ALIENATION Ripley slammed into the medlab. God, she could kill Burke. It seemed like every time she spoke to the man she came away with a headache. And she had a real killer of a headache now; something she definitely didn't need. With all the problems they had right now, she needed to concentrate, to think clearly. Bishop looked up from the tests he was running on the Facehugger. "Is there something I can help you with, Lieutenant?" he asked. Ripley looked at the android with distrust. He seemed okay, but one could never tell. The Company could have programmed him just like they had Ash. She'd keep a careful eye on him. When the time came. Now didn't seem to be one of those times. "I need something for a headache. Nothing strong; I want to keep my mind clear; just something to take the edge off." Bishop spoke in his husky voice. "Ah. I have just the thing." He rummaged through a couple of cabinets and emerged with a small vial of clear liquid. "This should be exactly what you need." He picked up a sterile syringe and began to prepare it. "Your arm please, Lieutenant." Ripley removed her outer shirt, and sat down on a chair next to Bishop. He swabbed her arm, and she felt the sting of the needle. When he was through; she started to get up to leave, but Bishop stopped her. "You need to stay here for a few minutes, Lieutenant. Just precautions." "Bishop, I'm sure I'll be fine," she replied, and got up to retrieve her shirt She felt Bishop's hands on her shoulders as he guided her back to the chair. "I'm sure you're right, Lieutenant; however, regulations are regulations." She heard a tone of amusement in his voice. "And I'm sure you know that as an Artificial Person there are some matters that I have no choice in." Ripley remembered Ash and shuddered. Was Bishop trying to tell her something? Bishop's hands were still on her shoulders, even though she had returned to the chair. He felt her shudder. He also could feel the tightness in her shoulders; no doubt the source of her headache. Therapeutic massage was one of his....talents. He hated to think of them as programs. He began working the muscles in her shoulders, getting rid of the knots that were there. Ripley, startled, began to protest. "Bishop, I..." "Quiet!" he commanded. "When this pain killer wears off, your headache is only going to come back, unless you relax. So just sit down and let me work the stress out of your muscles." Ripley considered protesting again, but decided against it. Why not allow herself a moment of luxury? She deserved it. And she could afford to take a few minutes off. She closed her eyes and let her chin drop to her chest. "You are very good at this, Bishop." His voice sounded hesitant, pleased. "Thank you." Almost shyly, he said, "If you'd like, I could do your lower back as well. Just lay there on that table." "Okay, why not?" Ripley said. She stood up, and stretching, walked over to the exam table. Before she lay down, she removed her undershirt as well. Bishop caught a glimpse of small, firm breasts before she lay down on her stomach and they were hidden from his view. He began his work again. As he concentrated on ridding her muscles of every knot, he also considered that she apparently didn't see him as a man. He doubted that she would have removed her shirt as readily in front of any of the organic men on the team. Did she think he didn't have feelings? Emotions? Or that he didn't get horny on occasion? Although he was, for the most part, quiet and unassuming, he felt a flash of anger. As an Artificial Person, he was subjected to many slights and insults that an Organic never had to deal with. He was treated as an object, a servant. Less. His hands lowered to her firm buttocks, and he kneaded the muscles there. Ripley gave a low moan of pleasure. "Bishop, you are a miracle of science. Where can I find your massage program? I'd like to put it in my own 'droid at home." Bishop cleared his throat to keep the thickness out of his voice. "I am programmed in every major therapeutic massage technique, and a few of the more exotic ones as well." He was silent for a moment, and then he said, "Would you care to try my foot massage technique?" The combination of Bishop's massage and the painkiller had made Ripley feel very good, she hadn't realized how tightly she had been wound. "That would be great, Bishop." She rolled over onto her back, and then sat up. She removed her shoes and socks, and then as an afterthought, removed her pants as well. Might as well be really comfortable. She got back up onto the exam table, her legs dangling from the knees at the end. Bishop moved the chair up to the table, and sat down in it. He picked up Ripley's foot and raised it to his chest. His hands began to work the muscles in her foot, and Ripley thought she had never felt anything so wonderful in her life. She let her head fall back, and she allowed her thoughts to wander, something she hadn't done for years, it seemed. As Bishop sat