008 – Married

vers 1.1

Brad walked back towards the door as he listened to Jenny talk. Sobbing might be a better description.

He unconsciously thumbed a button on his phone. It started recording his conversation, saving everything back from the time he answered the phone using his DVR app.

He had loved Jenny once, but above all else, Brad new how to cover his ass. He also benefited from the knowledge that he lived in a single party approval state where only one party had to agree to recording a call. For Rubenz and almost every other police officer it made the move almost second nature anyway. Hell, he probably would have recorded the call regardless just to be able to listen to her voice again later.

"...and then I was checking my messages between classes and I received a video message. I thought it was just spam at first, but then I saw Terry's birth mark on his thigh and realized that no spam video program was good enough to include that personal of a detail. Sure his ex-wife or maybe an old college girlfriend might have submitted his naked image to one of those boyfriend revenge services, but Terry just wasn't the kind of asshole that would piss off a girlfriend in that way. He was always so passive aggressive that . . .. sobs . . . tell me its not true, Brad, tell me it was just spam. Is Terry alright?" Jenny was rambling and sobbing almost incoherently.

"Jenny, take a deep breath. Now tell me what you are talking about. Terry who?" Brad asked. He purposefully didn't include the last name of his victim, whom he hadn't even had a chance to see yet. This could just be some weird twisted coincidence, but his gut told him he wasn't going to be that lucky tonight.

" Terry McBoyd. My husband? You sent us a wedding present. That was how I knew you were finally over me." Jenny said.

"Jenny, I . . . I never" Brad started to say.

"Detective Rubenz, we've got work to do. Dispatch has another call for us, so can we get this hand over of the crime scene moving" Scinlin said. She had walked up behind him and when she spoke Rubenz had almost caught her in the face with his elbow holding the phone.

"Shit. Sorry. No not you Jenny. Jenny, I have to call you back." he said while holding up a hand to stall Scinlin. He clicked off the phone. Jenny was married? Who had sent her a wedding present. Wait! Jenny was married to the dead guy in the other room. The guy who had had his dick cut off? What the hell was going on here. He was cursing the situation in his mind so much he could hardly concentrate on what he should do next.

"Detective! You've got about 1 minute to pull your head out of your ass and get moving or we are out of here and you can just start over." Scinlin was looking really steamed now.

"OK, let's get to it." Rubenz switched his phone to silent and headed toward the door. "Give me the run down from the point of the discovery of the victim."

"Sure thing, Detective. We'll meet you on the inside in 5 minutes," Scinlin sneered. And the pair turned and headed for a corner where they were working to finish up and synchronize their logs in preparation for handing the scene over to Rubenz.

Continue to Next Chapter - 009 – Penis Parts, Pallets and other P…..

Editorial Note I believe I need a structural change/correction in this chapter

[b1]Didn’t Scinlin already do the handover, should this just be the police officers showing him the crime scene?

007 – Need for a Penis

Version 1.2

Nicky wasn't sure what she was doing. She had always had tremendous self control, never drank much, never did drugs, never had an addictive personality. She had always been the rock in every relationship she had ever had, whether it was with Colton, her sisters, her classmates, friends and even her parents.

Her father was an alcoholic and her mother had struggled with prescription drugs, long before Colton was aware of such things, but both were better now, for the most part. They had obsessive compulsions of less destructive varieties these days. Her dad now loved to clean, while running had become one of her mother’s greatest passions.

Nicky closed her eyes and felt the receptors attach themselves again. She had Colton's Beta Penis 3.3 with the latest software update attached to the palm of her hand. She was rubbing herself slowly with her other hand as she slowly started to lick her penis, breathing in slowly and blowing out hot air on the skin of the wet member that was now part of her hand.

It didn't matter where the penis was attached. It always felt natural and a part of her. Right now, as she licked her penis and rubbed herself, it felt more natural and amazing than anything she could think of.

She started to suck, applying even more pressure to her penis, taking the penis in her mouth with more pressure, nipping it just slightly with her teeth in that way that she had learned was just right.

