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.TICKING TOCK KONG	By : keithcompany Category: 1 through F > Fantasy Island Views: 1973 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Fantasy Island, King Kong Lives, Westworld, Futureworld, Once Upon A Girl, nor any of the characters from any of the movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-.TICKING TOCK KONG
- 1
More Disclaimer: This work is my own. Do not repost this story beyond the limits of the Fair Use standards of Copyright Law (quotes, examples, 'you gotta read this' excerpts, the usual).

I tend to work with size-themed fiction, which includes overwhelming control issues and outrageous differences in scale. Such disparate sizes between partners is not for everyone, so be warned.

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Amy sat by the window as the plane boarded and crossed her fingers. She hated a talkative seat mate on plane trips.

A middle aged man nodded to her and sat. He took out a fat paperback and made sure his MP3 player and headphones were handy before sliding his case under the seat in front of him.

Thanks, she offered the universe and started to relax.

But after the plane was airborne, one of the other passengers stood up. An older woman in aggressively tourist clothes - Hawaiian shirt and matching knee-length skirt - stood up from the front row and turned to face the small cabin.

"You know what would be FUN?" she asked/asserted. "Let's find out why everyone's going to Fantasy Island!"

She hounded the couple in front of Amy's seat. The doctor shrank back into her chair. She hated talking about herself. Her patients, yes, she could read papers to a packed auditorium. But if they asked why she became a veterinary surgeon or why she specialized in the apes, she froze.

She tried to think of a polite phrase for 'get the fuck away you harpy' but there was no time. The newlyweds stammered out something and she moved to their row.

Beady eyes speared her face. "And you, de-"

Dear or dearie, the word was hijacked by her seat mate. "I want to be a lamia!" he said loudly.

"A what, dearie?" the interviewer asked.

"It's like a snake centaur? Man down to the waist. Snake tail stretching back from there." He held up his headphones in a quick, stick-figure representation. A loop for a head, earplugs as hands, and a sinuous tail snaking between his fingers. "They tell me the costume's about 30 feet long."

"Ah. Well. Doesn't that sound fun?" she said. She turned to Amy again.

Despite herself, Amy had to ask a question. "Aren't Lamia always female?"

"Yeah, traditionally," he said with a nod. "I want to be the king of the lamia." He twisted the plug in the air. "That'll give me about a five-foot-long cock at the end." He turned to the woman in the aisle and asked what she was doing Thursday.

She sputtered and retreated to her seat. Amy dipped her head as the cabin filled with laughter.

"Thanks," she said softly.

"You're welcome," he said just as quietly.

"Do they really offer that...fantasy?" she asked.

"Beats me," he shrugged. "I'm driving the minisub on the search for Atlantis."

She smiled and pat him on the shoulder. "Thanks, again."

"Not a problem, Doctor Franklin." He lifted his paperback as she froze.

"How do you know who I am?" she asked.

He put his book down, finger marking the place. "Uh...you're not going to believe I saw your ticket as we boarded?"

"Doesn't say 'doctor' on it."

"Ah. Well, I used to date a woman that wanted to be you. She had your picture, from the opening of Queen Kong's preserve, up on her wall. Touched it every day."

"Oh! A veterinary student?"

"A furry," he said, not looking at her. "She really wanted to have crawled around on Kong's chest." He opened his book again. She left him alone until they reached the island.

Doctor Amy Franklin remembered why she hated talking to seat mates.

------------

She sat quietly as the other passengers filed off the sea plane. She was there for consulting work. She'd hate it if someone was denied a lei because she'd gotten it.

After the last guest walked off to be greeted by the wahines, she shouldered her pack and stood.

The staff tried to greet her as warmly as the guests. She waved them off. They still smiled graciously and helped her climb to the dock.

Mr. Roarke welcomed everyone at the shore while more staff stowed the luggage in pink jeeps.

He promised them a quick start to the fantasies they'd come for, suggesting they take a few minutes to find their rooms and refresh after their journeys.

He turned to Amy as the pink fleet ran off down the picturesque road.

"Doctor Franklin! Welcome, welcome. Can I get you anything? Do you need to rest?"

She took his gracefully offered hand for a shake. He dipped his head to graciously kiss hers. She was prepared to see polished fake mannerisms, but as near as she could tell, this was just how Mr. Roarke was.

Charmed in spite of herself, she smiled at him, then shook her head. "No, Mr. Roarke. Frankly, I'd just like to know why I'm here?"

"Ah. All will be revealed, Doctor Franklin." He gestured towards the lone remaining jeep. "If you would accompany me?"

"Sure. And call me Amy, Mr. Roarke."

"I shall, Amy. If you will call me Roarke." She raised and eyebrow. He shrugged. "The entire story of my full name is long and involved, Amy. And not very entertaining. Shall we?"

