Chapter One

Las Vegas 2040

Edward Brady had accomplished perfection. He stood opposite his latest creation with a smile on his face and a stiff one in his pants. He might as well get a rise after creating a masterpiece for adult stimulation. He rarely enjoyed an erection any other time.

Edward's state-of-the-art sex chair was like nothing else he'd previously designed. Built for pleasure and efficiency, his steam-powered sex machine had made its first public debut the previous week.

An exhibitor at the Las Vegas Adult Toy Convention, Edward introduced his explicit furniture to an impressed crowd. His pieces were well received. Consumers went wild, inquiring about availability and pricing. Edward was the convention's star, noted for being an innovative scientist with a naughty mind and destined for greatness.

Women had swarmed his booth, draping their voluptuous bodies around his. Some of them slid their numbers in his pocket while others stood off to the side, shyly observing his sex chair with stars in their eyes and moistened lips. The crowd's support and enthusiasm was precisely what he'd needed.

His partners had been standing by, waiting for some kind of sign, a green light to begin production. They received their signal.

Every major network and some of the largest media conglomerates in the world, waited and watched. Edward Brady was already a household name.

Edward had one major regret—he had hoped to see his contraption in full operation prior to the convention but he hadn't gotten around to hiring a call girl to help him out. Now he was beginning to wonder. Would he have the opportunity to use his own products before others took his toys into their homes and tried them out in the comfort and privacy of their own bedrooms?

He was the inventor, the mastermind behind ground-breaking stimulation products. One would think he knew first-hand how consumers responded to his furniture and gadgets.

At the conference, a few volunteers hopped on the equipment long enough to see if they found the contraption comfortable enough for personal use but a public sex show was strictly prohibited. What a shame. He'd hoped he might have a few volunteers stay after the main exhibit halls closed but security was tight and Edward left the convention feeling as if he missed out on a more appropriate grand finale.

Edward studied the chunks of square coals tossed under the ultimate sex seat. His gaze darted between the first stationary version he'd produced and the bars supporting one of his mobile locomotive units. He wondered then how he'd want his woman positioned if he in fact, had a woman. Would he want her spread out before him, attached to one of the leading-edge floor models? No, he would much rather watch the ultimate of sex shows as the avant-garde contraption carried a willing lady over a circular track created for continual titillation.

Edward focused on one of the first adult toy designs his company manufactured. He'd come a long way since he'd contrived those initial products. In the early days, he thought the see-saw affect of the dildo glider unit couldn't be trumped. Now, Edward would much rather watch a fervid woman splay her legs over the hinged toys attached to the pleasure track. Any woman could perch on her knees and slide back and forth awaiting penetration but it took a true goddess to manage the arousing affects of his latest discovery.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to envision an attractive participant who'd enjoy his playthings most. When he couldn't imagine anyone vividly enough, he opened his eyes. “Oh well, beautiful minds rarely experience carnal pleasures."

He gaped at the leather support carriage and considered the triangular center. Far be it for anyone to ever say he hadn't created toys for the exhibitionist. If someone wanted to be a grandstander, they could entertain the best of perverts with the elevated supports and an open stage.

Edward would love to have a bird's eye view. He finally pictured a busty brunette, stretching her legs and accepting the first toy, moaning and arching for the first orgasm only to lose it right when least expected. And then another intrusive object would swirl around her opening, jerking inside her, only to sliver down a metal shaft and allow yet another toy to take its position.

The whole time, the gorgeous test subject would be strapped in place, five feet off the ground, waiting and wondering what the sensual train held in store next. Edward resigned himself to face the facts. Few women knocked on his door and fewer still would volunteer to display themselves for his private viewing.

Trust had to be established. Most women didn't just strip down to nothing, hop on a ladder, climb onto the dangling monkey bars connected to the swinging harness and take their explicit seat. For starters, those under them had an exceptional view of all body parts. Then there were other valid concerns. Once a woman strapped herself in the chair she was pretty much stuck there until the pleasure train coal compartment was either removed from the tracks or the conductor ran out of coal.

Those in Las Vegas who'd heard the rumors would realize chances were slim he'd ever run out of coal. Edward's family, after they'd learned of Edward's inventions, had bought out the remaining mining operations in the States. His family had a lot of faith in Edward's abilities and Edward had access to plenty of coal.

Returning to the trial run, Edward knelt next to the rails supporting the poles. He stared up at the full body harness.

Wow, so this is the scenic view those operating the pleasure train will soon have.

