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Article 5 of 37

Subject:      Virtual Reality (Story by Rajah Dodger, Incomplete)
From:         Rajah Dodger <rdodger@mailmasher.com>
Date:         1997/01/14
Message-Id:   <199701142305.PAA21119@mailmasher.com>
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Newsgroups:   alt.sex.stories

Virtual Reality, by Rajah Dodger

*** Prologue ***

     Ken and Carol had been seeing each other for a few months.
Their relationship was generally fine, they liked the same kinds
of music, managed to agree on places to eat, and both loved
dancing.  But something had gone flat between them.  Their
intimate sessions didn't seem to have the same spark, and lately
Carol's sense of humor had just vanished.

     One day Carol was having lunch with her boss when he started
talking about "virtual reality". Apparently this wasn't just
something that computer nerds talked about any more.  Her boss
had visited a place where they had a working VR setup.  "Do you
remember the episodde of Mad About You," he told her while they
worked through a large Caesar salad, "where Paul Reiser wound up
with Christie Brinkley and his wife got Andre Agassi?"  Carol
wasn't much of a TV watcher, but she did gather that both she and
Ken could set up their own universe together, and that sounded
intriguing.

     Carol called the number her boss gave her, and spoke with
the secretary.  She was surprised at the cost -- the secretary
quoted her $120 per person -- and was annoyed that the company
didn't have credit cards set up yet so she would have to bring
cash.  The secretary also told her that there would be some
medical and physical tests required for software calibration and
to satisfy their insurance company.  Carol wondered about that,
then dismissed the thought.

     The couple had an early dinner after work, where they talked
and jointly wondered about what they were in for.  After dinner,
they drove to the location Carol had been given.  It was a
darkened office building on the east side of downtown, one of the
casualties of the economic bust.  They parked in the covered lot,
went inside, and signed in at the security desk.  The guard
pointed them to the right bank of elevators and they went on up
to the 17th floor.

*** Interlude ***

     The guard at the security desk picked up the phone and
pressed some buttons.  "They're here," he said, and waited for a
reply.  After a time, he said "Okay" and hung up the phone.  He
took the guest log, removed the page bearing Ken and Carol's
names, and replaced it with another log sheet.  After checking
the original and writing something down, he folded it in thirds
and slipped into his jacket pocket.  He picked up the phone again
and dialed a number.  "Hello, George?  This is Wally at 515 Main.
I've got one you can have.  License plate Y45-EKE in the covered
lot.  The usual."  He paused, and went on "Yeah, well, business
is slower than we figured, what can I say.  Call me next week,
we'll do lunch on my tab." With that he hung up the phone, picked
up a magazine, and started to read.

*** The Interview ***

     Ken and Carol knocked on the designated door, and were
ushered into a spartan office.  There was little in the way of
decoration, just two desks, a few chairs, and a table with
electrical equipment, a pressure cuff and medical looking
equipment.  The man and women who greeted them explained that the
actual VR setup was in another suite, but they had to start with
a preliminary screening because some people were hyper-sensitive
to direct stimulation of the sensory cortex and others weren't
emotionally stable enough to deal with a continuously changeable
environment.  "If for some reason you aren't suitable for the VR
environment," they hurried to assure the couple, "we will of
course refund your money."  Carol fumbled in her purse, and came
out with the $250 which the man took and folded into his shirt
pocket.

     The tests were fairly standard.  They took Ken and Carol's
blood pressure and pulse, lookd at their eyes, tapped their
knees, had them remove their shoes and tapped the soles of their
feet to check the reflexes there.  They had each separately do
word associations, and showed them some sort of inkblots on cards
to get their reactions.  The only interesting part of the testing
came when they were given tongue depressors that had been soaked
in something and asked to identify the tastes.

