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From: tigger@alices.com (Tigger)
Subject: (ASSM) Celestial Story Contest Entry: The Reality of Virtual Possession (FemDom, Romance, SciFi)
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The following is a work of erotic fiction intended for  people who
enjoy reading erotica who are of legal age and in localities
where the reading of such material is legal.

Dedication:  To friends whose feedback make the writing
fun, and whose constructive criticisms make the stories
better:  Lady Sara, L. Corvidae, Vickie Tern and 
Mistress Alice just to name a few.  Thank you all.

Reposting/archiving of this story is permitted provided
that the site is free, that no changes be made to the story,
and that my authorship is acknowledged.

The Reality of Virtual Possession
by Tigger
Copyright 1998, all rights reserved.

"Well then," Dr. Ronald Ketchum said to the beautiful woman
seated across from him.  "That about covers it all for my
purposes."

Diane Alverson smiled broadly at the tall slender research
physician.  In her public persona, she was known as Lady
Mystique, a top level LPC, or Licensed Personal Companion, who
was board certified for any gender interaction by the state
Board of Health and Public Welfare.  "I think you have finally
gotten the nuances down completely, Ron.  Quite amazing,
actually.  I am only glad that your design is much too
expensive to be put into mass production.  Folks like me would
be out of a job."  Her mobile features curled into a
classically winsome pout.

"No need to worry about that, Diane.  It is just basic
research right now.  Maybe we can use parts of these designs
to help people with specific problems, but the computer
processing components are simply too far beyond the means of
the average wage earner for the technology to be generally
profitable.  Likely to stay that way for some time, too." Ron
answered as he stood and offered his hand to the tall blonde
courtesan.

She shuddered delicately.  "Well, that relieves my mind." she
said dramatically before her face turned mischievous.  "Today
was very nice." her husky voice stretched the word 'very' out,
rolling the 'r' in a catlike purr.  "Very nice indeed.  You
just call me the next time you want to run more tests like the
ones today, darling.  Don't noise this about, but I'll even
give you a special rate for my time.  It just feels too good
to be considered work."

Since a sizable portion of Ron's testing budget had been
dedicated to paying the exorbitant hourly fees commanded by
Mystique and her peers, he wished that she might have made
that offer a little earlier in the program.  The money could
have been used for other test subjects.  He could have used
less experienced professionals, but had instead opted for the
fuller, broader experiences, instincts and insights of the
very best in their field.

At the door, Diane kissed Ron on the cheek and offered her own
in return.  "Thank you, Diane.  You have been a great help."

Ron returned to his desk and reviewed the notes from the
debriefing interview with Diane as well as the medical
computer logs from the testing.  It seemed that he had, in
fact, succeeded - at least from the feminine perspective.  All
the LPC's now agreed that his system was at last effective. 
Unfortunately, another ramification of his decision to use
only the best women available in his test program had been
that there was very little money left in the budget to pay
male professionals of any rank for their insights and
comments.  Well, he thought, he'd tested the device himself,
and it had worked for him. Which was all that was really
required for what he had planned since the moment he had first
conceived the project.

Quietly, he sat back and reconsidered all the data, all the
results and all the potential ramifications of what he planned
to do.  No, this device had not been designed for sale to the
general population.  Ronald had a very different, very
personal motivation for developing this technology.  

Tonight, he told himself grimly.  Tonight he'd find out if he
had been successful in achieving his true, but undocumented
goals.

~-------------~

Ronald stood outside the room that housed his Virtual
Environment Immersion Device.  With the exception of a pair of
running shorts, he was nude.  Moving to the table beside his
control console, he picked up what appeared to be a mass of
spaghetti wire with small, circular plastic disks.

Carefully, he unwound the clump of wires and positioned the
disks so that the small metallic contacts on the one side of
each were facing inward.  The whole thing fit over his head
like a surreal hat.  Standing in front of the mirror he'd
installed for this very purpose, Ronald began affixing the
small electrodes to specific spots about his head and down the
back of his neck near the juncture of his skull and his spine. 
The wire web tightened to hold the disks in place.

