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Subject: Karen Eliot's Excellent Adventures #1
Date: 14 Mar 1997 13:05:02 -0500
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The THC Adult Text Archive: KAREN-E1.TXT (1731 lines)
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Karen Eliot's Excellent Adventures #1
The shiny red Integra glided through the late morning weekday
traffic on the Balboa Peninsula. The cool sea air blowing through
the sunroof and windows left Karen Eliot's flaming red hair
trailing in the sportster's slipstream. A rock'n'roll CD blasted
from her stereo. Tapping the tunes with her fingers on the
steering wheel she smoothly approached her beach house. The music
and engine died at the same instant. Karen reveled in the salty
sea air and the calls of the gulls as she strolled across the
carport. She never regretted her decision to live at the beach.
Karen pulled her black halter top over her head and dropped
it next to the mail on the counter. The light nipples on her pert
breasts began to harden. She reviewed the letters that she'd just
collected from her mail drop as she stepped out of her shorts and
panties. She sniffed the g-string before dropping it the nearby
pile of clothes. She was wet. Settling on the bar stool she
reached for the stash. Karen rolled herself a slender doobie as
she listened to the messages on her phone machine. Lighting the
fragrant Thai weed, she opened the long awaited answer to a zine
ad. She examined the brochure which broadly sketched what she
expected. Yes, NQA did indeed mean No Questions Asked. "High
sexual adventure" was just as suggested in the advertisement. She,
as a player, wouldn't have any clues in advance to identify her
partner. The expert-system tailored encounter was absolutely
guaranteed to satisfy her desires. She had in fact wagered a large
chunk of cash based on two personal references. The arbitration
arrangements were excellent. Details would arrive by mail soon.
Karen absently licked two finger tips and rolled them lightly over
her moist clit. She lightly pinched her nipple with her long
finger nails. At this point Emma, her feline confidante and a
sister believer in the rightness of pussy worship entered and took
front row center seat for the unfolding show. Karen kept her
movements slow and her touch light. Sometimes a finger or two
would stray and disappear for a time beyond her downy trimmed
patch only to come back with more nectar to lovingly caress her
swollen clit. An electric feeling ran through her body, connecting
her erogenous flesh. Her hips bucked and rolled as she got herself
off. Slowly her low moaning and gyrations ceased. Opening her eyes
Karen found Emma still in rapt astonishment. With a soft laugh,
Karen said, "Think what you will, Emma, but it sure beats a
sandpaper tongue on the ass, which you seem to favor."
As she adjusted the water in the shower she knew she'd be
watching the mail.
Five days later Karen was adjusting the shower again, but
this time it was in preparation for her first Adventure meet.
Stepping into the shower and letting the hot water stream down her
contours Karen reviewed the instructions. It didn't take very
long. All the note had mentioned was Cool Dave's Steak House along
with the address, date and time. Karen soaped her breasts and
envisioned Cool Dave as perhaps an irresponsible surfer type whose
wealthy parents had set him up in the food business when law,
banking and corporate sharking proved beyond him. As she finished
soaping her long legs, she turned her attention to her pussy,
giving it a gentle scrubbing in anticipation of wild frolic; a
flight of mind and body to dizzying heights and depths, not the
brief and mediocre in-and-out that too many of her partners had
let pass for a "great lay". Realizing that she had started to
stroke herself, Karen ran the other hand down the cleft of her ass
cheeks and continued until she was definitely aroused. Abruptly
she switched the water to cold to finish her shower. It always
made her skin feel alive and her mind wide awake no matter what
her previous condition had been.
She had chosen a light peach knit dress that hugged her body.
The fabric conformed to shape of her upturned tits, flat tummy,
and graceful hips. Toweling herself dry Karen then powdered
herself before the mirror, assessing her body. She had a light
dusting of freckles. Her slender feet with high arches ended in
perfectly painted toes. Her legs were firm and taut, sculpted by
years of participation in a variety of sports. Gentle swell of
hips and ass. Smooth tummy. And those tits; even she thought that
she had a nice set. They required no upward coaching and were
crowned by sweetly protruding nipples that were more accurate than
a mood ring. The bright green eyes were the most outstanding
feature of her face. Naturally thick lashes and flawless skin had
saved much hassle with cosmetics over the years. The angular lines
of her face along with her bearing often reflected a serene
confidence. Satisfied, she slipped the dress over her head.
Pulling up to a standard wood and glass restaurant of the
California style Karen noted a near empty parking lot, it was only
six thirty and Karen was happy to get eating out of the way to
make more time for the project at hand. Guided to her booth Karen
was a bit taken back to see no one there. Ordering white wine she
sat back to wait and scan the faces.
Caleb, her waiter, suspected the redhead at the reserved
table right away. You just got a feel for them after awhile. He
read about this sort of stuff in magazines. Too bad sugar daddy is
late. Five minutes and I start bugging her to order.
Karen glanced at the menu and hoped to any deity listening
that the waiter glowering in her direction was not Mister
Superfuck.It was then she felt the first feather like touch begin
to go up the inside of her thigh. She shifted slightly to
accommodate her unseen admirer who exhaled warmly on her downy
thatch. The fingers still playing almost randomly over her legs
were so light and gentle that except for their size she might have
thought there was a woman hidden under the table cloth. Also the
mouth that was becoming bolder had a mustache.
Show time, Miss Scarlett, sneered Caleb's manly inner voice.
Arranging his face to appear suitably disdainful he strode to her
table. She had enough on the ball to go ahead and order a crab
salad he noted, but he knew the pressure was getting to her. Her
voice was a tad breathy and there was a fine sheen of perspiration
on her upper lip.
Between a tongue that tantalized her clit and fingers that
had now picked higher ground to give their delightful attention,
Karen had a better idea why she was in the corner booth. She let
herself enjoy and savor the relative privacy. With the waiter gone
she was able to lift her hips enough to have her ass tenderly
cupped and kneaded. She eased one silky thigh on his shoulder and
could feel the roughness of his cheek on her. Remaining silent and
still required determination. Her lover eased away from her pussy
as the intensity of her orgasmic peaks approached overload.
Karen's orgasm faded. She relaxed as expert hands softly toweled
her crotch. With a final kiss against her swollen mound, her
lover eased into the seat next to her. "I'm Brian", he said.
"Please follow me." He dropped a Franklin on the table as they
walked to the manager's office.
Caleb had arrived with her crab salad. What a waste. The babe
was gone. He picked up the $100 bill and resolved to keep the
entirety. He returned the salad and destroyed the check.
Brian assured Karen that Cool Dave was essentially out for
the duration. Or at least until the Brady Bunch special was over.
Dave's office was appointed with furniture which apparently hadn't
seen much use. Brian's intentions were clear as he stripped. Karen
felt herself responding to the enormous organ which he revealed by
shucking his jeans. Brian grinned at Karen as his penis grew with
every beat of his heart. Karen barely believed that the beautiful,
well muscled surfer with the gigantic dong was hers. With a grin
of her own, she pulled the dress over her head and shook her wild
curls. As they met in a warm embrace their tongues intertwined in
a deep kiss. They slowly explored each others hot mouths. With a
touch Karen led Brian to the sofa and had him lie down. She
planted her knees on the cushions next to his head. As she
prepared to concentrate on his manhood, she slid back on the sofa
and again presented her twat and ass to the accomplished muff
diver. Karen grasped Brian's thick slab of man meat with one hand
and cupped his hairy balls with the other. She licked the length
of his shaft until it was glistening with her saliva. She released
his balls and began stroking his pole. Brian gently licked and
nipped at Karen's pussy lips as her tongue ringed the purple head
of his throbbing dick. Karen reluctantly released Brian's rock
hard tool. She agiley positioned herself above him. Brian massaged
Karen's tits as she grasped his member. With one hand she spread
her labia and with the other she stroked the entrance of her
vagina with his dick head. Brian felt Karen's tight, hot cunt
engulfing his veiny girth. Karen established her pace to the time
of Brian's bucking hips. She'd never felt more stuffed than when
their crotches slammed together. Karen couldn't help her moans of
pleasure as they fucked faster and faster. Karen rocketed to
orgasm and slowly subsided on Brian's chest, where they gently
hugged. After a moment Karen arose and motioned Brian up. She took
his place on the sofa and said, "You drive". Karen raised her legs
to Brian's shoulders and Brian guided his cock into her invitingly
raised pussy. He grasped her ankles and thrust in and out with
briskly controlled strokes. Hard in, easy out, long, and short,
controlled by Karen's breathing and movements. Her pleasure
building beyond control, Karen came again and again. Brian assumed
a position on all fours above Karen. They kissed deeply and with
great affection. He then extracted his rigid member and stood,
admiring, over Karen. She also rose and they warmly embraced.
"One more time, stud", Karen said. While holding his shoulders,
she jumped up and wrapped her supple legs around his waist. Brian
reached under Karen's legs and clutched her buttocks. As he lifted
her up his dick trailed the juices of their love down Karen's tummy.
He lowered her drenched snatch onto his shaft. Brian raised and
lowered Karen with his powerful arms. Karen's head was rolled back
as she moaned with delight. Brian's explosion was building.
They intensified their screwing until they came together.She could
feel his semen pulsing deep into her cunt. Her vaginal sphincter
spasmed on the root of his cock. They exploded in ecstasy together.
After a brief hug, they disentangled. Brian's semen ran from
Karen's snatch and down her thigh as she licked his love muscle clean.
He returned the favor by slurping the fluids from her pussy and thigh.
Brian produced a fluffy towel which they both used to contain the
wayward ejecta.
Brian pulled out his stash as Karen relaxed. He cut two fine
lines of Peruvian blue flake and separated them on the small
mirror. He handed the mirror and a narrow tube to Karen. With a
delicate sniff she inhaled a line of the fine cocaine. She leaned
back in the growing euphoria. Brian snorted the other line and
secured the stash. They sat on the floor enjoying each other's
presence, warmly embraced in the glow of fucking and the coke. As
one, they arose, dressed, and slipped unnoticed from Cool Dave's
office and restaurant.
Brian had already gotten a room at a nearby hotel and the
quality and variety of his sexual prowess had truly been
memorable. Karen had made another appointment for as soon as
possible on the strength of it. Now she pulled her car into the
convenience store parking lot because she was still early for her
meet at the hot tubs next door. Oh well, Emma was running low on
chow so she would pick up a few cans to avoid the accusing looks
that Emma meted out when disturbed by dietary restrictions.
Ken glanced about with the practiced economy of a predator.
If something didn't happen soon, he was going to have to move on.
Avoiding ambush and capture had honed his sense for such things.
The lone clerk in the 7-11 had noticed him an hour or so ago. He
really didn't need the pigs on him over some vagrancy bullshit. As
he turned the corner out of sight he again nervously checked his
weapon. The Glock 9mm that he'd taken off a pig after wasting him
still had a nearly full magazine. Well, less that one round for
the cunt he'd greased in Texas last week. It was lucky for him
that the pig ran combat loads; one shot, one kill. Or two. He'd
seen a newspaper that said the bitch was pregnant.
The electric company crew was pulling out. Shit, the place
was flat empty. The approaching red sports car got his attention.
A very attractive redhead got out of the Integra. It was spooky
the way she'd laid that penetrating glance on him. Her bright
green eyes seemed to see everything and more. This was it. He was
taking this one.
Karen noticed a man who seemed to be waiting for someone by
the convenience store. Was this the guy? He was kinda cute, if a
little on the hunkish side. She didn't feel any thrill of
recognition like last time, but she could feel the tingly warmth
and wetness between her legs.
Anyway, the guy didn't establish contact. She walked past him
and into the store.
She was grabbed upon leaving the store. So it is him, huh?
He'd immobilized her with a vise-like grip at one elbow and a
crushing arm around her waist. She could hardly breathe. All he
said was, "Come with me!". He quickstepped her around the side of
the store and to the back. Ken opened the passenger door of his
Mark IV and Karen stepped in with growing anticipation.
Ken carefully drove the short distance to the secret corner
of the park which he'd earlier selected. The behemothic automobile
glided to a stately halt in the empty parking lot. "You first",
Ken said motioning, "In the back".
Ken immediately began hardening at the sight of Karen's bare
boobs jiggling beneath her cotton shirt. Nips up, too. Karen
presented her lithe hips and slimly contoured ass to Ken as she
wiggled past him on her way to the back seat. The delicate aroma
of pussy aroused him further. This babe's knockers were
magnificent. Ken followed Karen to the aft of his land yacht. He
immediately set to groping her. Karen removed her shirt and Ken
began eagerly mashing her melons and roughly pinching her nips.
Suddenly deciding what he wanted, Ken turned Karen facing away
from him and tugged her slacks and panties over her hips and ass.
