Virtual Seduction



Selena could imagine only too well the scenario in which she was participating. After 
all, she was wholly responsible for it. One small, but large breasted, girl was applying 
her wide-open mouth to Selena's own. Another girl, very similar in appearance, if not 
virtually identical, was licking and sucking and chewing her smooth and hairless 
vagina. 

Selena found the taste of saliva and teeth almost sweet, slightly salty, and 
strangely convincing. Her fist and most of her forearm was embedded deep within the 
vagina of a third girl, who differed only in appearance from the other two by virtue of 
the colour of her hair. 

All her eyes could see was the smooth white skin of the girl she 
was kissing, but she knew that the one whose vagina she was so brutally violating had 
canary yellow hair. And, correspondingly, a very hairy canary yellow crotch. 

Selena liked her girls to have hairy crotches. She didn't know why, but the 
combination she somehow liked best in her girls was that they should be short, big 
breasted and with very thick pubic hair. The girls' faces were mostly fairly identical: 
impossibly smooth and blemish-free. Just like her own face. Their straight hair was 
cut level to their chins and coloured, in these cases, yellow, blue and red. The hair 
colour was almost the only thing that could positively distinguish the three girls who 
were so passionately making love to her.

"Do you like it, bitch?" snarled Selena, in that erotic comic book style she'd 
once never believed she'd ever adopt.

"Yes, mistress!" said the yellow-haired girl, who demonstrated her ecstasy by 
cries of joy. She was hot and sticky and remarkably life-like. 

In fact, all the girls were remarkably life-like. Even Selena. She had placed 
many full-length mirrors about the extensive garden where she mostly spent her 
virtual life, so that she could admire herself as she walked, played or made love under 
the steady, unchanging, midday sun. 

As she observed her reflection in a nearby mirror 
set into the trunk of a large oak tree, she saw the image of herself in the passionate 
company of three short voluptuous girls, with skin so ivory smooth and perfect. The 
larger, taller, slim, but massively breasted figure who was naked in the midst of these 
girls was herself. Not involved in the action, but available at a moment's notice, was 
any number of similarly identical girls, with the self-same hairstyle coloured green, 
purple, black, gold or whatever. 

The girl who had been kissing her mouth transferred her attention down to her 
breasts and planted her thick luscious blue lips on their perfect aureate nipples. A 
drool of saliva fell out of her mouth, and rolled in a deliciously erotic flow down the 
lower contours of her huge mammary endowments and gathered as a puddle in her 
navel. 

Selena pulled her forearm out of the yellow-haired girl's cunt, dripping as it 
was with vaginal juices, and placed her lips and mouth on the well-delineated folds of 
her labia. The perfectly proportioned clitoris. The two folds of vaginal lips. The 
vagina itself that was capable of stretching to hold any sized object of approximately 
the right shape and dimensions. As was the almost equally accommodating anus. 

If only real life were like this. Not that this wasn't incredibly realistic. Indeed, 
in terms of taste, feel, smell and sight, it was actually more vivid and more credible 
than reality. But the nature of cyberspace is always to be a more lucid, more 
convincing and more tangible than the real world. And also a lot more 
accommodating to the fantasies that Selena or any other visitor to cyberspace might 
have. 

In the real world, of slow rather than accelerated time, of mundane rather than 
hyper real sensation, of aches and pains, of people who would not obey her every 
whim as her short, large breasted girls would do, in that world, Selena was a middle-
aged, maybe even past middle-aged, woman, of slightly frumpish appearance, who 
had given up dying her hair, and whose skin showed only too well the creases of age, 
and whose waist-line was forever disobedient to her dieting plans. 

It was also true that she was a successful scientist, in the unfashionable field of 
organic chemistry. And blessed by an equally successful marriage, at least in terms of 
durability. And she earned an income that was the envy of both her peers and her own 
fat and balding husband. But in cyberspace she was a large breasted lesbian 
nymphomaniac. 

And maybe this image of herself that had evolved over many years of logging 
in to the virtual world and which she had created for her own pleasure, maybe this 
image was the real Selena that was hidden behind the thick lens of her glasses and her 
never very flattering clothes. Maybe she was meant to have enormous breasts, a slim 
waist, full thighs, and legs that went on forever. Rather, that is, than to have been a 
plump, grey-haired, middle-aged woman with several moles scattered on her face that 
grew larger at the same rate as they lost their youthful colour. 

