Every Bonanzee has his Day (In Court)

 

As anyone who has ever been in a protracted legal dispute can tell you, it has a way of taking over your life completely until it is over, and the legal maneuvering can easily sidetrack the real issues until it becomes difficult to even remember what got your there in the first place.

That is what attorneys are for; they create a self-justifying need with each side upping the stakes (and fees) while still eventually getting to the heart of the case.

The real meat, bone and gristle of this case centered upon the question of what is sentience, and how is it measured, or determined to exist? Both sides insisted upon having their choice of interpreters of American Sign Language present to translate Frederick’s testimony.

Mark was the obvious choice for Frederick’s side. His credentials were flawless and indisputable. The opposition, represented by SAIC and Leidos (the subcontractors for the DOD) attempted at every point to marginalize the answers Frederick gave, and it was up to Mark to call them on it every time they did.

Both sides had their share of skeletons in their respective closets that neither wanted to have to share with the judge, jury or general public.

SAIC and Leidos although admittedly under the employ of the DOD, used the cloak of “National Security” to avoid discussion of (forgive me) a “Gorilla (actually “Guerilla”) Army” of primates being trained to do the government’s bidding.

So far, Ash, Merle and the other church officers of The Home for Wayward Souls had managed to keep the secret of The Fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil to themselves by restricting its use, knowledge and distribution to themselves, with only very select members of the ArchAngels and Anastasia being the only others who were privy to its existence.

Neither side wanted to have to explain or justify the full extent of their individual hidden agendas.

Charles and Lothar found themselves having to constantly upgrade their electronic security of the premises. Government spooks were constantly trying to invade the grounds to place cameras, transmitters and microphones everywhere imaginable to try to gather damaging Intel to use against their opposition.

Although Stanley had ostensibly been assigned to supervise the group and gather Intel as well as provide protection of PharmaCorp’s assets (Frederick), he secretly made sure there was no breach of the members’ privacy, even though he made sure that Charles and Lothar made the actual discovery of any bugs of any kind.

It became a larger-then-life full-time occupation for Charles, which was fortunate enough because he suddenly found himself unemployed by PharmaCorp after the meltdown of the “Talking Monkeys” project. Ten years of diligent hard work and a very impressive sale record meant nothing, once he was identified as working for the other side by virtue of being named as a church officer.

Florida, as well as most “Right to Work” states have complete legal impunity to fire anyone at any time for no reason whatsoever under the guise of the “business needs” of the employer with no recourse on the part of the terminated former employee. Period.

Ash assured Charles that he would always be an integral part of the church’s organization. Therein lay the difference between a job and work. Ash in fact insisted that Charles be paid a salary at least double his best hourly wages including commission and incentives. He did not have to punch a time clock, even an electronic one.

Imagine if da Vinci or Michelangelo worked for a modern corporation, say under the auspices of Michael Eisner and Disney.

Jobs may come and go, even if they rob you of every bit of energy, enthusiasm and joy a day at a time, but the real work of a person’s life is always there, forever waiting like an insatiable lover to be either ignored or satisfied; the choice is yours.

He knew what was needed and gladly worked incessantly until it was done, and there was no shortage of work, which for him was a labor of Love. He had a vested interest in every action he performed, and he felt, for the first time in his life that any and all of his knowledge and skills were needed and appreciated.

And he was trusted on a level that most family members never know (especially if an inheritance or an estate is involved so as to turn kin into adversaries).

This was as transparent a group of individuals as could ever be found, which was not without a certain degree of discomfort, adjustment and growth. Fortunately, The Knowledge also fueled the insight necessary to find acceptance of the truth.

It was during this time that Suki discovered that Charles and Anastasia had a history that went back more than twenty years ago when he was a faculty member at Miami-Dade Community College and she was an eighteen-year old aspiring film student.

She re-discovered him by pure accident when she went on her quest to write a story about the Kink/Fet community and Polyamory. She had originally used the name Stacey when she met Charles in school, which was simpler and more trendy back then, and she had changed her last name when she got married.

They had become quite an item for a while, but they drifted apart when she went back to LA, and Charles honestly did not initially recognize her despite their romantic history. Twenty years is a long time for appearances to change a person almost beyond recognition.

Anastasia was reluctant to broach the subject, and was a little bit stung by her pride because she thought that he did not remember her, when in fact, he did remember her…he just hadn’t recognized her.

It wasn’t until the three of them took The Knowledge together that Charles suddenly realized he was in the presence of a long-lost flame, and under the influence of such a powerful empathogenic drug, there can be no secrets, and Suki quickly sensed, and finally realized the full extent of Anastasia’s subterfuge.