Just as they left the greeting site, a bus drove in. One of the passenger's head whipped around as the jeep went by. He stood and crowded his way past the other technicians. They shouldered their packs and bags and walked towards the plane.

He looked around and grabbed a greeter's elbow. "Miss! That woman that drove off with Mr. Roarke? Who was she?"

The young woman shrugged and yanked her arm free.

"Joseph?" Another technical worker took the first man by the shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Did you see the jeep, Dan?" Joseph replied. "Did you see who was on it?"

"No, why? Who did you think it was?"

"Amy Franklin," Joseph said softly.

"Your old girlfriend?" Dan asked. "Huh. Did you know she was coming?"

"To the grand opening, yeah. She wasn't supposed to be here for six months, though." He shook his head and turned towards the bus. "I gotta go back to Control," he told his friend. "Cover for-"

"Mister Cavenaugh," Roarke said, stepping out from behind the bus. Joseph's head snapped around towards where the jeep had disappeared. Giant fronds of plants waved gently back from beside the empty stretch of road. He looked back at the man approaching him.

"Mister Cavenaugh, is there a problem?"

"No, Mister Roarke, no," he said.

"You have finished your work? Received your pay?" He tapped the bus door. It closed and the vehicle drove off.

"Yes, sir, everything's fine." Joseph's eyes tracked the back of the bus until it was out of sight as well.

"And you have a plane ticket to Tahiti? And one for the connecting flight to the United States?" Roarke went on.

"Yes, sir."

"Then you'd better get aboard, hadn't you?"

Dan slapped his buddy on the shoulder and the two men walked towards the waiting sea plane. Joseph looked back once. Mr. Roarke waved goodbye with a wide smile.

------------

Roarke spoke as he drove. "Had you ever been to Delos Amusement Park, Amy?"

He slowed the vehicle. She didn't see a reason. He raised his finger to his lips for silence. They waited. After a few seconds, a very small deer stepped out from the dense undergrowth. It saw them and bounded across the road to disappear in the brush there.

He started the car again. She had no idea how he'd known it was going to jump in front of them.

She watched the jungle as he drove. Deep greens were interrupted by explosive flashes of color. But they were gone before she could even tell if it was flower, bird or a monkey holding a stolen tourist hat.

He made a questioning noise. Oh.

"No. It opened while I was starting my residency. No time, no time at all."

"And they closed soon after," he added. "Due to the unpleasantness."

"Roarke," she said with surprise, "there were more than three hundred people killed in WesternWorld and the other two venues. I don't think 'unpleasantness' quite covers it."

He shrugged and turned off the main road to a dirt one. "The great unpleasantness?" She shook her head.

"Anyway, after Delos went bankrupt, I acquired a few of their properties."

"I read about that," she said. "If I recall, the financial columnists used phrases like 'strip-mining' and 'scorched Earth policy' to refer to the transaction."

"It was very much a buyer's market," he admitted. He flashed her that charming smile and she found herself returning it.

"So, Mr.... So, Roarke, you started using robots in Fantasy Island?"

"Only very slightly," he said. "I much prefer the interaction of people to create the fantasies I provide to the guests. It was Delos' mistake."

"What's that?"

"They told the customers what they wanted, and provided it. I let them tell me what they want. And give them what they need." There was something about that mission statement that bothered Amy, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"The first robot we had," he said, "was the giant in the Beanstalk Fantasy. We made him very ugly. The whole point of the story is to steal from him and kill him. We didn't want a sympathetic character."

"That worked well," she said.

"Yes, they weren't quite swarming the island to go play in the castle," he said. "In fact..." He pulled over and waved. Beyond the edge of the road was a large valley.

Centered in the depression like a jewel in the perfect setting, a gigantic castle loomed over the tiny plants at its base. "The Castle at the Top of the Beanstalk," he said.

"Didn't you overhaul that...fantasy?" she asked. "I read..."

"Yes. We replaced the ugly male giant with his beautiful giant wife. Instead of killing him, you must seduce or otherwise entice her to assist you."

"Seduce?" she asked.

"The...adult version of the fantasy has become quite popular with certain...focus groups."

"Pervs?" she asked.

"We do not use that word on Fantasy Island," he said sternly. "People cannot help what they find attractive. Only what they choose to do about it."

"Sorry," she said. She remembered the man on the plane and his fur-fond girlfriend.

He cleared his throat, looking away from her. "Macrophiles," he said. "That's what we call the giantess fans." Then he started the jeep and drove on.

"Wait, wouldn't that word describe people who wanted to BE giants? And those that want to be...um, with giants, they'd be microphiles?"

"There is some dispute as to the best labels," he admitted.

------------

The next time he pulled over, the jungle parted and there was a small volcano waiting for them. A distinctive volcano.

"Skull Mountain," she said.