Which one was the real 
Selena? Chemistry department Selena? Or Sapphic sex goddess Selena? Selena was an 
expert in chemistry, not metaphysics. She had no answer to questions like that at all.

Selena paused in her lovemaking, and her three lovers paused also, but 
continued to stroke, kiss and cuddle her in the way she liked so much. Her personal 
avatars were so perfect. They matched her mood exactly and without question. 
Climaxing when she climaxed. Relaxing when she relaxed. Never complaining. 
Always ready and willing. Always there. But at this point the capacity of their 
Artificial Intelligence reached its limit. There was never any conversation possible 
beyond that of Selena's sexual desire and their own need to satisfy it. They had no 
experience upon which they could reminisce. No knowledge on which to pursue a 
conversation. And their roles were entirely circumscribed by her original intentions 
when she selected their avatar specification parameters.

So, she was delighted to see Angela, her closest friend in cyberspace, appear in 
her garden. Angela was not a virtual creation, except in the sense that the full-
breasted, long-legged Selena was a virtual creation. Selena had no idea what the real 
Angela was like. No more than Angela knew about Selena's successful career in 
academia. The Angela that Selena knew was very slender, almost breastless, smooth-
skinned, with a bare vagina and long straight black hair that came down to her 
buttocks. A contrast indeed to Selena's much more voluptuous virtual identity. And 
she tasted so very sweet. Her vagina, her small nipples, the ream of her anus, was so 
pleasant and sweet to the tongue. Quite unlike the rich smells and tastes with which 
Selena flavoured her body. 

Angela was different from a pre-programmed avatar not only by virtue of her 
appearance. As a real person with her own volition she was able to express herself in 
ways that were so much her own and not those of her designer. She had her own 
desires, her own sexual tastes, her own perversions, quite unlike Selena's and 
somewhat unpredictable. Although she could do what she liked with her own 
creations, Selena needed to be much more sensitive with Angela. If Angela wanted 
fisting then Selena could fist her. But if Angela were not in the mood for that, then 
Selena would have to find other ways to entertain. 

And it wasn't only sexually that Selena and Angela could engage with each 
other, though of course this was the original excuse that had brought the two together. 
They could also chat and discuss the world and their worries. They could just stroll 
together, hand in hand, either through Selena's virtual world of gardens, forests and 
grassland, or, when Selena exchanged a visit, in Angela's virtual world of mediaeval 
castles and eighteenth century manors. It was on those visits that Selena probably got 
to find out most about her cyber lover. 

The fact that they shared Sapphic fantasies was given. After all, it was in a 
Sapphic chat room that the two had first met. This particular chat room, with the 
cheesy name of 'Women Who Love Women', was actually quite tastefully done. 
Beautiful velvet curtains and upholstery, huge portraits of women making love to 
other women, comfortable leather and velour sofas and divans, and, in all this, a 
milling group of women, or what Selena hoped were women, in their fantasy virtual 
avatars looking either for as real a love as they could find in cyberspace or just for 
friendly company. 

At first, Selena hadn't been that attracted to Angela. She had no real taste for 
slim or small-breasted women, but they got to chat by the huge fireplace, just below a 
portrait of three women enjoying rather extreme sex, and soon found that they had 
more in common with each other than they had with the other women whose company 
they shared. A taste in Sapphic sex that, although not necessarily sadistic, was still 
quite refined and cruel. And both of them were pleased that here they were in a world 
where they could indulge in their sexual fantasies, even to the most extreme prejudice, 
and it would have no real deleterious consequences. 

The nature of Angela's own fantasies was very clear in the choice of sexual 
avatars that populated her virtual world.  These were no nudists, unlike Angela who 
never wore a scrap of clothing on her virtual body. They dressed in the tightest latex 
and leather; often with their shaven vaginas or their stern pointed breasts squeezed 
through the straps and constraints, with the highest stiletto heels at the end of the 
longest attenuated curved legs. And what Angela particularly liked was for her 
avatars, when not serving a specific purpose, to be tied up or chained or otherwise 
constrained in ways where they showed the pain and suffering which they could feel 
only as distinctly as the pleasure they got when Angela would choose to make love to 
any of them. 

