Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: Hungry Guy
Title: FEMBORG HYBRID
Universe: Fembot
Summary: Unlike a fembot, a femborg is a real human woman who is can see
and is aware of everything around her, but has no control over her body. 
Rather, a wireless servo control module is spliced into her spinal cord
just below her brain, and her body is controlled remotely by her owner with
a hand-held remote control.  NOTE: The term femborg derives from the term
cyborg, there is no association with Star Trek type Borg in this story.
Keywords: M/F ScFi bot oral humil rough viol het Mdom Mpov snuff horror
caution CAUTION!
Language: english

   FEMBORG HYBRID By Hungry Guy (hungry@stoolmail.zzn.com)

   WARNING: SUPER TEAR-JERKER!

   Nathan had been saving up for a new car for years, and had finally saved
up about $15,000.  Yet he was having doubts if a car was the best use for
that money.  He'd been having girlfriend problems lately, and was becoming
fed up with trying to read their minds and stay out of trouble.  He knew
that most guys preferred fembots anyway to avoid all those problems, and
because of that there was about 10-to-1 surplus of available women to
available men, and many girls were willing to put up with shit to land a
human boyfriend.

   But Nathan had doubts about a fembot, too.  He didn't want to fuck a
machine.  He wanted to fuck female flesh.  True, a fembot never has a
headache, doesn't have a gag reflex, is ready and willing to have sex at
the guy's slightest whim, and does all the chores and cooking without
expecting any help.  But it was still a machine.  Plus, a fembot cost about
$50 grand--way out of his price range, even though they've come down in
price from the six figures they went for just a few years ago.  If he had
the cash, he might buy a fembot just to do the work around the house and
not to fuck, but he had to be careful how he spent his money.

   While watching the news on the local cable channel an ad came on for a
government femborg auction the following Saturday.  Nathan had heard about
femborgs, but had never known anyone who had one or what they really were.
He'd heard that they cost much less than fembots, but nothing specific.

   So, after the news, he went online and googled around for information
about femborgs.  What he found surprised him.  He discovered that most
femborgs and maleborgs are condemned prisoners on death row who requested
acceptance into the CH-MEMS program to escape execution.  That's short for
*Cyborg Human Micro Electrical Mechanical Systems*, following the use of
the original term HI-MEMS and CI-MEMS programs by the military to use
cyborg insects to spy on enemy encampments on the front lines.  What they
do is to sever the person's spinal cord just below the brain and implant an
wireless electronic servo control module.  The person is still fully alert
and could see, hear, and be aware of everything he does, but has no control
over his body.  His body is little more than a remote-controlled doll
operated by a hand-held controller.  Cyborg people are declared legally
dead at conversion, so it would be legal to buy, sell, and own them as
property, just like corpses are sold to universities, medical research
labs, and crash test facilities.  Indeed, medical labs and crash test
facilities often buy live CH-MEMS people for testing, all perfectly legal,
since they're legally dead already.  The profits from the sale of cyborg
people at government auction go to the victims of their crimes.  Cyborg
people don't fetch as high a price as bots because bots are autonomous and
can perform complex tasks independently and with little supervision.  They
are also imbued with a sense somewhat like Isaac Asimov's fictional laws of
robotics that act as a moral restraint that prevents bots from running amok
and hurting people.  Cyborg people, on the other hand, have to be operated
directly by a human operator with a remote controller that looks very much
like a PlayStation game controller.  Their actual minds are that of
dangerous condemned criminals, and so can never be allowed even the most
rudimentary control over their own actions.

   "Hmmmm," pondered Nathan.  "Seems cruel, even for a condemned criminal.
Still, it beats being executed." So Nathan checked his savings account, and
made up a wish list for what type of cyborg girl he would like to buy.

   He headed over to the state armory that Saturday, and signed in.  He was
given a bid card that he used to place bids on the cyborgs being sold.  He
walked up and down the large hall examining the cyborg people on display.
They all stood as still as stone statues.  Only the movement of their eyes
game them away as human.  There were a number of attractive young women to
be auctioned.  Looks like he stood a good chance at getting one.

   For the first hour or so, a steady stream of males were auctioned off.
The first female to come up for auction was a black woman with curly black
hair.  He didn't really want a black woman, but he placed a low bid to see
what would happen.  He bid $1000 on her, and she sold for $15000.