"From the Island of Skull Mountain," he said. "Have you been there?" She shook her head. He turned off the dirt road, driving carefully over the lava flows towards a cave in the slope.

"When we started offering adult attractions with the giant's wife, we discovered another market. A number of women expressed an interest in a 'captive of the giant' fantasy of their own. And that was about the time Queen Kong gave birth..."

"And the media was full of giant apes," she said softly. "You've got to be kidding me..."

There was a giant metallic head in the opening. A robotic version of a gorilla's skeleton lay inside the cave.

Roarke led her along the side of the recumbent figure as he talked.

"The mechanical aspects were worked out two years ago. The software technicians finished their final testing last night.

"The skin and fur should be installed over the next couple of months. Then a dress rehearsal or two. Then the big unveiling of the King Kong Fantasy."

"What do you want from me?" she asked as they passed the upper arms. The ribs curved away from them. She had flashbacks to opening something like those to install an artificial heart.

"Well," Roarke said, "I have hired a number of experts to make this ape realistic. And safe. And independent. I wish it to behave as a real being, not a puppet.

"I would like you to evaluate it for realism. Give me your honest evaluation as the most accomplished expert in giant primates on the planet."

She nodded, then burst out laughing. "Okay, well, THAT is not realistic!" He followed her finger. They gazed upon the robotic frame for the ape's penis.

"That's the size of a Trident missile!" she said with scorn.

"Oh, hardly, Dr. Franklin," he replied. "A Trident missile would be about 90% as tall as King Kong. This is five feet long, about a tenth as big as such a missile."

"Well, even that's way off," she said. "Kong's penis was about ten inches long."

"Yes, I read your autopsy," he said. She spun around to stare at him. "But the customers have certain expectations. They aren't all aware that gorilla's endowments are typically less than an inch long.

"I expect it will be easier to have a five foot long...primate-hood, than to convince them it should be much smaller.

"In fact," he said, pushing a set of mobile stairs to the side of the robot's pelvis and climbing. "We will have three options in that respect. Doctor?"

Amy shook her and followed him up. He indicated the housing that the tremendous penis could retract into.

"If they wish a neuter ape to play with them, they will see no penis. If they want a monster, they will have a monster." He tapped the side of the penis below the helmet. "And, coincidentally similar to the Trident missile, which has an aerospike in the nosecap...."

A small piece of rubber extruded from the top of the cylinder. It was a replica of Kong's own penis. Only in comparison to the rest of the construction did that 10-inch dildo look small.

"Voila," he said. Every desire can be accommodated, one way or another."

"What won't they think of next," she murmured.

------------

Two days later Dr. Franklin was tired of the simulator. She had been interacting with the robot's software package in a virtual environment.

It appeared to be authentic enough. It moved correctly, it stood correctly, it brought things to its lips for investigation. Even small squeaky things that screamed pitiably as it did so.

She tried to push the captive to extremes of behavior to see how the fake beast reacted. So far, she'd seen no problems, nothing that threatened guest safety or ape verisimilitude.

She pushed her chair away from the console and spun it around. The skeleton lay back on the floor, charging cables strewn around it.

No one was in the volcano. For this week, she was alone except for the jeep drivers that brought her, took her to lunch and took her home again in the evening.

She walked over and around the figure, picking up the remote as she did. She told herself it was an overall inspection, just getting a 'feel' for the size of the thing.

It took her back. For ten years, Kong had been her coma patient. His up-and-moving days were mostly outside of her supervision. His rampages were almost completely away from her.

So she was actually comparing the sleeping form to patient she remembered. The hands were wrong.

There was enough power to move up to four joints at once, they told her. She amped up the forearms and rearranged the hands. NOW he looked like he had in Atlanta.

Well, except for not having flesh or fur, of course.

Amy slowly climbed the stairs. She rerouted power to the pelvis. And she retracted the giant cock. The end cock. Then popped them in and out in different combinations.

"Good boy," she murmured and hit a switch. "And bad boy." Then fully extended on fully extended. "And ride 'em, cowgirl!"

She laughed, hearing it echo in the maintenance bay. "Great, I'm talking to myself," she said.

"No, you're not," she replied.

"FAUGH! We need someone to join in!" She switched power to Kong's head. "Laugh," she said into the microphone. The great jaws spread.

"Ah ha," it said. "Ah ha."

"Laugh like you mean it," she said. She twisted a dial, raising the power level in the brain.

Behind her, a power control panel came to life. Three huge switches rolled slowly over, providing full power to the robot.

The head lifted slowly. "Fee, Fie, Foe, Fussy," it intoned.

"What?" she asked. She stared, stunned, as the plates on the gorilla face shifted. Features seemed to slide back and forth, until it was something she almost recognized.

"I smell the smell of some doctor's pussy!" the robot said.

"Joseph?" she called. "Is that you?"

Metal paws reached for her as the construction sat up.

