From: c9036984@cc.newcastle.edu.au (Definition of Flying: One must merely throw themselves at the ground and miss)
Subject: Virtually Yours (Short Story)
Organization: University of Newcastle, AUSTRALIA
Date: Thu, 12 Nov 1992 04:43:47 GMT

Please note:
I did NOT write this, but am posting it on the author's behalf. If you
wish to contact the author for any reason, please email him at
bloodgor@maria.wustl.edu. Do not reply to the posting account.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Scott English retains all rights to this piece of literature. It may be
redistributed except for profitable uses, unless permission to do so
is aquired from the author.

Warning: Sexually Explicit material contained within.
---------


                       VIRTUALLY YOURS
                       ---------------

        I flicked over to the next article, I hadnt come
across much of interest and was becoming a little removed
from the words on my screen...

        INTERNET NEWS: ALT.ROMANCE(#29101192)
        SUBJECT: Male Chauvinist Pigs
        FROM: JoeshaB@daemon.utexas.edu (Joesha Brotherten)

        Hey all you out there, here is something that you
        probably already know. All males are chauvinist pigs.
        I am sure that this wasn't always the way, but it is
        the way things are now. And it stinks. I wish they
        would just grow up.

        Joesha



        I almost skipped the article when I glimpsed the subject, but
decided to give it a second chance and read it through. For some
reason it caught my attention. Perhaps my male ego was in
disagreement with the words that crossed my screen. My mind started
to wonder what would lead someone to write something like this.
Probably a relationship gone abruptly sour, her guy probably screwed
around on her or something like that. Still. It was interesting.

        I accessed the menu and within a second I was out of the news
board, writing an email message to Joesha.

        TO: JoeshaB@daemon.utexas.edu
        SUBJECT: Re: Male Chauvinist Pigs
        FROM: JamesW@burke.murdoch.edu.au (James Wright)

        G'day Joesha,
        I read your post in Alt.Romance. It intrigued me. I
        have to disagree with you. I kinda like to think that
        males aren't chauvinist pigs because they're male but
        because they can get away with it. Not all of us want to
        be chauvinists either... You just have to find one of us.

        Sorry I didn't mean to end up sounding preachy. I hope that
        everything works out well for you.

        Virtually Yours,
        James



        I reread what I had written to Joesha. I decided that it
would suit my purposes well. I withdrew from the screen and thought
about the situation. With any luck, I would have email from Joesha
tomorrow.

        I reached over and unplugged the datajack from my deck.
Suddenly the world as I saw it faded and went dim. I felt a small
sensation of dizziness. Leaving the net always did that to me. I sat
still and waited for my vision to return to me. I reached over and
took the glass of beer. For a moment I reflected on how far technology
had brought us. In the letter I wrote to Joesha I hadn't touched the
keyboard once. In fact, my deck didn't have a keyboard. The words
formed as I thought them. So much quicker.


        The next day she did write back. As I knew that she would.
She said she had appreciated my thoughts, and that she would care
to hear more about them if I wanted to tell her. I remember how I
had smiled to myself then. It was easier then I had expected.

        After about 3 weeks of daily mailing, of slow planning and
baiting I played one of my cards. I sent her mail asking her to meet
me in the lobby of Crystal Vision Hotel. Crystal Vision what was known
as a virtual building. In it, you existed as you did in real life. You
walked around the building, without moving a muscle. It was like a
realistic version of Television. So much quicker to talk to someone, and
it would be a chance to finally meet Joesha. The next day she agreed, we
were in business, and she was walking deeper into my web.

        I like Crystal Vision. It has class. Real class. The lobby is
completely floored in marbled Jade. Spread out on this periodically are
the soft furs of bears, lions and other exotic and long extinct animals.
In the centre of the large room is a ring of old Renaissance style wooden
chairs with padded velvet in their seats, around a white stone fountain
of a little boy with wings carrying a beautiful naked woman into the
sky.