Edward poured water over the coals in the first cart. He studied the main constraints, a body suit with a lovely black collar, one the average Dom would certainly admire. The straps dangled from the rig. Slowly, the bars rowed into place and the harness above swayed. Perfect, he thought, checking the numerous toys housed in their independent boxcars below. He fiddled with the dildos and vibrators fastened to interchangeable rotating springs. Once he confirmed their intended functionality, he stood back and watched.

In a matter of minutes, the small independent enclosures followed the outfit as the love train moved around the oval track. The small boxcar in front of the passenger compartment found momentum once the coals thoroughly heated.

Fully powered by steam, the toys wiggled under the bodysuit, shifting one at a time. Designed to halt every sixty seconds, the shoo-shoo noise compared to the sound of a locomotive only it was much quieter, less likely to disturb others with the annoying clamor of a fuller choo-choo sound released by its much larger transportation counterpart.

While in a full rotation, also considered a cycle, toys were released and inserted between the limb sleeves, running complete phases just as its inventor had hoped. During the first stage, a small toy emerged and the stimulation of the user would potentially begin in the initial rotation.

The first object was used to arouse, created to massage around the opening of a vagina. As the erotic happenstance continued, other mechanisms came into play. Another vibrator would later be enjoyed at various speeds and angles with the final phase introducing an eleven-inch dildo. The last gadget was a special little number, designed to twirl, jerk and practically hop inside the recipient's opening. Once there, it would lock in place and remain until the lead cart ran out of coal or someone took mercy on the individual experiencing the ultimate simultaneous pleasure.

Unfortunately, everything was open to speculation. Even the test runs couldn't guarantee perfect end results but Edward was confident.

The whispering of steam wreaked havoc on Edward's balls. He'd give anything to see a woman moving over him then. Her legs would spread and her pussy lips would glisten. He'd watch her facial expressions when ecstasy took hold and he'd covet her cries, moan even if she required his full participation.

At this rate, he'd take his hand to his cock and give her a becoming show too. The ability to enhance pleasure and revel in the limited time spent with such a magnificent piece of machinery was for the greater good.

"Beautiful,” he bellowed, marveling in his expertise and feeling satisfied the product worked well at full capacity. Clapping his hands, Edward walked toward another area of the loft. He suddenly had an idea for a state-of-the-art adult gizmo.

The familiar sound of bumps and jars associated with the erotic rig and small coal compartment filled the hallway. Edward muttered to himself, jotting down simple notes for his latest gadget design—a wind-up dildo with a vibrating silent alarm perfect for those in the BDSM community.

He could almost see the Doms flocking to the adult stores to make their purchase. They'd inform their submissives of their recent buy, show them the little timer and swear to make them wear the trinket in public if they stepped out of line. “Ah, ‘s magnificent,” he whispered.

Edward tapped the end of his pen against his bottom lip, drifting into deep concentration. He needed to incorporate several ideas if he expected his partners to come off the money for a new production factory.

Customers would expect their novelty items to deliver extraordinary pleasure but the select target market would count on availability. Edward and his partners would need to handle the demand. An assembly line was absolutely necessary along with trial products thoroughly tested for durability. They needed satisfaction guaranteed, literally.

If Edward's exotic furniture pieces didn't rake in a fortune, the hand-held devices should. Powerful men showed remarkable interest in some of Edward's discoveries. Doms training subs and domestic slaves offered their input and early market analysis suggested Edward's product line would command a handsome price.

Edward scribbled out a few final notes and then stalled. He bent his ear when he heard the swish-swoosh sound and then what sounded like a crowbar clanking against one of the interior metal slides, put in place to hold the track together. Great, he mused, jotting down a few anticipated dimensions for a new steam wand.

A broken ka-boom made his head jerk. He hit the lamp overhead and then vacated his small desk area. The last thing he needed was a catastrophe on the tracks. With his investors demanding product delivery and the final budget meeting only days away, Edward wasn't in the mood to fix another shattered cart or untangle yet another harness. Besides he was in the midst of a personal celebration—counting cash, planning for retirement, thinking about stock options, envisioning his twenty million dollar oceanfront estate and Oh. My. God.

He stopped and closed his eyes. Oh, he just couldn't bear it. Without a doubt, he faced another glitch.

The scratchy static of fastening tape alerted him to a major interruption, a malfunction in the equipment. He'd promised his partners their sexual gratification furniture line was not only perfected but guaranteed for up to a thousand uses. This particular invention had been a breakthrough really. No one sold anything like it on the market.