"C'mere, you," it said. She screamed and turned to run.

The robot's hand brushed the rolling stairs as she hit the last step. It twisted under her, almost spilling her onto the concrete.

Amy staggered to the side, arms windmilling. She ran towards the computer console and the emergency shut down switch.

"Not gonna help you," Joseph's voice sounded from behind her. He leaned over, reaching for her from behind. The program was inexperienced with the gorilla form, though, and overbalanced.

The hand swept over her head, jamming into the door to the Control room up to the elbow.

Something inside burst in a shower of sparks as she braked to a stop. His other arm was coming overhead. She screamed and ran to the back wall.

He reached for the rock face over the control room, planning to push against it and pull his other arm free.

The rock-painted foam collapsed under the pressure of his push, twisting him more to the side.

Amy rounded his feet and shot towards the power panels. She didn't know much about the power distribution. She just planned to throw everything she could find to OFF, starting with the biggest.

Plaster and foam rained down around her as she grabbed the main switch and pulled.

It moved halfway down, then jerked her off her feet returning to its rest position. She banged her elbow against the tiny AUTO/MANUAL toggle switch in the corner of the panel but didn't pause to read it. She tried to pull once more, thinking she was fighting a spring of some sort.

Josephbot finally freed himself and sat up. Big black eyes scanned the cave until they found her.

"Gotcha," he said. He flexed his fingers as they approached. She abandoned the switch she had to try another. It turned and stayed turned. She felt a rush of satisfaction and glanced to see the effect it had.

He still reached towards her, but the sparks in the Control room died down.

"Fuuuuuuuuuck," she moaned.

"Okay," the giant said, a wide smile spreading across great, big, shiny fangs. Somehow, she thought that was more of a match for Joseph's face than his real one.

She turned to scamper down the back wall, but his hand smashed down in front of her.

It dragged slowly towards her, screeching as it scraped along the floor.

"I always knew they'd have you here for the grand opening, Amy," he said. "So I wrote this program to...take care of you."

"It's not the grand opening!" she cried. He paused. He looked at his free hand and noticed the lack of costume. He glanced around. No cameras, no visitors, no Roarke.

"Huh. You came early." He looked down to sneer, "Doesn't matter, just means we wont be inter- Where the hell did you go?"

The Joseph robot stood and flexed his arms. The balance was a bit off, the body wasn't the shape he was used to. But if he didn't concentrate, if he let the operating system interpret his commands, it adjusted automatically.

He looked around the room, trying to see where Amy had gone.

"And once again," he shouted. "There's me, chasing after you. But at least you're not ignoring me this time."

His head wouldn't fit in the space above the power distribution panels so he just reached over and swept the space with his fingers.

No one screamed or rolled out into view. He moved on to the tool lockers.

"You were always too busy for me, Amy. I got hired by MedievalWorld, you were too busy. I got fired by MedievalWorld, you were too busy. Well, you did ask what the Middle Ages were in the Middle of. I tried to look it up, but you were too busy."

He idly shook the gantry and the crane. Then kicked the cherry picker. No one fell out of the bucket so he moved on.

"I got hired by FutureWorld, you were too busy. I got selected for the special program to reproduce human personalities in robots."

He banged fists off his chest. "Oy-ee-oy!" Then he snarled. "I couldn't even get you interested in the prosecution afterwards. I did six months in jail while they decided who to hold responsible."

There were ventilation ducts running from what used to be the computer room to the fan room on top of the volcano.

"When I got released, for time served and naming every name I knew, I came home. You walked in, gave me a kiss, and apologized for not spending time with me." He grabbed a length of duct and ripped it off the wall.

There was a small yelp. He shook the duct. Amy slid out and dropped onto his hand. She looked up from his palm.

"That's why you went schitzo that night?" she asked. "That explains a lot."

"BITCH!" he shouted, throwing the duct away. She flinched from his expression.

Steel fingers wrapped around her body and held her up to his face. She stared at the glowing red eyes.

"So, Amy. Are you busy?" She shook her head. "Then let's spend some time together."

Steely fingers approached her slowly. She tried to back up in his grip. The blunt thumb kept her pinned to his palm.

He pinched her blouse and pulled. Rather than slipping it over her head, he just pulled straight out. Buttons popped, bouncing off his metal frame with ominous tings.

Her sleeves dug into her armpits as the seams popped. He moved his thumb up from her waist to her chest, keeping her from bending over as he tugged.

Amy gasped, trying to breathe. The blouse parted, scraping around her back, ripping free of the sleeves.

He smiled, ripped it with a fang and spat it on the floor. Then he pinched her sleeves, dropping them to the floor one at a time.

A shovel-like nail on his finger slid down her ribs, her hip, and under her pants. The belt tugged briefly, then the buckle popped, spinning across the space to ricochet off his nose.