She was moving her other hand faster and faster as she approached the start of a nice but shallow clitoral orgasm. Just as it hit, her penis started cuming, and hard. The cum that came from the Penis 3.3 was sweet almost like the filling of a candy Easter egg.

She stopped sucking long enough to gasp and breath. She took her penis-hand and moved the head of her penis into her vagina. She started moving in a plunging motion while maintaining an amazing amount of pressure in the perfect area. She shifted it down low and then with her other hand started teasing her clitoris again. A wave of orgasm, deep and amazing, rolled through Nicky. Her back arched and she was temporarily paralyzed.

Her breathing slowed. The room stopped spinning, even though she had not noticed the movement earlier.

"Are you finished?" Colton stood there across the room. He was standing rigid in the doorway of the bathroom, the same place where he had caught her using his cock six months ago.

"Colton, I promise this will be the last time, I just needed one . . ." Nicky started to say. Then she saw what was in Colton’s hand. She screamed.

Colton lunged forward and grabbed Nicky by the wrist, the one that was still attached to her penis.

"You're damned right. This is never going to happen ever again." he said.

Nicky screamed and screamed, looking at what he held in his hand. She thought, “He’s going to kill me!”

Colton lifted his hand, holding a large combat knife. It swung down in an arc and sliced clean through her penis.

A bit of blood, or what looked like blood, squirted from the base of the penis, and the device suddenly detached from the palm of her hand.

But Nicky didn't notice any of this, at first. What she experienced was a blinding flash of light and then an amazing wave of orgasm that consumed her entire body.

Her screams of fear turned into gasping moans of pleasure as wave after wave of orgasm racked her body, past the point of muscle failure. It seemed to last for ten minutes.

Then the light returned and she could see again.

Colton looked absolutely sick. He was holding a knife blooded from cutting off his own penis.

"You are the most fucked up person I've ever met. Not even the sickest people I met in Afghanistan could compete with you. You fucking disgust me, Nicky”

He calmly walked to the closet and pulled a shirt off a hangar. He reached down and grabbed a duffle bag on the floor.

Nicky could see that the duffle bag was packed full, and wondered when Colton had packed it.

Colton walked out of the room.

Nicky heard the front door open, then slam shut. She knew he wouldn't be back. He had warned her that if he ever caught her again, he'd leave and never come back. She believed him, but she didn't care.

She had just experienced something so unbelievable, an orgasmic experience so beyond the 'real' thing that it was like the difference between a chaste hand shake and a multiple orgasm.

Nicky knew one thing absolutely and completely.

She needed a new penis.

Continue to Next Chapter - 008 – Married

006 – Never Again

vers 1.1

"Just shut the fuck up, I can't talk to you now.  I have to get to my interview.  I have to be out of this apartment." Jesse was saying.

Jessy was crying, "I'm so sorry.  I don't know what came over . . "

"Enough!"  Jesse yelled.  "You are never ever to touch my penis when it’s not  . .. attached to me. Never!"

Jessy nodded, sobbing feeling terrible for what she had done.

He walked out of the kitchen and back to the bedroom.  He looked at the dresser where his Beta Penis stood, erect.

"Fuck" he muttered.  His penis was still covered in drying fake sperm.

He walked over, picked it up, walked to the bathroom, jerked the faucet on hot and rinsed off his dick in the sink.

He unfastened his dress belt and suit pants.  Dried his dick on a hand towel and then jammed it into his pants where the receptors fused with his skin.

His penis throbbed as if he had just had sex.

Suddenly, Jesse was sick, puking into the sink as the feeling in his penis conflicted totally and completely with the image of his wife  . . . with a penis, jerking off, with his penis, his unattached penis.  He had no penis.  His wife Jessy, had a penis.

"Fuck FUCK, fuck, fuck, fuck" he growled.

He rinsed the vomit down the drain, grabbed his tooth brush and tooth paste.  He started to put the tooth paste on his tooth brush looking at the brush.

It was shaped in the form of a naked woman with big plastic tits.  It had been a gag gift for his birthday from his brother trying to cheer him up while he was deployed.  He always felt like it was a good luck charm, until the explosion.  Now he knew the fucking thing was a curse.