As soon as Karen realized that his hardon wasn't rigid enough to
penetrate her, she turned and gracefully began licking and
manipulating his wand. Karen wondered if he might be anxious. In a
few short strokes of her slender fingers, he was ready. Karen
turned back around to present her fuck target. As Ken closed, she
reached between her legs and guided his cock into her cunt. He
immediately began an incessant rabbit-like pumping. This bitch
really had a great attitude. Karen was starting to get into the
rhythm of Ken's hammering. Her orgasmic waves were building to
explosion peaks, but with great moaning Ken pulled out of her just
before coming. In the style of the porn vids with which Ken was
exceedingly familiar, he spurted his load of jism on her ass and
back. Ken had absolutely no doubt that he'd just had by far the
most pleasurable experience of his warped existence. Karen
suggested taking the blanket outside where there was more room to
romp. Entranced, he followed. As they spread the blanket on the
grass, Karen extracted a hooter from her stash. Lighting it, she
offered it to her partner, "Would you like a toke, mac?", she
asked. "What's a tokamak?", Ken dimwittedly responded. "It's a
small doughnut-shaped nuclear reactor in which a plasma is heated
and confined by electric and magnetic fields", Karen said, "But
that's not important now. Would you like a hit of my joint?"
Absolutely unable to deny the ultrafox wonderbitch, he imbibed.
They passed the smoke back and forth. After moments of silence,
Karen spoke softly, "Look. Let's do it again. This time, follow my
lead, okay? You got a name, Tiger?". "Ken", he said. "That's
better. Lean back, please Ken", were the last words possible from
Karen as she took his limp hose into her mouth. As Ken hardened in
her mouth, Karen accommodated his growing cock in her throat. Her
licking and sucking was sufficient to obtain a highly erect
member. Karen threw a leg over Ken. Lying on him, she hugged
herself to him. Karen's hot breasts pressed into Ken's chest.
Karen could feel his engorged dong against her belly as she
clamped his hips with her legs. After a momentary hug she lifted
her chest and shook her tits in an exaggerated fashion, rolling
her head of beautiful flaming locks.
Ken rose on his elbows and licked gently around Karen's erect
nipples. He'd shift between light sucking on her nipples or
kissing and massaging her breasts. Karen rolled her head as Ken
pleasured her. She raised her hips and grabbed Ken's manly meat.
She toyed with his dick head at the entrance of her cunt. Slowly
Karen lowered herself on Ken's pole. Her controlled strokes paced
their united climb to orgasm. Several times she kept him from
coming by grasping his balls. When Ken's approach to his climax
became undeniable, Karen rode his bucking meat all the harder.
With cries that couldn't be held back, they came together. Ken's
soft dick slid out of Karen's snatch as she rolled off him. Within
minutes, Ken was fast asleep.
Unable to rouse Ken, Karen yielded to her intuition and began
a quick but detailed search of his personal effects. If this isn't
Mister Superfuck then who is he? Keys and a gun. No papers of any
kind. She was reasonably sure that he wasn't a narc, but fascist
gangsters are dime a dozen. She rolled the handgun in the lunch
bag and slid it under the seat.
There weren't any tools or even a spare tire in the trunk.
What was all this weird cult religious stuff? Tracts, banners, and
books. She'd never heard of the Campus Crusade for Cthulhu. Since
The Esoteric Order of Dragon, a debased, quasi-pagan thing
imported from the East a century before, the peculiar mythos had
made few inroads on Sol III.
Karen dumped Ken's clothes within the cavernous trunk.
Ken was snoring in the grass when Karen got back to him. She
covered him with the blanket, giving him a decidedly homeless
look. A complete stranger to the Hawaiian smoke, and in a pathetic
post-coital torpor, Ken was soon snoozin'n'loozin as Karen split
with his car.
Karen eased Ken's Lincoln back into its original parking
space. Like before, the area was dead. She removed the semi-
automatic pistol from the brown bag under the seat. After checking
the safety she ejected the clip and jacked out the chambered
round. Karen took the gun and ammunition to the gutter. With a
metallic clatter she dropped the lot to the street. Swiftly, she
kicked everything into the storm drain. The car keys followed.
Karen bought a can of WD-40 and a butane cigarette lighter
from the bored clerk at the grocery. When she got to Ken's car she
carefully sprayed every interior surface with the penetrating
lubricant. After making sure that she had all her things she
locked and closed the door. As she walked away from Ken's car,
Karen tapped the lighter into an exhaust pipe so as to lodge it in
the muffler. The WD-40 can joined the gun and keys in the storm
drain. With a frisky swing of her hips, Karen headed for her car
in the front parking lot of the mini mall.
Upon returning home Karen was not very surprised to find a
message on her machine asking why she had not made her meet. Ken
had not been an earthshaking lover at all. She didn't much like
having to ditch a gun and wipe a car because of him either, but at
least everyone would walk away mostly unharmed. And she could
still look forward to her next encounter.
Karen Eliot's Excellent Adventures #2
by Jim and Meg Norris
This document may be reproduced without permission, provided
it is not modified in any fashion whatsoever, and provided it
is not delivered for any price or charge.
Karen sat at her bar in the small pool of light cast by a desk
lamp. She keyed the remote and was immediately jolted by the
intense volume in her headphones. She quickly adjusted to the
digital rock'n'roll. She extracted one of the two sugar cubes from
the small ziploc and dropped it into the clear water which about
half filled the blue crystal glass. Karen watched the thin tendrils
and bubbles climbing upward from the dissolving cube. When only a
vestige of the cube remained, Karen stirred the water. The painted
Emperor penguin atop the glass stir stick turned and spun. Clasped
lightly in Karen's regal fingers, it completed the ceremonial
preparation. Karen raised the glass and drank the water in several
unhurried swallows. With a phrase, she invoked her hypnotically-
installed interface metaphor and prepared to enter the always open
playground of her mind.
Karen closed her eyes. As always, the first effect to hit was
the intense joy. Beyond euphoria, she was lit by the electric
pleasure of cognition. The acceleration of her awareness took
Karen's breath away. She was filled with a sense of vibrant energy;
restless, resisting confinement, awaiting purpose. Karen waited,
still and receptive, enjoying her most powerful and balanced hit of
L+ yet. Her face was transformed by a wide grin. Everything that
she experienced seemed hilarious. The boundless soul laughed at
every aspect of its voluntary earthly confinement. The joyous
feelings mellowed and Karen could feel the visual effect hitting.
She opened her eyes. Her will twisted the perspective of her
view. With slight effort, she could see the framework of points
underlying her previous perspective. Karen loved to come to the
grid of brilliant spectral colors pulsing on a background of the
deepest black. She shifted her perspective further into the grid.
The perception of her immediate surroundings become masked by the
perspective switching. With the underlying grid mostly in violet
with some green, she could see her world alongside. With the grid
shifted to yellow and blue, her world became a fading afterimage.
The final displacement was to orange and red grid lines. The
delicate flows between the white node points connected by the grid
lines were clearly discernable. Karen relaxed, her mind still.
When she felt totally cleansed, Karen twisted her perspective back
to her physical circumstances.
The point framework faded, but the clear joy remained. Karen
tamped the last of her Mendocino purple kush into the bong bowl.
She smoked several hits of the famous one-hit shit.
Karen piloted her 16-valve yupster through the thickening early
morning traffic. She drove to her favorite regional park,
occasionally playing with the shapes of the fluffy clouds to the
sounds of blasting rock'n'roll. The promising gusts of wind earlier
had picked up to a steady breeze.
She was easily able to fit into the street side parking space
left by a suit driving a boat that didn't quite look like his
father's Oldsmobile.
Karen removed the two bags with her gear from the car and set
off on foot. Her favorite visual hallucination was immediately
operational; the clouds were false colored. The resolution improved
as she watched. Horizontal and vertical movement was highlighted to
the degree of magnitude. Movement tails were plotted against the
latlong grid on the sky that suddenly appeared. Her left eye
displayed additive color mixture and her right showed subtractive
mixture. She blinked rapidly several times before establishing gray
scale; positive on left, negative on right. With several more
blinks she tested the binocular gray of her shaded object view mode.
She switched the tactical overlay on and enjoyed the instant
replacement. Dense monochrome axial and edge lines defined the
plotted objects in her wireframe view mode. She blinked rapidly and
switched the representation color; red, orange, yellow, green, blue,
violet. Trees moving in the breeze appeared as fractal fluff. She
toyed briefly with switching visibility of the hidden lines before
halting on the small hilltop that she'd walked to. The position was
ideal for kite flying; an unobstructed hilltop with a comfortably
calm lee side. Karen willed the visual hallucination suite off.
Once Karen had unpacked everything that she needed, the special
components of her custom kite were arrayed about her in small
unitary bags. Moving lithely, she fitted the machined alloy tubes
through the fabric. With some flexing of the frame tubes, the
assembly locked into position. The dihedral looked perfect to her
practiced eye. She quickly attached her toys to the kite. This was
to be the final test of the digital camera. The stoner-friendly
components were a cinch to connect and test. The kite ready, Karen
swiftly connected the signal processor and the display to the power
pack. Her nipples hardened as she stood facing the oncoming chill
wind with the black shark kite. Once she released the two meter
long kite, it tugged aggressively to achieve altitude. The ratchet
on the reel of line stopped clicking at full extension. Karen
hooked the reel to a concrete-anchored barbecue grill. The kite
would easily stay aloft all day, given wind.
Karen plugged her goggles into the display plate. She tested
the trackball controlled lens movements. The stabilized lens mount
really cut down on vertigo. She switched through her visual
hallucination series satisfactorily with the remote device. The
view was centered downwind from her position.
Karen started looking at her surroundings in an expanding
spiral from the duck pond directly below the kite. She tarried
briefly while watching the city maintenance crew loafing near the
lake's pump housing. Only a single weather-beaten Pinto occupied
the nearest parking lot.
Karen spotted a boy walking purposefully toward the junked out
ovenmobile where an equally weathered man sat eating a burrito in
it. The boy had the eager, slightly feral look of someone exposed
to particularly harsh realities of life at too young an age.
The lad leaned in the passenger side window and apparently
spoke with the driver. As he walked away he stopped and seemed to
meet another person whom Karen hadn't noticed. The kid and the
woman walked together toward the Pinto. Both crowded at the window
briefly. Karen twiddled the controls to get maximum zoom and the
best angle. She watched something pass hands from the woman to the
driver.
Then the woman and the boy got into the car. They crowded
together in the middle of the car making detailed observation
impossible.
After a few minutes the woman and boy got out of the car. It
occurred that the similarities in appearance and expression
suggested a familial relationship. Had the kid set up a deal for
his mom?
Spiraling wider, Karen took in the surrounding neighborhood.
The immediate view was a jumble of air conditioners, fireplaces,
antennae, and dilapidated roofing. The yards proved to be barely
more interesting, with the usual domestic animals and uninspired
gardening.
Still, things were not without potential as the viewing
mechanism came to rest and Karen watched a woman stroking herself
with tanning oil. Almost as if she had willed it the elegant
woman's hand was dipping into her scant bikini bottom. The woman
gave herself over to the pleasure of it and Karen absently licked
the fine sheen of perspiration above her lips.
Peripheral motion caught Karen's attention. The Smith's
Department Store delivery van stopped at the curb in front of the
woman's house. The driver walked up to the porch and waited.
Karen scanned back to the poolside. Apparently in oblivion,
the woman had just found the extended nub of her clitoris. Karen
read her lips, "Oh...fuck...fuck me, Jim...oh...God! Fuck meee...".
Waves seemed to engulf her as she sank her hand deeper into her
cunt, making her shudder with orgasm. She relaxed on the lawn.
Apparently she hadn't noticed the delivery man standing on her
porch watching her. Karen knew that she had something here that was
better than soap operas. If this followed the hallowed script line,
the coy bitch would play kinda hard to get, yet a hot wench once
coerced into putting out. Karen watched the woman get up and face
the delivery man. The cups of her halter dangled, her proud breasts
displayed openly. The look on her face as she whipped the guilty
hand behind her back was priceless. She shook her tits and rolled
her pelvis enticingly while upholding the verbal pretense of
fighting off an over-eager admirer. He approached her and ran his
hand over her breasts. She raised her pubic mound in horny
response, "No, please, don't. I'll give you money." His immediate
reply was, "Keep it. I'll do it for free!"
Skip and Barbara introduced themselves once they were satisfied
that they were committed to fucking by the rules of the mating
ritual. Skip finger fucked Barbara briefly before helping her out
of her sodden bikini.
Barbara freed Skip's erection from his jeans and began stroking
it. She kissed and licked his cock lightly and insisted that he
fuck her. Skip knelt over Barbara, slipped his massive hardon into
her sloshing cunt, and proceeded to pump furiously.
Karen noticed what must have been neighbor kids atop the wall
at the back of Barbara's property. As she watched, two boys jumped
down and ran away. The others, a boy and a girl of about the same
age, stared unabashedly at the rutting adults.
Karen turned her attention back to Barbara and Skip. Barbara's
thrashing was either seizures, or she was coming big time. Just a
moment later, Skip began jabbing his pelvis against Barbara's crotch
with severe determination.
Following their mutual orgasm, Barbara began protesting
vociferously. Skip didn't seem deterred and Skip began licking
Barbara's tits and belly. Karen looked back at the kids on the
wall. The kids who had run away were back. They passed something
rather large to their friends on top of the wall. It was a
videocam! They got it going just as Skip started licking at
Barbara's pussy.