Much as Selena enjoyed her time with Angela, her own tastes were rather 
less dark and disturbing. They might make love together in either Selena's virtual 
world or Angela's, or even in one of the many other virtual worlds that were freely 
available in cyberspace, but Selena always preferred to return to the world of her own 
creation. Angela's obsessions were just a little too dark and dangerous for Selena's 
taste. Just as Angela found Angela's world a little too kitsch and Disney-like.

As Angela strode towards Selena across the lawn, three of Selena's avatars 
who were not engaged in pleasuring their mistress made their way to approach her and 
offer her the kind of loving they had learnt that she enjoyed. At that moment, Angela 
wasn't interested in sex as such, but she put her arms around two of them, one with 
purple and the other with jet-black hair. Selena was pleased to see her friend, but it 
wasn't totally a surprise. It wasn't necessarily that easy to ensure that both she and 
Angela were on-line at the same time, so she kept a diary of the best times when 
Angela was likely to log on, so that they had a better chance of meeting up. 

Angela would never have been as organised as that herself. She tended to drop in 
unexpectedly at any time, and sometimes logged off abruptly when something or other 
reminded her that she should be doing something in the real world. And when that 
happened, her avatar simply vanished without warning. Sometimes mid-sentence. 
Selena suspected that in the real world, Angela did not have the same level of 
responsibilities and duties as she did.

"I've just seen that prudish Delia again!" sniffed Angela, as always launching 
into the subject of her discussion without a preamble. "She was sniffing around the 
chat room. And when I tried to sniff her tight little cunt, she just fucking brushed me 
off. God! I hate that stiff little cow! But I did get an invite to her home site and what's 
more, Selena..."

"Yes?" wondered Selena, as Angela paused for dramatic effect, while the 
black-haired avatar desultorily stroked her smooth vagina.

"I found out what Delia is in the real world. You'd never believe. Not in a 
million years."

Selena had to be careful here. She didn't want her suppositions to somehow 
hint at what she was in the real world. She sensed that Angela would be less than 
impressed to find that her beloved Selena was a rather busy head of department in one 
of the less romantic universities of the world. Not that she had any idea whether 
Angela's own real life role was any more glamorous. 

"I could never guess, Angela. What is it?"

"She's only a fucking nun! So, in the real world she's some kind of fucking 
virgin. What do you think? Do you think she's a cyber-virgin too?"

"I'm not sure that it's the same thing. You aren't physically altered by sex in 
cyberspace."

"That might be so, but it's often much better here than the real world. I can tell 
you! I was talking to Delia. And I got to ask why she was so reluctant to have sex. 
You know, why else do you go to a dyke chat room? And she confessed that she 
didn't want to because she was a nun. And that she'd made her vows. And that she 
wasn't going to have sex in cyberspace any more than in real space. Fuck! What a 
hypocrite! If she's so fucking virtuous, what's she doing going into places like 
'Women Who Love Women'? And I'm told she's been seen in 'Radclyffe Hall' and 
'Femme Fte' as well! So you can't say she's just stumbled in by chance."

"Not very likely," agreed Selena, who recalled the physical manifestation of 
many of the other avatars in the Sapphic chat rooms. Some were extraordinarily 
strange. The appearances that she and Angela had adopted were relatively modest 
compared to the women with penises, the women with impossibly large breasts and 
the women who resembled furry animals. However, not all were outlandish, and 
several were relatively normal, although their skin was necessarily smooth and 
immaculate. Delia's avatar wasn't that much out of the ordinary. She'd even chosen to 
wear clothes. There was a hint of Delia's vocation, though, in her appearance. She had 
long ringlets of golden hair that cascaded down to her waist and long white flowing 
robes to her ankle. Slim, tall and very pretty. Just like some kind of angel. All she 
needed were some wings and she'd be properly appointed.

"Well, anyway, Selena, I got an invite to Delia's home site. Her own little love 
nest. And she's almost certainly there now. So, let's go. Come on."

"What? Where?"

"To Delia's site. It's called, (you won't believe it!), 'Delia's Home'. How naff 
can you get?"

Selena blanched. Her site was originally just called 'Selena's Home' before 
she became more sure of the lie of the land and renamed it 'The Well of Loveliness'. 
"So. Why are we going to Delia's site?"

"Why? To get inside her prissy little panties. What do you think?" sniffed 
Angela. "If that coy little cow thinks she can keep me away that easily she's going to 
find out differently."

