Virtual Reality

by Rajah Dodger {rdodger@hotmail.com} (c) 1994, 2009

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons
Attribution-Non-Commercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License (by-nc-sa). In
jurisdictions where the Creative Commons license is not recognized, United
States copyright and Berne Convention provisions apply; all rights reserved to
Rajah Dodger except that electronic not-for-profit reproduction rights are
explicitly granted with the stipulation that this authorship and permission
note must remain attached. 

Abstract: A woman takes her husband to a place her boss recommended; the two of
them are in for the ride of their lives 

 *** 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 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!" 

/END/