He launched it across the bathroom.  Jerked open a drawer and pulled out a brand new tooth brush that Jesse had tried to get him to use after he got back.

He brushed the taste out of his mouth.  Double checked his shirt and tie.  Walked out of the bathroom, grabbed a shoulder satchel with resumes, his dd 214, birth certificate, social security card and other documents on a chair and walked out of the house without a look or a word in Jesse's direction.

005 – Rev3lation

Version 1.2

Nicky was a morning person. She had always felt more aroused in the morning, but Colton’s biological clock had spun even further out of sync with her own since he came home.

He would get horny in the middle of the night just when her energy level was lowest. She could not quite work herself up to a real orgasm at 1 am. Seven hours later at 8 am she was on fire, fully awake and usually fully aroused, but Colton rarely got out of bed before 11. Even though the electronics were always on, his mental hard-on wasn't any use to anyone, until after he downed at least one cup of coffee. When he had been . . . . in the flesh, early morning ‘groggyness’ kept all systems down. Nicky knew better now and that had created more stress.

Colton had a new cock, a rocking hard cock that would literally be turned on at the push of a button located under the skin, but Colton would never go for that. He wanted to get his dick hard the old fashioned way, thinking about it, foreplay etc. Any button pushing just reminded him that his dick wasn't the real thing, but god did it look and feel like the real thing.

Today was a little different. Colton had a job interview at 10 am, his first. He was finally venturing out and towards something that seemed like the future and not the past.

Nicky was ecstatic, but when she tried to rouse Colton in a little play before he rolled out of bed, he was groggy and a little on the mean side. That was the other thing, it was one thing for him to be groggy and out of the mood when he first woke up but another for him to resonate like an asshole with an attitude.

She gave up, rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. No luck, she felt frustrated. After fifteen minutes listening to him shave, she had worked up the courage to go throw herself at him in the shower.

She quietly walked into the bathroom. She saw his leg sitting there and remembered that shower sex was not an option. His prosthetic penis just didn't work as well in steamy shower water. Something about the osmosis effect of steamed water could sometimes trigger the beta penis 3.1 to release and let go from the skin attachments.

The fucking military couldn't even pony up the money for a first class penis 5.0. She was simultaneously mad with all three of them again, the military, the government and Colton for not being careful enough in Afghanistan. He had to go and be some kind of god damned hero.

Then she saw it sitting there. It was erect as it always was in storage mode. She could tell by the outline of his body through the shower curtain that he was feeling morose again. He always felt terrible when he was reminded of losing his leg.

She just couldn't handle it today. She had been strong and supportive of him for too many days since his return home.

Today, she just needed a quick orgasm and then she could go about her day. She didn't need to absorb his problems, save that for tonight after the interview and probable failure.

She was just about to turn and walk out of the bathroom when she saw his penis again, erect. Almost without thinking about it, she grabbed it and walked out of the bathroom. It felt warm, exactly 98.6 degrees. If she was quick, she could have a quick orgasm and get on with her day.

She almost laughed to herself, happy that her husband couldn't see her. She half hopped back into bed, got under the sheets, wriggled out of her panties and started to massage herself with her finger.

She heard him in the shower and thought she'd have to speed this process up just a bit. She laid the penis beside her on the bed as she rolled halfway over to reach for the night stand to grab the pink bottle of baby oil to add some lubrication.

Just as she was reaching in the drawer, she felt something amazing. Colton's penis suddenly attached to her belly. The nano tech receptors had come into contact with the skin on her belly.

The Beta penis receptors thought her skin was the skin that should trigger attachment. They grasped and fused with her skin. Suddenly she could feel this amazing feeling as blood seemed to pulse through her veins through . . . her throbbing penis.

The penis was part of her. It was hard and it was throbbing. She touched it just at the tip and a quick groan escaped her lips. That felt amazing. She touched again and started to grasp . . . her penis with her right hand.

'Ohhhh' the word groaned out of her lips unconsciously.