Selena sighed. Angela was incorrigible. When she got an idea in her head, 
she'd obsess about it for ages. She'd often gone on about Delia. Selena had met the 
woman a few times, but she wasn't the sort of woman she usually went for. She didn't 
really have the patience for resistance. And anyway, she preferred to see the wares 
fully displayed, rather than hidden under gowns and cloaks. But Selena remembered 
Angela's other obsessions. The woman whose avatar resembled some kind of squirrel 
with a correspondingly huge bushy tail. The woman with all those strange tattoos and 
chains. The couple of girls who went around together dressed as nurses. This 
obsession with Delia was no different. But Selena worried about the real woman 
behind the virtual image. Did Angela really believe that the real Delia, who might 
even be known as Delia in real life, didn't have feelings and emotions? More likely 
though, Angela was fully aware of this and actually rather relished the idea of causing 
damage that would extend beyond cyberspace's altogether too perfect sphere.

The journey to Delia's home site was via the navigation portal that always 
discreetly followed Selena around her own site. She had chosen the skin of a blue 
twentieth century telephone kiosk: one of the more commonly selected choices, 
although Selena had no idea of its significance. Angela selected a destination address 
which she carried as a bookmark inscribed on the back of her hand, and when the two 
of them exited the door of the navigation portal, they were in a world which from the 
first few glances appeared to be quite appropriate for what they knew of the woman.

Angela spun around, her slender girlish figure twirling almost innocently in 
the brilliance of the bright sun that shone on the well-tended lawns. "This place is a 
bit like yours, Selena sweetest!" she exclaimed.

"It's got more of a religious theme, though," remarked Selena, though 
recognising that there was indeed a similarity in the taste for gardens, trees and lawns. 
But then garden settings were statistically amongst the most commonly chosen site 
designs in cyberspace. She'd visited quite a few others like this, but not ones with so 
much marble statuary of the Blessed Virgin Mary and so empty of anthropomorphic 
avatars. There were a few frolicking lambs and swooping birds in the landscape. 
Fluffy clouds drifted overhead. There were fountains and flowerbeds and garden 
benches and other features. Selena suspected that Delia was probably a keen gardener 
in real life.

"Ooh! Can you hear that?" laughed Angela wandering over to one of the pious 
statues of the Virgin Mary. "There's some kind of tune coming from it."

"Oh yes! It's 'Miserere' by Allegri, I think."

"You what? I've never heard of that group before."

Selena didn't elaborate. She guessed that Angela might actually rather despise 
people with too much culture. "All these statues have tunes coming from them!" she 
commented, noting silently the Bach cantatas, the vocal works of Pergolesi, Palestrina 
and Prt, and other devotional music emanating from the gathered marble figures.

"Nothing decent though. Nothing you could dance to," Angela complained. 
"Anyhow, I can't see any sign of Delia here. She might be in that little cottage there. 
What do you think?"

Selena nodded. The cottage was the only building in the landscape. Quite 
small and compact, with a puff of smoke emerging from the chimney above the 
thatched roof, and pebbledash around the pretty little windows. However, the cottage 
was empty when the two women got there. This was odd in a way, because most home 
sites were populated by the avatars of companions, servants or lovers. Only lambs and 
garden birds appeared to inhabit Delia's site.

"You'd have thought Delia'd have some angels or the like, wouldn't you?" 
Angela commented.

"Like cherubim and seraphim!" laughed Selena.

"Yeah! Those too!" Angela agreed. "This is one weird place. And hey! Would 
you believe it! The bitch has got shrines and altars all over the place. Just like a 
church or something. And here's a bible. And here's a kind of prayer book. And all 
those pictures. Rather a lot more Virgin Mary than Jesus Christ. 'Cept for him on the 
cross there. That's one real wicked image. I got one of my avatars to pose like that for 
a week. It looked really convincing. Blood and everything!"

Selena was rather less keen than Angela on these more extreme fantasies. 
"You wouldn't think Delia was the sort to go to lesbian chat rooms, would you?"

"I dunno. Some kind of repressed shit. You know. These nuns must be real 
weird to begin with. No sex or anything. And wearing those funny black outfits. I bet 
this Delia's just always wanted to fuck women in real life and just been too scared to 
do anything till she gets to be anonymous in cyberspace. Anyway, in real life, she's 
probably an ugly cow. No one, male or female, would probably want to touch her with 
anything shorter than a barge pole. And she spends all day worshipping the Virgin 
Mary. Well, it's only natural you'd want a taste of what's on offer."