in front of her, with her foot in his hands; he followed the length of her leg with his eyes. She had long, wonderful legs. He put her left foot down and picked up her right. He began to work his magic on the bottom of her foot; working on the arch of her foot. Ripley lay back onto the table, relaxed. Bishop couldn't help but notice that her crotch was at his eye level, and he looked at her white underwear, and thought about what was underneath it, just covered by a scrap of fabric. He sighed. If only she thought of him as a real man. He felt like a real man. He had the same desires as any of the other men on the team. Ripley was in heaven. She could almost forget the horror that was waiting in the dark. Bishop was working on the muscles in her calf, and working up towards her thigh muscles. He really had a talent for this. If she had to stand up now, she'd probably fall right to the ground. Her legs felt like jelly. Bishop hadn't had a woman for a long time. Occasionally Vasquez would come to him and use him, but she hadn't for a while. Not that he cared. She treated him like a glorified sex toy. He wondered how Ripley would be. Not as aggressive as Vasquez, surely, but would she treat him like a man? Ripley moaned with pleasure. Bishop thought she looked like a cat when it was being petted. She was relaxed, and content looking. Her thighs were slightly parted, and he noticed the slight moisture that was beginning to dampen the crotch of her underwear. The sight startled him slightly. He was arousing her? He was programmed with many pleasuring techniques, but had rarely used them. The fact that he was an Artificial Person turned many women off, and others, like Vasquez, had no interest in being pleasured. They wanted a male body to use. Feeling slightly daring, he inched his massaging fingers closer to the juncture of her thighs. She parted her thighs even wider to allow him easier access to her inner muscles. At the same time, he noticed a difference in her body language. She no longer seemed as relaxed as she had. He also noticed that the dampness on her underwear was increasing. Ripley felt her arousal creeping up on her. Maybe after this relaxing massage, she would go find Hicks. At the very least, she'd go somewhere and masturbate this sexual tension away. Bishop's fingers were tantalizingly close to her crotch, and she didn't know how much longer she could stand it. She'd have to leave soon, or she might end up balling Bishop, she thought with amusement. Then she was shocked to feel one of Bishop's fingers sliding up under her underwear. She felt his finger lightly stroking her wet cunt , and she stiffened with shock. She began to protest, but was silenced by Bishop. "Sssh. Just think of it as another of my relaxation programs." She again opened her mouth to protest, but he said, "No one will know." His fingers began stroking her again, and she felt all protest drain from her. God, it felt so good. Why not? After all the hell she'd lived through she deserved to take pleasure where she found it. She relaxed back onto the table, and Bishop, pleased by her acquiescence, slowly removed her underwear. As he once again began lightly stroking her, she sighed with pleasure and spread her legs wide. Bishop moved up beside her, still stroking, and his lips came down on her nipple. Ripley marveled at the softness, the gentleness of them. Who would have thought? Then when his tongue flicked the tip of her nipple, her back arched in shock at the desire that shot through her. She moaned, and Bishop, encouraged by her desire, and feeling his own passion rise, began to suck on her nipple. "Oh, God, yessssss," she groaned, writhing upon the table. "God, your lips....yesss." Bishop's fingers began moving faster between her legs, and Ripley's head rolled from side to side. She could feel an orgasm starting to build up, but she knew it would only be a small one. She grabbed Bishop's hand, stopping him. At his questioning glance, she gasped, "Wait....not yet". Nodding his understanding, Bishop returned to his chair at the foot of the table. He sat down in it, and said in a voice that seemed even huskier than usual, "Slide down." Feeling a bizarre sense of deja vu that she realized stemmed from her last visit to the gynecologist, she slid down the table, exposing herself fully. She imagined Bishop saying, "That's it, feet in the stirrups....relax," and stifled an urge to giggle. She lay there, looking at the lights on the ceiling. There were four. She jumped then, as she felt Bishop's fingers lightly stroking her inner thighs. Her nether lips were swollen and aching, and she longed for Bishop's fingers, lightly stroking them again. But he only stroked her thighs, bringing his fingers closer to her burning center, and then away again. The ache began to build, and she didn't know if she could stand it any more. Then, she became aware of Bishop's hot breath against her tender folds. 