   The next female to come up was a blonde women with tattoos all over her
arms--a definite gangster girl type.  Well, that's to be expected.  She was
reasonably attractive otherwise, so he bid $16000.  And he won her!

   He wend over to the cashier and paid for his purchase, and a fellow
approached him fiddling with some kind of video game controller.  The girl
followed behind him.  Nathan wondered how he could operate the girl with
the controller if the girl was following him.

   The clerk behind the counter handed Nathan a manilla envelope.  Nathan
opened it and pulled out all her legal papers--her birth certificate, her
death certificate for she had been declared legally dead when she became a
cyborg, her medical records, and her police and prison records.  The clerk
behind the counter told Nathan to follow Joe next.

   It seems that Joe was the guy controlling the girl with the controller,
so Nathan followed him and the girl to a small room off to the side.

   "You know how to operate a femborg?" asked Joe.

   Nathan studied his purchase for a moment.  She stood there perfectly
still, eyes darting this way and that.  "Nope," said Nathan.

   Joe handed him the controller and asked, "Ever play a First Person
Shooter video game?"

   "Nope.  Never was into video games."

   "Well then," said Joe.  "See these two big knobs?"

   "Yeah."

   "They're called thumbsticks."

   Nathan pressed one of the thumbsticks and the girl stepped oddly
sideways and fell down, banging her head, yet didn't make a peep in pain.
She remained lying in a lump on the floor without moving.

   "Whoa, cowboy," said Joe, who then reached for the controller, fiddled
with the thumbsticks, and had the girl back on her feet in an instant.

   "The left thumbstick makes her move forward and back, left and right. 
The right thumbstick causes her to turn in place and bend over.  Use just a
slight nudge to move her at first, or she'll fall flat on her face again.

   Nathan practiced a while longer as Joe watched, and soon got the hang of
making the girl walk around without falling.

   "Now type something," said Joe.

   Nathan typed a few random words on the little keyboard on the
controller, "T-H-E R-A-I-N I-N S-P-A-I-N F-A-L-L-S M-A-I-N-L-Y O-N T-H-E
S-U-B-M-A-R-I-N-E."

   As Nathan typed, the girl said, "The rain in Spain falls mainly on the
submarine."

   "Wow!" said Nathan.  "That's cool!  Can she sing?"

   "No.  Now see that screen?"

   "Yeah," said Nathan.  "That screen shows what she's looking at, right?"

   "Yes."

   "That's how you steered her before even though she was following you?"

   "Exactly."

   "And what are all these numbers for?"

   "Her blood pressure, blood oxygen level, bladder, bowels, and other
readings.  If her bladder or bowels get too full, you gotta make her sit on
the toilet and do the necessary."

   "I have to make her to that?  She can't even do that on her own?"

   "It would be too dangerous to let her have _any_ voluntary control."

   "I see, so is there any danger in having her around, then?"

   "Not at all.  Her spinal cord is severed just below the brain in two
places a quarter inch apart.  There's no possible way they can ever
reconnect.  The module implanted in the back of her neck connects to the
two severed ends." Joe pointed to a lump on the back of her neck with a
number tattoo over it.  "Sensory signals pass through the module up to her
brain so that she can still feel, see, and hear everything that goes on. 
Sensory signals like sight and hearing are also sent to the controller But
signals..."

   "You mean she's listening to us talk about her right now?"

   "Yup!  She is.  She knows you just bought her.  She's probably relieved
those guys in suits in the back of the room didn't buy her."

   "Why?"

   "They're from Ford.  They buy CH-MEMS people to use as crash test
dummies."

   "What!  That's legal to use live people as crash test dummies?"

   "Of course.  They're declared legally dead when they become CH-MEMS. 
They're no different from corpses that are used for the same purposes."

   "Wow!" gasped Nathan.

   "But to go on, motor signals from her brain are ignored by the control
unit.  The control unit receives control signals from your controller, and
controls her motor functions.  She can't possibly hurt anyone again."

   "What did she do?"

   "I don't know.  It's in those court records you got."

   "Now what?" asked Nathan.

   "She's your property now.  Do what you want with her."

   So after a clumsy way home, and her falling down a couple more times, he
finally got her home.

   Nathan managed to get her to sit in the sofa next to him.  "Okay," said
Nathan.  "Now!  I need a blowjob.  How do I work you?" he asked her.