Selena was sure that Angela was right, but she was uncomfortable talking 
about the real world. She probably wouldn't like Angela if she ever met her outside 
cyberspace. Not that it was very likely. It could be she was a mining engineer on the 
Moon. Or a shop assistant in Wellington. Or a customer services clerk in Denver. But 
she was sure she wouldn't be the sort to hang about with Chemistry professors. 

"At least Delia's got a bed!" she said, jumping onto the huge mattress just by 
the window and with a view on the garden and a distant orchard. "And a pretty firm 
one, too!"

"It needs to be fucking firm when you're on it!" laughed Angela, crawling 
onto the bed: a pale, slender, sinuous figure. "The size of your fucking boobs!" 

She placed a hand on Selena's shoulder and her other cupped one of Selena's breasts while 
her lips pursed on Selena's nipple. The sensation rippled through Selena's body, 
heightened as always by the preset parameters, electrifying her nerves and making her 
gasp. However, unlike the avatars of her own creation, Angela's avatar had a mind of 
her own. It was always so much more delicious to have Angela make love to her, 
rather than an avatar. You never quite knew what she was going to do.

And in this case, Angela was feeling a little brutal. She bit quite hard on 
Selena's huge nipple, which would nearly have choked a corporeal mouth, while her 
hand first stroked, then fingered and, so soon, fisted her large welcoming vagina. 

However, Selena was not a sub by nature, although she quite enjoyed the femme role. 
She liked to give quite as much as she liked to take. In real life, of course, she mostly 
just took when her husband ever remembered that a woman had needs too which had 
to be satisfied. Which wasn't very often. But in cyberspace, as now, Selena 
reciprocated Angela's passion with as much force as her cyber lover. Her fingers 
gripped the inside of Angela's smooth vagina, so wet and sticky inside, and already 
giving off that strange musky perfume that her lover preferred around her groin. Her 
thumb slid into Angela's anus, which easily opened to take the violation, and was just 
as slippery and wet as her cunt, with none of that slightly unpleasant smell that Selena 
associated with her few real-life anal intrusions. She licked Selena's body from her 
long neck to her smooth vagina travelling over the flat terrain of her chest, the nipples 
the merest mounds on her childlike body. 

All the while, she could feel Angela's tongue, teeth and fingers caress, cajole 
and worry her own virtual flesh. Tugging and pulling at her huge nipples. Soaking her 
clitoris in saliva. Probing deep inside her vagina. She knew that Angela had the whole 
of her fist inside her cunt. This was her friend's favourite activity, and she was glad 
that her avatar had the ability to take the strain, whilst the sensation of her pleasuring 
was transmitted risk-free to her corporeal senses. Her vagina was bubbling with liquid 
passion, which dripped down the inside of her large thighs and eased Angela's digital 
penetration. She twisted around to face Angela, whose perfect, blemish-free 
expression beamed at her, lost in the ecstasy of their lovemaking. At that moment, she 
felt a flush of emotion, almost of love, but she knew better than to express this to 
Angela. Her virtual lover was not someone who could be described as being at all 
romantic. In fact, she mostly sneered at any expression of passion that was not for 
pure physical gratification.

But that didn't prevent her from bursting out in cries of ecstasy that thankfully 
would not be audible to anyone near her in the real world. But they were certainly 
loud enough to anyone in the virtual world to hear, and they were mingled with 
Angela's own rather less full-throated and slightly wheezy cries of passion. And the 
vocal accompaniment reinforced the passion and pushed the two of them to liquid 
ecstasy, wet and sticky and urgent, shivering and trembling with the heightened, 
sharpened sensitivity of their virtual selves, somehow more real than reality itself.

And then Selena became aware that she and Angela were no longer the only 
ones in Delia's cottage. At first, Selena thought it was one of her avatars. Or even one 
of Angela's. But as her vision recovered from her passion, and the bits and bytes 
reorganised themselves with clarity, she could see that it was Delia, standing rather 
nervously by a leather armchair, her long golden tresses flowing down over her white 
gown, and a face expressive of so much where in cyberspace a face normally 
expressed so little. 

Angela also became aware of Delia's presence, but she kept a fist inside 
Selena's vagina, and placed her weight on her elbow, as she turned round to face the 
mistress of the home site they had entered.