And almost as quickly, they all came to the realization that Anastasia’s intentions were good overall; she had no axe to grind as far as intending to take Charles from Suki; she had her own hands full maintaining a very strong and loving relationship with her part-time absentee husband, and she and Suki both knew in their hearts that the love and friendship they had developed for each other almost eclipsed Anastasia’s earlier fascination with Charles.

You could say that the two women’s relationship with each other had all the earmarks of serendipity, and it was easy for both to trust each other’s intentions, given the transparency and inability of guile or falsity to exist in such a transcendent and intuitive atmosphere. There were able to trust their own hearts because they knew each other’s hearts.

Once that was out of the way they became as solid a triad as there ever has been. This sent a ripple through the entire group, pointing out once again how much emphasis the illusion of the need of most forms of privacy are largely rooted in some kind of secrecy that is unnecessary amongst such a truly sentient and telepathic group.

This event took all the members through a sort of quantum leap of self-realization as well as group consciousness from which there could not be any turning back.

They became as one.

Finally, both legal parties agreed upon one additional independent sign language interpreter hired by the court from a pool of available experts who seemed to be completely neutral regarding the issues at stake in an attempt to give the court a better idea of what might be regarded as a middle ground between two admittedly biased interpreters.

What no one else knew was that during Frederick’s well-rehearsed testimony he had the added advantage of silent telepathic prompting from Ash and Merle, who sat in the midst of the lawyers.

Frederick believed he had spent his entire previous life preparing for this moment in time, and the fate of all primates hung in the balance. He could not have been more ready for this test.

 

 

 

 

 

THFWS&TTM’s: A Tryst with a Twist

A Tryst with a Twist

 

Now the next part of our story gets a bit tricky; I mean, imagine two people who are only marginally acquainted with each other, but who nonetheless can’t wait to be alone together because they are filled with salacious curiosity and lust after each other in ways that approach biblical proportions to an extent that they can’t stop fantasizing about the next move, who will do what, etc. etc., all the while clairvoyant of each other’s thoughts, courtesy of a drug called The Fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil (which more than lives up to its moniker), chaperoned by an equally telepathic Chimpanzee/Bonobo hybrid.

Anastasia drove a fully-restored, customized 1981 DeLorean DMC-12 that had been a wedding gift from her husband. She was not fond of leaving it anywhere, but the Sanctuary was about the safest place she knew of, and there was no way she could have driven herself, Stan, and Frederick to the Habitat.

Fortunately, Stan used a company vehicle (a midnight-blue Ford Crown Victoria…what else would you expect from a G-man trying to look inconspicuous?) that was adequate to the task at hand. Frederick sat in the back seat.

Anastasia slid in next to Stan, although he insisted she wear the center seat belt if she did. She was short enough that she did not obscure his view of the rear-view mirror, although he was somewhat uncomfortable with her stroking the top of his right thigh while he drove. She sensed that his entire body stiffened as soon as she touched him, although some parts stiffened considerably more than others….

(“Maybe I should put a little lipstick on his dipstick…”)

(“There’s no way I can drive if she does that…no way Bob!”)

(“You mean bob the knob?”)

(“No! I mean I don’t think I could concentrate on driving while you were doing that…not that I wouldn’t like a rain check as soon as we stop…”)

(“Well, then pull the car over before you pass out from all the blood draining from your big head to your not-so-little head…”)

(“You do realize I know everything that you two are thinking, right?), added Frederick (…but don’t hold back on account of me…I’m not one to judge or criticize…”).

Without turning around, they both knew he had “taken himself in hand”, so to speak, and Anastasia found herself a little bit turned on by the prospect of imagining a monkey jerking off in the back seat while she blew Stanley in the front, but Stan would have no part of any of that, which disappointed Frederick a great deal more than it did Anastasia, although he did finish masturbating before Stan could stop him. Anastasia was luridly fascinated and watched while Stan pulled the car over and made Frederick clean up the mess with a roll of paper towels he kept in the car.

(“Well, Dudley Do-Right…you really are prepared for everything, aren’t you?”) Anastasia jokingly replied. (So since we’re already stopped, I could help you with that stiff joint problem you seem to have developed…”)

“God Almighty already, Anastasia! I promise I will fuck your brains out as soon as we get rid of Frederick and get back to my place…OK? You can suck my cock as long and as much as you want, but I gotta get this monkey out of my back seat and delivered safely to The Habitat…” Stan was so flustered by Anastasia’s frank sexuality that he did not bother to realize he was actually speaking out loud, or that the guard at the entrance to The Center for Primate Research, aka The Habitat heard everything he said as they rolled up.

(“Hey! Who the fuck are you calling a monkey, you over-muscled jackass?!?!…It’s Bonanzee, in case you forgot….”)

“Sorry…” said Stan.