While continuing to lick and suck Barbara's drenched box, Skip
straddled her, positioning his dong above her mouth. Barbara
greedily mouthed his meat with abandon. Karen watched the two
lovers perform for the juvenile audience. Eventually, both came
again, but this time they collapsed afterward in exhaustion.
The sex apparently complete, Karen continued her widening
spiral scan. Karen was still hot from her shameless voyeurism. She
unzoomed and tried to chill out. It was some time before her
consciousness expanded to perceive the coverage area fully, without
effort. After a period she lost track of watching and just watched.
She felt the cold edges of eternity as the individuality of her
perception faded.
Thoroughly refreshed, Karen took off the display goggles and
arose. The ultra-stable shark wasn't as thrilling to fly by hand as
most kites, but was fun nonetheless. She unhooked the reel from the
barbecue and stood on her local hilltop, anchoring the peeping
shark. Karen was starting to become bored with the kite when she
noticed a young man approaching.
The smiling face of don Genaro was pasted over the approaching
stranger. She hated it when that happened. The Castaneda clan, who
considered her to be some kind of witch, invaded her lofty highs
periodically. Karen had to wait out the limited power of the ally
which was reduced by ignoring it. Meanwhile, in a thought bubble
over her head, an icon-sized Yaqui sorcerers apprentice scribbled in
his hilarious notebooks.
"Happy Earth Day, Karen", Genaro said.
"Piss on that", Karen said as she continued to fly her kite.
"What?", Genaro smiled.
"Happy Earth First! day", Karen replied.
"What's it matter what you call it as long as we act together
to save the planet?"
"You sound like the environmental president. Let's link arms
across Amerika and pretend. Let's pretend that someone else will
fix things. Save it for the yuppie swine."
"Okay, what're you doing?"
"Well, let me see. I'm shipping a crate of special tree
spikes, writing to imprisoned Firsters, and planting trees. And
that's today."
Unsure of the man's exact identity, she posed an insider
question, "How's the titty project"?
"Beautiful! The tiny turbofan was incredible. We got much
better performance from the zeppelin than expected. And quiet?
Almost inaudible at altitude. How's the vid?"
"It's perfect. I taped some haus frau fucking a delivery man
in her back yard over there", she said, pointing to the subdivision
next to the park. "And I wasn't the only one. The kids next door
are going to make her a local celebrity."
Still, don Genaro could have been one of several men. But,
which one? Another insider question, "And the navware?"
"Haven't heard, but that was the easiest part. I'm sure it's
go", Genaro responded.
With the realization that she was speaking to Roger Wilco, the
airframe contractor, the don Genaro face disappeared, leaving
Roger's craggy, but handsome features. The figure in the thought
bubble paused and looked up before vanishing.
"I've got a solid lead on the fundy mentalists", Roger
announced. "A church that they gather at before descending on
clinics. An OR organizer flew in for a meeting tonight."
Used to the short notice which was often involved in
monkeywrenching, Karen pressed for details, "What's their security?"
"Jesus and the parking lot lights."
"What're you doing?", Karen asked, her interest piqued.
"Placing caltrops. There should be a nearly full parking lot,
and we have enough for all. There's even enough for the helpful tow
trucks and supportive friends."
Without reservation, Karen agreed to the date. She traded
turns with Roger hauling in the peeping shark.
Karen negotiated the suburban streets according to the
instructions that she'd received. She found the health spa with
little effort. She'd passed on several previous occasions, but had
been unimpressed by the lack of business that was evident. If the
grounds were any indication, the spa wasn't doing any too well.
She parked under the shade the nearest tree to the door. The
information desk was right inside the door. Karen was pleased to be
recognized when she introduced herself to the pretty brunette.
During the time that she waited for her masseuse, Karen watched the
swimmers in the olympic pool beyond the plate glass. Several men
and a woman played hide-and-seek games enthusiastically.
Dena, who would her masseuse, was not what Karen had expected.
She was a short, plump, Latina with a kindly but deferential manner.
Dena led Karen to a private massage room.
Once the door was closed, she withdrew a small pipe and her stash of
Humboldt skunk from her purse. As she loaded the pipe she explained
to Karen, "It's an excellent high. No seeds". The women sat calmly
and puffed the bowl to dust.
Karen roused herself from her mental fog and stood, gracefully
pulling the pinafore dress over her head. Her tits jiggled
delightfully when she shook her hair out. Almost as an
afterthought, she slipped her bikini panties off and stepped out of
her sandals. She dropped all three articles of clothing on the
chair which she'd just been sitting in and and lay face on the
prepared table. Dena waited, warming the oil in hands that had
sturdy, practiced fingers. Karen hadn't taken note of Dena's covert
appreciation of her gorgeous body as she disrobed.
Starting with a sweeping arch that took in Karen's shoulders
and the upper portion of her back, Dena began. Her fingers worked
in concert to slowly knead the areas that offered resistance. Karen
felt the tension retreat as Dena worked her flesh with warm circular
pressure. Dena used delicate touches to relax Karen's neck and
scalp before turning her attentions to Karen's lower back.
Captivated by the gentle curve of Karen's sweetly freckled ass, Dena
cupped and rubbed the lovely buttocks. Karen automatically spread
her legs apart as Dena stroked her upper thighs. Dena thoroughly
rubbed Karen's shapely legs. As she proceeded toward Karen's ankles
she was overcome by the perfect picture of split tail.
Dena bent Karen's legs up at the knees and began a detailed
study of her feet. Her fingers traced every detail of Karen's toes,
arches, and heels.
Karen rolled over at the easy touch. Dena intertwined her
fingers between Karen's toes and lightly sucked and licked between
them, the while rolling her fingers along the tender arch. Karen's
erect nipples testified to her growing excitement. She arched her
back involuntarily and moaned excitedly from the wonderful sensory
overload. Dena's expert hands kneaded Karen's calf. She massaged
Karen's upper thigh and knee. Karen's legs gradually spread further
apart revealing her moist and puffy pussy. Dena rubbed the other
leg from the thigh to the knee and ankle. Finally, she gave Karen's
left foot equal treatment. While Karen relaxed, Dena moved around
to Karen's side. She made several applications of oil to Karen's
chest, manipulating her breasts gently.
Dena lost herself briefly playing with Karen's firm and shapely
tits. The well oiled mounds conformed to the constantly changing
pressure from her hands, but immediately returned to their pert
contours when released. Dena concentrated her efforts on each
breast in turn once Karen's nips came up; one hand shifting and
sliding, the other tugging and twisting the sensitive nipple. When
she could tear herself away, Dena bent over and lightly kissed each
of Karen's coral-colored nips.
Only the slightest pressure was required to prompt Karen to
reposition herself on the table. From slender feet to tapered
calves to slim thighs, Dena relished the view of Karen's shapely
legs dangling from the table. She felt nothing short of adoration
for the flower of womanly flesh nestled in Karen's downy pubes.
Dena dabbed special spice-scented oil on Karen's swollen mound,
rubbing gently around and around. She brushed the fleshy inner lips
and saw the first drops of translucent dew. With practiced strokes,
Dena manipulated the lubricated labia. She caressed the clitoral
hood with one hand while easing the index finger of the other into
the snug pussy. She tantalized the hardened pea and the delicate
labial fold. Dena added more oil and began screwing her finger in
and out of Karen's cunt; slowly at first, but faster and faster in
tempo to Karen's bucking hips and inarticulate moans. When she got
the track of Karen's approaching orgasm Dena carefully synced her
motions, until the orgasmic waves from Karen's clit and G-spot
cascaded over her repeatedly.
Dena slipped the amyl capsule from her stash while Karen
relaxed, laying back, breathing raggedly. As soon as Karen was
desensitized, Dena lowered her mouth to Karen's crotch and exhaled
warmly.
Dena reamed the point of her delicate tongue into the puckered
rosebud of Karen's asshole. Karen moaned gently and rubbed an erect
nipple between forefinger and thumb of one hand while she played
with Dena's glossy mane with the other hand. Aroused by the musky
femininity, Dena began licking the length of Karen's slit with
fervor, occasionally tugging her pussy lps gently, or nuzzling her
swollen clit. As she licked gentle circular patterns, Dena prepared
to crush the capsule. She carefully led Karen to the edge of
orgasm; hips gyrating, rolling her pussy wantonly, crazed. Karen
had just started her hard climax when she smelled the medicinal
odor. Instantly, the vasodilator hit and Dena jammed a finger in
her ass. Karen rode the forever acceleration of rocket-boosted-
orgasm nearly to seizures before it faded. She lay back, spent and
exhausted.
Dena slowly arose and walked to Karen's side where she leaned
over and cuddled the redhead gently. They snuggled briefly before
Dena patted Karen's sweet ass and stepped away to prepare the
shower.
Karen got up once she heard the water running. The shower was a
freestanding pipe in the corner with a massage shower head on a
hose. A tile sill provided a shallow basin around the drain. Karen
was captivated by the radiant smile which Dena sported as she soaped
a washcloth. Invigorated by the very scent of the lathered mint
soap as she approached, Karen slipped into the steamy shower.
Karen raised her arms and intertwined her fingers behind her
head while Dena began walking around her, rinsing her with the
needle spray hot water. When Dena hung the shower head on the pipe
Karen turned to direct the massaging water on her shoulders and
upper back. Dena knelt and eased Karen's legs apart. She gently
yet thoroughly washed the blushing snatch with the stimulating soap.
Dena turned off the shower and patted a large fluffy towel
against Karen's lightly freckled skin, drying her completely. The
two women hugged warmly before returning to Karen's clothes and a
final smoke before Karen dressed and left for the swimming pool.
Roger Wilco had all the equipment set up and tested at the safe
house before Karen arrived late in the evening. They awaited the
cabal contact who was to direct the signoff mission of the zeppelin.
Hedda Steam was an old friend of Karen's, but Roger only knew her
from construction review meetings.
Roger answered the knock at the door. The raven-haired Amerind
was as beautiful, and as businesslike, as ever. Roger led her to
the back bedroom where the computers and radios were arrayed. Karen
and Hedda embraced warmly and pecked each others cheeks. Karen
offered the first hit of red-haired sinse to Hedda, who obliged by
lighting the bong and drawing deeply. After several passes of the
pipe, the three were relaxed and ready.
The mischief was about to begin. Karen and Hedda had watched
Roger transmit the flight instructions that had allowed the zeppelin
to shadow the formation of six Bell 206 utility helicopters.
With several keystrokes, Roger selected the radio navaids to be
jammed. It was no small coincidence that the formation was
currently relying on them for navigation. With a press of the
RETURN key, programming was uploaded to the special pod which was
attached to the zeppelin.
The chopper pilots became concerned when red flags started to
extend into the faces of their radio navigation instruments. They
switched through the various VOR frequencies available to them and
found the same static everywhere.
The cabal mission outline had optimistically projected that the
malathion sprayers would abort their mission and return to base once
they could no longer rely on absolute positioning. That hope was
shattered when the lead pilot ordered continuing on visual.
"Charlie Mike", he'd called on the radio as he began the final turn,
leading the legal urban aerial poisoning of sleeping families.
Hedda nodded and Roger selected and transmitted another
program. The zeppelin began forging the signals returned by the
altitude-encoding radar transponders of the formation. Roger,
Hedda, and Karen waited a tense few minutes, listening for trouble.
When none came, Hedda nodded again and Roger sent an initiating
signal.
In an instant, the helicopters all appeared to have been
hijacked. The air traffic controllers saw the assigned squawk codes
turn to 7500 in one sweep of the interrogating radar beam.
The nightmare was only starting for the controllers. Their
calls weren't heard or returned by the formation. The pilots were
apparently getting somewhat edgy about the loss of communication as
well. Unable to communicate with one another, the pilots broke
formation according to contingency plan.
Once the formation began breaking up, the zeppelin changed the
forged squawk codes to 7700; emergency. The encoded altitude was
rapidly decreased until the signal was completely blanked. The
controllers believed that the choppers had crashed and began
responding accordingly.
Roger transmitted the final program. The zeppelin ceased all
radio interference and turned to its departure path; a secure cabal-
operated landing zone waited in the desert. The turbofan-powered
zeppelin slipped away, its anechoic coating hiding it from the radar
below and above, where the alerted interceptors snooped.
Roger, Karen, and Hedda were almost rolling on the floor in
laughter from the conversations between the malathion sprayers and
the air traffic controllers. It was going to be a very late night
for these lackeys of agribiz.
The Third Adventure
By Jim and Meg Norris
January 7, 1991
This document may be reproduced without permission, provided
it is not modified in any fashion whatsoever, and provided it
is not delivered for any price or charge.
The autumn rainstorm in Arkham was the chill drizzle in Boston
that delayed Karen's connection to Atlanta for hours.
In her faded Levis and a light blue tee, Karen Eliot was
hardly outstanding among the business women rushing to and fro in
the passenger concourse; at least in terms of wardrobe. Her
bright green eyes and flaming locks were enchanting. With no
makeup but lip gloss, her gentle beauty radiated warmth.