     Finally, the two testers got together in a corner of the
office to check their notes, and came back to tell Carol and Ken
they seemed quite suitable and would be taken to the main room
where the VR environment was set up.  A button was pressed, and
in due course the door opened and two men in suits came in to
escort the couple to the other suite.  They took the elevator
again, going up to the 23rd floor, and went down the hall to
another nondescript door.  This, however, opened into a much more
sumptuous suite.  The carpet was dark blue, and thick, and there
were abstract hangings on the maroon walls.  Carol tried to make
out the details but her eyes wouldn't focus on the paintings.  A
couple of women in white lab coats met them and exchanged a few
words with the escorts.

     This room was set up with some high-walled cubicles, and Ken
and Carol were taken to different areas. Each was interviewed in
depth about their attitudes, likes, dislikes, medical history,
fantasies, living arrangements, and all sorts of odd items.  Then
they were hooked up to something that looked like a lie detector
and asked to describe various smells out of bottles and tastes
(as they had already done).  This part of the procedure was
explained as identifying their general level of sensitivity to
calibrate the software, so a flashlight beam wouldn't seem as
bright as the sun to them.

*** Ken's Account ***

     I awake in an empty office, my head woozy on the desk.
There is an index card in front of me.  It said,

     "Ken -- you passed out during the tests and the VR folks
freaked out.  I've gone to get help so if you wake up, don't go
anywhere."

     I wait for what seems like 10 or 15 minutes; I must have
left my watch at the office.  Just as I'm getting ready to head
out anyway, I hear voices in the hall and the door opens.  A
group of people in blue scubs comes in wheeling a stretcher on
wheels. The woman (nurse?) who is apparently in charge tells me
in a no-nonsense tone to get on the gurney so they can check me
out. She quickly undoes my shirt buttons and slaps patches with
wires connected over my nipples and belly button.  One of the
others tends to a machine which has started to make irregular
beeping noises.

     A wave of dizziness passes over me, and I lay back passively
as they take their readings.  The nurse prods my lower belly, and
I gasp at a sudden intense pain.  "Duodenal," she says to nobody
in particular, and "Versed, medium weight".  Something stings my
arm, and I stir from my strange lassitude enough to call out your
name.  "She'll be in to see you as soon as we have you (mumble),"
the nurse says, her voice trailing off as she unzips my pants.
"Hand here," she barks, and two orderlies appear to grab my pant
legs by the cuffs and drag them off of me.

     The nurse cuts away my underpants and pokes at my testicles.
Her fingers are very smooth and cool, and I can feel my penis
thickening in a detached sort of way.  I start to get up, but
something seems to be holding my shoulders down.  Someone puts a
thick tube in my mouth as they start to move the gurney, and I
suck on it reflexively, taking in air.

     The movement of the gurney sends streams of air over my
naked body, giving me chills as they roll me out into the hall.
I hear Carol's voice and try to talk to her, but I can only
mumble around the tube in my mouth.  The air seems harsh to my
throat, but she strokes my head and places her hand comfortingly
on my belly as we all head into the elevator. "Is he..." she
begins, and the nurse replies "I think we will be in time."  The
elevator jolts upward, and Carol's hand slides from my belly to
my cock, holding it like a stickshift.

     The elevator comes to a jarring halt, and when the doors
open I am rolled out onto the roof of the building.  I can smell
incense, and see the stars above.  There are rustling noises
around me, and suddenly the blood is pounding through my body and
all of my extremities are tingling.  I struggle again to sit up,
but something has my shoulders fast to the gurney.  The nurse
leans over, and I am surprised to see that she is topless.  Her
heavy breasts sway over me as she rubs a sharp-smelling unguent
onto my shoulders, neck and chest.  I look down and Carol is also
topless and doing the same to my feet, rubbing her fingers
thoroughly between each of my toes, then working her hands up my
calves, knees, thighs.  Her hands meet the nurse's at my groin
and they work as a team to make sure none of that area is left
dry.  The unguent warms me where they have rubbed it.