'Oh, God, please', she prayed silently, 'give me relief.' She waited, holding her breath, for the touch of his lips on her aching lower lips. They felt more swollen than she could ever remember them being, and the wetness was flowing from her. Bishop had to know her need, but she only felt his stroking fingers on her thighs and his breath tickling her, teasing. "Bishop!" she cried out. "Dammit, Bishop!" A moment later she cried out in ecstasy as she felt his tongue lightly touch her clit. Her back arched, and she thrust herself into Bishop's face. His arms encircled her thighs, and he pulled her closer to him, lapping up her juices. She bucked up against him, thrashing in ecstasy. Bishop licked her almost fiercely, knowing that the time for any subtlety was past. He found her swollen clit with his teeth, and began to lightly suck on it. As he heard her gasp again with this new sensation, he inserted one of his thick fingers into her vagina, and began to slide it in and out. Ripley reached up to grab the top of the exam table. She needed something, anything to grab onto. She used the leverage to push herself even closer to Bishop's lips and fingers. Ripley felt an orgasm beginning to build, and almost before she realized it, it slammed into her with the force of a freight train. She opened her mouth to cry out, but mindful of the need for silence, even at a moment such as this, turned it into a silent scream. She stiffened, and then her orgasm was over. She sat up, quickly pushing Bishop away from her. The sudden tenderness of her pussy was almost unbearable. She put her hand to her head, trying to will away the lightheadedness. She was sweating, and breathing rapidly. She panted, trying to catch her breath, and then looked up at Bishop. "Bishop..." she gasped, "God, that was magnificent." Looking into his eyes, she said softly, "Thank you." Bishop looked at her, an unfathomable expression in his eyes. Pain, confusion? Gratitude? What an odd combination. He opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again. "Bishop," she said, "what is it?" A look of almost embarrassment came over his face, then he awkwardly gestured towards his crotch. "What about me?" he said softly, almost meekly. Ripley looked down at the bulge straining the fabric of his pants. Surprised, she looked up at him. "I never realized...that they made you...," now it was Ripley's turn to feel embarrassed. "I mean, I didn't know that they made you...fully male." "We were made to fully integrate into society. We eat, breathe, bleed, and feel pain." Bishop looked into her face. "Just like you do." As Ripley looked into his eyes, she felt a little ashamed of herself. She had treated him badly before. Not without reason, she thought. But maybe he's not like Ash. Ash hadn't seemed to want to be around the other crew members. But she had seen Bishop standing at the edges of the group; wanting to be included, and she wondered for the first time if he was lonely. Bishop started to turn away, and almost before she knew what she was doing, Ripley reached out to stop him. He turned to her, and as she looked into his face her hand brushed his groin lightly. A spasm of desire crossed his face, and then it was gone. Her fingers traced the length of his hardness, firmly, and she felt his cock jerk in response. "Come here," she said softly. She grasped his wrist and pulled him towards her, between her legs, then slowly unzipped his pants and freed his rigid cock. She stroked it softly, marveling that it felt like any man's cock, from the softness of his skin, and the heat, and the little pulse that pounded there. She reached lower and cupped his balls in her other hand, stroking. his penis at the same time. Again, a spasm crossed his face, and was quickly controlled. "You like that." Ripley said. It was not a question. Eyes closed, swallowing, Bishop nodded. "What about this?" Ripley asked, and she rubbed the head of his cock against her warm pussy. Bishop's jaws clenched, and he nodded again. Ripley had recovered from her orgasm, and was becoming aroused again. The soft tip of the android's cock felt heavenly against her pussy. She dipped it just slightly into her vagina, and then rubbed it against her clit. She could see that Bishop was almost painfully aroused by her teasing antics, and she laughed slightly. "Well, Bishop, do you want me?" He opened his eyes, and they blazed at her. He nodded. "Yes!" he rasped. Ripley lay back on the exam table, and stretched her arms out. She pulled her feet up onto the edge of the table, and looked at him. Her lips smiled an invitation. A little disconcerted, not quite sure if she had given her permission, Bishop slid his cock around her pussy lips, then back against her clit. When she moaned and wriggled upon the table, he put the head of his cock just into the entrance to her vagina. When Ripley did not resist, he slid it in, slowly, to the hilt. As he sheathed his cock deep within her warm pussy, it took every ounce of