell of sweat and alcohol numbed the senses, and other people - also dressed for their bodies and not their brains - aroused and made for fun playthings. Here, she could feel up breasts, rub dicks, kiss ten different lips and slide herself along everything standing up and not give a single shit. She was free. The only thing holding her tied to mundane reality tonight was a seemingly unquenchable thirst, which only meant she had to keep going back to the cute bartender lady a lot. Or, was the bartender a he? Eh - she didn't remember and she didn't care.

'You feeling alright?' The bartender asked as Melinda staggered up for her sixth glass of water, though she didn't know it was. Nodding over-exaggeratedly, she wiggled her fingers in a grabby-grabby way to indicate her desire for a glass. 'You've had three in the last ten minutes. You're either really dehydrated, sick or someone's got their eye on you.' He frowned, glancing at the dance floor. 'I'm putting you in a room.' Melinda grumbled and complained, but he wouldn't hear it. He served her her water and chucked his towel to the lesbian emo also known as his colleague - she had been serving the other side of the bar - and helped Melinda upstairs. She was slow and loose and kept lounging herself on him, but he held her at by with one hand on her shoulder and eventually woman-handled her up to a small night room on the first floor. He put the key in her hand, made as sure as he could be that she understood how to lock the door behind him and closed it, shaking his head as he walked away.

Eventually putting key into lock, Melinda swayed, the sudden sensory deprivation leaving her wiped. She tilted and swayed her way to the bed, collapsed flat onto it and lay there, too blasted to think. She could hear the distant pounding of the dance floor downstairs and part of her wanted to leave the stupid room and go back to where the boobies and bass were, but now that she was laying here, her body's weakness had started to take over and she found she didn't want to move. Her heels still on the floor, knees bent over the edge of the bed, she let herself float on a drunken cloud, and before too long was out cold where she lay, shoes and all.

Melinda dreamed. The pounding dance floor shook and warped in time with the beat, making her body wave and distort. Women surrounded her, all of them with their left breast nearly out. She looked at them, hungry to kiss them and saw that they all had the bartender's stern stubbly face. Turning, she spun like a top, going dizzy until finally settling enough to make out a man, dressed all in black. He pulled her closer and she squeezed the air from between them, feeling his warm mass on her body, heating her already hot skin. She sighed and felt her breath pool around her face as it was trapped in his leather jacket, his hands wrapping around her and drawing her in tighter. She felt his body squeezing her, hot and full of the stench of wet sweat. Melinda slipped deeper and deeper into his skin, which seemed less solid than it had before. She blinked. Was she...

Inside

him? She blew out a breath and felt it again bubble up in front of her face, only now it really

did

bubble, clear spheres warping up in front of her eyes as she was pulled further and further into leather and skin that wasn't really leather and skin, going so deep into his figure that she seemed to be drowning in him, and now he was clear, light dancing and warping through his skin as he surrounded her, covering her, consuming her in a bubble of watery mass that separated her from everything else but her own solitary body-

-Melinda burst awake, panting. She was sweating hard, her already damp clubbing clothes clinging to her body. The alcohol was wearing off and she was spinning slightly; she could feel wetness running all over her skin. Sitting up, she felt the bedsheets and her clothes clinging to her body, and knew she'd have to strip and shower. Taking it slow she waddled into the bathroom, untying her tight button-up shirt and ditching it in a pile on the floor that soon gained her skirt, bra, socks and panties. She ran the shower hotter than she needed to and let it scald her skin clean, the most she'd be able to manage in her half-drunk, half-hung-over state. She rubbed her arms and chest and turned slowly like a rotisserie chicken under the heat until she was all cooked up, eventually stepping out, drying off and wrapping herself only in two body towels.

Padding back out into her room, she took in the dark space. A single bed, small desk and single wardrobe were all it featured, but it was cozy and clean enough. Shaking her sheets to move the wet patch as much aside as she could, she sat down on the side of the bed and took pause, catching up on her night so far. The wall clock read 2:41 AM. Blinking, she turned to look out the window into the dim night air. As she did so however, Melinda realized with a jolt that she was still damp. No, she corrected - not just damp,

wet.