The disks were, in point of actual fact, the part of Ronald's
brainchild that were unlikely to ever become inexpensive
enough for it to become generally profitable.  Each of the
supersensitive disks included a nanocomputer chip that, by
means of quantum chaotic designs, exceeded the computing power
of late twentieth century supercomputers by several orders of
magnitude.  The wire mesh provided nerve-like connections
between the super computer chips, further increasing the
actual computing power by several times more.

Ronald stepped back to the control console and powered up the
networks and ran a final set of diagnostic pre-checks. 
Everything checked out.

"Are you ready, Love?" he called to the other side of the
chamber.

"Yes, Ronald. As ready as I will ever be." was the soft,
feminine reply.  Ronald could hear the fearful hope tinged
with nervous anxiety in her voice.

"And you remember how the control functions work?"

The answer to his question was a soft chuckle.  "How could I
dare to forget?  You've been beating that to death now for
weeks.  I think I could operate these things in my sleep."

"Okay, then." he answered, trying to sound confident and
assured.  "Let's do it."

Quickly, before he could think again of what might go wrong,
Dr. Ronald Ketchum, MIT PHD in cybernetics and Harvard Medical
School trained neurology specialist, strode through the door
of his immersion chamber.

The inside of the chamber was a featureless cube that, with
the exception of the one door into the chamber, was pure
unrelieved silvery white - floor, walls and ceiling. Light
seemed to issue from every wall, from every corner without any
apparent source in the chamber. With measured tread, Ronald
moved into the very center of chamber and then just stood for
a few moments, gathering his courage.

It had to work.  Failure was simply unthinkable.  It *had* to
work.

Closing his eyes, he took one last deep breath, and was barely
able to whisper.  "Computer, execute program DarkLove."

"Running." was the softly inflected, androgynous voice of the
"Vicky", the bastardized name derived from the acronym of
"Voice Command User Interface", or VCUI.

Suddenly, the eerie room lighting was gone and the chamber was
plunged into a stygian darkness.  The effect reminded Ronald
of the movie theaters of his youth, where the house lights
would go out just before the projector was turned on to light
up the silvered screen.

The first noteworthy effect of program DarkLove was the
appearance of burning torches affixed to each visible wall.
Their fiery light flared to illuminate parts of the room, and
to shadow others.  With the return of light, Ronald was able,
for the very first time, to actually see the world he had
created - first in his fantasies, then in a computer and
finally here in this room. The formerly smooth, featureless
walls were gone, replaced by walls made of rough, uneven stone
that looked like they had been hewn out of solid rock.  

As his vision continued to adjust to the flickering red light,
he began to make out other constructs that now occupied the
seemingly much larger space.  There were chain shackles
hanging from steel rods hammered into the stone walls and into
the ceiling overhead.  A brazier filled with glowing red coals
occupied one corner of the dungeon, an old fashioned standing
pillory rested against one wall and what appeared to be a
mediaeval torture rack stood against a third wall - a now
blank wall where the door through which he had entered had
seemingly disappeared.

While his rational mind knew that everything he now saw was
all hologram and illusion, it still *seemed* real.  Much of
that reality was the result of the computer disk web on his
head. The electrodes sensed and then modulated the electrical
signals flowing in his brain so that he saw, felt, tasted,
smelled and heard what program DarkLove *told* him to sense. 
He could feel the dry heat emanating from the brazier, could
smell the burning wood, could feel the chill to his bare feet
from the cold, damp rock floor of the dungeon.  

"Hello, slave."  The voice that spoke was sultry, female and
amused.  Ronald slowly turned to face the owner of that voice.

The woman was tall, standing several inches taller than his
own six feet.  Her figure was slender yet womanly and she was
dressed to show it off.  She wore a white blouse that left
bare her shoulders while billowing sleeves adorned her arms. 
Her waist nipped in to where a wide black leather belt formed
a demarcation between her modest but shapely breasts, and her
flaring womanly hips.  Black trousers hugged her long legs
only to disappear into the cowled tops of a pair of high
heeled knee-boots.