A scraping noise assured him something was definitely wrong. A dragging vibration resonated throughout the room, becoming louder and louder until the faint similarity of fingernails scratching across a chalkboard came to mind.

Edward was familiar with his equipment. He could detect a problem in his sleep and not only was he about to face a damaged piece of extravagant equipment, but something else too. There was another first taunting his eardrums.

Fabric rubbing together didn't happen in trial runs in the privacy of his home. The friction between buckles fastening and nylon brushing against molded material alerted Edward that he was not alone.

An intruder had entered his home.

Hooks snapped and the pleasure train began another steady rotation. The quiet shoo-shoo whispered around the corner. Edward's breath caught in his lungs. This only happened at the conventions. At the demonstrations, women stood in line for hours just so they could climb aboard one of the most provocative seats in the house.

Edward's palms were clammy. All he had to do was walk around the partition and take a peek at his design. There was a reasonable explanation. Maybe a partner had let himself in, perhaps toting along one of their significant others in hopes they could give their loved one an erotic trip around the world of pleasure Edward created.

Maybe that would make sense if anyone could enter his compound. He had more locks and security than Fort Knox.

Edward was becoming a mad scientist. He longed for a volunteer, an assistant who would perform the dutiful task of trying out his merchandise. Then, maybe his imagination wouldn't get the best of him.

A low guttural moan filled the room.

A waft of an enticing womanly fragrance filled the air. Soft whimpering soon followed. A couple of choice words and Edward was certain he had company. Someone had breached his security and a stranger, a female nonetheless, was in his lab!

Edward marched around the corner. His jaw dropped when he saw a beautiful image reflecting from the large picture window overlooking the city. He stretched his neck and peered around the low wall, eyeing the track and the seat that should've housed the woman in the reflection. The chair swayed back and forth but no one was there.

He backed away from the divided area housing his equipment and blinked several times, certain his imagination was running wild and quite positive he was delusional. He was overworked and had spent too much time in his lab teetering along the certifiable line of madness. Logical reasoning explained everything else.

"Edward,” a voice called out. “Edward, darling, come closer."

Edward froze. The audio hallucinations faded in the background and Edward focused on the familiar mechanisms of his Las Vegas flat—the soft hum of the heating and cooling unit, the annoying clang of coins he'd left in his pocket when he tossed his jacket in the dryer, and the whoosh-whoosh sound from the unit above when his neighbor, Mrs. Foray, flushed her commode.

Then the unthinkable occurred. The contraption halted. A new rhythm was set when a rubber cock idled on its still podium awaiting the jolting call to duty. Edward knew his machine well. The quick hitch made a louder sound, a more profound noise when an occupant sat in the love chair maneuvering around the track.

Seconds later, soft cries of pleasure echoed around him. Edward choked on expectation, practically believing he stood inches away from the very woman he imagined in the glass reflection. If imagery painted such a glorious picture, wouldn't the real thing be more enticing, far more seductive, than anything he'd ever seen in his life? Of course, but he could only see her in the window!

His gaze returned to the reflection. Beyond the glass, the Las Vegas high rises towered over the busy streets. Fountains danced to mesmerizing waltzes and a new casino shot off the first round of fireworks decorating the summer sky. But that's not what held his attention. The parting of naturally spread legs grabbed him and refused to let him go. What he'd give to stand in front of the image and discover the woman there wasn't a dream, but had come to him as a test subject, waiting to ride out the first of many artificially inspired orgasms.

Edward cleared his throat and processed the possibility. Could he have inherited groupies from the convention? Was it possible some of the women he'd met at the demonstration followed him home in hopes of having a more intimate experience with one of his toys? And if so, what did that mean? Would he finally have sex with a respectable slut, a woman who knew what her intentions were and didn't mind to voice those needs, challenge someone to bring those desires to life?

He'd place his money on vivid illusions and auditory hallucinations. A safe bet, he thought, considering he looked around the partition and found no one staring back at him. He was overworked, so tired in fact, he imagined a ghost.

Truckers often saw large black dogs with red eyes when they traveled on the interstate for too long. Some told of two-headed creatures the size of ponies. Edward hadn't experienced the black dog, but then again he wasn't a truck driver. He was a scientist, an inventor of stimulating toys and furniture. He didn't see dark four-legged beasts. Oh no, he had a trained mind, a newfangled imagination.