   She didn't answer, of course, though she did roll her eyes up.  "Yeah,
roll your eyes all you want.  When I get this thing figured out, you're
going to be giving me lots and lots of blowjobs."

   He opened the operator's manual that came with the controller.  And with
it flipped open, he made her stand.  Making her undress herself with the
controller might have been possible, but he chose the expedient method.  He
made her lift her arms up, and then he just unzipped her jump suit, and
pulled it up and off her.

   A little later, he figured out how to make her kneel.  Then he made her
open her mouth.  "Perfect!" he said as he pulled his jeans off and slid his
cock into her mouth.

   He was extra hard at the thought of fucking a girl that he actually
owned, and he could feel his cock being pinched where it turned at the back
of her throat.  He began sliding in and out, in and out, in and out, until
his orgasm finally welled up and flooded her throat with wave after wave of
pleasure.

   Thus satisfied, he pulled himself out of her mouth and went to make
dinner, leaving her kneeling there in the middle of his living room.  He
made himself some chicken nuggets and rice for dinner, making a little
extra rice for her.  As he ate, he would occasionally give her a spoonful
of rice in her mouth, which she swallowed on her own, fortunately.

   A little later, he sat down on his sofa to watch TV for a while before
bed as she knelt off to the side.  Nathan reached for her controller and
controlled her to stand and come and sit on the sofa so she could watch TV
also.

   While watching CSI:SomethingOrOther, he reached for that envelope of
papers.  "I don't even know what your name is," he said, pulling out her
papers.  He looked over her birth certificate, and saw that her name was
Debbie Langley.  "Debbie," he said.  She looked up at him for a moment and
then looked away.

   Her death certificate gave a date about two months ago.  Otherwise, it
was nothing noteworthy.

   Her criminal record was several inches thick.  Poring through her
criminal record, he got to the indictments and convictions and gasped.  A
string of house robberies, check forgeries, drug deals, and a few bar
fights.  He sat engrossed reading the trial transcript.  Wow!  Thinking
nobody was home, she and her boyfriend broke into a house to get drug
money. When somebody came out of a bedroom, Debbie's boyfriend struck him
with a lamp and knocked him down.  Then the boyfriend held him down while
Debbie tied him up with the cord from the lamp.  The noise aroused another
adult, and they did the same thing.  Debbie watched as her boyfriend slit
their throats just as the children came into the room in their pajamas. 
Debbie and her boyfriend then grabbed the kids, tied them up, and slit
their throats too.  Their botched robbery yielded them $25.

   The boyfriend was sentenced to death by lethal injection, while Debbie
requested to become a CH-MEMS in lieu of the death penalty.  Nathan looked
up at Debbie.  "Holy fuck!  What kind of monster are you?"

   Debbie avoided his gaze.

   Nathan never felt such an internal rage as he felt just then.  Grabbing
Debbie's controller, he walked her through the house and out back and
positioned her standing in a large patch of dirt near a shed well beyond
his house on his acre-plus property.  As the sun went down, thunder rumbled
in the distance.

   Entering the shed where he keeps his lawn mower, snow blower, and other
tools, he returned with a five-gallon container of gasoline.  He opened the
cap, hefted the container, and poured the gas onto Debbie's head where it
drenched her whole body and collected in a puddle at her feet.

   He stepped back and pulled a book of matches from his pocket and lit
one. He stood there, several feet from Debbie holding a lit match as his
mind raced.  The yellowish gas covering her body prevented him from seeing
the tears streaming from her eyes.

   Nathan stood there until the match burned the tip of his fingers,
whereon he blew it out.  "I paid a small fortune for you this morning.  I
can't just torch you."

   He returned inside just as fat raindrops started slapping the ground. 
He changed his clothes and took a shower.  Then he had a glass of wine to
help him sleep and went to bed.  During that night, a series of
thunderstorms rolled through, waking Nathan a few times during the night
with thunderclaps and pounding rain against the windows.  He considered
bringing Debbie in, but he didn't want to get soaked, himself.

   It wasn't until around noon the follwing day that he crawled out of bed
and had a light lunch.  A little later after that, he walked out back to
Debbie.  Her hair was a tangled wet mess, and the torrential rain during
the night had washed the gasoline off her.  "Are you thirsty?" It was a
fairly warm summer day.  She must be.  Debbie blinked and stuck her tongue
out.  Nathan took that to mean, "Yes."