There was just the faintest hint of a smile on her face as she
purposefully closed the distance between them.  With great
solemnity, she took him in her arms and kissed him thoroughly. 
Deep emotion racked her and Ronald could feel her trembling as
she hugged him with all of her considerable strength.  "God, I
have missed this." she murmured against his mouth.  Desire
flared between them, and Ronald's arms started to come up to
return her embrace, only to have her catch his wrists in her
hands.  "Not so fast, my slave.  This is *still* my game and
we will *still* play it out by my rules." she said with a
teasing lilt in her voice.  

"And I can see that you have already forgotten one of those
rules, you naughty boy." she said looking down at his waist. 
"How are you supposed to be attired when ordered to present
yourself to me, slave?"

An embarrassed flush fired Ronald's face, and he hastily
shucked out of the running shorts.  "I am to be nude, Mistress
Ellen, so that any part of my body is available to you and
your pleasures."

She nodded.  "Too bad you did not remember until prompted,
pet.  That is a demerit already and we haven't even started
yet."  She paused, looking around her slowly to take in the
facilities of the dungeon, before speaking loudly.  "Computer,
execute program safeword."

"Running.  The slave will state his safeword aloud for voice
print identification."

Ronald swallowed to clear the lump in his throat, and failed. 
"My safe. ." his voice broke, and he coughed, before all but
yelling "My safeword is steadfast." 

"Acknowledged and voice print logged." responded the main
computer.  "The next time either participant speaks aloud the
word 'steadfast', Program DarkLove will be terminated by this
facility.  Continuing program DarkLove."

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's see what we
can do in your little play land, my love."  Her eyes rose
upward to where a set of shackles dangled down from the rock
ceiling.  Thought became deed and Ronald quickly found his
arms pulled tautly above his head.  

Again, he knew that the chains were not really there, but the
neural network in his helmet inhibited signals from his brain
that would allow his arms to lower or to move beyond the
limitations of the virtual bindings.  Real chains could not
have bound him any more effectively than the commands that
restrained his brain and nervous system.  Such was the power
and the influence of the Virtual Environment Immersion Device.

Mistress Ellen slowly circled her bound slave, her hands
touching him and exploring him again and again - a feathery
graze across his taut stomach, a teasing, almost painful pinch
of his nipples, a kiss on the neck just behind the shell of
his ear, a fondling squeeze of both asscheeks.  "You are a
magnificent animal, darling slave." she whispered into his ear
as she continued to squeeze his butt.  "I am going to enjoy
this so much."

"I will do my very best to give you pleasure, Mistress Ellen."
he whispered back.

"I know you will, dear." her voice was warm with the special
emotion they were sharing.  "You always have.  Now, let's
begin, shall we?  First, a little warmup, my love."  The hands
on his buns slipped away. 

*SMACK*  Stinging fire lit his right asscheek which was
immediately followed by a matching burn in the left.  After
the first shocking swat, Ronald let himself ease into the
rhythm of the spanking.  Mistress Ellen had always been an
artist at this type of play.  The blows were not too fast nor
too slow; their intensity neither too hard nor too soft. 
Gradually, she struck a spark inside him, which she carefully
fanned into a warming fire.

"My hand stings, darling." she complained.  "Where's my
flogger?" she demanded.  Immediately, the requested tool
appeared in her hand.  "How very thoughtful." she said as the
long strands of soft deer hide cut across both cheeks of his
bottom.

The fire she'd lit mere moments before flared hotter, and
Ronald found himself becoming aroused and erect even as tears
streamed down his cheeks.  Mistress saw it, too, for she
stepped around him and gripped the hard length of him in her
free hand.  "Very nice, slave." she said as she leaned over
and kissed him again.  "I am going to enjoy that. . . . later. 
However, I think it is just a little too early for such
presumption on your part, and you already facing at least one
demerit's worth of correction.  Your training has slipped."
she tsked at him in mocking sympathy.  "Well, let's see if I
can take your mind off that unsightly swelling, dear."