self-control not to lose himself in pounding oblivion. Much as he ached for his orgasm, he wanted this to last. He withdrew, torturously slow, and then waited for a moment before slamming back into her, deeply. Ripley gasped, and tried to spread her legs wider. Instead of withdrawing right away, Bishop stayed deep inside her, and leaned forward to lightly caress her nipples. Then he lowered his head, and began lightly licking them. The feel of his motionless cock deep within her and his skin against her pussy was driving Ripley crazy. She could even feel the pulse of his cock pounding deep within her. She brought her legs around his waist, and pulled herself tight against him. She began wriggling against him, rubbing her clit against him, and thinking she'd go insane if he didn't start fucking her. She began making low noises of frustration, wanting to scream from it. Abruptly, Bishop pulled out of her with a hoarse cry. He was breathing rapidly, and his teeth were clenched in an effort to bring himself under control. "Bishop," Ripley panted, "please." Bishop looked at her in surprise. This strong, independent woman was begging him, much as he had begged Vasquez for his release on many occasions. He reflected that apparently this type of control had nothing to do with human over android or even woman over man, but rather taking control of the situation. He thought with amusement that this lesson was something he might teach Vasquez the next time she came to him. "Bishop!" Ripley cried out. Her voice brought him out of his reverie. The lesson he had just learned had given him confidence, and he knew that he was back in control of his body. He would cum when he wanted to, not before. He slid slowly back into her tight warm sheath. As he pumped in and out of Ripley's body, he enjoyed the mewling sounds of desire she was making, and then noticed that he was groaning as well. He grabbed her slim ankles and pulled them up to his shoulders, giving himself even deeper access. He began slamming into her, harder and harder, and then he reached down and spread her pussy lips with one hand, and lightly rubbed her swollen clit with his thumb. Ripley's cries became frantic now, and she began thrashing against him. Suddenly she cried out, and stiffened. He could see the ecstasy in her face, and then she went limp. Knowing that Ripley had gotten her pleasure, Bishop allowed himself his release. He pulled her legs from his shoulders, spreading them wide. Then he drove himself into her, deeply, powerfully, pounding until he exploded with orgasm. He threw his head back and uttered a harsh, strangled cry, and then collapsed on top of Ripley. They lay there together, panting, limbs intertwined, Bishop's opaque android perspiration mixing with Ripley's clear human sweat. For a few moments they lay there, and then Bishop withdrew from Ripley's body, and she began to get dressed. Bishop straightened himself out, tucking his shirt in, and zipping his pants back up. When they were finished, there was a moment of awkwardness between them. Bishop didn't know what to say. "Thank you" seemed somehow pathetic. It had been more than sex to him; he'd gotten a sense of his own power from her, a sense of personhood. Funnily enough, he didn't think he knew her well enough to explain. Hell, he didn't know anyone well enough to talk to about it. Suddenly, he felt lonelier than he ever had before. He felt so different, but he knew he'd always be looked at as a piece of equipment. Not for the first time, he cursed the makers who had put emotions into an android who would only feel pain from them. Ripley looked at Bishop's face, and got a sense of how he felt. She didn't know why he was melancholy, but she understood it. She was too. Her life had been altered so drastically that if she'd stopped to think about it, she'd go mad. The odds of survival here were not good. And this interlude with Bishop was likely the last moment of pleasure she'd ever know. For the first time, she began to wonder about Bishop, and how he felt, and why. What were his reasons for being unhappy? What kind of hopes had he had for his life? Did he have hopes? Realizing that she'd never have the time to find the answers to these questions, she merely looked at him, and then turned to leave. Suddenly, she turned back around and went to Bishop. She took his face in her hands and tenderly kissed his lips. Then she was gone. Bishop put his fingers to his lips. He had never been kissed before. With real regret, he recalled the directive that Burke had given him. He was unable to override it. He was a military android, but the Company had created him, and had installed a function that could supersede all his other programs. He wasn't even able to tell anyone about it. The thought that he might have to betray these people, this woman, gave him a stabbing ache deeper than his loneliest day. As he turned back to continue his research, a single opaque tear ran down his cheek.