Edward saw a two-legged model with flaming red hair and other noticeable features. He rubbed his eyes and squinted at the reflection again.

Shit! She was still there.

He was acquainted with the zipline sound of products moving on pipe-like podiums, but he wasn't accustomed to hearing the soft pleas, the groveling of a woman. When the toys he designed were appropriately secured—in their intended places—for pleasurable intentions, they buzzed and hummed a little differently. Case in point, he thought, paying attention to the varying muffled zinging. It was crucial now. He had to see for himself, take time for a closer inspection.

Edward took a deep breath and traipsed back around the corner, fully expecting to be disappointed as he had been moments before, certain the pronounced silhouette he'd watched was nothing more than an illusion. His head immediately jerked toward the upper end of the tracks. Secured in a leather harness was quite possibly one of the most beautiful women Edward had ever seen.

Unable to speak for fear she might disappear, Edward remained committed to his belief. The woman was a figment of his imagination and he'd seen her somewhere before, years and years ago. He remembered watching a show—The Missing Link—about a wealthy madam who'd disappeared. Her body had never been found but she was presumed dead. He remembered her because rumor had it, she'd once lived in the very loft where he resided.

Now, it was starting to make sense. He was staring at a blasted ghost.

"Oh God, Edward!” she screamed. “You're such a fucking dream!"

He was thinking along the same lines. Only a ghost wouldn't have been responsive to this sort of stimulation. He could see the damp moisture between her legs, the glistening texture of her pussy lips.

Edward raised his gaze and studied her hard nipples. Tiny, well-shaped beads extended. His balls throbbed with a slow burn, a cautious awakening of lust rarely stirred in a man who seldom found himself in the company of a woman.

The woman's curls cascaded over thin ivory shoulders. Her slender body possessed gentle curves in just the right places which included a shapely bottom and long legs—now opening and closing, fighting for the relief his toy would soon bring.

"Oh Edward,” she mumbled, biting down on her finger and riding the train toward another sub-station.

His heart slammed against his chest, tapping out a broken rhythm. His mind's eye created a fool's paradise. He not only saw a woman using his sex train for personal gratification, but he also heard her torn cries. He saw the way her body responded, watched—because he couldn't turn away—while she took one orgasm and held her breath, awaiting one more.

Another stop came and went. A dildo retracted, returning to a circular platform. The next toy was inserted, an ultra-smooth dancing dildo so long, he had originally wondered if any of the convention goers would wince when they viewed the object.

The crowd reception had been shocking. Women cheered and men, those of whom had first worn wicked smiles when they'd coaxed their women into viewing the machine, placed folded hands in front of their tented pants. Perhaps they expected an immediate comparison. The vast majority didn't have a preacher's prayer of measuring up. Edward stood taller. He may have been the exception there. He was blessed, or perhaps cursed, in that department.

His focus returned to his guest. Then again, maybe he had it right the first time. She sure looked content up there.

The large simulated cock locked in place, wedging its way into the woman's pussy. She threw her head back and grunted with the impalement, dropping her hands over her luscious full breasts around the same time.

When the cart swung around the widest corner, her legs spread more, deliberately allowing for a curious spectator's viewing. Edward had dreamt of a moment like this.

Her knees fell to the side and his gaze remained between her legs. The dildo worked in and out of her body with fast, steady beats, following a pre-determined tempo gauged by the recipient's body heat.

Apparently, the woman wasn't opposed. She bit on her lip and looked down the length of her body as if captivated by the continual penetration.

"Faster.” She raised her gaze to meet Edward's. “Please, Master,” she emphasized, practically purring.

Edward chuckled. If she only knew how much steam his creation would soon release.

Designed to tantalize and tease a woman for up to a full hour, Edward set his timed trial demonstrations for ten minutes. His newcomer would have more than her fill by the time the buzzer sounded.

He took a seat on the end of his work bench and watched the entire show, certain if he glanced away the incredible beauty would disintegrate into thin air as if she were nothing more than destined to evaporate with the steam.

On the final trip around the tracks, an unexpected occurrence shocked him. The woman broke free of the harness and stood before him with outstretched arms.

"What the hell have you done?” he asked, sprinting to the front cart and disengaging the automatic locks so he could shut down operations.

"You're a genius, if I do say so myself,” she said, dabbing a bead of sweat away from her brow while moistening her lips and looking right at his cock. “Then again, I haven't had sex in a few decades. I guess beggars can't be selective."