The "devil-take-the-hindmost" glint in her eyes should have
warned him, but as she had just pointed out, he was out of
training - on many levels.

A whistling hiss was all the warning he received before an
icy-cold line of fire seared across his buttocks.  His
agonized scream died a-borning in his chest when his breath
was stolen by the next slash that sliced him right in the very
tender crease between buttock and thigh.

Mistress Ellen strutted back into his field of vision.  A look
of triumphant pleasure lighting her lovely face, and a rattan
school cane swinging loosely from a leather wrist strap held
in her strong right hand.  "Aw, look," she said in feigned
dismay as she lifted his now limp cock with the tip of the
four foot long implement, "It wilted, poor thing."

With only the merest flick of her wrist, she sent the tip end
of the cane snapping across the twin balls hanging low in his
scrotum.  Ronald's eyes bulged and his scream of surprised
pain resounded off the dark walls of the dungeon, as he did a
graceless jig, trying vainly to lift his legs into a
protective fetal position.

Mistress Ellen simply stood there, slapping the cane against
her leather boot, savoring his suffering, savoring his
endurance.  When he'd calmed, she stepped up to him, her nose
scant millimeters from his.  "Well, my darling slave. That was
quite a display on your part.  I thoroughly enjoyed it.  So
much, that I want to do it again.  I am going to give you four
cuts of the cane on your lovely ass, and then, I am going to
give you another tap on your family jewels."  She took his
chin in her free hand and ravaged his mouth with another
needy, hungry kiss, letting him feel her excitement.  "Only
you can stop me, little man.  If you don't safeword, I will
make the next few minutes terrible for you, and I will *love*
every moment of it.  So, what are you going to do, lover?"

Ronald wished he had not done his job of programming neural
feedback quite so well.  Over the intervening years, he had
forgotten that his beloved Mistress was something of a sadist
- a loving one, but a sadist nonetheless.  His ass felt like
she had sliced him clear to the bone and his balls felt like
they were growing larger and more painful with each breath. 
That no real harm was being done to him was immaterial - the
pain induced by computer stimulation of his nervous system was
real and inescapable - unless he safeworded.  

She had not moved as he fought his private battle with the
hurt and the anticipation of worse yet to come.  Her chin came
up in a royal challenge, daring him to continue and inviting
him to quit.

It would have been so easy to yell out his safeword . . . and
so dishonest.  Because he knew he could handle it, if he was
doing it for her.   Wasn't this why he had built this device? 
Wasn't this why he had offered himself up to her?  For her
pleasure, for her fulfillment?  He answered himself with a nod
before lifting his head to meet her challenging gaze. "I. . .
will . . . endure, Mistress." he rasped out.

Her eyes warmed, and she kissed him again, more softly and
lovingly this time, before offering the cane to his lips. 
"Then kiss the instrument of your trial, slave, and then ask
me for the first cut."

Ronald kissed her cane, and then watched her move behind him
once more.  He felt the cane laid across his quivering
buttocks.  Closing his eyes, he drew in a deep breath. 
"Mistress, may it give you pleasure - may I have the first
cut, please?"

And she took him into hell.  She held the cane against him
after landing each stroke, letting the hurt sink deep into
him, giving him time to recover his wits sufficiently to
appreciate the burning pain and to anticipate fully her next
strike.  By the time she finished the fourth cut, he was
bellowing his anguish, his eyes closed tightly against the
hurt and so he missed her stepping quickly around in front of
him.  

He did not miss the final "love-tap" to his balls.

Only sheer force of will kept him conscious as the computer
stimulated pain drove him nearly mad.  But he held on, and he
endured for her.

"Lower the ceiling chains." she ordered in a loud voice.