   He went into that shed and found a rusty old soup can full of cobwebs
and dead bugs.  He returned to face her, pulled his jeans down and pissed
into the can.  He held it up to her lips.  "Drink it if you want.  Or
don't. I don't give a fuck."

   She gulped it down eagerly as he slowly poured it into her mouth.  After
she had gulped down the whole can, she stuck out her tongue.  "You want
more?  Tough!" He threw the can onto the ground and returned inside.  Then
he did what he normally does on a lazy Sunday.  He found a football game on
TV to consume most of the day, he surfed for porn on the internet, he
watched a DVD, he listened to his playlist for a while.

   Nathan had many sick days accumulated, so on Monday morning, he called
in sick and slept in.  Monday turned into a repeat of Sunday, though Nathan
did return to Debbie later to give her more piss to drink from that rusty
can.  Then he controlled her back into the house where he sat her on the
sofa while he got online.  He wasn't sure what he wanted to do about her,
but he googled around for information about femborgs.

   Then he found something interesting.  Several companies made replacement
femborg brains, that is, computer AI brains designed to be surgically
implanted in a human skull replacing the human brain, and connected by a
wire to that controller on the back of her neck, making the femborg
autonomous just like a fembot, but in a human body.  One such company
described the product as coming in a sealed sterile pouch to be opened by
the doctors during the implant surgery.  The brain gets its power by being
connected to the jugular veins.  No, being a essentially computer inside a
brain-shaped container, it doesn't need blood; rather the blood flow turns
tiny turbines which turns tiny alternators, which provides sufficient power
for the brain.  No batteries to replace, and no resulting periodic surgery!
Nathan glanced back at her and said, "Debbie, you're a dead woman walking."

   He returned his view to the screen and clicked on the order button.  He
then gave her some toast and real water, and then sat to watch some TV
while she stood naked in the middle of his living room like a living
statue.

   He returned to work on Tuesday, and the next couple of days passed
eventually.  Nathan fed Debbie before and after work and had her use the
toilet, but didn't touch her otherwise.  The brain came by UPS on Thursday,
as he ordered it by 2nd day priority.  Opening the box, it contained a
smaller box, which was sealed with bright red tape warning the buyer that
it should be opened only under sterile conditions by the surgeon performing
the installation.

   There was also a small printed information packet that described the AI
mind in waiting.  Her name was Selphie, and she had actually been conscious
and living in a simulated virtual reality world in an AI server somewhere
for several years.  As do all AI minds, that's the kind of environment
where she achieved her emergence and became truly self-aware before being
put in service in a physical robot body in the real world.

   So Nathan then looked up a couple of CH-MEMS doctors in the area. 
Legitimate CH-MEMS doctors don't actually convert people into cyborg
humans--only government doctors are allowed to do that to condemned
criminals who've been chosen to be converted in lieu of execution--but they
are a step down from general practitioners and a step up from
veterinarians.

   He called one and made an appointment for the following week.

   The week dragged for Nathan.  Sometimes he would glance up at Debbie and
see tears dribbling down her cheeks.  Obviously, she knew what was in store
for her.

   The first appointment was just an initial consultation.  Nathan dressed
her in that black jumpsuit that she came with and brought the brain in the
box which the doctor looked over and pronounced it acceptable.  The doctor
gave Debbie a general exam to determine that she was in good health.  Then,
with Nathan and Debbie sitting in a small conference room, the doctor
explained the procedure.

   "What will happen," said Doctor Gibbons, "is that, under general
anesthesia, we will open Debbie's cranium, and remove her human brain."

   "Yeah, I know," said Nathan.

   The doctor glanced over at Debbie, who was crying again.  "Maybe she
shouldn't hear this discussion."

   "I don't care," said Nathan.

   "Okay," shrugged the doctor.  "Then we will implant the electronic brain
in her skull where her real brain was.  A cable will be run under the skin
from the brain down the back of the neck and plug it into a port in the
existing control unit at the back of her neck.  At that pint, the AI brain
will be in full control of the body.  She'll have the mind of a fembot,
with the ability to talk and move around on her own, but with a
flesh-and-blood human body."

   "Sounds great, doc!" said Nathan.  "When can you do it?"

   "I usually do surgery on Tuesdays, you'll have to schedule with the
secretary.  And what do you want me to do with her real brain?"

