The Amazon Angel: a Christmas Story

Foreword: Jeff and Lia are non-player characters in my Pen and Paper RPG game Merlin Omega. They are part of a continuing story, but everything you need to understand them in this story is present in the story.

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Life is grand in the 22nd Century. Well, it's grand if you have some useful skills, aren't easily replaced with a robot, have the best gene-mods, and have the good luck not to be replaced by some AI who can do your job better than you. I am partially in that camp, so my life is partially good.

My name is Jeff Hernandez. I work at the Parthenon, a relatively new casino, hotel, and brothel in Las Vegas, as a Greek God. I sure have the body for it. I'm a Herakles Parahuman, engineered to the perfection of the male body, with an emphasis on muscles. I've got nice tan skin from the abundant sunshine around here, brown hair, and brown eyes, and the vaguely Hispanic look of the American of the early 22nd.

Christmas has never been my favorite time of year for a variety of reasons. My dad passed away in an industrial accident when I was a kid, for one thing. Then there's the ever-present commercialism that buries the actual message of the season. The shop 'til you drop nonsense. The cloying faux happiness. The constant ads of buy, buy, buy. The abusing of your heart strings by telling you the only way to happiness is to give your SO this expensive bauble. And all the ancient feel-good crap on TV -- Miracle on 34th Street, A Christmas Story, It's a Wonderful Life, and Home Alone, just to name a few, really starts to grate on you. But this Christmas was particularly shitty.

Every year, I go back to San Diego where my mom lives for Christmas. This year was supposed to be special. I'd been serious with a girl for almost a year now, and she and I were supposed to be flying in from Vegas. First-Class round trip tickets, a nice hotel room, and an engagement ring were all ready for this trip. There was one small problem. She wasn't here. Why, you might ask? It started with Halloween. I had picked out a pretty damn authentic Marc Anthony outfit to go with my girlfriend's really hot Cleopatra costume. She and I were going to go to the annual Fetish and Fantasy Halloween Ball dressed in those costumes. However, on Halloween, she texted me to tell me she was forced to go into work that night and wouldn't be going to the ball. Disappointed, I told her we'd just have to take a rain check on the sexy, and I donated my tickets to my best friend. So, when my best friend's girlfriend called me up at 11, I was a bit surprised, but I figured she was going to thank me for making their night. Turns out I was quite far from the truth.

She called me to tell me that she caught her boyfriend and my girlfriend at the party my girlfriend said she couldn't make, and that they left and went to a hotel known for being a hookup spot for prostitutes and out-of-towners. Not believing my ears, I told her to meet me at that hotel. We met, and she took me to the room that my best friend and girlfriend supposedly went into. I did my best police officer door knock, and shouted "open up!" The door opened, and my nightmare was confirmed. My girlfriend and my best friend were half-naked in this room together. My ex-girlfriend and former best friend, that is. His girlfriend beat the shit out of my ex, while I laid the two-timing dude out with one punch. I then told my ex that she better come get her shit in the morning, and I never wanted to see her again, and then I slammed the door and left.

Two months had barely made a dent in my bad mood. My ex called me a few times, with some bullshit excuse, then an apology. I hung up on the bullshit excuse promptly. When she apologized, I calmly and coldly explained to her what I had planned for Christmas. I made sure she knew about the engagement ring, and the first-class tickets. I told her how much she meant to me, and what I was planning on doing. And then I told her how love is based on respect, and how it was quite disrespectful to two-time me with my best friend. Then I told her to go suck my former best-friend's dick because she obviously liked it and never call me again, and then closed the call and blocked her. It was quite liberating, honestly.

I still had the ring and the tickets. The ring would cost 50% to return, so I figured I would keep that for someone who really deserved it. The tickets were non-refundable. All in all, it set me back almost 10 grand. I got pissed every time I thought about it.

I did the Christmas Eve get-together with my family. It was obvious Mom had told people to let me be, as most people just smiled and offered a Christmas card and good will. We agreed that I would be staying by myself for Christmas day, and I'd drop in in the morning after Christmas for one last goodbye before flying back to Vegas.