In response to her command, Ronald felt his arms go slack in
their bonds, and he fought not to crumple to his knees.  Ellen
pressed down on his shoulders until he understood and knelt
before her.  "Caning you has gotten me incredibly hot,
darling." she explained as her shaking hands fumbled at the
closing of her pants.  "Dammit," she growled in frustration,
"I wish these pants were off."  In an instant, her pants
simply disappeared and Ronald found himself on eye level with
her trimly furred venus mound.  "My, but that is handy." she
purred as her hands went to the back of his head to pull him
to her.  "Pleasure me, slave." she growled.  "Do it well, and
we might just forget your demerit. Otherwise, you will pay for
that demerit with another session with the cane."

The threat was not necessary, for Ronald had been dreaming of
this moment since he had first known the Virtual Reality
Immersion Device was viable.  Hot woman enveloped Ron's face
as her hands threaded into his sweaty hair and pulled him
harder into her sex.  Everything the artificial intelligence
system had learned from the LPCs fed into the sensations he
was savoring at that special moment.  The soft musky scent of
her, the sweat- salty, juicy-sweet taste of her, the ticklish
scratchiness of her pussy hair on his nose and cheeks, and the
soft moans and sounds of her arousal and her pleasure.

He felt her begin to grind herself harder and faster into his
face and then felt her vaginal muscles began to spasm beneath
his questing tongue.  Quickly, he pulled back against her
fingers pulling his hair and slid his mouth up to her
clitoris.  Taking the hard erect bud and gripping it between
his lips, Ronald began to rapidly brush the hard, pointed tip
of his tongue back and forth across her.  A very satisfying
squeal told him his strategy was effective.

Suddenly, everything stopped for one, two, three heartbeats,
and then Ellen shattered, exploding into a climax that both
exhilarated and humbled him.  Determinedly, Ronald rode with
her gyrations, seeking to prolong her pleasure as long as
possible.

She finally stopped, her body shuddering, her breaths coming
in short panting gulps, her eyes wide with shock and arousal. 
"Chains off." she ordered.  Ronald felt the chains on his
wrists disappear moments before Ellen pushed him onto his
hands and knees.  "That was very well done, darling, and to
show my appreciation, I am going to forgive that demerit and
do something that you will give you pleasure."

She walked around in front of him so that he could see her. 
In one hand she held a harness from which hung a long, very
thin dildo, of the type used for anal penetration, and in the
other dangled a thin leather bracelet.  Ellen slip back behind
him and then laid down on his back.  He could feel the hard
points of her nipples digging into his back as her hands
slipped around him to find and tease his renewed erection.  

"Excited, are we?" she purred into his ear as she continued to
stroke his heated length.  "Well, I want you to stay that way
and not waste this lovely hard on.  As I said, I have plans
for that later on, so we'll just make sure you don't have any
unfortunate accidents that would deprive me of those
pleasures."

Ronald felt rather than saw the strip of leather surround his
cock and balls at the root and then become very, very tight. 
"That should keep all that lovely man juice where it belongs
until I decide otherwise." she said with smug satisfaction.  

Her weight lifted off him and then he heard the rustle and
snap of latex gloves being pulled on.  A cool, slick finger
slipped between the cheeks of his still burning ass and probed
for his anal pucker.  She found it on the first try and was
soon sliding that finger in and out of his ass.  A second
finger slipped in when he wasn't expecting it, which in turn
was shortly followed by a third as his body first relaxed,
then accepted and finally began moving with her slow, even
strokes.

When the fingers left him, he knew what was coming next. 
Strong hands gripped his hips, and something hard poked at him
between his buttocks, missing the still open hole.  "Reach
back and guide me into you, slave." Ellen hissed, her arousal
peaking yet again.  
He had always been shamed at the pleasure he felt when she
unmanned him by fucking his ass.  Now, the humiliation was
particularly exquisite as he willingly participated in his own
violation.  Once he'd seated it at the aperture of his ass,
the harnessed dildo easily slipped past the weakened ring of
muscle under her weight.  He felt the toy slide in deep,
filling him, and then felt it slide out, leaving him feeling
empty and oddly bereft.  Ellen began fucking him with long,
smooth strokes, and soon had him thrusting back to meet her.
Their movements stimulated his prostate, and soon he felt the
granddaddy of all orgasms building in his guts.