He pulled her pants down to her thighs, then yanked. She gasped as her knee was wrenched, bouncing off the thumb between her legs.

The light tropical material finally parted. She reached down to rub her joint, glad she hadn't packed her jeans.

Then tugged her panties. He giggled and rolled her over in his hand. As he slowly rolled them down over her ass, he held her close to his face.

She twisted and squirmed, sure that she could feel some sort of radiation coming off his eyes.

One Kong-sized nail scraped both her inner thighs at the same time. She spread her legs but was limited by the underwear. The nail scraped and scratched.

"So, anyway," he said in a conversational tone as he molested her, "I was hired by Roarke to help put the FutureWorld personality software to work on the giant robot, here."

He rapped a thumb against his ribs, ringing his way down along his sternum. They were too thick for much of a xylophone sound, and too widely spaced. All she knew was that he'd let go of her legs.

Any writhed, trying to work her panties down and off.

"And when I saw they wanted a giant ape, I knew, KNEW that you'd be here. Probably for the grand opening. Roarke likes to accessorize his media releases."

Two fingers between her knees pushed outwards. The panties popped before her joint did, but it was a close thing.

He grabbed an ankle and dangled her before his face again. "Delos had given them all sorts of data they didn't know how to use. They even had the prototype personality we'd used on the first robot. Me! Can you imagine?"

She stared silently at the replica Joseph as he poked at her hanging body. There was never a benefit to interrupting Joseph, she knew that. She just bore through it until he got to the point.

"So, I updated that file, named it 'Celebrity Recognition'... And here we are!" He scratched his chin and lowered her to his waist. "But what to do, what to do, what to do?"

Before her, the serial dicks were moving in an out of their respective housings. The robot pinched a wrist painfully and turned her over.

When the gigantic and merely huge cocks were both extended, the tip lightly brushed her pubic hairs. Then one or both would retract and surge and flip through the combinations until it poked her again.

"So, Amy, what'll it be? Sex?" He grabbed his cock and brushed her belly with the dildo in tight circles. "Or Megasex?" Fingers cupped her legs from behind and spread them around the giant helmet. "I could just push into you until the popping sounds stop....or.... What would that be like?"

"Murder," she said.

"Yeah, yeah. What'll they do? Turn me off?"

"They'll lock you up!" she shouted. She tried to twist away from the helmet, or at least move her vagina away from the recessed dildo. It'd be like him to stab out with that thing. "The real you!"

"The real me's miles and miles away by now, Amy. A perfect alibi." The fingers cupping her body pushed her firmly against his cock.

She was pretty sure Joseph was too wimpy to actually murder her, no matter the system his personality was hosted on. She also knew not to say it outloud, challenging him and putting him into a corner. So she bit her cheek and twisted.

"Still, once I've done that, you won't be any fun any more." He sat down and wrapped his fingers around her. Her arms were pinned to her side and her face was next to the dildo.

He extended it about six inches. "Lick it," he ordered. She bent her head to obey. She knew he couldn't feel any sensations from this, so she had to work harder to 'sell' the blowjob.

Amy slurped noisily and embellished the work of tongue and lips. If those eyes could focus this tight, he'd really think he was getting serviced.

And with a little bit of plaster dust, a light coating of machine oil, it still tasted better than he usually had.

"That's it, bitch," he muttered. "Chow down..."

She was careful to pay attention to the dildo. It'd be very much in character for him to forcibly deep throat her by extending the damned thing.

But for once he played nice. He even relaxed his grip a bit. She wormed a hand free to brace against the housing. That let her bob her head more theatrically.

"Oh, yeah," he whispered. She wondered if he was drooling and if that would ground him.

Then he lifted her up and away. A finger moved, uncovering her boobs. He pinched them, smiling as he did.

"So," he asked, "are you ready?" He didn't breathe, she knew. It must be some memory function that made his voice raspy.

"No," she said. He laughed, then bent her legs up and held them. She couldn't move as he lowered her pussy-first to his cocks.

Between her spit and the oil, it was better lubricated than Amy was. And his angel was off. She moaned, then squealed in pain. He paused. When he moved her again, she screamed.

"Oh, god!" he said, reflexively lifting her and letting go.

She swung her legs down and pushed off with her thighs. The cock went by like a rising missile. She landed on the ground, flexing her legs and taking some of the impact with her arms.

The knee cried out in pain, but her pussy outvoted it. She took off running. Or limping madly.

"HEY!" he shouted. Once again, he concentrated too hard on trying to grab her and ended up fighting the operating system. She ducked under the hand and ran out the front of the cave.

He eventually figured out how to stand and charged after her.

A power cable parted with a shower of sparks. He lost the use of one arm and a leg, stopping him before he could lunge away from all the cables.

"What the...? We were supposed to be on internal batteries!" he grumped. A hand reached under his ribs and poked around. He activated his on-board power unit, snapped the cables free and charged after his prey.