As Christmas Day dawned, I woke up in a pretty foul mood. This was supposed to be the day I dropped the Big Question to my ex. I had rehearsed this in my mind repeatedly. After Christmas Eve dinner, we'd go to bed in each other's arms, wake up the next morning, go downstairs for Christmas morning, and gather around the tree like we used to do when I was a kid. We'd trade gifts. I had a few gag gifts in mind for her, including a sexy elf costume, plus a few more serious gifts, such as the improved Virtual Interface Implant with a Shadow Emulation of my own mind in it. And the highlight of the day, the ring itself, would be left for last, in a hidden corner under the tree. She'd open that, and I'd get on my knee and pop the question. I imagined that there would be tears of joy and a heartfelt 'yes', followed by that elf costume getting its breaking in at our hotel -- mama don't need to hear any of that.

Instead, I was in a tracksuit prowling down the streets in downtown San Diego on Christmas Day, hating my life, and hating my ex.

Being Christmas, I expected all the shops to be closed and the doors shuttered, so I was quite surprised to see a gym with its doors open. Above the doors in blocky script was a sign identifying the gym as "Atlantis Gym". One of the doors was open, and a smaller sign on the other door said to please come in. Wondering what sort of Scrooge would leave their shop open on Christmas, yet having nothing better to do with my day, I decided to go in and work off my frustrations, at least as much as I could.

The gym was well appointed, with a wide variety of workout machines. The machines were all new, in black with silver trim, and each designed with a VTAG interface for my implant. The walls were a Silver Mist color, with white snowflake patterns evenly spaced...or so it appeared at first glance. But something about the snowflakes caught my attention. I then put two and to together -- "Atlantis Gym", and the symbol on the wall. The symbols were not snowflakes, but instead, silhouettes of a fictional flying city from a late 20th and early 21st century sci-fi franchise called "Stargate." I chuckled at the obvious Stargate fan who owned the gym. "Go, us nerd jocks, I guess."

As I entered, a house AI greeted me. "Welcome to Atlantis Gym. Please feel free to use any of the machines here. The changing rooms are in the back, and there are plenty of disinfectant wipes for the machines. Please leave the machines as you found them, so the next person may enjoy them. For today only, there is no charge for use of the facility. Merry Christmas, and may you find the path to the new you that you have always desired." So, not a Scrooge, or at least not the one before the Ghosts. I thanked the AI and got to work. Not having come here planning to work out, I only had my track suit with me, so I just got to work on the machines.

I lost track of time, moving from machine to machine. At first, I got my regular workout in, but as I worked out more and more, I started losing myself in thought. My ex was into hitting the gym as well, which is why she looked so good in that Cleopatra outfit. We spent plenty of time in places like this, followed by plenty of time rushing home to a good fucking. Eventually, I built matching his and hers workout rooms in our apartments, and we actually had a few fucking sessions in those rooms. Thinking back to that got me both horny and angry at the same time. A different sort of hangry, I guess you could say. Thinking back on my adventures and going through the routines, I found myself quite surprised when I suddenly couldn't quite lift the free-weight I didn't remember getting into. As I strained, I suddenly felt the weight get a whole hell of a lot lighter, opened my eyes, and got an eyeful.

"Really, now. You know better not to be using this machine without a spotter, and especially not without paying attention!" The voice was musical and feminine, with an exotic accent that I couldn't quite place. The owner of this voice was standing over me, one arm outstretched, holding the weight bar in the center. Her arm was well corded, and fit well with the rest of her muscular body. Her skin had a nice healthy coppery tan, which contrasted nicely with her almost golden-blonde hair. Her intelligent blue eyes had a slight slant to them, adding to her exoticness, and her well-muscled body was nicely displayed in a pair of tight black short-shorts and a sports-bra. She was obviously not quite human, not because of the unique hair color which could have come from a bottle, or the skin color or the build which could have just been hard work and genetics, but because of the two rather large black feathered wings on her back. I'd just been saved from my inattention by an Amazon Angel. I was guessing she was either a very custom bioroid, or something even more exotic.

"Sorry, ma'am. Deep thoughts. You're right, I shouldn't be using this alone." With her help, I racked the weights and got up. As I started wiping down the machine with my towel, I turned to her and said, "Hi, I'm Jeff. Thanks for saving me from myself."