“Excuse me, Mr. Linderman?” The guard was trying very hard to keep a straight face as it was. “If you’re in a hurry, I can take Frederick the rest of the way to his habitat, if that will help, sir.”

“No, but thanks Williamson…” said Stan as he signed the list on the clipboard.

“Just trying to help, sir” said the guard as he winked to Stan.

“That will be all…but thanks.” Although Stan was more embarrassed than aggravated, he gave the guard a look that implored Williamson’s humanity not to repeat what he had heard but that nonetheless stressed what a bad idea it would be if he did. Stan was generally a very jovial, likeable man in many ways, if you were not the target for his role as Intimidator, but he also had the reputation of being a terrible enemy for anyone stupid enough to piss him off.

“Say no more sir…discretion is my middle name…you and your guest have a good evening.”

In less than five minutes time, Frederick was safely returned to his home, and Stan was “Expediting” his return to his abode with Anastasia at his side.

“…and by the way, Yes…” said Anastasia…“and No….”

“Excuse me?” said Stan.

“Yes, I can deepthroat and swallow, and it’s shaved as clean as a whistle, and eventually, I’ll probably let you do anal, if you’re a really good boy…and yes, I’ve been tested…negative by the way…and I’m very discreet…and no, I’m not wearing any panties and practically never do; no, you don’t have to worry about my husband…he’s not at all the jealous type and he’s out of the country for at least another month, so you don’t have to take me home until morning if you don’t want to…and yes, I intend to make sure you’re way too tired to even think about driving before noon, and yes I can make you the best breakfast you’ve ever had if I do stay, but no, I won’t get my feelings hurt if I don’t…remember…I can hear every thought you have.”

“OK, well…yes I am circumcised and fairly closely trimmed, but not shaved; no, I have never had a problem with premature ejaculation…yes I am sure you can make me cum several times before dawn…yes I’ve been tested…also negative, by the way, yes I love kissing, cunnilingus, and cuddling, and the scent of a woman. No, I don’t especially want to take you back any time soon…yes, I’d love for you to spend the night…two can play at this game, it seems.”

Stan was just then pulling into the parking space at his apartment building. He turned to kiss her before he even shut off the motor or the headlights, which seemed strangely out of character for him. They kissed deeply and passionately for several minutes and Anastasia unzipped his fly and started to stroke his cock before he could regain his composure enough to suggest they take the party upstairs, where he promised to show her a very, very good time.

He had barely finished locking the door before she had his cock in her mouth. He dropped his pants and picked her up, grabbing her ass and teasingly pushing his member against her sopping-wet cunt lips, parting them and pulling back just enough to spread them just a little more each time before he finally impaled her so deeply it took her breath away for a moment, even though she was well-prepared for the thrust that nearly made her cum right then and there.

She could feel the head of his generous manhood all the way back to that small pocket way past her uterus that felt like he was rubbing the base of her spine…there was no more room after that. She remembered the Tantric reference to the Kundalini Gland as she felt waves of pleasure cascading up her chakras. He had a wide, flared corona that was considerably thicker than his generous shaft, and she could feel him filling the pocket with it, stretching it open farther that she thought possible. She’d had three children and a very generous and accommodating, but tight pussy, but the majic pocket he found was bringing her over the edge quicker than she had thought possible.

He turned his back to the wall beside the door as she kicked her shoes off and placed her feet flat against the wall as he grabbed her buttocks and repeatedly slammed her down upon his cock. She began to push off from the wall with her feet and legs until he was almost completely withdrawn from her snatch before he forced his prick back into her all the way up to his balls, which she could hear slapping against her ass every time he thrusted into her.

She began to cum, and moaned with such a guttural animal sound that it surprised even her to hear it. He continued to violate her savagely, going even faster and harder than before…and she loved it.

She was cumming so hard that she knew he could feel it as her body was wracked with spasm after spasm. She was so wet that she could feel it pouring out of her and soaking his legs and his pants which were still around his ankles as she let go of her hold on his shoulders, arching her back as he held her aloft from behind her, fucking her furiously and continuously until she finally felt his throbbing cock spewing and gushing inside her as he held her tightly to him until he stopped, feeling his viscous semen flooding every nook and crevice of her cunt, flowing out of him and into her as it gushed past his slowly shrinking pleasure-pole.

He dropped to his knees and let her back rest on the floor as he slowly and gently stroked his cock in and out of her until it was completely flaccid as she spit it out of her with a final contraction.

He sat back and took off his shoes and pulled off his trousers. The next day they would have taken on the appearance of a heavily glazed French cruller, and would provoke a curious smirk from the dry cleaner who tried to pretend not to notice when he dropped them off on Monday.

Anastasia wanted a cigarette so badly she wished she could taste it, but she already knew Stan was a non-smoker. They rejoined to the bedroom, where she decided to slake her oral fixations on Stanley instead.