Amy knew that Kong had never cornered well on two feet, and she hoped Joseph's software wouldn't be adept at knuckling along. She turned immediately at the cave door and ran along the edge of the volcano.

Behind her she heard trees crashing as he blundered straight out of the door and into the jungle.

Her bare feet complained about the rough rocky ground but it was less than her knee. She kept limping along as fast as she could go.

There was a roar of profanity and vulgarity behind her as she rounded a ridge on the mountain's side. A small paved path led through the trees. She charged towards it.

It was a little obvious, but he probably had infra-red vision. Hiding was out, she needed to cover some distance and the path would help her do that.

She whimpered a bit but kept on going.

The path was just wide enough for a jeep to travel, going in a straight line through the trees.

Amy suspected it was a maintenance access of some sort. There was nothing to see except trees and more trees. Even looking up was just green tinted with sunlight.

Which meant that anyone looking down would also see trees. She hoped the sun-warmed leaves helped hide her infra red signature, but she doubted it.

Should have paid more attention on those trips to the Congo, she thought.

The longer she went without hearing the robot's footsteps, the better she felt. But she also went slower as her knee felt worse.

There was a small stream that crossed under the path. The straight-forward, flat bridge seemed to confirm her guess that this was for staff, not guests. A guest bridge would be picturesque.

She eased herself down by the water and took a few sips, running handfuls of water over her hair to cool off.

Sweat and cool water ran down her naked back and shoulders. She shook it off and stared at the water.

The bottom started to look blurry. She wondered if she was going to pass out from exertion...but she felt fine.

The stream looked worse and worse. She glanced around. The trees were in focus, she could count the leaves. Amy looked back down at the water.

It was mud. Something upstream was stirring... Crap. She looked up. Metal glinted from between the trees upstream. Joseph's face leered at her, giving her a small wave.

She climbed to the road but he was on her in a second, storming through the trees that were nearly as tall as his form.

"Gotcha!" he cackled as she was swept up once more. She lay across his palm, his thumb and forefinger pinning her shoulders.

He lowered her to the end of his dick. "Time's a wasting, bitch," he shouted. He placed the end of the dildo against her pussy and started to push her down on it.

This time, by luck or design, the angle was better. It still wasn't fun, but at least he wasn't trying to poke through bone.

And the way he held her gave her some latitude. She wriggled and pushed herself up, adjusting herself to his size and angle.

He misread her actions. "So you like it? You do like it. Okay." He started pumping her up and down his shaft. An inch at a time at first, then more energetically.

She moaned, and not happily. Straining against his grip, she tried to wriggle free. But his power was unstoppable, inescapable. The metal pads of his palm slowly warmed from her body heat, slicking from her sweat.

He smiled, an ugly look on him, looking down at her as she writhed and twisted. He paused, thinking to taunt her by withholding that violating toy.

She was about to shout for him to finish it...then she realized he couldn't. There was no sensation here, not for him. The robot was only going through the motions... Like our relationship, she almost said out loud.

But what could stop him if he'd never achieve an orgasm? She'd have to fake one.

"Oh, oh, JOSEPH," she moaned. "Don't stop! Please."

"Damn right," he said. He started to pump her some more. The dildo was dripping machine oil, smearing it on her and in her.

She twisted around on the tip, ass bouncing off the helmet assembly of the giant dick with each cycle.

She got a finger to her mouth and started to suck on it, lavishing it with lips and tongue. "Oh, oh, such man-meat, Joseph," she moaned. It was embarrassing, she thought. She couldn't think of anything better than the dialogue from a stolen porn video she'd watched at a slumber party.

What was worse, though, was that Joe's personality was accepting it.

Schmuck.

"Joseph, you sex samurai..." Amy continued channeling Hot Vixens on Tokyo Layover Part Three. "Stab me with your love katana!" She grabbed her lower thighs and spread her legs wide. Her feet waved in the air as he pumped her whole body back and forth.

"Whoa, Amy!" he laughed. "You're getting HOT! I always suspected you wanted to hump that big ape. Walking around on his chest, down by his cock, huh? Huh?"

"Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh," she groaned, timed to his movements. "I just... I just..." What had that slut kept shouting in the elevator scene? "To the hilt, Fuckme-San! To the HILT!"

"YEAH!" he shouted. He pushed her as tightly against his warhead as she'd go. It wasn't the pleasant feeling of fullness she remembered. It was a stabbing invasion. She thought he might be pushing her heart up into her throat.

Fingertips pushed her shoulders down, arching her against the tip of his cock.

She could barely touch her breasts, pushing at her nipples with her fingernails. She screamed, twisting her head back and forth to make her hair fly.

"Oh, wow," he said. The pumping slowed, then stopped. He pulled her free suddenly with a sodden pop. "Well, if you're going to die, at least you die satisfied."