It never happened.

Ronald groaned as his body tried to climax, and was prevented
from doing so by the unyielding ring of leather about his
genitals.  Ellen felt his ass spasm, felt him gripping at her
phallus.  Smiling to herself, she let his moment of crisis
pass as she continued her gentle rape of his ass.  Once she he
had calmed, she sheathed her toy in him fully, tickling his
tenderized cheeks with stray pussy hairs that were not covered
by the harness.  

"Well, darling, if you are trying to climax on me, you must be
ready for the next phase. Computer!" her soft, teasing tones
changed to sharp command as she addressed the main computer. 
"Change dildo.  New style - Lifelike.  New length - 8 inches. 
Maximum diameter - one and one half inches.  Include testicles
filled with body temperature lubricant.  Execute."

"Running."  Ronald's eyes bulged as the hard lump in his ass
instantaneously lengthened, curved and thickened.  The new
width alone was at least three times the old one.  

Ronald whimpered in discomfort as his body worked to
accommodate the vastly larger cock.  "Too much for you, tough
guy?" she asked, her words dripping with mock concern.

He wanted to lie to her, to tell her that it was too much, and
to beg her to return to the smaller, more manageable toy, but
he couldn't do that.  "Almost, Mistress." choked out between
the deep breaths he was taking to try to relax his tortured
bottom.  "But I can handle it."  He hoped he could, anyway.

"Reach back and grip my balls, sweetheart." Ellen ordered
softly.  It was difficult and awkward for him, having to reach
so far back between his legs with one hand while maintaining
his position with the other, but he finally managed it.  "Now,
listen carefully, slave.  I am now going to fuck you really
hard until *I* orgasm.  I'm going to be far too self-involved
to worry about your poor little ass, so your job is to squeeze
my balls whenever you feel you need a little more lubrication. 
I wouldn't let my grip slip, dear slave.  The ass you save
will most definitely be your own."

With only that warning, she pulled back from him sharply,
nearly pulling the two kidney-shaped nodules free of his
grasp.  Somehow, he managed to hold on and then firmed his
grip into a squeeze as she stroked back in.  He almost sighed
in relief as the soothing lubrication coated his rectum.  The
pace rapidly increased as did the power of Ellen's strokes. 
Ronald's eyes nearly crossed as his body attempted yet another
orgasm only to be frustrated once again by the tight leather
ring.  

"Oh, god, it is so good." Ellen groaned.  "So very, very good.
Feed me, darling.  Be strong for me." 

Then she went mad.

Ronald's grip on her balls failed as she began spasmodically
jerking into and out of him, her strokes no longer smooth, her
hands no longer firm and steady on his sweat-slick flanks. 
Grimly, he gave up trying to recapture those wildly dancing
balls, and instead braced himself with both hands, trying to
drive back and meet her furious strokes - trying to push her
ever higher.

When she finished her climax, she collapsed against his back. 
She did not move for a very long time, causing Ronald to worry
she might have gone to sleep.  Then, she began to move and
once again, her hands crept around his torso and he felt her
buckle something about his waist.  When she stood up, he
realized that the rubber phallus was harnessed deep inside his
body.

Before he could quite assimilate what that meant, Mistress
Ellen's hands were on him, urging him over onto his back.  He
looked at her in stunned silence.  Her hair was wild, her eyes
were wide and just a little bit crazed, and her nose was
flaring in her passion.

And then she was stepping over him, straddling him between her
legs.  "I have got to have you - NOW!" the last word coming
out as an angry scream, as she gripped his rampant cock in one
hand and guided it into her as she mounted his prone body.