Within moments of finishing the action/adventure novel Karen
felt the creep of incipient boredom. Tired also of endlessly
listening to the ten cassettes that she carried, she clicked the
walkman off.
Karen slipped her paperback and walkman into her backpack.
Noting that the departure board still announced delay, she set out
for the lounge.
Not particularly interested in rebuffing pickups, Karen
steered for a table where several women drank boisterously. She
fit right in with the Marines who were swapping stories. Karen
loved their "There I was..." yarns. She drank several rounds with
the service bitches before her turn to regale them with wicked
tales of bobbing and weaving as a consultant. Karen sported a
nice glow when her flight was announced. She quickly swapped
sounds with the corporals before heading for her plane.
The boarding crew apologized for the lousy weather that
prevailed along the eastern seaboard. They didn't apologize for
the sardine-can conditions in the little airliner. Apparently
most of Karen's ninety-some fellow passengers suffered from
advanced B.O. Disembarking in Atlanta occurred not a moment too
soon.
Although she'd missed the flight to Los Angeles, her mixed
luck held. She was accommodated on another L.A. flight that had
been delayed by a squall line.
Karen sat at a midships port-side window in the TriStar. The
air conditioning, which was effective for nearly four hundred
sweating bodies, overwhelmed the mere handful of travelers seated
within Karen's sight.
Karen set her chess computer aside, marveling that the
manufacturer had the guts to rate it at 2100. Diversions finally
exhausted, she prepared to consider her pressing problems.
Pretending to sleep would keep her meditation undisturbed while
the music on the tape rolled.
She fumed at the gall of the advisory committee. She would
not be allowed to complete her grad work at Miskatonic University
if she elected to take leave and study under a shaman. The head
battle-axe raised the specter of full employment for ghostbusters.
To add insult to injury, they pointedly suggested that she work
out her conflicted loyalties during Halloween break.
Her coven, which had arranged her acceptance at Miskatonic U,
expected her to complete her studies there. Even so, she wondered
if the High Priestess would support her thesis on eigenstate
measurement/selection. Karen didn't want to kindle the arguments
between the old wicca and the young reality hackers.
Drew Blood, her working partner, and she were to take on
another layer of interface metaphor. The first layer, which
supported her status as an adept, had been installed under
hypnosis years earlier. The manual documented the keyphrase
'will, skill, tools' which defined and invoked the effect. Karen's
only upgrade, 'improvise, adapt, overcome', was barely a year old.
>From her reading of the manual on the new upgrade, 'simplicity,
sincerity, serenity', Karen wondered if a serious mistake had been
made. The documentation had no information relating to how the
upgrade would be personally useful. Although the coven approved
the change of emphasis from individual goals to universal goals,
Karen bristled. Her upcoming Samhain initiation, dependent on the
new upgrade, seemed to emphasize commitment and service.
Karen had met Mark Featherstone while doing field work in
southern New Mexico. They were both collecting mescal, but for
different reasons. Featherstone proved expert at locating and
identifying many specimens of the spineless globe-shaped cactus
for her. Karen found that his suggestions about which buttonlike
tubercles to collect were based on extensive pharmacologic
scholarship. Although the white woman and Amerind shaman were
worlds apart, a mutual respect developed and matured over the
years. As the only person that she knw outside the Miskatonic
clique with parallel knowledge, his perspective was important to
Karen. His offer to clarify some baffling aspects of her studies
was uncharacteristily forthcoming and invaluable.
Karen slept through dinner service. She felt the landing
gear drop and was fully awakened by the flap extention during the
final approach over Inglewood.
Drew Blood listened to the interminable recording about the white
zone as he waited curb-side at the terminal. The sidelong glances
from the parking patrol didn't bother Drew; he knew Karen as a
prudent air traveler. He counted on her practice of toting only
carry-on luggage.
Karen brightened when she saw Drew waiting for her in the
ugly beige heartbeat of America. Although she ascribed his
phenomenol ability to meet her to his precise divination, a simple
telephone call to the airline sufficed on this occassion.
Following a warm hug and a quick kiss, Drew swung into
traffic. He had avoided eating to have dinner with Karen. When
the subject came up, he was prepared, "Beef fajitas with jalapeno
cornbread or Tom Yum Goong?" Without hesitation, Karen proposed
the hot and sour shrimp soup. The marvelous combination of tender
shrimp floating in a rich broth, liberally spiced with chillies
and tangy with lemon grass, lime juice and citrus leaves was
Karen's favorite, as Drew well knew.
Drew showed Karen around the walkup above the misnamed five-
and-dime which was only minutes from the airport. "It's mostly an
excuse for the BBS", he admitted. Sitting on the top shelf in a
closet was a computer, a hard disk, and two modems. Karen noted
the lack of a monitor and keyboard, assuming that Drew used a
laptop on one of the serial ports to do his sysop thing. The
remainder of the closet was stuffed with earthquake supplies.
The motion sensors and the demon dialer enhanced the
functional, yet unlived-in quality common to safe houses.
Karen relaxed in the small living room following Drew's tour
of the flat. The expectant look on her face prompted Drew to
proffer the package that he'd picked up on his way to the airport.
Karen opened the pharmacy sack and extracted the bronchial
inhaler. The asthma prescription appeared genuine, but she knew
better. The mouthpiece in place, Karen pressed the canister into
the base. She inhaled deeply as the fine spray was discharged.
Karen's initial suspicion that she hadn't gotten a hit was
dispelled by a coughing fit. Drew declined her motioned offer.
Thoroughly stoned, Karen rested the inhaler on the empty coffee
table.
Unwilling to succumb to lethargy, Karen arose and made for
the kitchen. Drew had all the materials on hand for either meal,
even the seemingly hard-to-find fresh lemon grass. The sixers of
Singha and Dosxx in the fridge brightened Karen further. They
quickly agreed on the division of labor and began preparing
dinner.
Drew juiced two small limes as Karen laid out vegetables from
the crisper. She cut zest from the rind when he was through.
Waiting for her to open up about their predicament, he heated a
small amount of oil in a saucepan.
"It's an issue of choice to me", Karen began. Drew accepted
the emphasis she applied, chopping lemon grass to one inch
lengths. "How somebody else could know what's best for me boggles
my mind. To coerce me into obedience is one thing, but the most
unkind cut of all is to be expected to agree and like it."
Drew dropped shrimp shells into the hot oil, watching for
them to turn pink, listening to Karen continue. "Who should
determine what I learn?", she asked while vigorously chopping
several green onions. "Me!", she concluded, looking to Drew who
was slivering green and red chillies.
"You accepted their role in your development", Drew reminded
her as he stirred the mixture of chicken stock, salt, lemon grass,
citrus leaves, lime rind, and green chillies in the saucepan.
"Their guidance has been good. Perhaps the older, wiser heads do
have a good reason", he suggested.
Karen watched Drew cover and set the saucepan to simmer after
bringing it to a boil. "If they do have a good reason, and it's
wrong for me, it's no skin off their asses", she observed.
"Where else are you going to study the _Necronomicon_?".
"I don't know Drew, but I draw the line at dogmatic
conformity. 'What is good, Phaedrus, and what is not good - need
we ask anyone to tell us these things", Karen quoted. "Excuse me.
I'm going to get a shower".
After luxuriating under the hot fingers of the shower
massage, Karen rejoined Drew, who was busy straining the soup
through a sieve. "What about you Drew", she asked, approaching
him. "What do you want to do?"
Drew returned the mix to the saucepan and brought it to a
boil. "My path is not dictated by another, nor is it dependent",
he said as he added the shrimp and cooked them for several minutes
in the stock. "The university administration suffers from an
inherent flaw of Authority: 'The company takes what the company
wants and nothing's as precious as a hole in the ground'. This
isn't even personal. It's just rules."
After reducing the heat, Drew added fish sauce and lime juice
to the simmering soup. He stirred it and immediately removed it
from the heat. "Our thesis is a collaboration", Karen reminded
him. "What'll you do?", she asked as Drew retrieved their beers
from the fridge.
Karen poured the soup in a tureen. Drew sprinkled it with
red chillies, coriander leaves, and green onions as he replied.
"I've held back some work on multidimensionality. Maybe that and
some fresh ideas on chaos. Perhaps the attenuation of magic. I'm
not sure, but it's not a problem. I wonder if the University of
California has room for a magician in its Interrelation of
Conceptual Structures program?"
Karen carried the tureen to the table, serving the soup
piping hot. Drew lit the candle and they seated themselves. By
long convention the two observed a companionable silence as they
dined.
After dinner Drew revealed the dessert that he'd gotten while
at the Thai market. Sticky rice, coconut milk, and banana strips
were wrapped within banana leaves. Instead of steaming the
delights, Drew 'waved them while he and Karen carried the dishes
from the small dining area to the sink.
Drew considered how to breach the subject of the impending
upgrade to their interface metaphors as the fragrant Khaw Tom Pud
cooled. Karen had benefited greatly from personal control of her
cognitive faculties as if they were software. She was naturally
reluctant to share that control; even with the people who had made
it possible.
"Are you ready for the shrink shop?" asked Drew jocularly.
He wasn't fond of the unbecoming appelation for the wetware techs,
but aimed to draw Karen out.
"No. I'm really uncertain about it. It doesn't sound like
such a good idea to me."
"What's the hangup?"
"Their hands on my reins."
"Does loyalty influence you? Have they given you reason for
mistrust?"
Karen quoted Thomas Paine. "Let them call me rebel and
welcome, I feel no concern from it; but I should suffer the
misery of devils, were I to make a whore of my soul..."
"It's not like you haven't been through this before."
"Can we be sure that after this upgrade we'll be inclined
toward the same selfish perspective in considering future
upgrades?"
"Have you considered favorable aspects?" Drew asked.
"Frankly, no. Maybe Madge and Tar can fill that area in."
Drew dropped the subject and concentrated on washing the
dishes and tidying the kitchen while Karen got stoned and watched
headline news.
Karen and Drew, according to a fond habit, read in bed until
sleepy. Drew set his engineering manual aside in mere minutes.
He rested undisturbed as Karen turned and twisted her way through
the thriller that gripped her attention.
Karen dropped the novel to the floor and extinguished the dim
headboard lamp. She spooned in behind Drew, pressing herself into
him and resting her head on the pillow beside his. She shared his
warmth, feeling his slow and even breathing beside her.
Unable to find sleep through ordinary methods, Karen let
herself drift, recalling among other things her association with
Drew.
She and Drew had first crossed paths in their final year of
high school. In a case that had elicited support from the ACLU,
the school administration had suppressed a news story in the
school newspaper. Karen's investigation of corruption in an
alderman's office was explosive. Her story was backed up by
Drew's second-story work which gained solid evidence. The cabal
didn't care that the school won; it exploited the opportunity by
awarding Karen and Drew college scholarships.
The cabal extended a Segretti Fellowship to Drew for altering
the circuitry of E-Meters at the Church of Scientology during
black-bag snoops. His discoveries in the Guardian's Office had
been the springboard to Karen's research into the methods utilized
to penetrate and manipulate the FBI. Karen found the large cash
payment for that particular report to be very useful.
Karen's reminiscences turned to the Pirate Fucking Radio
project. The cabal had needed volume cost reductions on zeppelin
production. Drew presented the proposal and Karen presented the
plan. Fidel Castro jumped at the chance to broadcast The Voice of
Jose Marti into the American west coast radio/television market.
The cost of replacing the unmanned broadcast zeppelins which were
destroyed by federal forces was well below revenues. Lack of
regulation and taxes did the rest. Drew and Karen had received
credit for recouping in spades the autonomous aircraft's
development cost.
Karen slipped lightly from bed and shouldered her backpack which
she always kept bedside. She adjourned to living room where she
could consult her cards.
Karen spread a large silk scarf on the floor and sat cross-
legged before it. She first selected the Major Arcana from her
Wonderland tarot deck. She set the remaining cards aside on the
scarf.
Images and bits of her concern floated and whirled without
direction as she shuffled the twenty-two trumps.
She laid out ten cards in a standard cross pattern and sat
for several minutes considering the meanings conveyed by the
reading.
The Fool, in the position to indicate forthcoming influences,
was the image of a spirit totally free, courageously leaping into
some new phase of life. Death, placed to indicate her present
situation, signified a time of change. The Sun, as a final
outcome, described happiness and a great sense of the beauty of
life. Karen took these cards to mean that the successful
transition, far from being in question, was in progress.
The Hermit, positioned to indicate her previous influences,
bespoke her recent withdrawal for intense study. The High
Priestess, in a position to reveal how other people viewed Karen,
showed that they accepted her inner wisdom and strong intuition.
The Hanged Man, as a measure of her hopes and fears, addressed
Karen's antipathy to loosing her educational investment. Karen
accepted these cards as confirming the context of her inquiry.