That was so easy. It wasn't quite like the feeling of a clittorally stimulated orgasm but it felt just as good. She started stroking the penis with her hand lightly skimming the skin like she normally did when giving Colton a hand job. He always seemed to love it, but it didn't feel quite right.

She squeezed a little harder and started rubbing the member underneath the skin, the skin of her penis sliding just a bit as she moved up and down the shaft.

Without realizing it, she reached down with her left hand and started to touch herself. Her penis was throbbing and as she pressed and rubbed against her clitoris it almost instantly started throbbing too. She was amazingly wet unlike anything she had ever . ..

A clitoral orgasm swept over her in a wave of pleasure. She squeezed her penis even harder, jerking upwards without letting go, when all of a sudden; she felt the penis throb and squirt. She jerked again and again; and then faster and faster untilll...

Nicky could feel something sticky on her upper stomach and breasts. She opened her eyes, looking first at the penis staring her in the face still wet with cum. Then, Nicky’s turned a little to the right, and her eyes focused on the doorway between the bedroom and bathroom where she saw Colton's frozen face full of revulsion and disgust.

Continue to Next Chapter 006 – Never Again

004 – Discovery

iteration 1.2

Colton was sitting on a special non-slip chair in the shower. Showers used to invigorate Colton. Now they were just a constant reminder of the challenges that would face him for the rest of his life.

He extended to reach the soap and almost lost his balance from the seat of the specially designed chair in the shower. He started scrubbing his leg. Then for the umpteenth time, he twisted to scrub his other leg before he realized it wasn't there.

He hated these reminders.

Colton had been in Afghanistan towards the end of the 6th Deck when he had been hit by shrapnel from a grenade, which triggered the explosion at an opium processing lab. Nation building in Afghanistan had only fueled the black tar heroin industry and more war but not much else.

Colton had been a draftee. The draft had been reinstated in the 4th Deck. Men and women had given their lives fighting for their country for hundreds of years, when volunteers were called. The citizens of the USA also had a long history of dodging the draft when volunteers weren't enough.

They typically didn't mind fighting for what they believed in, by choice, but not by god when there was no choice involved. Colton's great grandfather, a draft dodger from the Vietnam era had been furious when Colton had not dodged. Colton wished he had had a better understanding of his great grandfather, who had pleaded with him to run. But dodging in the 2060’s wasn’t as easy as dodging in 1960’s.

Colton had been a black sheep. He was always out of step with his family, which itself was out of step with almost everyone. That made Colton almost normal. Now, he was normal like most of the veterans from the never ending Afghanistan war.

He was incomplete in body and mind.

He rinsed off and turned off the water. He reached outside the shower for his towel and started drying the remainder of his leg.

He had lost his leg just below the hip. He had to make sure that his leg was very dry before he could attach the prosthetic. The prosthetic looked exactly like his real leg; it even had the same birth mark on his thigh just above his knee. Full visual body scans of soldiers made it possible to create replacement prosthetic devices that were exactly the same, in appearance.

He finished drying and slid the device up next to the skin around the remains of his leg. He felt a slight phantom tingling and then the miracle, he could feel his toes wiggle at the end of the prosthetic. Every time he experienced this, . . . .

It was a miracle. One minute he was crippled and missing a leg, and the next minute he was complete.

Almost complete, he was drying the remains of his testicles, when he realized that his penis was missing from the counter.

Where the hell was his dick?

"Nicky", Colton growled.

He stepped easily out of the shower and walked into the next room.

Nicky, his hot little wife of about 5 feet and 7 inches, was lying on the bed, masturbating with his penis.

Colton was floored. She wasn't just pleasuring herself with his penis by using it like a dildo, she had it . . . She had the fucking thing attached to her belly and was giving herself a hand job, not like any of the crappy hand jobs he’d received from her. She was jerking off like she was a man!

Hell, it was worse than that, she was jerking off and fingering herself at the same time.

Colton thought he was going to be sick with the twisted feelings that flooded him as she reached climax with the same expression on her face that Colton normally adored himself, but watching her achieve that look while jerking off with his dick from across the room . . .