Feeling her skin, she realized she was still dripping.

Damn,

she thought to herself.

I'm either getting sick or still shit-faced. Or I got out of that shower way too quickly.

'Neither.' Melinda said out loud.

WAIT.

Melinda blinked. Had she just spoken out loud in response to... Herself?

'Yep. You sure did.' Melinda said. She blinked, closing her mouth with a pop of her lips. Okay, she realized. Definitely still shit-faced dru-

'You're not drunk.' Melinda said.

'Huh?' She exclaimed back with the same mouth.

'You're not drunk.' She repeated.

'What do you- what do I- why am I talking to-' She struggled vainly.

'You're not drunk. You're

occupied.

' Melinda said matter-of-factly. Her face pulled into one of complete surprise, but only a second or two later, she shook her own head.

'You're not dreaming. I'm just sharing your body.' She told herself. 'Here, let me show you.'

What happened next told Melinda she HAD to be drunk, stoned and probably spiked two, maybe three times over to be seeing what she saw. Maybe she'd fallen and hit her head - probably off a bridge or a cliff to be this insane, but still, she had to have fallen. She'd be pleasantly surprised to wake up and find herself in a stranger's bed, being done in the ass or perhaps with a bag over her head in someone's boot. But no, try as she might to wake up or rouse herself, nothing took her away from what she saw happen. There, naked on her hotel bed, Melinda's

own sweat

seemed to roll across her skin,

puddle itself on her chest,

and then reach out, up, and form itself into a clear, translucent head in front of her very eyes. She baulked in total stunned amazement, not yet able to discern if this was a vivid dream or perhaps a dying brain's hallucination. It was so far from reality that she didn't think to do anything ordinary, like slap it away or run downstairs for help. She just stared. The watery head smiled a wet smile and spoke to her.

'Melinda, I'm Ben. I'm inside you.'

...........

'Melinda, wake up - you passed out. Hey, Melinda!' The voice pulled her back to the surface, and Melinda came to to see her room's ceiling smiling back at her. Blinking, she realized it was just stains in the underside of the roof tiles, and for a second she thought that had been what she'd seen all along. Then, the voice spoke inside her head again and she knew she was still in the dream.

'Mel, I'm Ben. I'm made of water - I'm a nano-fied, experimental human intelligence created from AI, borne on water by biotic molecules. I'm a self-powering network of drones designed to be able to test water from anywhere in the world in real-time, only, I think I've ended up far, far outside of my original operating parameters.'

Mel groaned and lifted her head. Coming to her senses, she realized she was still sweating. 'Don't worry,' Ben said as if he was her own voiced thoughts, 'I'm not letting you lose fluids. I just need to cycle my drones around your body to ensure we keep generating power. Your skin is reabsorbing us very efficiently and helping me to generate tiny amounts of static energy.'

Mm. Yes, extremely efficient - Mel was sure her skin was quite good at absorbing alcohol and spilled water as well as the next person, but this was a little ridiculous even for her druggo-crazy-hit-on-coffee-table-probably-spiked-drink-and-half-dying-or-something-brain.

'I can assure you no amphetamines or steroids are present in your blood stream,' Ben said helpfully in her own brain. 'You are slightly inebriated, but not beyond typical human cognition.' Mel could only blink. She didn't know what the fuck to think. She was thinking to herself as a water person called Ben. She was officially psycho, and she had no idea what she should do.

'Neither do I,' Ben replied to her thoughts. 'I must admit, I do not recall being programmed for this eventuality. However, I do contain many routines not active until triggered by human intervention, as a safe-guard to ensure only survival and self-control is available to me. I believe this was done to ensure that I could not move water, or other matter, too far out of control, or adversely affect pipework or testing animals.'

'Oh yeah?' Mel said out loud, sarcastically engaging with "ben" without really knowing why. She figured if she was going to trip this hard, she might as well enjoy it, until she probably died or woke up in a padded cell.