"What are you doing here?" Delia asked, her dialect-free voice expressing all 
too well as complicated a set of emotions as those on her face.

"What does it look like, Delia?" smiled Angela. "We took advantage of your 
kind invitation and came to visit your home site."

"And very nice it is too!" agreed Selena, putting a comforting arm around 
Angela's sharp angular shoulders. "A very pious tribute. I just love the music."

"That's not the point," Delia struggled to say. "It's not that you've visited my 
site. And, yes, when I gave Angela my address, I was quite happy for her to visit. And 
you too, Selena. It's what you're doing here. This is my home site. I didn't expect you 
to desecrate it with your... your... your..."

"'Fucking'?" Angela remarked. "Is that what you're trying to say, Delia? 
'Fucking'. Or is it beyond your tight-assed prudishness to use words like that? I've 
been 'fisting' Delia's 'cunt'. And it's been fucking great! If there's nothing I don't 
like more, it's fucking. Do you want to join in? Is that what you want to do?"

"Mary Mother of God! What do you think I am? I didn't ask you over here so 
that you could insult my site. I know it's not very professional. And I'm sure it's not 
wholly to your taste. But I didn't expect you to come here and behave in such a... 
such a... disrespectful manner."

"'Disrespectful'? You hear that, Selena?"

"Yes. I heard it."

"If it's so fucking disrespectful two women making love with each other. 
Enjoying each other's company. Expressing the love they feel for each other." Angela 
kissed Selena tenderly on her cheek. "If it's such a 'disrespectful' thing, then why do 
you visit dyke chat rooms? What do you think dykes do when they're not chatting? 
Praising the lord? Singing hymns? Reading the fucking bible?"

"Really!" exclaimed Delia. "This is too much! I can't allow you to visit my 
site and behave like this. I'll just have to ask you to leave and I'll revoke your visiting 
rights. This isn't right. You shouldn't come into my site and talk to me like this and 
force me to question my values."

"But, Delia," remarked Selena, in a soft reassuring tone, "you surely 
understand that when you visit a lesbian chat room that you are advertising yourself as 
sort of being available to other women. That's what they're there for. This may not be 
what you've consciously asked for, but it must be what you secretly want. After all, 
why do you visit lesbian chat rooms?"

"Yeah, why?" chipped in Angela. "You some kind of peeking perv, Delia?"

Delia looked a little subdued as she regarded the naked bodies of her two 
visitors. "I don't know why I have to answer questions like that."

"But you do understand that it's a legitimate view," continued Selena who, 
despite herself was rather enjoying the discomfort she was inflicting on Delia. Would 
she have been so bold if she were talking to this nun in the real world? Very unlikely. 
But here in cyberspace, normal rules of etiquette could be so easily circumvented or 
ignored. Anonymity was such a wonderful thing. "You could visit plenty of chat 
rooms. There are very very many that do not concern themselves with lesbians or 
permit lesbians to meet each other. There are many more where women can meet men 
and men can meet women..."

Delia made a face: an expression that was curiously almost mirrored by the 
intensity of its disgust and aversion by that on Angela's face. Not for the first time, 
Selena felt sure that the Angela in the real world was just as much a lesbian as the 
Angela in cyberspace. Delia shook her head. "I couldn't go there. Not as a nun. My 
vows."

"What fucking difference is there in fucking women rather than men?" Angela 
spat out. "Your vows aren't that fucking gender-specific are they?"

Selena chose to ignore Angela's outburst. "But Delia. That's not the point. 
There are many chat rooms that have nothing to do with sex." Selena knew this was 
true. She'd even visited a few. But they weren't as popular as the sex or erotic chat 
rooms. And, as far as she was concerned, not nearly as much fun. And when she went 
to a chemistry or pedagogical chat room she had to select an avatar that wasn't as 
sexually explicit or freakish as the one she normally adopted. That would just be 
inappropriate. "You could have chosen to visit a religious chat room. Or a musical 
one. Or one for nuns. But you choose to visit lesbian chat rooms..."

"Yeah," agreed Angela. "Not just 'Women Who Love Women'. I've heard 
about the other ones."

"The other ones?" gasped Delia, with an expression akin to fright. 

"Yeah, the others. You know the ones I mean."

"Honestly, I've only been to that one and 'Sapphic Literature' and..."