Next Chapter 005 – Rev3lation

003 – Ulmec Skull Suckers

Iterative update 1.4

"...Ulmec Skull Suckers. They sliced off the top of the skull, and then slurped the blood out of the brain vessels while the heart was still beating and a high priestess was going down on .. . Oh Shit, Good evening, Detective" said a police officer, just noting Brad's arrival.

The police officer’s partner stationed at the door didn't even flinch but Brad could see the woman stifling a smile in her eyes.

"Detective, the crime scene is ready for your inspection. Detectives Jambun and Scinlin are waiting for you just inside."

Brad recognized the names and frowned, "What's Intellectual Property Vice doing here? I'm H2.” H2 was an acronym for H squared or human homicide. Brad noted the first officers name tag, Stillson, as he approached.

"Detective, IP Vice was called initially when the crime scene was first identified. The victim was not initially found and this appeared to be an IP Vice crime. All the video equipment and the dismembered penises. . . ." Officer Stillson trailed off as he seemed to turn a little green while remembering the scene.

"Penes," Rubenz said, stating the plural of the word penis, correctly with the hard 'e' sound following the ‘n’ where the ‘I’ in penis normally was.

Brad had been ridiculed by a teacher in middle school for using the word penises to insult a group of 8th graders. The teacher hoping to set an example had schooled Brad on the correct plural pronunciation of penis, ergo penes for 30 minutes and it was one of those nasty childhood memories that he couldn't quite shake even in middle age when it made him half-chuckle to recall it.

"Say what?" said Officer Stillson.

"The plural of penis is penes, spelled p-e-n-e-s" said Rubenz, "But never mind you were saying?"

"I made the initial call Detective." stated Officer Hernandez, the female officer whose eyes still had that look of an inner joke. "This looked like another illegal Whack Off Video Production. Then we found the victim."

The door opened, and Detective Jambun, an unnaturally bald man in his mid thirties, who for some reason had not undergone gene therapy yet to fix the condition, looked out at Brad, and said, "Fuck! What took you so fucking long. We've got work to do and didn't need to waste our fucking time mopping up your shit. Come on Scinlin. Let's get the fuck out of here."

"Just a minute Detective, tell me what you have found here. I'm not accepting this crime scene until you get me up to speed and debrief." Brad said.

"Our report is filed. You should have viewed it already. We filed it 10 minutes ago. You being lazy again Rubenz?" Detective Scinlin leered at Brad.

Scinlin was a hard ass twenty-nine year old female detective. She had made detective faster than any other officer on the force. She had briefly worked in homicide in Brad's department. They got along together like phosphorous and water.

"I just received the call 4 minutes ago, and only the cursory first response report was included in my file." Brad said.

"Not our problem, take it up with the Captain." Jambun said as he tried to walk past Brad.

Brad didn't let him through. "Well this crime scene is still yours until I either get your report verbally or digitally. Check your phone yourself. Who is still responsible for this scene?"

Jambun looked down at his phone and said, "Shit."

Even Brad could see that the screen was still green in tint indicating crime scene responsibility had not yet passed.

"OK, asshole let’s get this over with. We have us a murder victim. One Terrence McBoyd, aka Terry. It would appear that he died due to excessive blood loss when his peter was cut off," Jambun stated using that odd and very old fashioned slang term for penis.

"What about the other eighty-six victims?" Brad recalled the preliminary report indicated as many as eighty-seven other victims.

"It was a fuck off. Terry boy was apparently the King of the Whack Jobs, literally. All those other penises lying around in that bloody mess weren't his." Hernandez said.

“Penes,” stated Rubenz.

“What?” said Hernandez.

“The plural for penis is penes, p-e-n-e-s,” said Rubenz wishing he hadn’t said a word, but it just slipped out.

"Who gives a fuck. Technically the penises probably were the victims." Scinlin snickered.

"What the hell are you two talking about? Are you saying eighty-six men were mutilated, not killed and Mr. McBoyd was the only person harmed fatally?" Brad asked.