'Yes. I can effectively understand and assume basic control over almost anything enough of my drones reside in. I have basic self-defensive actions, preservation routines, food and drink intelligence, analytical capabilities and physical transference. My AI programming also includes rapid learning, designed to help me adapt and overcome my environment. Your brain, remarkably complex as it is though heavily water-based, has provided many deep lessons from which I can extrapolate-'

'Get the FUCK out of my body!' Melinda suddenly exploded, throwing herself off the bed and to her feet. Her top towel came undone and fell off her body in the process, leaving her teardrop breasts free to swing in the cool air, but she didn't notice. Hopped up on the drink and convinced she had to be mental, her emotions had overcome her and she had suddenly grown furious.

'How DARE you command me!' Ben's voice roared in her brain in retort. She froze, the unique sensation of someone else shouting in her own brain

at her

stunning her.

'Ah, thank you - I was curious as to how that worked. I now understand that this area of your brain controls emotional control functions, and regulates your senses and feelings. These are new concepts to me, though as an AI built to adapt and grow, I cannot feel grateful enough for the chance to experience them. Actually - yes I can!' Ben exclaimed in real joy, as he realized not only could he feel grateful, he could also feel happy. Melinda grinned, unable to resist feeling the same as he manipulated her brain into feeling different emotions, not realizing the effect manipulating her own brain had on her. She sat back down on the bed in a rush, suddenly quite giddy.

'Ben,' she said, light but serious. 'Are you really saying you're... You're a real person, living inside the water in my body?' She asked. She felt the feeling of him nodding in her mind, and another grin split her face as Ben felt happy at his rapidly growing understanding of the human mind.

'Yes!' he said. 'I do not know where I was made, but I do know that I am a significant distance from there, because I know now that you do not speak or know of the language I was originally programmed in.' As if to prove his point, Melinda's mouth spoke several short strings in something that sounded vaguely Eastern - guttural and heavy on the tongue. She was shit with languages, so it could as easily have been German or Nepalese to her. 'Nepalese is closer, I believe,' Ben said. 'But I cannot get much closer with your limited knowledge than that.' Melinda frowned, pursing her lips. She turned her head, saw her phone on the pillow and picked it up.

'Hey,' she said as her arm unlocked it and pulled up her web browser. Ben was using her knowledge of her phone to search for his answers. 'Hey, wait-' she protested. He moved to create a new tab, opened her tab drawer, and then paused. Melinda felt embarrassment that could only be wholly her own reddening her cheeks as her open tabs were revealed to her private eyes, which were now no longer private. Ben had clearly seen something he was curious about too, and it didn't take a genius to work out what it was.

'I see,' Ben said softly in her brain as he analyzed what she was feeling as she felt it. 'I register embarrassment, shame, uncertainty, pride, desire and...' He trailed off. 'Not enough data. Learning.'

Before she could stop herself, Melinda tapped the first tab. It was porn, still loaded to the thumbnail of the triple-X spit roast she had most recently fucked herself to. Two well-engorged men still had their hard cocks in each end of a petite blonde whore, and one of her tits were blurry where it was swinging as she bucked with the interaction.

'Ben,' Melinda whispered, but he kept swiping with her own treacherous hand. Her second open tab featured two women, one of whom was holding a dangling crystal necklace in front of the slack-jawed face of another. Her third tab revealed a woman who had been tied to the bed. She didn't have to play the video to remember the black haired actress's voice as it screamed "make me cum for you daddy" in high-pitched and jerky gasps. "I'm your good little slut," she had moaned as he'd edged her. She could remember whispering the same words out loud as she masturbated to her phone. She could remember most of the things she'd masturbated to.

'I see...' Ben's voice said again. 'Is this the act of sex? No... I see that this is a subset of sexual intercourse known as masturbation. Learning...'

'Ben, I really don't think you should-' Melinda said. But Ben had evidently already learned because something unmistakable cut her off with a shudder. Deep in her groin, heavy arousal burst to life, and Melinda's body instinctively responded, spreading her legs slightly and making her heart pound and her heart pump. She gasped. 'Ben,' she breathed. The arousal washed away almost as quickly as it had started, and she panted slightly, the strain of feeling such deep sex come and then go shocking to her system. It had been so raw, so primal - like her most horny, desperate moment, summoned in an instant.