"And 'Radclyffe Hall' and 'Femme Fte' and God knows what else! You 
can't shit us, Delia. You're a fucking whore for chat rooms!"

At this, Delia suddenly burst into tears. She leaned back against the armchair, 
supporting her weight by the length of her arm, while her face fractured into a look of 
total misery. This sight fascinated Selena. She'd never seen an avatar cry before. Well, 
not one that was guided by Real rather than Artificial Intelligence. When Angela's 
latex-dressed avatars burst into tears, Selena couldn't really feel sorry for them. They 
only existed for Angela's pleasure. And if suffering was part of her pleasure, then so 
be it. But here was Delia, crying and weeping in cyberspace. 

Selena stood up and strode over to Delia. She put her arm around Delia's 
shoulder and let her tears drip onto her still hot and sweaty flesh. A lachrymal trickle 
made its way down her chest and flowed over the massively contorted contours of her 
bosom. It felt warm and strangely pleasant. But Selena wasn't just comforting Delia 
for the benefit of feeling the trickle of her tears on her flesh. She was also genuinely 
anxious to console her.

"Lay off, Angela!" Selena admonished her cyber lover. "You can see that 
Delia's upset."

Delia sobbed. "I guess you're right. I have been to other lesbian chat rooms. 
And I've watched the films. And watched other women. But honestly, I just haven't... 
I thought, it's one thing to watch and another thing to..."

"Don't worry, Delia," said Selena softly. "We've all had to start somewhere. It 
wasn't easy for me to begin with, you know." She looked at Angela whom she could 
see was about to contradict her, but she frowned at her to indicate that she should be 
silent. "But after a while, the watching isn't enough. Nor is the flirting. Then it's time 
to follow your feelings. And as you know, in cyberspace nobody can hear you scream 
in pleasure. It's all totally free of consequence. And therefore it's free of guilt."

"More's the pity!" Angela mumbled.

Delia put her head on Selena's shoulder. Clearly she was enjoying the 
heightened feelings that were available in the virtual world. Just as Selena could feel 
the enhanced warmth and passion of Delia's firm soft body rather better than had they 
met in reality. Who was to know what the real Delia was like? Nuns weren't 
necessarily pretty, but her avatar certainly was. And she was pleased to see Delia's 
resistance dissolve so very quickly as she slowly undressed the woman under 
Angela's prurient gaze. She watched her friend finger herself, her crotch already 
dripping with the juice of her earlier passion, while she let the gown fall off Delia's 
body to drop gently onto the thick rug. 

Delia was wearing no underwear, but in cyberspace this was the 
sort of detail that often didn't occur to people when they were 
designing their avatars. Especially when they weren't expecting to take their clothes 
off very often. But Selena wasn't convinced that in Delia's case this was simply to do 
with forgetfulness as Delia had taken some care in other aspects of her body design. 
No exaggerated contours like Selena's own, but rather the soft delicate lines of a 
Victorian nude. She had clearly enjoyed some pleasure in planning her body design. 
But just as clearly had no further agenda to pursue in taking the design to the extremes 
that Angela and Selena had with their bodies.

Selena pressed her lips on Delia's lips, which opened quite unresistingly but 
nervously, uncertain as to how wide she should open her jaws, while Selena's tongue 
gained access and slid across the perfect white ivories of her virtual teeth. Selena was 
almost disappointed to discover that Delia's body had the default smells and tastes of 
avatar design: very much like the real thing but heightened ever so slightly and also a 
little too pure. Not like Angela and Selena, who'd manipulated so many of their tastes 
and smells to fit the fantasies and desires they wanted to project. But Delia was quite 
innocent of the further refinements available to her.

Delia responded by running her hands down Selena's voluptuous frame, both 
wanting to, and frightened to, investigate Selena's crotch; but happy to explore 
Selena's nipples and breasts. Selena was delighted that Delia had so quickly cracked, 
but then it had almost certainly been something like this she'd been hoping for when 
she'd granted Angela permission to enter her site. And it was Angela now, seeing that 
all was going well, who appeared behind Delia and began licking her neck and 
shoulders with that oh! so flexible tongue of hers. Delia gasped with delight. And it 
was with even more delight she let the two friends guide her back onto her own bed, 
so firm and comfortable and large, and lay beside her, busy keeping her senses 
clouded with kisses, cuddles and caresses.