"Brad, you are getting too old for this job. You're behind the fucking times. Didn't you hear me? Terry boy was a 'WHACK JOB'. He got his ROCKS off literally by getting his rocks cut C-U-T off.” Scinlin said with ridicule spitting out of his mouth. “Where have you been, living in a fucking hole in the ground?"

Brad was definitely a little confused but didn't want to give Hernandez the satisfaction. "I don't work IP Vice. Just what new sick and twisted shit has your department cooked up and shared with the masses lately. Trying to justify your budget again?" IP Vice had a massive corporate sponsored budget that was the envy of all other police departments short of Internal Terrorism which was funded directly by Homeland Security.

Always looking for an opportunity to show how smart he was, Jambun spoke up, "Mr. McBoyd was a sexual deviant. He engaged in a new sexual fetish called Whacking Off. Detective Hernandez referred to him in the vernacular as a Whack Job, a person that receives the cut from a Whacker, the person that does the cutting. The Whacker cuts off the P3nis of the Whack Job. That's P3nis with a three not an 'e'. A P3nis is a prosthetic device originally developed during the sixth Deck to replace damaged, mutilated, destroyed penises of veterans."

"You mean 'Penes'" Brad interjected.

"Do you want this debrief or not?” Jambun interjected. “The P3nis was developed to not only look and feel like the real thing, but to respond as well. Through a combination of biochemistry and nanotechnology it automatically electrically connects itself to the nervous system when it comes in contact with human skin. It has the ability to give the host the feeling of a fully operational penis." Jambun finished.

"He sold Plug n Play dicks, made to be Whacked Off." Hernandez spouted.

Jambun continued, "Some sick fucking house wife figured out that if you cut off a P3nis, it triggers a sensation in the brain that replicates the best fucking orgasm a person could ever hope to have. Our victim Mr. McBoyd was the King of the Whack Jobs, literally. His company mass produced and distributes P3nises around the world. He also has his own video production facility where viewers who don't want to actually experience getting their rocks cut off, can instead, get their rocks off by watching others get their rocks Whacked Off. McBoyd's moniker in this production is King of the Whack Jobs. He's had his P3nis cut off over a million times in video although most people did not know his real name."

Brad just looked at the two detectives. His phone chirped, he looked down, it was green. He had the file. This whacko fucking case was his.

Hernandez snorted, and the two IP Vice detectives walked past him to the emergency response terminal that was still open. They closed the panel and zipped away in the blink of an eye.

"Jesus stole my Skate Board" started playing on his phone again.

"Fuck," he swiped the screen, "Detective Rubenz here."

"Oh My god, Brad, Is it true? Is Terry dead?"

Brad's world just turned inside out. Jenny was talking to him, she had just called and Jenny knew about his murder victim.

Continue to Next Chapter 004 – Discovery

002 – Piece Meal

iterative update 1.3

Brad was en route to the Mega Warehouse complex. His phone indicated that he should arrive in about three minutes. It was an unusually long commute, especially in an era where live crime scene investigations were almost unheard of.

He was traveling at an ever increasing speed in an emergency response terminal that itself moved within a hyper train.

Hyper trains moved at speeds approaching three hundred fifty miles per hour. The trains however were extraordinarily long. Any given train could easily carry up to ten million passengers. The trip might not take long, but getting through the line of people or from the rear or middle of the train to the front of the train or exits, well that's where the trip could be grueling.

Brad was riding within an emergency response terminal. It was essentially a mobile pod within the train, it actually traveled on an upper level of the train, moving from the rear of the train to the front of the train. All passengers traveled in pods, that would be released as a traveler approached their destination point or exit ramps to smaller trains that would get them closer and closer. Some public terminals or pods even required the passenger to disembark and switch to a different pod on a different system.

Wealthy people had access to pods that also moved on the upper section of the train, but emergency personnel terminals were always given precedence and their own restricted area within any major hyper train and most minor trains as well.