The Magician, describing what Karen was experiencing,
illustrated the creator in the act of creation, and additionally
a shaman or shamanism. The Devil, positioned to indicate the
obstacles that crossed the Magician, adequately described Karen's
feeling of being chained to controlling obsessions. Together,
these cards defined the conflict for Karen.
The Hierophant, in position to indicate what was really
behind the surface situation, represented education in general,
and her own inner sense of direction.
The Empress, positioned to express what was in plain sight,
puzzled Karen. The usual meaning of a mother figure didn't seem
to fit. The card depicted the knitting Sheep gliding along in a
little boat. Karen recalled the episode from _Through The Looking
Glass_. The Sheep was the proprietress of an odd shop with all
manner of curious things. When Alice became confused by the vast
array of wares, the Sheep's shop transformed. Alice found herself
in the boat with the Sheep, rowing with knitting needles on the
queer water. The Sheep finally urged Alice to make up her mind
after indulging Alice's curiosity at length. The egg that Alice
eventually bought from the Sheep became Humpty Dumpty. It was
Humpty Dumpty who was poised atop the wall in The Sun, a card of
satisfaction, accomplishment, and success - the card which in this
case indicated the culmination and results of all the influences
revealed by the other cards.
Karen wrapped her cards within the scarf and stowed them
within the little pouch in her backpack. With her mind at ease,
she slipped back to bed. Drew absentmindedly put an arm around
her, drawing her close. Karen subvocalized a post-hypnotic
suggestion to arise relaxed and refreshed, before drifting off to
a sound and restful sleep.
Karen was still sleeping when Drew awoke to the early morning
light with a woody. The exquisite shape of her tits was neither
diminished by reclining, nor obscured by her T-shirt. Drew
considered her flat belly and shapely legs concealed by the sheet.
Inspired, and knowing how Karen appreciated a wake-up fuck, he
proceeded to slowly arose her.
Drew tenderly cupped a pert breast and kissed Karen's neck.
The low moan was encouraging. He gently manipulated the firm
flesh. Once the nip came up he rolled it between thumb and
forefinger. With a final squeeze, Drew released Karen's breast
and rested his hand on her pubic mound.
He softly rubbed her downy pubes through the bikini. Karen
rolled her hips slightly and murmured approval. Slipping beneath
the elastic band, Drew rubbed her thickening pad with his
fingernails. At the merest touch to her sparsely furred puffy
lips, Karen eased her legs apart. Drew's hardon throbbed as he
massaged Karen's pussy through the dampenng fabric. When he
pushed the crotch aside and lay his fingers along her slit, he was
met with a little shudder and a more insistent moan.
With a finger along either side of the long hood, Drew felt
the hard clit within. His gentle manipulations were met by the
little smacking sounds of a well-lubed cunt.
Repositioning himself, Drew tugged at Karen's panties as she
daintily raised her hips to help him remove them. Karen held the
sheet up with one hand so that Drew could breath and with the
other she pushed his face into her crotch. Drew's beard stubble
chaffed her thighs as she gently crossed her ankles, completing
the loose scissor lock on his willing head.
Supported by his elbows, Drew massaged Karen's engorged outer
lips with his forefingers. He nibbled and tugged her fleshy inner
lips before getting down to serious licking.
Drew ran his tongue the length of Karen's slit, occasionally
pushing deep into her hole or tickling her extended clitty.
Karen's rhythmically gyrating hips and inarticulate moans coaxed
him onward.
He probed her drenched vagina with one thumb and rubbed her
asshole with the other as his tongue variously flicked or rubbed
her turgid clitoris.
Karen approached orgasm several times, but Drew would change
his stimulation to deny her. When she could stand it no more, she
squeezed his head playfully between her thighs. Drew increased
the tempo of his licking, concentrating on her clit. With pushing
and screwing motions, he massaged the roughly textured walls of
her cunt with an index finger.
Drew synchronized his efforts as Karen's breathing became
rapid and shallow. Karen arched her back and came with a tremble,
clenching Drew's finger repeatedly with diminishing force.
Karen took only an an instant to select a position. She
wanted to be ballsy in the upcoming discussions. Being on top
would encourage a more active role, a sense of superiority, a
feeling of free movement, and a sense of doing whatever she
wished. Drew was a real bonus for face-to-face fucking; he would
read her face and express, he had beautiful brown eyes, and he
could kiss. Best of all, he had the cock discipline for lap
fucking. "May I sit in your lap, love?" she asked.
Drew sat facing Karen with his legs apart, enthusiasm evident
from his smile and throbbing penis. His answer was eagerly
outstretched arms.
Karen snuggled in close to Drew, with her legs over his and
behind him. She insured that they were both comfortable, without
undue stress on their limbs. With her nose alongside Drew's,
Karen looked deeply into his eyes as they embraced. The warmth
that she saw said 'friend' and more.
She was excited by her musk on his mouth while their skillful
tongues wrestled playfully. The warm and creamy feeling
intensified with Drew's hot cock against her belly and his lightly
haired chest pressing her tits.
Karen eased back and grasped the base of Drew's dick.
Moisture glistened on the head before she began rubbing her pussy
with it. She moved closer, angling her hips up. With each stroke
of his dick along her wet slit, Karen would tantalize Drew by
squeezing the head lightly with her snatch, then rub him up and
around her extended clit.
Drew stifled his desire to push into Karen, awaiting the
delicious torture of her ultra-slow entry. Instead, he hugged her
warmly, one arm around her waist and lower back, the other just
below her shoulders.
Karen tightly clenched her vagina as she rested more and more
of her weight on Drew's cock. With only the slightest relaxation
she gradually slid down Drew's meaty pole, accompanied by
something between a sigh and a moan.
Once she was filled with Drew's hot hardness, Karen hungrily
joined with him in a deep and passionate kiss that was destined to
occupy them for the duration.
Karen pulled herself taut to afford Drew maximum stimulation
with only slight movement. She used calculated pelvic movements
of yaw, pitch, and roll to accentuate her motion along the length
of his shaft.
Karen built their excitement to all-encompassing and
nearly explosive before easing slightly, relaxing briefly with
Drew's dick buried in her to the hilt.
Karen eased back a little, raising herself and locking his
bulbous dick head against her G-spot. She began a serpentine
massage of his penis with her vaginal muscles, deliciously
stimulating their most erogenous flesh.
Karen felt Drew's impending orgasm as his balls drew tight in
the palm of her hand and his breathing became insistent. She
brought herself to the edge and kicked off the simultaneous
explosion.
Drew forcefully pumped his load deep into Karen's quivering
cunt. Karen's orgasm expelled a copious fluid discharge which
mixed with Drew's semen and drained over his softening cock,
drenching the bed.
Karen broke the deep kiss and snuggled against Drew, pulling
herself to him, nestling her head against his neck. Their frantic
heartbeats and ragged breathing normalized during their long
embrace. The cooling wet spot under them encouraged an effort to
dry off with a fluffy towel which Drew had thoughtfully provided.
Following a brief shower, Karen and Drew breakfasted on
heuvos rancheros at a nearby taquiera. It was on the walk back
that Drew excused himself until late afternoon to pursue personal
business.
Karen welcomed the opportunity to relax. Unused to the slack
time in her study schedule, she made the best of it; loafing
about, reading a novel that Drew had left on his nightstand.
By mid-afternoon Karen was eager for something more active.
It struck her as an ideal time to practice her exercises.
Karen's pulse quickened as she considered the upcoming delight.
She stepped lightly, considering Fizzlebot's purple egg. As far
as it was from being a simple stone, it was no closer to being a
jewel.
Karen had worked briefly with the independent inventor to
develop an aerogel from sand which the coven provided. The wispy,
nearly transparent solid was extremely porous, with only three or
four times the density of dry air. Fizzlebot nicknamed the high-
strength, ultralight stuff 'purple fuzzle'. His guess that the
fuzzle was used to stabilize fusion fuels under laser blast
inspired his fruitless experiments with the surplus aerogel. He
presented Karen with a brilliant violet ovoid as a souvenir.
Karen undressed, tossing her clothes in a pile next to her
backpack on the bedroom floor. She sat on the edge of the bed,
legs apart, with her feet flat on the floor.
Karen's fingertips barely touched the skin around her nipples
as she gently rotated them very slowly in outward circular
motions. Shortly, she responded to the invigorating stimulation,
playing with the firm fluid movement of her breasts.
Warmth spread throughout her genitals, puffing her mound and
lightly-haired outer lips. Karen kneaded the softness of her
pussy while she maintained the gentle manipulation of her breasts,
occasionally twisting or tweaking a sensitive nip.
Her wattled inner labia were dusky pink, striated with tan.
As her sexual energy built, they felt more flush and moist, and
looked redder. Karen smeared the abundant juices forming at her
hole over the fleshy lips.
Karen began a rhythmic pressure against the hood of her clit
with a single fingertip. Fully engorged, it poked from beneath
the hood. She directed the concentration and flow of her
developing sexual energy, bringing it to a shuddering orgasm and
an instant of transcendence.
Karen withdrew the egg from a pouch in her backpack. Eugene
Fizzlebot couldn't explain why it radiated warmth. As for the
pleasure of contact with it, Fizzlebot mumbled something about
piezoelectricity, but didn't even seem very convinced about it
himself.
She stood and assumed the practice stance; her feet
shoulders' width apart and firmly grounded, ankles and knees bent,
groin folded, spine and neck in alignment.
She splayed her succulent lips with the fingers of one hand
and eased the egg into her vagina, wider end first. By isolating
and contracting her external vaginal orifice tightly, she grasped
the egg and relished the pleasant feelings from the it before
beginning to move it with her internal musculature.
The movement up and down her vagina was, as always, the
easiest. Karen clenched, raising the egg slightly, then holding
it for a moment, before relaxing enough to allow the egg to
descend to the original position. She completed half a dozen slow
repetitions of the exercise, regulating the squeezing to her
inhalations.
Karen drew the egg up in front f her cervix and held it
there before beginning the more challenging lateral exercises.
She moved the egg from side to side several times as well as
tilting it from top to bottom. After half a dozen full movement
repetitions of the exercise, she relaxed and allowed the egg to
descend.
Satisfied with herself, Karen expelled the egg from her cunt
and wiped it clean before replacing it within its pouch. She
rested briefly with the palm of her hand on her warm snatch,
drawing strength from her workout.
Karen was ready to leave when Drew arrived, which was convenient
because he had parked in metered street-side parking. She was
somewhat surprised about the little red Lotus which Drew was
using. His story was that he was evaluating the autos pre-
production systems.
In about half an hour Drew was off the freeway and into the
winding canyon country. While the ride was much smoother than
Karen was used to in a sportster, the cornering roll was all but
non-existent. Four-wheel power and active suspension almost
entirely eliminated slip.
Drew routinely entered the curves at around three times the
posted speed, practically standing on the four-wheel antilock
brakes in the final moments of the approach. The power-shift
manual gear box thumped heavily an instant before the brutal
acceleration announced the corner exit at multiples of the speed
limit.
Once established on the final straightaway, Drew opened the
throttle all the way. When the tach indicated red-line revs, he
shifted into neutral and idled the engine. They coasted the last
mile or so to the unpaved turnoff.
Madge Nation, and her husband Tar Nation lived in the ranch-
style house a couple miles down the well-maintained gravel road.
Madge was in the driveway when Karen and Drew arrived at the head
of a rooster tail of rising dust.
Madge greeted her guests and led them around back and down
the path to the sweat lodge.
The domed, one-room structure was crafted from a dozen
willows. Timbers demarked the cardinal and minor compass points.
Half a dozen paces from the lodge, Tar tended rock loaves on
a metal grill. With hands protected by heavy padded gloves he
turned the hot rocks above low blue flames. He waved as they
approached.
Madge stopped at the gazebo which had been fashioned entirely
within the interlocking branches of five bushy trees. Benches,
hooks, and baskets were available for clothing and personal
articles.
Madge removed her robe. Drew appreciated her small breasts
with pale and outstanding nips and her diminutively trimmed
platinum bush as she stowed the robe and pulled the bong from a
clever niche. She handed it to Karen, who was already down to her
matching black lace bra and panties. Karen took a couple of long
hits as she appreciated Drew disrobing.
Goose flesh started to form about the time Madge, Karen, and
Drew felt stoned and longed for the warmth of the lodge. Tar
joined them for a hit once he had finished transferring the hot
rocks to a ceramic pedestal in the sweat lodge. Tar secured the
bong and led his friends down the path.
Tar held open the heavy flaps of thick hide which were draped
over the arched doorway of the hut.
Madge waited until everybody was comfortable and relaxed
before breaking the silence. She spoke in a formal tone. "Most
people demand behavioral controls imposed by an authority
structure. Tar and I empathize with your rejection of external
direction." She paused for a moment before continuing. "Helen
Gone argued against the university because their position stemmed
from convenience of administration."
Karen leaned forward and lay a sage sprig on the hot rocks.
She considered the implications that arose from the High Priestess
being personally involved. The cup of water that she poured over
the sage on the rocks disappeared in a quick bubbling and hissing.
Tar continued as the aromatic vapor diffused. "We have good
news and bad news", he joked. "Which would you like first?"