        When I arrived to meet Joesha, the building was fairly quiet. It
was a Wednesday in United States... and the Crystal Vision Hotel
was often quietest on Wednesdays. My icon was that of a tall man,
with dark hair, and cool blue eyes. Around me I wore a large cape. I
looked like something out of a Hollywood Dracula movie for the distance.
But close up, I was much different. Besides, Dracula was a poor
example of his species.

        I had recreated a pair of roses earlier before I had left my
deck. I had created them perfectly from a diagram that I had scanned in
from an old druidic textbook I owned. The roses had green, barbed stems
with blood red petals. They were entwined together, with only their heads
apart. They should do the trick well.

        The first time I laid my eyes on her, I knew it was Joesha.
For weeks now I had been analysing her personality, trying to
understand what made her tick, trying to get inside her. Now, now that
we were meeting this exploration of her character would take on new
heights. From seeing her Icon, the way she moved, her physical traits
I would indeed be able to discover even more about her.

        She wore a red flowing gown that sparkled under the chandeliered
lights of the lobby. Her skin was deep and tanned, and complemented her
blonde hair completely. There was something about blonde hair and
a tanned complexion that always turned me on. Her smile stood out from
her face, almost outdoing her bright red dress and when my eyes drifted
up from her mouth they came to the sparkling brown eyes that looked
innocent but experienced. Intriguing.

        I walked over to her and introduced myself, taking her hand
gently and kissing it but momentarily. I longed to caress her skin, to
have her now, but I would wait. My stalking wasnt yet complete. I had to
know everything.

        She smiled at me. It was enough to send shivers through any
mortal man. I was suprised that anyone would want to break up with
this woman. I nearly smirked upon the thought that she was mine, even
though she did not yet know it.

        I organised a room with the desk clerk, and we were taken
there by the bellboy. The style of room we were given, I was well
familiar with. It's familiarity gave me a little courage, it was
as if I felt at home here. Warm. I had been here before. Many times.

        I brought Joesha a chair, and offered her a drink. Soon
we were in the friendly but nervous conversation that they always
had the first time that we met. Meeting people for the first time
does something to you. I can't remember feeling nervous though, I
have greater needs. We covered all the topics that we had covered
in our mailings. I understood this, it was safe territory for her.
Nothing new. Not yet. As the night drew on I stated that it was
getting late and that I really had to be going. She agreed, and said
that it had been nice meeting me. I returned the compliment and asked
if she would meet me again the next night. She said yes. We parted, and
I immediately faced out of the net. I had much planning to do.

        Over the next week we met each other every night and talked
for hours on end. I began to gently push her into the unknown, and in
the direction that I wanted her to travel. She didnt resist, as some
others had, but of course she was unawares to my goals. I began
manipulating her, testing her devotion and reliance on me. One night
I did not show up on time, and the next I did not show at all. I could
tell from her reactions that she was falling for me. Now was the time.

        On our next meeting she was again wearing her same dress, and
I was again attired in black. We met and went upstairs. We had become
very familiar and openly friendly toward each other. I would see her
smile as I came in. Yes, she was definately mine.

        Again we talked. This time the conversation took on a slightly
different tone. This time I pushed her in the direction of love and sex.
I knew that it was nervous territory, but it was also on her mind. I
asked her what turned her on, what she found sensual and erotic. She
reacted shyly, embarrased but in the end timidly gave me the answers I
sought. She was leading herself to me, good.

        She looked away suddenly. There was a pause in our conversation,
a rift. I asked her to dance, and she felt releaved to be taken out of
the spotlight. She liked to dance, as I had discovered. Slowly we moved
together, but this time I held her closer, and moved against her. I could
feel myself brushing against her, and she could feel the same, I knew.
I pulled her into a tight embrace and kissed her. Now, it would be so
easy. But that was not my way, I wanted her complete and utter
surrender, then, and only then would I take her.

        Our lips caressed each others, and mutually our mouths opened to the
others. She was already showing signs of giving herself to me. My
tongue ventured slowly forward and found hers. We played with each
other, tongues wrapped up in a game of hide and seek. While in the
background, while she was almost unawares, my hands caressed her body.
They roamed up her thighs to her bottom and then up her back and around
to her breasts where they settled.