"Die?" she asked. In her head, that part of her that never missed Joseph laughed at 'satisfied?'

"Yeah. You gotta go, babe." He blew her a kiss and lowered her to the ground. He rolled his hand and she dropped the last few feet, landing in a green mush of stomped vegetation. He lifted one foot as she tried to slither to solid ground. "Any last words?"

"How about floccinaucinihilipilification?" a new voice asked. Joseph turned, lowering his foot to the ground. Amy knew she should be scrambling, but she turned to follow the voice.

A woman stepped into view on the path Amy had been following. she was wearing a long pink dress cut to a Hollywood standard for fantasy movies that had ladies in castles.

She had a pleasant smile and her eyes were looking down at Joseph. She stood about ten feet taller than the Kong bot.

"Flocka-nowsuh...what?" Joseph asked.

"It means to estimate that something is without worth," she said, still smiling.

"Okay," he said slowly. "Like-" He started to point down to Amy's naked, bleeding form.

The giantess pulled her hand out from behind her. She swung a frying pan the size of a basketball court at Joseph's head. It spun around freely once, twice, three times.

The giantess moved one foot forward to rest by Amy. The little woman grabbed at the straps of the toeless slipper and pulled herself under the arch.

Joseph swung his great arms up, hands crashing against the head to stop the spin. He halted the skull, but it was fully reversed. He looked out in the direction of his own spine and tried to figure where the giantess had gone.

His control signals sent to the body were reversed, diametrically opposed to what the operating system thought he wanted.

He began to waver and his attempts to correct just made it worse. His arms started to windmill when the frying pan pushed his head down into the rib cage.

Parts fell to ground all around Amy's size six thousand, septuple wide refuge.

"Cost, sure," the giantess said as the body crashed to the ground. "But no value."

------------

Esmeralda kept up a running conversation as she entered the castle. It was just a little one-sided. "This is the living room, or as the scripts say, Entry point. Over there is the treasury, where the goose is. Down that hall is the bedroom. Where I get goosed!" she giggled.

"Through here," she stepped. "Is the kitchen. It's more of a sanctuary than my bedroom. No one ever wants to see the giant's wife's kitchen."

She bustled about the room for a moment, collecting picturesque boxes from the shelves, a kettle from the fireplace and assorted china. She piled these on the table and sat down.

When everything was arranged as she deemed fit she unbuttoned her blouse and looked down at her cleavage. "Are you okay, Dr. Franklin?"

"I'm fine, Esmeralda," Amy smiled up from between the giant breasts. "I've never been anyplace so cozy in my life."

"Sorry about that," the robotic woman said, gently parting her endowments to scoop up her guest. "I keep asking for pockets, but they say the customers want to be carried like that." She put Amy down on a folded dishcloth. "Now, Dr. Franklin-"

"Oh, please, call me Amy."

Esmeralda paused. "I don't think so, Dr. Franklin. Maybe later, if we become friends. Right now, I think it's important that you are reminded that you are a woman of worth, with some power and established authority. And that the horrible man took nothing from you except time.

"Maybe after you're past this, we can be friends. But you can call me Esme now, if you like."

"I'd like that, Esme," Amy said with a sincere smile. "I'd like to consider you my friend right now, too?"

"You're sweet," the giantess said with a shiny smile. "Now, let's get you fixed up, Dr. Franklin." She reached for one of the boxes.

In a matter of minutes, Amy's wounds had been patched, her knee wrapped in a compress, aspirin doled out and tea poured.

She rested quite comfortably on the towel while Esme stitched a simple tunic out of a handkerchief. "I've called Mr. Roarke, Dr. Franklin, but he won't come until you've got something to wear."

"Thanks, Esme."

"Then he'll take you to the infirmary." She stretched the tunic between fingers and lay it next to Amy. "A little longer. For the coverage," she judged.

"Thanks," Amy repeated. Yeah, she didn't really want to be showing much skin right now. She wasn't looking forward to seeing men for a while, either. Even the charming Roarke.

Odd that after being raped by a giant robot, she was bonding with an even more giant robot. But Esme's whole attitude was disarming. And she'd proven to be a protector. Kinda like having the 101st Airborne walk you to the corner store.

She sipped her tea and wondered what court she'd take Joseph to.

------

The infirmary had little to do beyond offer a sedative. But the emergency was past. She was better off than most victims. She KNEW the bastard wasn't out there any more, that he hadn't escaped from the cops, that no lawyer would get him bail.

He was in pieces, and on that score she was at peace.

She actually smiled as her wheelchair was pushed into Mr. Roarke's bungalow.

------------

"I cannot tell you, Ms. Franklin, how sorry I am for your ordeal."

She nodded and sipped the tea he had offered. She thought Esme's was better, but that might not be the most objective evaluation. That brought a small smile to her lips.