Ronald whimpered at the sheer joy of having her body engulfing
him, possessing him.  Her nails ravaged him, digging sharply
into his nipples as she began a slow, arching ride.  Every
stroke she took his full length into the hot core of her
woman's body and ground her pelvis into him on each out
stroke.  Every few strokes she would slide down to kiss his
mouth, or to nip playfully at the throbbing pulse in his neck. 

Helpless to resist her, Ron fought a losing battle to maintain
his control, to make the pleasure of this long anticipated
mating union continue indefinitely.

But it had been too long.  

A particularly fast down stroke lit his fuse and he began to
arch into her thrusts, to drive himself deeper and deeper into
her.  The force of his desperate thrusts as his body again
attempted to orgasm triggered her own climax.  With her last
rational thought, Ellen reached down and released the catch-
lock of constraining ring about his cock.  Shouting his
triumph to the heavens, Ronald pumped his very soul into her
womb.

They lay there on the cold stone in the flickering light of
the torches for a long time, cuddling and whispering promises
to one another.  Finally, Ellen sat up.  She leaned down and
gave him a loving kiss.  "Thank you, my darling.  I think that
is enough for the first attempt.  It has been the most
wonderful gift anyone has ever given me, but likewise, it has
also been a very long time.  I am not used to such intense
activity and I am exhausted."

"We can do it again when ever you want, my love." he promised
fervently.

She smiled very tenderly down at him, and let her hand gently
stroke the sweat lock of hair out of his eyes.  "I know,
darling, and we will again very soon." she whispered against
his mouth before breaking the kiss and saying in much louder
voice.  "Computer.  Program DarkLove complete.  Terminate
Program DarkLove."

"Working." was the response.

Once again, the absolute darkness descended on the room, this
time to be replaced by the light that had pervaded the room
when he had first entered.  Still lying on his back, Ronald
forced himself to look around.  The dungeon had vanished, no
longer anything but the myriad bits of data floating about on
the main computers storage disks.

He was alone in the room, but that was only to be expected. 
Slowly, Ron stood up, and felt the cooling puddle of semen
that had splattered onto his stomach begin to trickle down and
then drip to the floor.  The almost overwhelming fullness in
his ass was gone; the sensations of having been thoroughly
anally ravished, and of having been thoroughly thrashed and
caned were only a memory.  With the exception of the spilled
semen and his still rapidly beating heart, there was no
physical evidence of what he had just shared with Mistress
Ellen.  

Feeling fatigued himself, Ron turned to the door that had once
again appeared and walked out of the chamber.

Outside, he moved over to where his wife Ellen rested upon the
special couch that provided the cyber-neural connection to the
main system computer. A soft sound caught his ear and he
realized it was Ellen. She was crying softly.  Frightened that
something had gone wrong, that she had somehow been hurt by
her direct mental connection with the powerful computer, he
rushed over and knelt down beside her.  

"Love, are you hurt?  What is wrong?" he asked frantically,
but she was too choked up to answer him. 

Finally, she regained control enough to speak, although the
tears still fell.  "Oh, Ronald, that was so beautiful.  I
never thought I would feel those things again, never feel the
heat of you as I flogged you, or the love of your mouth on me,
or the depth of your caring as you filled me with your cock. 
And I did feel those things." She sobbed harder.  "You made me
whole again, and I love you so."

Ronald began to gently remove the computer web helmet from her
head, all the while stroking her long silky tresses.  "I am
glad, my love." he responded.  It *HAD* worked.  And using
Diane's basic body and physio-neurological attributes as the
basis for his beloved's virtual reality avatar had worked
better than he'd even dared hope it would.  It had been the
striking similarity between the two women had that had
prompted Ronald to use the lovely LPC as his primary test
subject and more importantly, as the secret model for the
Mistress Ellen avatar, and it *had* worked.  

Sitting down beside her on the couch, Ronald continued to
stroke her head until the tears ran their course.  "Better
now, my love?" he asked softly as he leaned down to kiss her
gently.

"Better than I have been in five long years, darling." A yawn
interrupted her. "Except I am so tired now."