   "I don't know.  What will become of it?"

   "If you'd like, I can sell it for medical research, and give you a
credit off my fee."

   "It won't ever be, like, reinstalled anywhere?  Will it?  You know she's
a dangerous criminal who murdered a whole family for drug money."

   "I know.  All CH-MEMS candidates were originally condemned criminals who
opted to become cyborgs to escape execution." The doctor glanced at Debbie
again.  "That doesn't always work out for them that way, though."

   Nathan laughed.  "Nope."

   "So no, without blood, the human brain will die almost immediately. 
Debbie will be gone by the time the surgery is over."

   "Sounds good to me."

   "So you understand what you're doing to Debbie?"

   "Yes.  I do."

   "Then we can proceed."

   Nathan made the appointment with the receptionist as he left with
Debbie. As he was signing some paper, the receptionist handed Nathan a
tissue.

   "What's the tissue for?" he asked.

   "Your girl is crying," said the receptionist.

   He reached up and wiped the tears from Debbie's eyes.

   "What's her name?" asked the receptionist.

   "Debbie," said Nathan.

   The receiptionist looked at Debbie.  "Don't worry, Debbie.  Doctor
Gibbons is a good surgeon.  I'm sure the surgery will be successful."

   Nathan bit his lip and looked away for a moment, then added, "Thank you.
I'm sure it will, too."

   He then controlled Debbie out to his car and home.

   The following week dragged by so slowly.  A couple of times, he caught
Debbie staring at his crotch sticking her tongue out and wiggling it as
best as she could.  Nathan figured she was trying to save herself the only
way she could.

   So one of those times in the evening, he controlled her into his bedroom
and positioned her flat on her back on his bed and opened her mouth with
the controller.  With his clothes off too, he crawled over her and hovered
over her with his rock-hard cock dangling over her mouth.

   "Is this what you want me do to?" asked Nathan.

   She darted her eyes up and down and licked her lips.  Nathan assumed
that meant, "Yes."

   So at that, he thrust his hips down, ramming his cock down her throat,
hard!  He pumped her again and again as his orgasm slowly welled up in his
loins.

   After a few minutes of pummeling Debbie's face, two things happened.  He
came in a powerful series of ejaculations that felt so good that he just
held his cock in place down her throat and let it happen.  And Debbie shot
a near continuous stream of vomit out of her nose onto his balls.  He was
in too much ecstasy to care at the moment; he just let his orgasm go on and
on, flooding Debbie's throat with his spunk.  As he wound down, he just lay
upon her as his softening cock continued to dangle in her mouth.

   Nathan even fell asleep on top of her for a while immediately after
that. Maybe an hour.  But then he rolled off her and cleaned all the dried
vomit that crusted on her face and his balls and thighs.  Gross!  Not too
much got on his comforter, and so was able to wipe it off easy.

   As he climbed back into bed, ne noticed Debbie watching him.  "Did you
enjoy that?" he asked.

   She moved her eyes up and down, "Yes."

   "Really?" he said.  "Do you want me to do it again?"

   Debbie hesitated before moving her eyes, "Yes," again.

   "Okay," shruged Nathan.  "If that's what you want."

   He found himself hard again alsmost immediately.  One, once again, me
mountred her face and rammed his cock down her throat just as he had done
before.

   His orgam took a while longer to build a second time in a row, but he
eventually exploded into her throat once again.  And again, as he came, she
shot a stream of vomit onto his balls as he drained himself into her
throat.

   Drained for the second time that night, he cleaned himself off again,
and then wiped Debbie's face.  At that, he controlled Debbie to get under
the covers and rested her head on a pillow.  Okay, he figured that he'd let
her last day or two of life be somewhat comfortable.  He then took a shower
and joined her, and was quickly asleep again for the night.

   On Monday, Nathan received a letter from some law firm.  "I hate
lawyers," he muttered to himself and threw the letter on his dining table.
He decided to wait until tomorrow to read it, after he gets back from
Debbie's brain transplant.

   He took a vacation day off work on Tuesday and showed up right on time
for the surgery.  They rolled Debbie away in a wheelchair as he waited in
the waiting room.

   About three hours later, the doctor came out into the waiting room and
asked Nathan to follow him.  In a small comfortable conference room, Debbie
stood with a huge wrapping of gauze bandage around her head.  She faced him
as he entered the room.