     I had forgotten the wires and patches from earlier, but my
nipples suddenly feel a low tickling vibration. I try to say
something but the tube in my mouth seems to have gotten larger.
Carol and the nurse lift my knees and push my feet toward my
bottom, fastening my ankles to the side of the gurney.  Carol
reaches beneath me and rubs a dollop of the ointment between my
ass cheeks, moving with deliberate strokes of her long fingers,
dipping in, rubbing around, each time lingering longer with the
tips of her fingers at my anus.  I watch her breasts sway in the
moonlight, fascinated and aroused.  Finally she slides one finger
in, deep, deeper, I don't know how she can get it so deep within
me and my cock throbs almost painfully in response.

     The nurse moves over me, blocking my view of Carol, and
lowers herself onto my erection.  She is impossibly tight; the
tip of my cock is pulled open as she forces herself down in short
sharp shocks.  Hot... so hot inside... and when she reaches back
and rubs more of the heating unguent on my swollen balls I cry
out around the slick tube in my mouth, begging for release, for
her to move just a little faster, when liquid starts to come from
the tube in my mouth and I'm too busy swallowing to complain...

*** Carol's Account ***

     The new office had several large cubicles set apart by
partitions, and I went into one while Ken went into another.  The
cubicle was set up like a small medical exam room, and the women
with me asked me to remove my blouse and skirt while she set up a
rather complex machine with electrical leads, dials and displays.
I watched with interest, as this was a much more sophisticated
looking setup than the one they had used for the preliminary
screening.  I draped my clothes over a chair and sat down as she
affixed little sticky tabs (kind of like round band-aids) to the
leads coming from the machine.  She attached several on my
shoulders, sides and lower spine, and I shivered at the cold
contact.  Then a couple low on my belly, one on the inside of
each of my thighs about an inch below my panties, and finally one
between my breasts.  My skin tingled faintly where she touched
me.  The wires hummed with a low, not unpleasant, buzz.  I
blushed to feel that my nipples were erect, but the woman took no
notice.  She placed a hood over my eyes, and said "Tell me if you
can feel this."  I felt a pin prick my neck, a feather between my
breasts, a pinch at my right earlobe, something sharp gripping my
toe, hot flashes at my crotch.  Suddenly I felt the urgent need
to go to the bathroom, and I told her so.  She removed my hood
and directed me thorugh a door into a small room.  I rushed into
the small toilet and voided loudly, embarrassed at the odor.
When the spasms ceased, I turned the fan on and washed up
thoroughly, using the scented hand soap I found there before
going back out.  I went back to my seat and put my bra back on as
the woman puttered at her desk, then my skirt and blouse.

     She handed me the hood and led me into a darkened booth.  I
sat in a metal frame chair that was cold against the backs of my
legs, and she positioned my left arm through a hole in the left
side of the booth onto what she called the "control handle".  I
moved it experimentally, it seemed to be covered in foam rubber
or something equally flexible.  My right hand went into the
special computer glove lying on the chair arm.  I blinked twice
as I heard the door close, and the darkness of the hood faded and
was replaced...

     I was in a low-slung sleek car, driving down a highway.  The
engine throbbed beneath my feet, and I was passing a sign that
said "VR Central -- 7 miles".  I heard a phone ring, and looked
down to see a cellular phone on the passenger seat.  I picked it
up and heard Ken's voice saying "Why don't you put the top down,
and I'll see you at VR Central for lunch."  I found the
convertible top switch, and as the roof folded down behind me I
felt the wonderful breeze against my face, contrasting with the
warmth of the sun against my arms and breasts.

     Breasts?  I looked down... my blouse and bra were gone.  The
breeze whipped its way past my nipples, leaving them all tingly.
I shrugged, wondering how the computer managed that effect, and
drove on.  Up on the right I saw some small signs, like the old
style Burma Shave signs.  These said:

     For extra speed
     In special cars
     What you need
     Is handle bars!
     Squeeze the left handle...