"Ready for bed?" he asked.  At her affirmative response,
Ronald kissed her again and then, with great care, lifted her
frail body off the couch.  Holding her close and letting her
head rest on his shoulder, he carried over and settled her
into her chair.  Still flush with success and basking in his
wife's love, he then stood and took the handles of her
wheelchair in his hands - the wheelchair that had been, until
now, the only freedom her paralyzed body had known since the
accident five years before that had left her without movement
or feeling below the neck.

"It was so wonderful, Ronald, to move and feel again, even if
it was all in my head.  It is too bad it is only in that one
little room." 

"Soon, my love, I will have our house configured so that you
can move about the whole house, at least via your avatar.  We
can even have guests over.  And we can make the chamber into
whatever place you want to visit."

"I can't believe you did this . . . it's incredible."

"I had a great incentive, my love.  No one loves like you. 
Could I do less?"   He already had the plans necessary to
equip an entire house with his technology, a place where she
could live in a true-to-life virtual reality beyond the
limited confines of her unresponsive body and her wheelchair. 

Why stop there?, he asked himself sternly.  Hell, If he could
make her brain think she was moving, if he could make her
brain "feel" again with his little chips and wires, then he
could also find a way to extend that to her real body.  His
computer networks could do for his wife what her severed
spinal cord could no longer do for her.  It was the next
obvious step in the program, expensive to be sure, but in the
end, well worth whatever the cost.

His wife *would* walk, feel and make love again, and his
Mistress *would* bind, tease and whip again - and in the un-
virtual reality of the so-called real world.  He had just
proven that he had the technology.  Now, it was only a matter
of time and work and love for him to finish the job properly -
and he definitely had those attributes in hand.

"I love you with all my mind, heart and soul, darling husband
and slave." Ellen said softly, rolling her head and eyes
backward, trying to look him in the eyes.

"As I love you, beloved wife and Mistress," Ronald responded
reverently, "As I love you."  

"Ronald?" she asked, and he thought he heard just a touch of
mischief in her voice.

"Yes, Ellen?"

"Can you make a corset in the computer?  So that for all
intents and purposes, it would look and feel like the real
thing?"

Ronald's heart skipped a beat at that question.  Mistress
Ellen wearing a corset had always been one of his unfulfilled
fantasies because the Mistress always maintained that the
domme was not the one who should be uncomfortable during a
scene.  "Why yes, Mistress.  It would be a simple matter to
scan a corset design into the computer and then program the
neural net to provide the sensory input for the wearer."

"Excellent, my slave." she said with evident satisfaction. 
"Do it before our next scene.  If you are going to give me an
entire house to roam, I will need a maid to help me keep it
clean and tidy."  She grinned to herself. Let him stew on that
for a moment, she thought happily.

"A . . . a maid, Mistress? Ron asked, not certain he had heard
her correctly.  

"Of course, darling.  You will be just *perfect* for the role. 
Also, I expect you to start practicing your French
immediately, ronnie.  I will help you, of course, by
monitoring and assessing your progress, and by providing you
with rewards, incentives and disciplines as I think
appropriate to your effort and achievement."

"Thank you, Mistress." he said, just a little shakily and not
entirely convincingly.

Gotcha, she thought.  Time to remember who surrenders and who
accepts power in this relationship, darling.  "I think we will
call you Veronique."  She let the name slip out slowly, as if
tasting it and finding it just right.  "Oh, and do make the
corset very tight, darling.  I do insist that my personal
French Maid be a *very* sexy little slut."

Why am I surprised?, Ronald thought.  She *is* still the
Mistress.  That chair only held her body; it never chained her
mind.  Probably just gave her more time to think and now, I
have restored to her the power to act on those thoughts.  

He just shook his head, letting the images of him stumbling
about in high heels, stockings, a corset a wig and a feather
duster tumble across his mind.  She was wonderful, and he
cherished both Ellen the wife and Ellen the Mistress.

"Oui, Maitresse." Ronald replied using the extent of his
currently very limited French vocabulary before adding,  "Very
Oui."  


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