Brad checked his phone again. Two minutes until arrival. He could be anywhere in the area of primary jurisdiction within 4 minutes, but typically dispatching optimization routines kept travel time down to a minute or less. It was atypical for Brad to be sent to a crime scene so far away regardless, he’d have to consider that later.

His phone buzzed quickly and he noticed that he was finally receiving an initial crime scene folder. This was late also and that was not normal. He'd been on this case less than 5 minutes and things were already FUBARed.

He twitched his nose and his eye lens implants activated a filter that would ensure the contents of the folder would only be viewable by his eyes only. The lenses contained an encryption key of ridiculous strength that filter out the signal images from his phone, translating them in real time so that he could view the information.

No one sitting close or using some type of surveillance device would be able to view this file in real time, although a good cracker could parse the governmental encryption key in about an hour. Few hackers had that kind of time these days. As always, Brad's head start on this case working with the incoming information would be one of his few advantages especially if the media leaped on at some point.

The file opened up on what could only initially be described as a bloody, fleshy mess.

Brad was viewing a video pan of the crime scene, with scrolling information running on the right side. He made slight rotations and twists with his hands holding his motion sensitive phone and the video angle panned and zoomed at his direction.

At first glance, he seemed to be looking at the remnants of body parts strewn across a warehouse floor between two massive aisles of pallets of goods stacked ten stories high. The shrink wrapped pallets were covered in blood that was still dripping down the sides to puddles on the floor.

Brad had seen a crime scene once where a body had been run through a commercial shredder to destroy the evidence of a white collar crime. This seemed very similar sans the shredder. Plus, the body parts were a little too large to have been sliced up by a shredder.

He zoomed in a bit and looked at a pile of flesh. He touched a sensor pad on his phone to increase the illumination on the image.

"What the fuck!" Brad cringed and almost lost his dinner at the same time.

He quickly glanced at the scrolling data.

... Initial body count estimates 87 victims & increasing.

One mostly complete body,

Male, approx. age: 42

Name: Terrence McBoyd (nickname Terry). CEO and President of ...

Possible Alias . . .

Brad's terminal came to a halt, and the exit door slid open. He walked outside the door to the crime scene entrance.

Continue to Next Chapter 003 – Ulmec Skull Suckers

001 – Uploading for Dollars

iterative update 1.6

Read this Chapter on a KindleBrad Rubenz clicked the upload button and watched as forty-three thousand five hundred eighty-two seconds of content were uploaded to his 43rd movie site. He speculated that he would earn at least thirty-three cents per second of movie on average for the life of the content. Each second was part of a movie generated in his MCMS, which stood for Movie Content Management System.
Read this Chapter on an iPad

So over the course of the next year . . .

Then he would earn . . .

He quickly pulled up a spreadsheet and ran the calculation again, entering forty-three thousand five hundred eighty-two in a cell, thirty-three cents in another and multiplying them together in the amount of time it takes most people to scratch their nose.

It would earn him fourteen thousand three hundred eighty-two dollars and six cents over the life of the movie, which he could cash in through a video copyright backed security at a return of about 74%, based on the performance of his past results. If this batch continued to improve in performance, next month his per second rate would increase to thirty-nine cents, which was a nice extra. However, he would finally boosted his video copyright security rating to CCC+ up from his current DD-. That would translate into a security payout in cash up front of 81%. On a $15k batch of video that extra 7% meant just over $1k more per month in income, which would finally give him enough to invest in retrofitting his past videos with real voice over artist performances.

Well at least his best videos, and then only in the highest paying languages of Cantonese, English with a Scottish accent and urban Pashto street Jive. Good voice over artists were expensive. The marginal increase in cash would not cover the full cost, but would finance the down payment to accelerate his profits and keep his leveraged operation growing.

Brad smiled with hope and thought, “Not too bad for a week’s worth of work. And that would sure as hell be better than the type of work he was doing lately. Even though the amount was only about half that of his normal monthly salary, but if he could produce enough of these movies…”

"Jesus Stole My Skate Board," started playing on his cell phone. The hyper rap death metal ring tone was a negative signal emphasizing his point. Brad used friendlier ring tones for friends and family, but he preferred really nasty shit to set him on edge and get him in the proper frame of mind for some of the more troublesome people he worked with.