Those intelligent blue eyes of hers filled with mirthful humor. "Jeff. I am Lia, and you are welcome. You should be careful about letting your errant thoughts cloud your vision, for clouded vision leads to unexpected places."

With a shy grin, I scratched the back of my head, and looked duly chastised. "Yeah, I should be careful about that. Don't want to end up in unexpected places."

Her mirthful humor spread to her mouth as a wide grin. "Oh, I wouldn't say that. Sometimes you need to go a path you have not yet taken, as it will help you see the truth of the world around you. So, what brings you to my gym on Christmas?"

I sighed. "Well, today I was supposed to be popping the Question to my girlfriend. Turns out she would rather two-time on me with my best friend, so...well, I don't have a girlfriend to pop the Question to anymore, or a best friend for that matter. Figured I'd catch up on my workout instead."

She nodded sagely at that, and gave me the up and down look. "On behalf of all womankind, I apologize for your ex's behaviour. She is quite the fool to let one such as you go."

I blushed at the exotic angel's complement, while little Jeffie took notice of the fact that a beautiful woman was checking me out. "She's an idiot. So is he. They are perfect for each other."

She laughed. "Many people end up with the person they deserve. The Universe works in mysterious ways. She has found an idiot that matches her, and you have found...me, and my gym. Though I would appreciate it if you do not get yourself killed in my gym. Please, use a spotter if you are to use these machines." She smirked as she pointed at the free-standing weights.

"Yes, ma'am." I replied, sheepishly. "So, uh, I have to ask. You don't see many people with wings. I hope I'm not getting too personal if I ask how you got them?"

She smirked again. "I was born with them. You could say they are my father's blood. I am from beyond the walls of this universe, from another."

That clarified things a bit for me. "You're a Shifter, then." Shifters are people from beyond the shift-storms. In 2092, the Haut-Zaire reactor went critical and opened cracks in the fabric of space-time, allowing people from other universes to cross freely into our own. It was quite the shock to our world. Anything from peaceful elves through mischievous dragons to honest to goodness Nazis would come through, and each of them upset our view of the world. In 2091, we'd say magick was just sleight of hand, an explanation for things that ignorant people couldn't explain with rational causes. Then the Haut Zaire event happened. Suddenly our explanations were not sufficient for things anymore, and we had to acknowledge that there were a few things that were rationally explained as 'a wizard did it.' In an earlier world, we might have rejected Shifters wholesale, as not-human, but in a world where Science can create catgirls, centaurs, elves, and dragons, and these beings are just as entitled to human rights as any baseliner, we found it easy to accept them as our equals and even friends. And if Little Jeffie had anything to say about it, even lovers. But for now, I wasn't gonna embarrass myself by letting Little Jeffie do the thinking here. "That's cool. Welcome to Earth. Why the gym?"

She grinned. "We are actually closer to you than you might think." She might have been referencing my Herakles genetics with that comment. "My people have engineered themselves to not need men. We have increased our testosterone levels enough to support increased muscle development, pursue physical activities to encourage that growth, and established a society based on martial and physical accomplishments. You might call us 'amazons', though our home is not the mythical Themyscira. You could say we followed in that legend's footsteps. This place allows me to make a living on your world, while keeping my own physique in top form."

I nodded, in understanding. "I'm made to look like Herakles from Greek myth, so I totally get where you're coming from. So, your people studied the ancient Greeks?"

She nodded. "In a way. We were more partial to the Romans, however, rather than the Greeks."

I laughed. "Well, I have a Marc Anthony costume I'm about to burn in a New Year's bonfire." At her inquisitive look, I elaborated, "My ex had a Cleopatra outfit she was supposed to wear for me at the Fetish and Fantasy Ball in Vegas. We were going to go in a couple's costume."

She tisked a bit about me. "We really need to take your mind off of your ex-lover. I tell you what. First, get out of that track suit. There's a washing machine in the changing room you can use -- your suit is starting to reek a bit. Locker 243 has a pair of shorts you can wear while your clothes are washing and drying, and you can use my fabricator to make shoes to go with those shorts. The shorts are made of bioplas and are rather...fetishy themselves, but they will protect your modesty while your clothes are washing and drying. I have a private gym in the back that you can use. I can spot for you in there..." She turns to head to the back, but not before looking over her shoulder. "...let's see if we can clear thoughts of your ex out of your mind, if not for good, than at least for the day." I get a nice look at her firm rear, before she saunters off.