(“So what is ‘pegging’ I wonder?”) Stan mused as he recalled some random thoughts he intercepted shortly after their initial coupling.

“Yee Gads! You don’t miss much for someone only so recently clairvoyant…we can cross that bridge sometime in the future, OK? Now don’t make me start imagining old, naked lesbian nuns on the toilet just to get a little privacy….” Anastasia blurted out loud, realizing she was going to have to be more careful about her musings until she (and Stan) were better acquainted. She had a distinct impression that he would not be “down with that” (at least initially), and was somewhat surprised at how naive he was in such matters.

“OK, but we need to have a truce about a few things…I already figured out your husband’s name is also Frederick, but you call him ‘Rick’…I don’t want to know what agency he works for and you can’t ask for whom I work. I may be new to reading minds, but I was trained in how to block thoughts and ideas from my mind in case I was captured and interrogated…not even under sodium thiopental, and we need to find ways to focus our imaginations on other things or it will get too complicated to enjoy each other’s company.”  Stan spoke softly as he stroked Anastasia’s hair while she laid her head on his stomach.

(“OK…I was taught not to talk with my mouth full, but we don’t need to worry about now, do we?”) She knew well enough he got the idea, however.

And for the rest of that night, well past dawn they kept their minds well occupied with other thoughts they were only too happy to share.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THFWS & TTM’s: The Son of Man Receives Sentience

…And now back to our regularly scheduled story about The Home for Wayward Souls and The Talking Monkeys…(all that hot sexy stuff about Charles and Suki was very nice adult entertainment and did provide a backstory for the main theme of the work at hand, and may have even gotten the attentions of a few more readers…) but when we last saw our heroes and heroines, they had just realized that Frederick had been decreed to be the “Missing Link” in their search for higher consciousness while partaking of their newly-discovered sacrament which they had dubbed “The Fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil”, an analog isomer of a drug that Merle was developing as a third-generation anti-depressant for PharmaCorp that possessed properties so unique and marvelous as to make psychedelic drugs look like Flintstone Vitamins…

THFWS: The Son of Man Receives Sentience

The rest of the next week was preoccupied with one thought, which was essentially a question. And out of the one question, many others were to follow.

And that first question was “Where do we draw the line?”

Next came “Are we even the ones to draw it? When man first branched off into a separate species, just what was it that suddenly made him so special? Now that we possess the essence of true sentience, (or at least another portion of it via The Knowledge) who are we to withhold it from other species? Is that line not simply drawn in sand? What’s the harm? Of what are we so afraid?”

The expression “Child is father to the man” came to mind. What Mark and Darcy had discovered, and learned from Frederick in terms of telepathic abilities hinted at potentials for great advances in human consciousness, and indeed, it would appear that in order to learn from Frederick it would suggest that they had an obligation to give as much as they got. Were they really so afraid of losing our presumed advantage as the apex of primate development that they were are willing to ignore the quantum leap that man could gain from extending his boundaries of sentience beyond mere words?

Man has lorded his use of language over other life forms so jealously that he has imprisoned himself in a cage of words that are constantly straining against their own limitations. There are all kinds of sentience. The fact that Man has chosen to define intelligence in the most self-serving sort of insecurity that precludes recognition of other forms of intelligence is evidenced by the fact that every time another primate exhibits some supposedly unique human characteristic, (like tool-making, or bargaining, or even trying to hide evidence of one’s own guilt) someone else will reinterpret that definition so as to in some way or another exclude the other primates from our special club.

In truth, our use of language and words has if anything obscured our ability to recognize Understanding unless it is defined by the very words that limit it.

It was unanimously agreed that the next session would involve giving The Knowledge to Frederick. In the case of some kind of meltdown or psychotic episode, tranquilizers would be available to be administered. Chimpanzees possess incredible strength, and on several occasions have savagely attacked, disfigured and even killed humans. As much as Mark and Darcy were inclined to trust Frederick, even they acknowledged that the risks should not be ignored.

It was Darcy that pointed out, for instance that ethically, they should obtain Frederick’s informed consent to take the drug by choice, rather than make the assumption that he even wanted to be subjected to what was admittedly an experimental procedure.

She and Mark agreed to interview Frederick in a way that would allow him to express himself as freely and completely as possible without simply injecting their own prejudices into their interpretations of his answers. It did not represent an easy task, and they realized that from a strictly scientific standpoint their interpretations would be considered highly suspect.

Then again, if you really want to learn to think outside the box you have to be willing to act outside the box…”First there is a mountain, then there is no mountain…then there is…”

And so it is with boxes as well.

In so doing, it could be argued that Man had chosen to become The Serpent. Then again, Man has been the one who has despoiled The Garden ever since he was ejected from it.