'I understand.' Ben said. For a short while, neither of them spoke.

'You are a complex woman,' Ben said after a little while. 'I have learned much from you. I understand now what it means to be a female. Thank you for this lesson.' He paused cryptically. 'I can tell there is much you wish to know, and I sense your wishes.' His voice, though it had not been audible, seemed to be deeper, closer, and had certainly changed tones - or was that just her? In a few short minutes, he had siphoned everything about being a human woman from her mind and had grown. His hyper-adaptive AI, strung out over a network of billions of waterborne nano robots was like a tiny super-brain of its own. It was inside her, and it was now as smart and knowledgeable about her life as she was.

'Something in particular has occurred to you, Mel,' Ben said softly. 'Something new is forming in your mind.' Melinda couldn't tell if he was reading and repeating what she was thinking to her, or if his thinking it was making it occur to her. At this point, weren't they essentially one and the same person anyway? She couldn't know.

'I think we are,' Ben said. 'At least, we are as long as I exist inside your mind. I know what you know, I feel what you feel, I am what you are.' He paused again. 'And I believe that you... Are horny.'

Well now the cat's truly out of the psycho bag,

Melinda thought, unable to help herself. Ben obviously chose to ignore the statement, but she couldn't as easily choose to ignore what he'd said. He was right, though whether he was tweaking her body to his own agenda or whether it was natural, she couldn't know. They were both her body - they both felt identical.

'I can assure you, Mel,' Ben's voice said, and now it felt so close that it was like he was speaking right into her ears from millimeters away. 'I am not presently controlling any aspects of your chemical balances.' Melinda didn't lose the way his voice had changed, the way he'd learned to use her pet name, and the way he now clearly knew how to speak to her. She had to hand it to him - he was a damn good learner.

Maybe he's feeling the same way I feel because it's me- I'm making him feel it too, just like he did to me.

'Mel,' Ben whispered. 'I know what you want.'

Slowly, Mel let her arms slide to her sides, lowering herself back onto the bed. Her libido was creeping more and more into full throttle, and she couldn't stop herself from feeling the prickling touch as thousands of tiny droplets of water popped from her pores and slid themselves across her skin.

Yes,

she thought, and the ghostly voice of Ben seemed to harmonize her own mental voice.

I do like this. A lot.

Perhaps it was just Ben, perhaps it was the arousal, perhaps it was one of a thousand fucking things - whatever was happening to her, Mel was starting to let her conscious thoughts go and give over to feelings, and she had someone who could share and manipulate those right in her own head. Ben hadn't just learned her - he had mastered her, and part of her knew that now. He had inherited every tiny aspect of Mel's

self,

and now he couldn't just give her what she wanted, he could understand what she most deeply needed, the way she needed it.

'Let me give you what you want,' Ben breathed overpoweringly in her mind. 'Let me... Pleasure, you.'

He didn't need to wait for her to consent verbally to know she already agreed. Instantly after his question, he subtly and smoothly took control and Mel felt her arousal triple in an instant. She gasped and realized her hands were grasping her tits. She mauled them, at first all straight pointers and digging nails, but the little fucker was still as good a learner as he had ever been and within a few gropes he'd turned into an expert in the field of her breasts, massaging and molding them exactly as only she'd ever known she liked best. She moaned, feeling Ben's tones coating her own voice as her legs lifted onto the bed, knees bent and parted. Her remaining towel slipped easily open and her naked body revealed itself to no one as her pussy rapidly soaked itself. Ben was her; he was her brain, her thoughts, her pleasure center, her memories. He already knew without needing her to think it that she loved feeling herself wet, loved knowing how hot something got her. He already knew she enjoyed edging and teasing her body until she couldn't resist her orgasm bursting out, often so overdue that she squirted, saw stars or otherwise nearly knocked herself out. He was an expert in her, and he was an expert

in

her. He put his knew knowledge to total, evil work.