Virtual Reality

     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 episode
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, looked 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
scrubs 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 stick shift.

     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 through 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
happened. 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 tollbooth, 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 tollbooth 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 strapped 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!"