And it was Angela who first breached the crotch. Delia had already been 
emboldened by the two women's directions to run the palm of her hand over their 
crotches, so smooth and hot, and even tweaked the clitoris, with a sense of wonder 
and nervousness, while guided by Selena's own hand. Selena loved the feel of fingers 
on her clitoris, and Delia's were deliciously long and slender. If only her husband had 
ever shown as much attention to her real clitoris as her cyber lovers did to her virtual 
one. But Delia was clearly somewhat alarmed by the reciprocation, as Angela's 
tongue and fingers explored the contours and shape of Delia's own bare crotch. Selena 
wondered whether Delia had left her crotch bare because it was the default for the 
Victorian nude model that she had adopted. Or whether, like Angela and herself, she 
rather liked the sensitivity of a perfectly hairless vagina. Either way, her initial 
response to Angela's attentions was to sit up straight and pull herself away from 
Angela's grasp. 

"This isn't right. This is a step too far. This is not only contravening my vows, 
but is also contravening the natural law of relations. Can the Lord God forgive me?"

Selena was startled by Delia's sudden change. She was also worried that Delia 
might suddenly choose to disconnect from cyberspace and at the same time throw 
Angela and her out of her site. This could be very disconcerting. She had several times 
been dumped in this very abrupt way, suddenly dropping into her default home site 
with none of the comforting intermediaries as a telephone kiosk portal. This was one 
of the hazards of cyber-seduction. If the other person changed her mind, it was much 
easier to disengage than in the real world. It took some skill to prevent this happening.

However, Angela had just that skill. Whatever she thought of Delia, she would 
be damned if she wasn't going to get what she thought were her just deserts after all 
the energy she'd put in to this endeavour.

"You have a very beautiful clitoris, you know," Angela said kindly, turning her 
face towards Delia, smiling in such a sweet angelic way that no one would ever 
suspect the way she maltreated her avatars. "My desire for you just got to be too 
much. I should have asked first. In my selfishness I was thinking only of my desire 
and not yours. Have I your permission to at least touch your clitoris?"

Delia relented, as Angela knew she would. "Just touch it. Nothing else. And 
then I really must be going. It must surely be time for matins."

'Matins'? Selena wondered in which time zone the real Delia must be. She 
watched as Angela returned to her duties. Her tongue lashed and inveigled itself on 
Delia's labia and clitoris. And soon Selena's lips and tongue were there too. And soon 
their fingers were in. And pushing. And stroking. And scratching. And all the while, 
as more and more barriers were broken, Selena wondered whether Delia would realise 
how far she was being taken. But clearly passion was getting a hold of her. She was 
slippery and sweaty and sticky, as the two lovers probed and insinuated and lubricated 
and incited her. 

And not just in the bed. As the passion took hold, they moved about the room. 
They made love on the rug. On the sofa. In the bathroom. In the kitchen. Under a 
portrait of the Virgin Mary who looked down on the three lovers with her quiet gaze 
of spiritual peace. Angela studied the picture, while Delia licked the smoothness of 
her chest and Selena's fist pushed deeper into her anus.

"That Mary bitch set a piss poor example didn't she?"

Delia paused in her licking, while Selena's other hand pinched the labial folds 
of her crotch. "What do you mean? About the Blessed Virgin?"

Angela looked at Delia pityingly. She was about to pursue her argument 
further, as she'd often done when she had argued with Selena about anything which in 
any way differed from her view of the world, but Selena could see that this wouldn't 
be a very good time to push the issue further. Selena still wasn't done. And in any 
case, she wanted to see whether she'd be able to persuade Delia to open her arse as 
wide as she had already done her vagina.

"The Blessed Virgin Mary gives help and succour to those who need it," 
Selena argued. "Just as you do, Angela, in your own very different way."

Angela nodded. This was the sort of answer she liked. "Yeah," she said to 
Selena, kissing her affectionately on her cheek. "I guess in this world we're like Gods, 
aren't we? We can do what we like. And we can enjoy ourselves however we choose."

And just like Gods, Selena thought to herself, as she put her lips on one of 
Delia's pale pink nipples, we have responsibilities and duties to our creations and the 
others who inhabit this world. She glanced at Angela with a slight frown. Virtual 
space might be empowering, but it still doesn't absolve us of our moral and ethical 
liability. 