        It was then her mind sparked alive, as I knew it would. She
pulled away from the kiss and looked into my eyes. This is where I was
at an advantage. I looked deeply back at her, projecting an image that
she wanted to see. She saw that I loved her completely, that I was hers
and that I would do anything for her. She saw that I was completely
devoted to her, she saw the result of a very complex program that I had
written to enhance my own abilities. And seeing that she gave in to me.

        Joesha took my hand and slid it beneath the neck line of her
dress over her breasts. Her nipples were already hard with excitement.
Her eyes closed and her head tilted back as I gently squeezed her soft
flesh and rubbed her nipple. With my free hand, I slid her dress down
her body and was amused to find that she had nothing underneath. Dear
dear, she had suprised even me, this would be easier then I thought.

        I looked down at her willing, completely nude body. Her breasts
were ample and soft, except for their pinnacles arousal. They drew my
hands to them and I caressed them, with a need to feel her skin under
my hands.

        I could feel the hunger growing.

        My eyes caressed her body downward, until the settled
on her triangle of brown hair that was her sacred garden of pleasure.
She did little to hide it from my enquiring eyes. I could see the lust
in her eyes as an indication that my attentions were turning her on.

        The hunger rose.

        She fumbled through my clothing, removing it and dumping it in
a heap on the floor. Before long her hands had ventured down to grasp
my arousal and was kissing me passionately. As she stroked me her tongue
caressed mine. My hands repeated their journey along her now naked 
thighs to her bottom, up along the great expanse of her back and again
around to her breasts. She was breathing heavily now, as was I. Lust
overswept her. And we fell back onto the bed behind us.

       I had to feed.

        I moved down her body, and gently licked my way up her legs. As
I went further and further upward her legs instinctively started to
spread before me, directing me subconsciously to where she wanted to
feel pleasure. Yes, I was nearly there. Along her thighs, inward to her
most tender flesh. She bucked wildly beneath me. More and louder she
moaned. The great things about these virtual rooms is that sound didnt
carry, an idle thought, as I dove deeper within her. I felt her release
beneath me. I tasted her and smiled. Slowly I looked up into her eyes, and
asked her if she would give herself to me, completely. Hastily she said yes.
Silly girl. Hastily she gave herself away, to me.

        I feed.

        Slowly I move up her body, feeling the surge of power. I am drawing
from her now. It is very subtle, her surrender provides me with a
trickle of what I hunger. Further and further I go until I am laying
atop her. I guide her hand down and place her around me. She guides me
in.... into her doom. It is with great mutual pleasure that I enter her.
We both moan loudly as electricity flows through her. I feel myself
growing more powerful. I feel her coursing through me.

        Together we find a rythm. We rock together, causing great
pleasure within each other. In her erotic pleasure she fails to realise
what is really going on. Higher and higher we climb, making primal sounds
of love. As the temper quickens, she becomes overawed, and begins
experiencing orgasms. I feel her squeezing me, clenching me, gaining
every last pleasure from me. But it is I who really gains. Knowingly
I increase my rythm until she goes wild, she is building up for the
ultimate climax and I am there, waiting to recieve her.

        She screams with pleasure, and I feel her close around me like
a vice. She surrounds me with warmth, pulls me tightly to her, not
getting enough of me. And as pure pleasure sends her into ecstacy her
life force drains. I draw on her sexual energy, lapping up every drop,
drawing it from her, taking what she so hastily gave up to me.
Her smile never leaves her face as she dies. Only at the last moment is
there cold realisation in her baby brown eyes, no longer innocent.

        Her heart stops, her link goes cold. Her icon slowly fades as
her brain ceases to function, and I am left there alone. I am filled
with new life, imbued with her life. I am strong and content. And I
know that she is laying at her terminal somewhere... a lifeless shell.

        After I have come down from my high, I trace back to the address
of her deck and erase all her files regarding me. That day I sleep well.

        Tomorrow night I'll start reading the news again.

Written By Scott English, 1992.


Newsgroups: alt.cyberpunk