"Bad", Drew asked simply.
"Karen, you won't be awarded your degree if you insist on
having your way. Same for you, Drew, if you stick with Karen."
Drew added several cedar chips to the rocks and trickled
water over them. He pondered this, awaiting the good news as the
redolent vapor rose from the rocks.
"You will, however, be allowed to stay on and continue your
studies to your satisfaction," Tar said and then waited.
Karen exhaled slowly. "Well", she began and paused. "That's
awfully damn nice of them."
"Would you like the good news?", Tar teased.
"I could use some."
"Here," Tar said, offering Karen and Drew their choice of
trippers.
The glass tubes, each enclosing a vaporizing wire that was
coated with designer halucinogen, were the keys to Miskatonic U's
ex nihilo lab and its gates.
Tar was the first to press the firing stud on the handle of
his tripper. With a pop and a bluish-white flash, a cloud formed
within the tube. "There's something I'd like to show you," he
said, and sucked the vapor through a semipermeable membrane in one
end of the tube.
Karen, Drew, and Madge emulated Tar's example. The massive
L+ doses hit some before others. They waited and the shared
environment formed; cold and dreary, and suggesting ancient
enmity.
Madge promised a short walk and all set off. Concealed
within the thick fog which surrounded them, giant arthropod
monsters waited. Vaguely insectiod (or occasionally aracnid,
crustacean, and myriapod), they had eviscerating hooks,
decapitating pincers, barbed impaling stalks, bad breath, and bug
eyes. And that was the males. The females also had armor-
piercing ovipositors not unlike scorpion tails.
Arriving at the gate area, Karen and Drew assumed a
defensive parameter while Madge and Tar worked at dilating the
gate.
Originally armed with vorpal swords, Karen and Drew were
prepared to face the Jabberwock itself. However, when the
rattling chitin and pungent presence encircled them, they
reconsidered. Karen conjured a full-auto, belt-fed shotgun. She
used plastic ball bugshot for the spectacular effect it had
against exoskeletons. (Losing much of their energy penetrating
the shell, the balls shredded internal organs as they ricochetted
around inside.) Drew muscled a small rotary-barrel cannon which
used conventional warloads.
Tar and Madge had succeeded in tagging the gate with a dayglo
border, but attempts to tease it open were in vain.
When the fog shifted it revealed the massed and closing
terrors, most dripping slime or venom. Without hesitation, Karen
and Drew opened fire, weaving a curtain of murderous projectiles
to the staccato thunder of their automatic weapons. They adroitly
avoided each others crossfire and ammunition belts. When they
ceased firing, drifting cordite odor mixed with the humid charnel
stench. Antennae and legs attached to broken carapace jerked
mindlessly. Ichor pooled among the shattered bodies and spent
cartridges all aroundtthem. Meanwhile, the gate had opened under
Madge's gentle ministrations.
Madge and Tar first stepped into the uniform gray beyond the
gate and disappeared. Drew waited for Karen to file through. The
first step was easy, but a resistance pressed back against her.
She had to redouble her efforts several times to penetrate the
surface tension. Once she began to clear the gate, Karen felt the
numb of nulled sensorium. She'd been warned about the shocking
emptiness, yet panic still nipped at her heels.
Karen's second step brought her through the gate. The cold
flagstone floor surprised her as an unexpected stair might. Her
ears popped as she swallowed the lump in her throat. Regaining
her composure, Karen took stock of her surroundings.
Fluorescent fixtures hung at regular intervals from the high
ceiling. Movable partitions divided the immense room.
Karen watched the dayglo border of the gate fade, and with it
the gray fog beyond.
Madge and Tar had already donned heavy terry robes and
slippers. The crisp chill imparted to the room by the thick stone
walls inspired Karen and Drew to follow suit.
Madge opened the heavy drapes before the tall doors, lighting
the large chamber with brilliant afternoon sunshine. Tar opened
the glass doors and stepped out on a small semicircular balcony.
"Welcome to Amber," he announced with a low bow and a gesture
which took in the city below.
Just outside, gardeners dressed in Renaissance-era clothing
tended an area with familiar flowers, trees, and shrubs. Looking
about, Karen observed that she was in a castle built on the
shoulder of a mountain. Above and behind her, ponderosa and blue
spruce made up the most of the thick tree life. Below, the
balcony overlooked the picturesque city of Amber and the
glittering harbor.
Houses of stone, brick, or wood, an occasional whitewashed
plastered wall, the odd thatched roof, and the rare stone mansion
dominated the view of the eastern portion of the city. The
southernmost part of the city merged with the trees that led
eventually into the forest and out into the countryside.
Tar handed a pair of binoculars to Karen and began to
describe the predominantly commercial western section of Amber.
"See that wide cobblestone street that swings southeastwards and
then eastwards, marking the boundaries of the city?" Tar asked.
Without waiting, he carried on. "That's the Main Concourse. It's
the place of business for most Amber merchants". Karen looked at
the busy shops, cafes, and restaurants; deals being made, goods
being purchased, and merchants trying to shout their
advertisements.
Karen handed the binox to Drew as Tar described the
fascinating activity in the harbor. "The port area is unsafe,
unsavory, and dangerous. Harbor Road gives way to Death Alley
over there," he said, pointing.
Drew scrutinized the industrious port. Barges full of wares
were bustling between warehouses both large and small, and between
the docks which dotted the harbor. Several barks were being
unloaded. Sailors on one large schooner were rigging staysails
off the mizzenmast.
Madge joined her friends on the balcony. She handed them
white metallic cards, upon which she had written their names in
exquisite calligraphy. The flip side of the cards was devoted to
the standard glyph for Information Hazards; the anterior view of
the human eye, with a seductive spiral fractal within the iris.
"These security keys will unlock doors with adjacent card
slots," Madge said. With emphasis, she continued. "Don't open
doors without card readers. Ever."
"Just carry them with you," Tar suggested. "Since you can't
go anywhere without them." He dropped his in the pocket of his
robe. "Let's take a look around," he said, leading the expedition
from the balcony.
"This is the hardware lab," Tar indicated with an
encompassing gesture.
"In the northeast corner is the laminar-flow rooms. The IC
fab people have diffusion furnaces, chemical vapor deposition
systems, as well as lithography and etching equipment. They're
kept pretty busy making wafers of pirated circuitry.
"The containment dome next to the lam-flow building houses
the power kernel, shielding, transformers, and the like.
"The systems prototypers use most of the rest of the layout.
Currently, they're turning out 32-bit microprocessor-based
computers. They're rack-mounted and ugly as hell, but with the
different semiconductors, they run at ten times the clock
frequencies you can do back home."
Arriving at the armored door, Tar pushed his card into the
reader. The powered door slid slowly into its pocket within the
reinforced wall, and closed heavily behind them.
The group followed Tar down a thoroughly featureless hallway.
Just to the left of the grand staircase, they used the servants'
stairway in the northwest corner of the castle. Tar led his
friends down two flights of stairs. Many of the doors which were
immediately visible on the second floor had card locks.
Madge led the coterie down another long hall to a pair of
double doors. The doors swung inward after the presentation of
her card, and they entered the sparsely furnished library.
Warm sunlight suffused the library through the four inset,
floor-to-ceiling windows along the west side of the room.
"Usually this is a place of relaxation and study for members
of the royal family," Tar stated. "Generally, however, they avoid
us. It is strongly suggested that we reciprocate." Karen
recognized the usual response to I-hazards.
Madge showed them the three tall stacks that extended from
the north wall and smaller shelves and smaller tables which lined
the west wall. A desk sat in the center of the north section, and
a larger double table sat under the southwest windows. A
comfortable sofa and chair sat in front of the banked fire.
The ubiquitous card key slot was the only clue to the
decorative false panel in the southwest corner of the library.
Madge motioned Karen to try her card on the lock. With a snick,
the panel eased open enough to pull. Karen followed Madge up the
dimly lit stairway to the upper level where her card was again
necessary.
As the panel closed behind the women, Tar led Drew to a
section devoted to Shadow Earth. A computer workstation had the
Great Books of the Western World on optical disk. "Merely a quick
reference," teased Tar. Nearby, stacks contained complete sets of
St. Augustine, Chaucer, Shakespeare, Cervantes, Montaigne,
Machiavelli, Castiglione, Sidney, Bacon, Ben Johnson, Samuel
Johnson, Hegel, Heidegger, Newton, Einstein, Pope, Boccaccio,
Milton, Rabelais, and Virgil. First editions of seminal works
from ancient to postmodern took up proximate stacks.
Madge led Karen along the walkway which extended around the
perimeter of the upper level. Tracked ladders reached the highest
shelves near the ceiling.
The entrance to the study room was cleverly concealed from
view below. As Madge stepped across the threshold a gentle
bioluminescence lit the small room evenly. There was barely room
around te table and chairs to get to the books on the shelves
along all walls. The _Necronomicon_, companion volumes, and
commentaries absorbed Karen's attention. "I'd bet my postsynaptic
membranes that the complete Curwen collection of thaumaturgical,
alchemical, and theological works is here," Karen remarked,
following Madge from the alcove.
They passed empty shelves along the walkway before arriving
at another recess. In a glass case a single volume lay
illuminated by a lamp within. Karen immediately opened the
unsecured case and removed the _Handbook For The Recently Deceased_.
She'd long wanted a glance at "The Handbook", or "The Manual" as
it was sometimes known. She quickly turned to the intermediate
interface chapter on haunting to see just how detailed an
explanation was in fact there. "It reads like stereo
instructions," Karen commented as she replaced the volume and
followed Madge.
Madge and Karen rejoined Tar and Drew by the large marble
fireplace on the west wall. Tar's continuing explanation of the
library request and procurement system answered Karen's questions
about the mint condition of the books. Beyond explanation was the
posthumous editions section. She'd seen still-boxed unknown works
by Brautigan, Hellman, Maugham, Abbey, Steinbeck, and P.K. Dick,
among others.
Madge directed the tour of the guest apartments at the north
end of the second floor. The hospitable domicile was complete
with sitting, sleeping, and dining areas as well as a small
library which seemed devoted to quantum mechanics and associated
arcana.
The bedroom reminded Karen of a first-rate residence hotel.
Drew bounced on the satin sheeted bed which was as
comfortable as it appeared. "So, what's the project here?"
Madge indulged in the luxury of the love seat. "Software
development for the Crown. All the hardware billets are filled."
Karen sat at the small writing table across from the bed and
regarded the fresh cut flowers in the crystal vase. "Yeah?"
Tar lounged in the chair adjacent to the night stand. "We're
building a reality editor."
"A what?" Karen asked.
"You know. Cut, paste, add, delete, change. The usual" Madge
answered.
"Is this artificial intelligence?" Drew suspiciously
inquired.
"Nah," replied Tar. He continued wryly. "That's
specifically prohibited by the contract. It seems that their
first attempt resulted in a rogue consciousness."
"Then how?" Karen wanted to know.
Madge took up the explanation. "Limited domain, iterative
techniques. Purely procedural code. Brute fuckin' force. You
can hack your way up to speed on the metaprogramming language
pretty quickly."
Karen mulled that over. "What's functional?"
Madge smiled broadly before answering. "Oe module. Fun
with billboards, bumper-stickers, and graffiti. You should have
been here the night that I replaced the text 'to protect and
serve' with 'tool of the rich man' wherever it occurred on squad
cars back home."
With an even bigger grin, Tar mischievously interrupted.
"Shit hit the fan. Even a new rule. No more RE tests on Shadow
Earth. Bellona only now, which almost takes the fun out of it,"
he concluded with a wink.
"What's the hitch?" Drew probed.
"We want to ensure that expansion of the operating envelope
doesn't bite us in the ass," Madge responded. "The next project
mandate is a 'no tricks' safety module. Apparently they watch
Twilight Zone when in Shadow Earth."
"Anyway," Tar said, "You should sleep on it. This little
trick of somatic projection is about to fail. When it does, you
will regain consciousness back home. It's best if you're asleep
when it happens."
"How much longer?" Karen inquired.
"A couple of hours, tops."
Madge and Tar excused themselves, leaving Karen and Drew
alone for the first time since their arrival in Amber.
Karen arose from the small table and joined Drew by the bed.
"What do you think?" she asked him, doffing her robe. Turning the
down comforter back, she couldn't discern what kept it from
sliding off the sheets.
While fluffing the pillow, Karen noticed the hawk feather
bound to a chunk of turquoise with a hide band which was lying on
the sheet. She stared at the token, her attention captivated.
"They're playing with a fusion torch," Drew answered as he
dropped his robe with hers. "Somebody's gonna get burned," he
said, following her gaze. "What do you think?"
When their eyes met, Karen shook her head fractionally and
dropped the pillow, covering the token. "Who could be trusted
with this thing? I don't see resolving that issue within the
context of a safety module."
Following Karen's apparent lead, Drew dropped the
conversation and snuggled next to her in the regal bed.