There was no telling what Roarke would have thought of her smiling at a time like this. She glanced up to see, but he ignored it.

"As an American, you're probably thinking of suing Fantasy Island. I should warn you that we are a sovereign nation. Your contract was with me, so you could not find a court with jurisdiction that I do not own.

"However, I am willing to settle out of court, here and now. I will offer you four million dollars in damages."

"Mr. Roarke-" she started to protest. She didn't hold this man responsible. Joseph would burn in a poking, throbbing and dry hell if she could manage it, but it wasn't anyone else's fault.

"Roarke, please," he said with a smile. "And alright. Ten million."

"Roarke!"

"Twenty. Twenty million dollars, here and now. We will say no more about it." She stared, jaw slightly open. He waved at his own mouth.

"Please, Amy, even after such torment, there's no reason to be unladylike." She closed her mouth. He smiled and turned slightly away from her.

"I have to say, we were unaware of the full capabilities of the materials we gained from Delos Amusements," he was saying. "I am amazed at the recordings of the event. The full features will be very useful in this and other projects.

"I think I will offer your Mr. Cavenaugh a substantial bonus for his contributions. Ten. No, twenty thousand dollars. Yes. Over and above his other contract."

She stared at him, horrified.

"Which," he went on, "establishes a firm connection between your rape and your Joseph. And his contract is through an American holding company I own. You should not have a problem finding a lawyer in the U.S. to sue him for everything he owns, down to the hairs on his lily white, cowardly ass," Roarke growled.

He smiled, showing a great deal of teeth. Amy smiled back.

------

Amy spent the next two weeks reviewing the Kong program. The computers at the volcano were being rebuilt so they loaded the software in Esmeralda's control room.

She lived in the kitchen, where Esme spent her breaks, her evenings, and her maintenance based day off. Their conversations were long and comforting.

And if Amy had to turn up her iPod so she wouldn't hear exclamations like, "My, what a SQUIRMY little rascal you are," that was well worth it.

The giantess delivered her to the clearing for the seaplane, drawing stares from everyone she stepped over. Amy waved goodbye and watched her slip off through the trees.

"I have always found Miss Esmeralda to be a perfect Lady," Roarke said at her elbow. "Ever since the day she was booted up."

"She is nice," Amy agreed. She turned to look Roarke in the eye. "Why am I here?"

He raised an eyebrow. "It's just..." She paused, waving her hands around. "It's just that you hear rumors. People come here, ask for a fantasy. They don't get what they want, they get what they need. What, uh, you think they need.

"Did I.... Was I getting something I needed?"

Roarke did not dismiss her off hand. He placed his hands behind his back and regarded her.

"Doctor Franklin. I am not in the habit of deciding that women need or deserve to be raped." She let out a breath. It changed things...somehow.

"However," he went on. "If you're looking for something to take away from this experience?" She nodded ever so slightly. "You were in charge of the world's most famous coma patient for ten years. You never went more than ten miles from his side. Your life was rather...boring.

"During his rampages, you traveled across quite a bit of the country. To find him, to protect him, to rescue his mate. To establish the great primate reserve for his child.

"You met people, you made friends, you had an adventure. You faced danger and you survived.

"Then you spent the last seven years buried in the University of Atlanta."

"I toured," she protested.

"Eight speaking engagements in seven years," he said with a shake of his head. "Four of them, you didn't even spend one night in a motel. You left your home for identical airplane rides, indistinguishable auditoriums and airport restaurants.

"And now, you have fought for your life and your liberty." He gestured towards Esme's castle. "Made a new friend. Traveled more in the last month than in the previous twenty years."

The plane flew overhead. Departing guests started to gather in the clearing while lei-bearing wahine's lined the dock.

"I wonder, Doctor Amy Franklin," Roarke said with a smile, "what it will take to get you out of your shell next time."

He kissed her hand, wished safe travels for her and strode off to greet the new guests.

She wandered over to where the waiting travelers gathered. The guy from the incoming flight was there, leaning against the railing on the dock, reading a new paperback.

"Hey," she said as she strode up.

"Hey, back at you," he replied, pocketing the novel.

"Did, ah..." What the hell was his fantasy? Not the snake-man. Oh. "Did you find Atlantis?"

"Nah," he said with a wry grin. "Sub crashed on an uncharted underwater formation. Not my fault," he added.

"Of course not," she agreed with a smile.

"And we spent two weeks trying to survive, trying to repair our craft and facing up to some difficult choices. I learned a lot about myself." His eyes gazed into the distance. "What I am, what I'm not willing to do to survive."

He shook off his mood and smiled at her. "Long story short, it was worth the trip."

She stepped up to lean on the rail beside him. "You wanna tell me about it?"

He smiled and turned towards her. "Well, I got to meet the expedition on the support ship...."
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.TICKING TOCK KONG