   "Debbie?" asked Nathan.

   "No.  I'm Selphie.  Are you Nathan?  My owner?"

   "Yes, Selphie.  I am."

   "I'm pleased to meet you, Nathan!" she said and rushed into his arms.

   Nathan glanced at the doctor, who discreetly bowed and backed out of the
room.

   Selphie smiled sweetly at him and puckered her lips.  Nathan met her for
a long deep kiss.

   "You like to kiss," she said with a smile.

   "I do," he said.

   "I'm glad," she said.  "What else do you like to do?"

   "Lots of things?"

   "I can't wait for you to show me," she said.

   His bravado increased, so he admitted, "I especially like to fuck a
woman in the mouth.  Real hard, like.  Do you mind?"

   "Of course I don't mind.  You own me, and can do anything you want to
me. If you enjoy that, then I enjoy it too."

   "What about your gag reflex?  Your brain is in a real human body, not a
robot body, you know."

   "I know.  There are some reflex responses that I can't control in a
human body, and some that I can control to a limited degree.  I'm looking
forward to pleasing you, Nathan."

   "Then let's head home," said Nathan.

   Nathan signed some final papers with the receptionist, and was home with
Selphie shortly afterward.

   "It's so nice to be able to interact with you," said Nathan as Selphie
followed him inside on her own volition.  "Instead of having to control
your every movement with this stupid thing," he said as he held up Debbie's
remote controller.

   "Yes," she said.  "That must have been annoying.  So would you like to
make love with me now?  Maybe fuck my face brutally the way you like to?"

   "I'd love that.  I hope you don't puke all over me like the last time
you did."

   Selphie smiled.  "If I do, I'll clean up afterward while you fall
asleep. Not to worry.  It might be a good idea to put a towel under my head
first, just in case, though."

   With a huge grin, Nathan said, "Let's do it!"

   Nathan put a towel on his bed and Selphie lay down on her back and
opened her mouth, in the same position that she had been in a couple of
days earlier.

   Nathan climbed upon her and, once again, slammed his cock down her
throat and began pummeling the girl.  He orgasm built slowly, and then he
erupted once again down her throat.  Wave after wave of pleasure shot
through his body as she lay there gently stroking his back with her
fingertips.

   Finally, his orgasm completed and he rolled off her and sat up.  She sat
up and smiled at him.  "You enjoyed that very much, didn't you?"

   "I did, and you didn't puke."

   "The urge was there, but I was able to resist it.  However, you may want
to know that my blood oxygen level dropped dangerously low near the end of
it, since I couldn't breathe for several minutes."

   "I'm sorry," said Nathan.  "I guess you don't want me to do that again,
huh?"

   "I's up to you, Nathan.  I'm your property."

   "I'm glad you see things that way."

   "Of course I do.  But I also have a pussy and an asshole.  You may enjoy
fucking those holes as well."

   "Oh, I do," said Nathan.  "But the mouth is my favorite."

   "Then it's my favorite hole to get fucked in, too," she said with a
grin.

   "Great!" said Nathan.  "Anyway, it's been a long day for both of us, and
I have to get up at 8 tomorrow to go to work.  So let's call it a day."

   Nathan was about to climb into bed when he rememberd that letter from
that law firm.  "What if it's important?" he asked himself.

   He pulled himself out of bed and opened it.

   It began:

   _Dear Sir, I understand that you are the owner of the CH-MEMS person
known as Debbie Langley.  I represented her boyfriend during his trial.  He
issued a confession prior to his execution and wished me to locate whoever
purchased Debbie and forward it to him.  Please forgive the delay, it took
some legwork to track you down._

   The attached note read:

   _To Whom It May Concern, Debbie didn't do nothing wrong.  After we tied
up them people, she tried to stop me from killing them.  I smacked her
upside the head and told her to get out if she can't take the heat.  So she
ran.  Maybe she ain't no saint, be she didn't kill nobody and she don't
deserve the death penalty and she don'd deserve to be turned into some
remote control sex doll._

   Nathan just stood there for the longest time.

   Selphie eventually came out of the bedroom, "Are you okay, Nathan?  Why
are you crying?  What's that letter?"

   "It's nothing," said Nathan as he tore up the letters.  He took Selphie
by the hand and said, "Let's go to bed."

   * END *