They rolled to their backs from the warm spoon. Karen
initiated an old game for descent to sleep. She wrapped her
slender fingers around Drew's limp hose, which began hardening
immediately. Karen wanted to fall asleep with Drew still
throbbing in her fist, before he fell asleep and softened in her
grasp. Drew wanted to fall asleep rigid in Karen's hot palm,
before she fell asleep and her grip failed.
While usually successful, the technique couldn't overcome
deep tension. Karen commenced a standard variation to get the
game back on track. She soothingly released Drew's penis and
cupped his balls, massaging and rolling them within their hairy
sack. Tickling his scrotum with her long fingernails brought
Drew's member to throbbing rigidity.
Karen rubbed the shaft of Drew's veiny cock with fingertips
and nails, bringing his excitement to fever pitch. She teased a
glob of ooze from his purple helmet and spread it all over the
bulbous head, playing with its firmness.
Karen encircled Drew's engorged manhood and began pumping.
Slowly at first, and then faster, she twisted and tugged his cock
with supple fingers. Drew signaled his oncoming orgasm with
insistently bucking hips as he fucked her hand ever faster.
As Drew exploded in orgasm, Karen contained his load by
clamping her thumb and forefinger just below the head of his cock.
She held tightly through the rhythmic pulsations of his
ejaculation.
As Drew lay back, Karen slipped under the covers. She locked
her mouth around his dick and released the clamp, draining his hot
thick seed and swallowing it. She milked the residual jism and
licked it off, smacking her lips contentedly.
Karen lay on her back next to Drew holding his hand, fingers
intertwined, until he reciprocated.
Drew rested the palm of his hand on Karen's trimmed pubic
patch, rubbing her mound in a circular pattern. His fingers
traced from the mons along the length of her puffy outer lips.
Her fleshy inner lips were engorged, slick with plentiful juices.
With his long middle finger he distributed the creamy
lubrication around her erect clit which poked from beneath its
hood.
With an index finger, Drew slowly rubbed one side of the
hood, stimulating the clit indirectly, tracing small spirals on
the sensitive skin.
When Karen's bucking hips and rapid breathing announced her
undeniable orgasm, Drew increased his pace slightly. Karen came
with a pleased moan and relaxed, Drew's warm hand resting on her
quivering pussy.
Karen reached over and resumed the game by grasping Drew's
hardening penis. They both fell asleep nearly immediately,
thoroughly relaxed.
"- long have we been away?," Karen heard Drew asking as the
primacy of her presence in the sweat lodge reasserted itself.
"Only a moment," Tar answered. "The standard hit is two
hours, with a yield of six months on the other side of the gate.
Time dilation is the chief benefit of transfer contracts. A
session each in the morning and afternoon, five days a week,
amounts to an effective extention to your life of five years."
"It's easy to loose your perspective," Madge continued.
"The point of the upgrade is to provide an anchor or sorts; an
orientation to this plane. If you abandon your body it'll die,
and with it the projection through the gate. Believe me, that
distinction will seem unimportant after years in Amber, Gaea, or
Snug Harbor."
"Not to mention Wonderland, Toontown, Pell Station, or
Bellona," Tar added.
Karen never found it necessary to be diplomatic when
inquiring about how someone else profitted from her effort.
"What's te coven get from this? It seems a lot like a Manhattan
Project at first glance. Are you sure that we're on the right
side of the balance of power?"
Madge deferred to Tar for the first question. "They
Shadowshift cargo for us," he said. "The personal performance
bonus specifies shipment equivalent to your body mass between
terminuses of your choice. The coven will get a dedicated voyage
of a triple-masted sailing vessel plus a generous letter of credit
against the Crown's treasury. Most valuable of all, however, is
information. What we experience and learn, individually and
collectively, is ours."
Madge fielded the second question herself. "Helen Gone
negotiated the treaty with Random. She trusts him. His goodwill
was adequately demonstrated when he provided the Jewel of
Judgement for the development of the isomorphic aerogel that we
use in the effector arrays."
Karen paused for a moment. "Is the upgrade absolutely
necessary? Can't I just go in for it later?"
"It is important to your development and essential to gate
transfer contracts," Madge answered, apparently somewhat pained to
be quoting the party line. She added gently, "I think I know how
you feel. I faced 'simplicity, sincerity, serenity' with some
apprehension as well. Frankly, proceeding although I had
reservations was a key to growth. You are being asked to
demonstrate your confidence in the coven and your place in our
work."
As Karen considered, Drew pressed his concern forward. "How
does the Amber work-for-hire project fit in with the coven's
work?"
"Our work is with those that we were born among," Tar
answered. "The upgrade strengthens the bonds we have with this
world, but we have coffers to fill. The challenging work that
affords personal growth has to be sold. Amber's buying."
Karen sat back for a moment with her eyes closed,
contemplating the decision, phrasing it tactfully. "In addition
to taking leave from the university, I'm declaring a retreat from
my coven office." So much for attending her Samhain initiation.
Madge and Tar either weren't surprised, or took it well.
Turning to Drew, Tar asked, "And you?"
"She's my partner. I strongly prefer to maintain a lockstep
arrangement in our interfaces, so I'll pass on the upgrade for the
present." Drew paused for a moment, knowing that Karen wanted him
along with her. "I'm going to complete our work and see it
through at the university."
They sat in silence for several minutes. The pregnant pause
allowed room to reflect and proceed without divisive words.
It was Madge who spoke first. "So be it. Your decisions
will be respected." Her voice was still tinged with antinomy, but
it was replaced by genuine warmth as she continued. "If there's
anything that we can do, please call upon us. We would be pleased
to help in any way possible."
Karen and Drew lingered briefly on pleasantries, but the
divergent path that they'd cast upon obviated shop talk.
Karen comfortably discussed administrative details related to
Arkham during the drive back to Los Angeles, but Drew concluded
that the slight tension in Karen's face suggested that she would
make a point of not asking him for an explanation of his decision.
"Look Karen, I don't have the appreciation for Featherstone that
you evidently do. By a twist of fate I got off the reservation
before it sucked me under. I've lived with the medicine man mumbo
jumbo."
Karen rested her hand gently on his thigh. "It's really
okay, Drew."
Drew concentrated on a corner, perfectly cranking the wheel,
braking, and then accelerating. "Are you even considering the
upgrade?"
"Do we need it?" she asked.
"At this rate, 'suffering, sacrifice, and self-abasement'
could be next," he said with a chuckle.
"This is not a social crisis," Karen said with a radiant
grin.
"It's just another tricky day," concluded Drew, with a wink.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
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-=( Tommy )=-
From Tommy@tommys.spydernet.com Fri Mar 14 13:05:01 1997
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From: Tommy@tommys.spydernet.com
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Karen Eliot's Excellent Adventures #2
Date: 14 Mar 1997 13:05:01 -0500
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The THC Adult Text Archive: KAREN-E2.TXT (429 lines)
Please do not allow anyone under 18 to read the contents of this message.
Note: I did not write any of these stories. They are being posted from the
archive as a public service only - any copyrights belong to the authors.
See the footer for important information.
==========================================================================
Karen Eliot's Excellent Adventures #2
by Jim and Meg Norris
This document may be reproduced without permission, provided
it is not modified in any fashion whatsoever, and provided it
is not delivered for any price or charge.
Karen sat at her bar in the small pool of light cast by a desk
lamp. She keyed the remote and was immediately jolted by the
intense volume in her headphones. She quickly adjusted to the
digital rock'n'roll. She extracted one of the two sugar cubes from
the small ziploc and dropped it into the clear water which about
half filled the blue crystal glass. Karen watched the thin tendrils
and bubbles climbing upward from the dissolving cube. When only a
vestige of the cube remained, Karen stirred the water. The painted
Emperor penguin atop the glass stir stick turned and spun. Clasped
lightly in Karen's regal fingers, it completed the ceremonial
preparation. Karen raised the glass and drank the water in several
unhurried swallows. With a phrase, she invoked her hypnotically-
installed interface metaphor and prepared to enter the always open
playground of her mind.
Karen closed her eyes. As always, the first effect to hit was
the intense joy. Beyond euphoria, she was lit by the electric
pleasure of cognition. The acceleration of her awareness took
Karen's breath away. She was filled with a sense of vibrant energy;
restless, resisting confinement, awaiting purpose. Karen waited,
still and receptive, enjoying her most powerful and balanced hit of
L+ yet. Her face was transformed by a wide grin. Everything that
she experienced seemed hilarious. The boundless soul laughed at
every aspect of its voluntary earthly confinement. The joyous
feelings mellowed and Karen could feel the visual effect hitting.
She opened her eyes. Her will twisted the perspective of her
view. With slight effort, she could see the framework of points
underlying her previous perspective. Karen loved to come to the
grid of brilliant spectral colors pulsing on a background of the
deepest black. She shifted her perspective further into the grid.
The perception of her immediate surroundings become masked by the
perspective switching. With the underlying grid mostly in violet
with some green, she could see her world alongside. With the grid
shifted to yellow and blue, her world became a fading afterimage.
The final displacement was to orange and red grid lines. The
delicate flows between the white node points connected by the grid
lines were clearly discernable. Karen relaxed, her mind still.
When she felt totally cleansed, Karen twisted her perspective back
to her physical circumstances.
The point framework faded, but the clear joy remained. Karen
tamped the last of her Mendocino purple kush into the bong bowl.
She smoked several hits of the famous one-hit shit.
Karen piloted her 16-valve yupster through the thickening early
morning traffic. She drove to her favorite regional park,
occasionally playing with the shapes of the fluffy clouds to the
sounds of blasting rock'n'roll. The promising gusts of wind earlier
had picked up to a steady breeze.
She was easily able to fit into the street side parking space
left by a suit driving a boat that didn't quite look like his
father's Oldsmobile.
Karen removed the two bags with her gear from the car and set
off on foot. Her favorite visual hallucination was immediately
operational; the clouds were false colored. The resolution improved
as she watched. Horizontal and vertical movement was highlighted to
the degree of magnitude. Movement tails were plotted against the
latlong grid on the sky that suddenly appeared. Her left eye
displayed additive color mixture and her right showed subtractive
mixture. She blinked rapidly several times before establishing gray
scale; positive on left, negative on right. With several more
blinks she tested the binocular gray of her shaded object view mode.
She switched the tactical overlay on and enjoyed the instant
replacement. Dense monochrome axial and edge lines defined the
plotted objects in her wireframe view mode. She blinked rapidly and
switched the representation color; red, orange, yellow, green, blue,
violet. Trees moving in the breeze appeared as fractal fluff. She
toyed briefly with switching visibility of the hidden lines before
halting on the small hilltop that she'd walked to. The position was
ideal for kite flying; an unobstructed hilltop with a comfortably
calm lee side. Karen willed the visual hallucination suite off.
Once Karen had unpacked everything that she needed, the special
components of her custom kite were arrayed about her in small
unitary bags. Moving lithely, she fitted the machined alloy tubes
through the fabric. With some flexing of the frame tubes, the
assembly locked into position. The dihedral looked perfect to her
practiced eye. She quickly attached her toys to the kite. This was
to be the final test of the digital camera. The stoner-friendly
components were a cinch to connect and test. The kite ready, Karen
swiftly connected the signal processor and the display to the power
pack. Her nipples hardened as she stood facing the oncoming chill
wind with the black shark kite. Once she released the two meter
long kite, it tugged aggressively to achieve altitude. The ratchet
on the reel of line stopped clicking at full extension. Karen
hooked the reel to a concrete-anchored barbecue grill. The kite
would easily stay aloft all day, given wind.
Karen plugged her goggles into the display plate. She tested
the trackball controlled lens movements. The stabilized lens mount
really cut down on vertigo. She switched through her visual
hallucination series satisfactorily with the remote device. The
view was centered downwind from her position.
Karen started looking at her surroundings in an expanding
spiral from the duck pond directly below the kite. She tarried
briefly while watching the city maintenance crew loafing near the
lake's pump housing. Only a single weather-beaten Pinto occupied
the nearest parking lot.
Karen spotted a boy walking purposefully toward the junked out
ovenmobile where an equally weathered man sat eating a burrito in
it. The boy had the eager, slightly feral look of someone exposed
to particularly harsh realities of life at too young an age.
The lad leaned in the passenger side window and apparently
spoke with the driver. As he walked away he stopped and seemed to
meet another person whom Karen hadn't noticed. The kid and the
woman walked together toward the Pinto. Both crowded at the window
briefly. Karen twiddled the controls to get maximum zoom and the
best angle. She watched something pass hands from the woman to the
driver.
Then the woman and the boy got into the car. They crowded
together in the middle of the car making detailed observation
impossible.
After a few minutes the woman and boy got out of the car. It
occurred that the similarities in appearance and expression
suggested a familial relationship. Had the kid set up a deal for
his mom?
Spiraling wider, Karen took in the surrounding neighborhood.
The immediate view was a jumble of air conditioners, fireplaces,
antennae, and dilapidated roofing. The yards proved to be barely
more interesting, with the usual domestic animals and uninspired
gardening.