Brad pulled his phone from his pocket seeing the incoming call from department dispatch. Yep, that was about as negative as it got.

"Shit," Brad muttered, before swiping up on his phone. He answered the call stating, "Detective Rubenz."

"Detective, please proceed to 104301 Warehouse Way. Just off Industrial Boulevard. This is a mega warehouse complex. Your destination address is the mixed space warehouse, office of . . . Let me spell this for you. Tree, X-ray Tango Roger Alpha Charlie Zero X-ray Four Uniform Incorporated." Said Wolverson, the overly gung-ho dispatcher, just out of the military.

As far as dispatchers were concerned, Brad liked Wolverson, but he could do without the gung-ho lingo. "Just tell me the name of the company Wolverson."

"Detective, its uh .. ."

"I don't have all night." Brad snarled.

Wovlerson mumbled something that sounded like "Its Extra Cocks for You, Detective."

"Wolverson, What the fuck are you talking about?"

"That's the name. That's the way it’s pronounced or listed anyway."

"Ok," pissed now, "Spell the damned thing again."

Hearing the embarrassment in his voice and maybe a little anger, Wolverson punched the words out in a rapid fire staccato stating, "Tree X-ray Tango Roger Alpha Charlie Zero X-ray Four Uniform Incorporated... Detective."

The military delivery gave Rubenz a vision of Wolverson calling in fire on his condo. The precise emphasis that Wolverson used on the word ‘Detective’ let Rubenz know that in Wolverson’s mind Brad was somewhere between a mine field and asshole territory.

Brad was writing the letters down on a pad of paper deciphering the lingo that appeared to be some type of hacker’s idea of a company name.

3xtra C0x 4 U, Inc.

"What's the situation Wolverson?" Brad asked.

"Probable multiple homicide, Detective. It’s not on the air waves yet, but I received a picture message from a buddy of mine, and I've never seen anything so sick, even when I was fighting in Afghanistan during the seventh Deck."

Brad knew that Wolverson had fought in Afghanistan. He had never heard that Wolverson had fought during the seventh 'Deck' or decade of that war that never ended.

The seventh Deck was a period of cleansing. There had been two previous periods of 'cleansing' where one side or the other decided that the only way to end the war would be to kill everyone possible on the other side and start fresh. Unfortunately, this also always led to a power void and after each period, new factions of warlords, gang leaders, recently retired colonels that would never see general, and religious zealots would migrate in with a new merry band of rebels armed to the teeth and pick up right where the last murderous group had left off.

The seventh Deck was worse. Both sides had initiated a cleansing period at the same time. Few people survived, let alone made it back to the continent to restart a normal life if they had been present to endure the seventh Deck.

Talking slower and with a new type of respect Brad started to say, "What do you mean by that . . ." He was cut off as another call came in. Caller ID let him know that it was Captain Bruhaus.

"Never mind. Call coming in. Out." Rubenz cleared one call and accepted the other simultaneously.

Rubenz figured Wolverson would like the 'Out' Sign off a bit anyway. If you gave a soldier a bit of shit, they could generally deal with it in short order as long as you didn’t dig your own grave with a lot of stroking and horse shit apologies.

He swiped his phone again, and said, "Detective Rubenz here Sir."

"Brad, I'm getting hit with a media shit storm. What are you seeing at the scene?"

"Sir, I'm at home."

"What the fuck are you doing at home Detective?"

There was that asshole intonation in the word 'Detective' again.

"Why aren't you at the scene of the murders?"

"Sir I just received the call from dispa..."

"God Damn it! Brad, Shit! I'm not yelling at you. Somebody has fucked this up good. Get your ass over to that scene yesterday and watch out, this one is nasty even by your standards." and he clicked off.

Brad let out a deep sigh, then said "Fuckin A" for good measure and stood up gazing longingly at his computer monitor, wishing he had uploaded those files last year and had a different life right about now or at least a different option on life.

Next Chapter 002 – Piece Meal