He rubbed the swell of his jaw. Was someone playing a trick on him, perhaps another inventor he'd met at the convention?

Edward pushed his glasses up, situating the spectacles on the bridge of his nose. “Who are you?"

"It's hardly proper for a woman to introduce herself without her clothes. Even back in my glory days at The Love Parlor, I made sure I always greeted my clientele fully clothed and dressed to charm a man right out of his pants."

"I don't have a problem losing mine,” he grumbled, quite sincere after what he'd witnessed.

She patted his face. “I'm sure that's true. I've had my eye on you, Mr. Brady. If you didn't have such a good strong arm, I'd highly recommend The Love Parlor. My old place is only about a thirty minute drive outside of Las Vegas. I could take you there."

"I believe I'll pass,” he mumbled.

"I don't blame you,” she noted, checking out his ass. “I tell you what. Let me just grab something to wear and I'll be back in a flash. Then, we can talk business. Sound good?"

She didn't wait for a reply. Instead she disappeared down the hallway. A few minutes later, she stood at the first landing overlooking the dining room, the area Edward used to display his inventions. “Are you coming?"

Edward cleared his throat. He was afraid to follow her, afraid if he allowed her to make too much of an impression, she might vanish.

God, he was so pathetic! He'd obviously just met a ghost and here he was scared to move, terrified if he did, she'd disappear and he wouldn't have the opportunity to get to know her better. And just how chummy could someone be with a damned ghost?

"I'll be right there,” he said softly, treading the same path she'd walked. He took the circular stairway and climbed the stairs one at a time. He even paused when he reached the upper loft, thinking if he stood there for another minute or so, the whole ghost thing would be over and he could return to work.

"Edward! I'm waiting!"

Great. Not only did he have a ghost in house, he had a demanding, feisty blast from the past with a mighty big mouth.

He entered his master bedroom. Much to his astonishment, the large walk-in closet housed a female's wardrobe. Apparently the woman had moved right in without seeking permission. She strutted across the carpet unashamed of her gloriously nude body. She zipped in and out of the walk-in. Tossing her garments on the bed, she stood back to consider which suit matched the high-heeled shoes she kept moving next to one outfit and then another.

"Ladies who hope to make an impression choose their shoes first,” she explained. “Then they choose what they'd like to wear."

"Where are my clothes?"

"Oh don't worry,” she said, tapping his arm in passing. “I haven't burned your things."

"Thanks,” he replied. “I think."

"Don't look so surprised,” she commented, strolling over to the large walnut armoire. “The real estate agent told you when you made the purchase that strange and unusual things were known to happen here."

"You're Heidi Labeidi, aren't you?” he asked, watching the way she gracefully stepped into a light colored thong.

"Don't ask stupid questions, Edward,” she said, bending over and slapping her ass. Releasing a girlish giggle, she sashayed across the room again.

Edward took a minute to study the features of the woman who was obviously proud of her assets. She dipped one leg into her pants and then another, jumped a little so her hips could glide right into place and then muttered, “I think I've put on a few pounds."

Edward's mouth watered. After watching her breasts bounce, he imagined the weight she referred to with distaste landed in her chest. He was rock hard and defying an erection wasn't an option.

When the average woman wanted to draw a man's eye, she typically knew how. This one didn't have any problem holding his attention.

"What should I call you?” he asked, making a last effort to gain confirmation of who wandered into his apartment.

"Heidi,” she replied, foregoing the red blouse and shrugging into the double-breasted jacket. “Then again, I've been called just about everything—Madam, slut, whore—I answer to them all."

She grabbed a few bracelets from a dressing table Edward had never spotted in his bedroom before and then faced him. “What do you think?” she asked, running her palms across her breasts. She planted her hands on her waist. “Do I look like the kind of roommate you can tolerate?"

Edward's gaze fixated on her tits. He was a man. She was a woman. And he was horny. What did she expect?

"What a naughty boy you are, Edward. You hide behind these saucy developments of yours but you don't use them, do you?” She looked out the picture window. “I plan to change that. You work so hard to bring others satisfaction, Edward, but from what I've watched, you rarely enjoy any yourself. We have to do something about that."

He had a few things in mind.

"So what do you say you take me out to dinner? Let's get to know one another."

"Dinner?"

"We're going to be living together, aren't we?"

"I haven't decided,” he answered her, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck.

Heidi stroked his cheek. “Oh my darling boy, I should've told you from the start. You don't have a decision in the matter. This is my home and I don't have the first inclination to leave."

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