I'm a pretty dense guy overall, but I am sure she's offering more than just a workout. I laugh, and figure that I'll find out soon enough. She was right. The track suit trapped sweat and made me smell faintly ripe. I headed to Locker 243 first, and found it slightly open. She was right about the shorts. Shiny, black, and rather small-looking, but being made out of bioplas, I was sure they would fit me. My suspicions of more than just a simple workout were strengthened when I looked at the front of the shorts. "Nice. Easy access." A zipper right over where my dick would be. I used the fabricator she indicated to make some high-top shoes, a pair of socks, and a black mesh shirt to go with the shorts. I then headed to the shower, stripped out of my suit, washed up, just in case this was going where my Little Jeffie was hoping it would go, got dressed in the provided clothing, and headed to the washer and dryer to dump my clothes in. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I turned around, and I had to admit. I looked good in this outfit, even if it was a bit tight and short for my tastes.

I headed into the back room, through the door Lia told me to use. It was a smaller version of the front room, with a smaller assortment of machines. The walls and ceiling were mirrored, and most of the machines faced the mirrors. I figured she liked to remind herself of why she spent her time in the gym. I had to admit, with a body like hers, this would be an effective strategy. I turned my eyes to the machines. They were the typical things you'd see in a gym -- pullover machine, leg machines, curling machines, and a freestanding weight setup, but the thing that really caught my attention was the machine in the center of the room. It appeared to be an incline chest press at first glance, but taking a closer look made it look much kinkier. The unholy union of a incline chest press and a Saint Andrew's Cross. As I looked at it closer, Lia's accented voice said, "That one is not for you." Whatever I was going to say to her in response died in my throat as I turned around. All the blood rushed from my big head to my little, as I got a look at her.

Gone were the sports-bra and the short-shorts. Instead, she'd gone for the whole fetish look in black and silver. Strappy black thigh-high boots with six inch heels and fishnet cutouts sat over silver stockings. These were connected by garter straps to a short-ass black latex mini skirt that ended high enough that I got flashes of the silver panties she was wearing under her skirt. Under both panties, skirt, and stockings, she was wearing tan pantyhose. Her abs were on full display, with the only torso covering being a tiny open-bust bra over a silver skin-tight top. Her arms were covered in detached gloves that resembled the boots with the black latex straps, fishnet, and silver stockings. She walked in through the door I had entered, swaying those hips. For a moment, I was completely speechless. She smirked again, and said, "Mission accomplished. Let's get started, shall we?" All I could do was dumbly nod, as my dick turned to diamonds in those shorts.

She sauntered over to me, and pushed me away from the machine in the center, towards the free weights machine.. As she pushed me onto the machine with her hand, she straddled the machine, and I got a really good look up that skirt she was wearing. The panty was something straight out of a fetish porn, more a belt than a panty to be honest. As she stood over me, she took my hands and put them on the bar above me, and then moved her hands to support the bar. An untraditional position to be sure, but if you were in my position, and liked girls, you'd have been as unconcerned about it as I was.

She held the bar while I started doing my set of pulldowns. My form started out sloppy, but with correction from her, and a decrease of blood flow to the little head and returning to the big head, I was able to get back into the workout.

After a series of workouts that circled the machines, we were on the inclined bench press machine. I'd already done most of my set when she frowned. "Something's missing...." She put the weight back on the rack, confusing me. As I started to get up, she stopped me with a hand on my chest, and then turned around and laid down on top of me. As I sat there confused, she put my hands back on the bar. I wasn't about to lift the bar with her like this, and as I started to complain, she wiggled her hips in just the right way to cause my words to die in my throat. "Something's off. I'm not sure what....Let's see..." She played with my hands a bit, moving them on the bar. "Your hands don't seem to be in the right place." She then grabbed my hands, and all thoughts about weight lifting went out of my head, as she put one over one of her breasts, and the other over her latex clad hip. My dick hardened quickly to this sudden change of events. She cupped my hand over the silver fabric she was wearing, letting me feel her erect nipples. "Much better, don't you think?"