     I looked to my left and saw a leather-covered handle
sticking up from the side panel.  I wrapped my hand around the
resilient surface and pushed -- no movement.  I pulled and
twisted it, but nothing happend. Finally, I gave it a good
squeeze and tugged upward.  That seemed to be the key.  The
handle felt hot in my hand and the steering wheel suddenly began
changing on me.  I grabbed the wheel as it stretched and morphed
into a set of evil-looking handle bars, like you'd get on a
Harley.  The seat under me felt more like a bicycle seat as well,
contoured to cup and separate the cheeks of my bottom so I felt
the purr of the engine there as well as under my feet.  I held
down the gas pedal as I passed a sign that said "VR Central, next
exit."  The middle of the seat under me seemed to have dropped,
so it was more like sitting on a U- bar.  I moved until I finally
got comfortable with it, about the time I came to the highway
exit.  The exit led to a toll booth, and when I looked down I
found some quarters on the passenger seat.  I tossed the quarters
in the toll basket, and waited for the arm to rise.

     Instead the steering wheel/handlebars moved, stretching out
from the dashboard to wrap around my chest, pinning my body and
arms against the seat back.  My hands were still wrapped around
the handles, though, and the toolbooth arm rose so I pressed the
gas pedal.  The vibrations of the engine seemed more immediate,
both through my foot and through the seat, and I was starting to
get a pleasant buzz from them as I drove out.  The sign directed
me to a restaurant at VR Central, so I followed the arrows and
wound up at a drive-through place.  I stopped at the speaker, and
the voice was Ken's. "Hi, Carol, glad you could make it here.
What'll you have -- Lunch Special 1 or Lunch Special 2?"  There
wasn't any sign explaining what the difference was, so I shrugged
and said "Surprise me."  Big mistake.

     The engine of my car came to life, and the whole seat under
me started vibrating.  I twisted the handles for all I was worth,
but that didn't seem to have any effect.  However, the frame that
was holding me in my seat shifted shape again, with large rings
wrapping around the bases of my breasts.  The rings were warm and
they hummed, and moved outward from my chest, shrinking as they
moved until at the farthest out they were the size of dimes
holding my nipples.  Then they came back in, still humming.  I
was starting to get turned on from all this, when I felt
something between my legs.  I tried to look down, but the
framework got in the way.  It was warm, though, and slick, and
humming.  I said "Ken...?" to the speaker but didn't get an
answer.  Whatever it was between my legs started moving up and
down, squeezing up between my thighs and resting against the top
of my panties.  Then it started vibrating, right over my clit.

     I can't say it was unexpected, but it caught me by surprise
anyway.  My eyes opened, and I clutched the steering handles
tighter.  It felt *good*, not like the vibrators I had tried when
Ken was out of town.  This time when it moved down, it stopped at
the opening to my vagina and paused there.  I twisted the right
handlebar, and felt the thing press into me.  I realized I didn't
have any panties on, and wondered at that, but the little humming
wonder felt *good*, and I twisted the handlebar a little more and
felt it push into me as I tried to move my legs apart for it.
Suddenly it was inside me, and I was breathing heavily as it
buzzed and slowly moved in and out.  Between the frame holding my
breasts and this wonderful joystick probing inside me, I was
sweating and shivering all over.  My bottom felt odd, like I had
to go... no... it was the other way round... something wanted
*in*, something warm... and wet... ohhhhhhhh.....

*** Not The End ***

     Samantha climbed off of Ken where he lay strappped down on
the table, his rampant cock held erect by the ring at its base,
and turned to the other couple.  Carol was suspended in an iron
frame by her wrists, and Rhonda was teasing her ass with a
vibrator.  "How's she coming," asked Samantha.  "Very nicely,"
was the response, "she's as suggestive as the profiles indicated
and it doesn't take much to set her off."  "Shall we hang him in
the cage for phase two yet?"  "Oh, I don't think we need to rush
-- nobody's coming for them any time soon, and I want a piece of
that big stick you've been hogging!..."

///// end

Rajah Dodger - Where plane geometry intersects fancy footwork...

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