Still, things were not without potential as the viewing
mechanism came to rest and Karen watched a woman stroking herself
with tanning oil. Almost as if she had willed it the elegant
woman's hand was dipping into her scant bikini bottom. The woman
gave herself over to the pleasure of it and Karen absently licked
the fine sheen of perspiration above her lips.
Peripheral motion caught Karen's attention. The Smith's
Department Store delivery van stopped at the curb in front of the
woman's house. The driver walked up to the porch and waited.
Karen scanned back to the poolside. Apparently in oblivion,
the woman had just found the extended nub of her clitoris. Karen
read her lips, "Oh...fuck...fuck me, Jim...oh...God! Fuck meee...".
Waves seemed to engulf her as she sank her hand deeper into her
cunt, making her shudder with orgasm. She relaxed on the lawn.
Apparently she hadn't noticed the delivery man standing on her
porch watching her. Karen knew that she had something here that was
better than soap operas. If this followed the hallowed script line,
the coy bitch would play kinda hard to get, yet a hot wench once
coerced into putting out. Karen watched the woman get up and face
the delivery man. The cups of her halter dangled, her proud breasts
displayed openly. The look on her face as she whipped the guilty
hand behind her back was priceless. She shook her tits and rolled
her pelvis enticingly while upholding the verbal pretense of
fighting off an over-eager admirer. He approached her and ran his
hand over her breasts. She raised her pubic mound in horny
response, "No, please, don't. I'll give you money." His immediate
reply was, "Keep it. I'll do it for free!"
Skip and Barbara introduced themselves once they were satisfied
that they were committed to fucking by the rules of the mating
ritual. Skip finger fucked Barbara briefly before helping her out
of her sodden bikini.
Barbara freed Skip's erection from his jeans and began stroking
it. She kissed and licked his cock lightly and insisted that he
fuck her. Skip knelt over Barbara, slipped his massive hardon into
her sloshing cunt, and proceeded to pump furiously.
Karen noticed what must have been neighbor kids atop the wall
at the back of Barbara's property. As she watched, two boys jumped
down and ran away. The others, a boy and a girl of about the same
age, stared unabashedly at the rutting adults.
Karen turned her attention back to Barbara and Skip. Barbara's
thrashing was either seizures, or she was coming big time. Just a
moment later, Skip began jabbing his pelvis against Barbara's crotch
with severe determination.
Following their mutual orgasm, Barbara began protesting
vociferously. Skip didn't seem deterred and Skip began licking
Barbara's tits and belly. Karen looked back at the kids on the
wall. The kids who had run away were back. They passed something
rather large to their friends on top of the wall. It was a
videocam! They got it going just as Skip started licking at
Barbara's pussy.
While continuing to lick and suck Barbara's drenched box, Skip
straddled her, positioning his dong above her mouth. Barbara
greedily mouthed his meat with abandon. Karen watched the two
lovers perform for the juvenile audience. Eventually, both came
again, but this time they collapsed afterward in exhaustion.
The sex apparently complete, Karen continued her widening
spiral scan. Karen was still hot from her shameless voyeurism. She
unzoomed and tried to chill out. It was some time before her
consciousness expanded to perceive the coverage area fully, without
effort. After a period she lost track of watching and just watched.
She felt the cold edges of eternity as the individuality of her
perception faded.
Thoroughly refreshed, Karen took off the display goggles and
arose. The ultra-stable shark wasn't as thrilling to fly by hand as
most kites, but was fun nonetheless. She unhooked the reel from the
barbecue and stood on her local hilltop, anchoring the peeping
shark. Karen was starting to become bored with the kite when she
noticed a young man approaching.
The smiling face of don Genaro was pasted over the approaching
stranger. She hated it when that happened. The Castaneda clan, who
considered her to be some kind of witch, invaded her lofty highs
periodically. Karen had to wait out the limited power of the ally
which was reduced by ignoring it. Meanwhile, in a thought bubble
over her head, an icon-sized Yaqui sorcerers apprentice scribbled in
his hilarious notebooks.
"Happy Earth Day, Karen", Genaro said.
"Piss on that", Karen said as she continued to fly her kite.
"What?", Genaro smiled.
"Happy Earth First! day", Karen replied.
"What's it matter what you call it as long as we act together
to save the planet?"
"You sound like the environmental president. Let's link arms
across Amerika and pretend. Let's pretend that someone else will
fix things. Save it for the yuppie swine."
"Okay, what're you doing?"
"Well, let me see. I'm shipping a crate of special tree
spikes, writing to imprisoned Firsters, and planting trees. And
that's today."
Unsure of the man's exact identity, she posed an insider
question, "How's the titty project"?
"Beautiful! The tiny turbofan was incredible. We got much
better performance from the zeppelin than expected. And quiet?
Almost inaudible at altitude. How's the vid?"
"It's perfect. I taped some haus frau fucking a delivery man
in her back yard over there", she said, pointing to the subdivision
next to the park. "And I wasn't the only one. The kids next door
are going to make her a local celebrity."
Still, don Genaro could have been one of several men. But,
which one? Another insider question, "And the navware?"
"Haven't heard, but that was the easiest part. I'm sure it's
go", Genaro responded.
With the realization that she was speaking to Roger Wilco, the
airframe contractor, the don Genaro face disappeared, leaving
Roger's craggy, but handsome features. The figure in the thought
bubble paused and looked up before vanishing.
"I've got a solid lead on the fundy mentalists", Roger
announced. "A church that they gather at before descending on
clinics. An OR organizer flew in for a meeting tonight."
Used to the short notice which was often involved in
monkeywrenching, Karen pressed for details, "What's their security?"
"Jesus and the parking lot lights."
"What're you doing?", Karen asked, her interest piqued.
"Placing caltrops. There should be a nearly full parking lot,
and we have enough for all. There's even enough for the helpful tow
trucks and supportive friends."
Without reservation, Karen agreed to the date. She traded
turns with Roger hauling in the peeping shark.
Karen negotiated the suburban streets according to the
instructions that she'd received. She found the health spa with
little effort. She'd passed on several previous occasions, but had
been unimpressed by the lack of business that was evident. If the
grounds were any indication, the spa wasn't doing any too well.
She parked under the shade the nearest tree to the door. The
information desk was right inside the door. Karen was pleased to be
recognized when she introduced herself to the pretty brunette.
During the time that she waited for her masseuse, Karen watched the
swimmers in the olympic pool beyond the plate glass. Several men
and a woman played hide-and-seek games enthusiastically.
Dena, who would her masseuse, was not what Karen had expected.
She was a short, plump, Latina with a kindly but deferential manner.
Dena led Karen to a private massage room.
Once the door was closed, she withdrew a small pipe and her stash of
Humboldt skunk from her purse. As she loaded the pipe she explained
to Karen, "It's an excellent high. No seeds". The women sat calmly
and puffed the bowl to dust.
Karen roused herself from her mental fog and stood, gracefully
pulling the pinafore dress over her head. Her tits jiggled
delightfully when she shook her hair out. Almost as an
afterthought, she slipped her bikini panties off and stepped out of
her sandals. She dropped all three articles of clothing on the
chair which she'd just been sitting in and and lay face on the
prepared table. Dena waited, warming the oil in hands that had
sturdy, practiced fingers. Karen hadn't taken note of Dena's covert
appreciation of her gorgeous body as she disrobed.
Starting with a sweeping arch that took in Karen's shoulders
and the upper portion of her back, Dena began. Her fingers worked
in concert to slowly knead the areas that offered resistance. Karen
felt the tension retreat as Dena worked her flesh with warm circular
pressure. Dena used delicate touches to relax Karen's neck and
scalp before turning her attentions to Karen's lower back.
Captivated by the gentle curve of Karen's sweetly freckled ass, Dena
cupped and rubbed the lovely buttocks. Karen automatically spread
her legs apart as Dena stroked her upper thighs. Dena thoroughly
rubbed Karen's shapely legs. As she proceeded toward Karen's ankles
she was overcome by the perfect picture of split tail.
Dena bent Karen's legs up at the knees and began a detailed
study of her feet. Her fingers traced every detail of Karen's toes,
arches, and heels.
Karen rolled over at the easy touch. Dena intertwined her
fingers between Karen's toes and lightly sucked and licked between
them, the while rolling her fingers along the tender arch. Karen's
erect nipples testified to her growing excitement. She arched her
back involuntarily and moaned excitedly from the wonderful sensory
overload. Dena's expert hands kneaded Karen's calf. She massaged
Karen's upper thigh and knee. Karen's legs gradually spread further
apart revealing her moist and puffy pussy. Dena rubbed the other
leg from the thigh to the knee and ankle. Finally, she gave Karen's
left foot equal treatment. While Karen relaxed, Dena moved around
to Karen's side. She made several applications of oil to Karen's
chest, manipulating her breasts gently.
Dena lost herself briefly playing with Karen's firm and shapely
tits. The well oiled mounds conformed to the constantly changing
pressure from her hands, but immediately returned to their pert
contours when released. Dena concentrated her efforts on each
breast in turn once Karen's nips came up; one hand shifting and
sliding, the other tugging and twisting the sensitive nipple. When
she could tear herself away, Dena bent over and lightly kissed each
of Karen's coral-colored nips.
Only the slightest pressure was required to prompt Karen to
reposition herself on the table. From slender feet to tapered
calves to slim thighs, Dena relished the view of Karen's shapely
legs dangling from the table. She felt nothing short of adoration
for the flower of womanly flesh nestled in Karen's downy pubes.
Dena dabbed special spice-scented oil on Karen's swollen mound,
rubbing gently around and around. She brushed the fleshy inner lips
and saw the first drops of translucent dew. With practiced strokes,
Dena manipulated the lubricated labia. She caressed the clitoral
hood with one hand while easing the index finger of the other into
the snug pussy. She tantalized the hardened pea and the delicate
labial fold. Dena added more oil and began screwing her finger in
and out of Karen's cunt; slowly at first, but faster and faster in
tempo to Karen's bucking hips and inarticulate moans. When she got
the track of Karen's approaching orgasm Dena carefully synced her
motions, until the orgasmic waves from Karen's clit and G-spot
cascaded over her repeatedly.
Dena slipped the amyl capsule from her stash while Karen
relaxed, laying back, breathing raggedly. As soon as Karen was
desensitized, Dena lowered her mouth to Karen's crotch and exhaled
warmly.
Dena reamed the point of her delicate tongue into the puckered
rosebud of Karen's asshole. Karen moaned gently and rubbed an erect
nipple between forefinger and thumb of one hand while she played
with Dena's glossy mane with the other hand. Aroused by the musky
femininity, Dena began licking the length of Karen's slit with
fervor, occasionally tugging her pussy lips gently, or nuzzling her
swollen clit. As she licked gentle circular patterns, Dena prepared
to crush the capsule. She carefully led Karen to the edge of
orgasm; hips gyrating, rolling her pussy wantonly, crazed. Karen
had just started her hard climax when she smelled the medicinal
odor. Instantly, the vasodilator hit and Dena jammed a finger in
her ass. Karen rode the forever acceleration of rocket-boosted-
orgasm nearly to seizures before it faded. She lay back, spent and
exhausted.
Dena slowly arose and walked to Karen's side where she leaned
over and cuddled the redhead gently. They snuggled briefly before
Dena patted Karen's sweet ass and stepped away to prepare the
shower.
Karen got up once she heard the water running. The shower was a
freestanding pipe in the corner with a massage shower head on a
hose. A tile sill provided a shallow basin around the drain. Karen
was captivated by the radiant smile which Dena sported as she soaped
a washcloth. Invigorated by the very scent of the lathered mint
soap as she approached, Karen slipped into the steamy shower.
Karen raised her arms and intertwined her fingers behind her
head while Dena began walking around her, rinsing her with the
needle spray hot water. When Dena hung the shower head on the pipe
Karen turned to direct the massaging water on her shoulders and
upper back. Dena knelt and eased Karen's legs apart. She gently
yet thoroughly washed the blushing snatch with the stimulating soap.
Dena turned off the shower and patted a large fluffy towel
against Karen's lightly freckled skin, drying her completely. The
two women hugged warmly before returning to Karen's clothes and a
final smoke before Karen dressed and left for the swimming pool.
Roger Wilco had all the equipment set up and tested at the safe
house before Karen arrived late in the evening. They awaited the
cabal contact who was to direct the signoff mission of the zeppelin.
Hedda Steam was an old friend of Karen's, but Roger only knew her
from construction review meetings.
Roger answered the knock at the door. The raven-haired Amerind
was as beautiful, and as businesslike, as ever. Roger led her to
the back bedroom where the computers and radios were arrayed. Karen
and Hedda embraced warmly and pecked each others cheeks. Karen
offered the first hit of red-haired sinse to Hedda, who obliged by
lighting the bong and drawing deeply. After several passes of the
pipe, the three were relaxed and ready.
The mischief was about to begin. Karen and Hedda had watched
Roger transmit the flight instructions that had allowed the zeppelin
to shadow the formation of six Bell 206 utility helicopters.
With several keystrokes, Roger selected the radio navaids to be
jammed. It was no small coincidence that the formation was
currently relying on them for navigation. With a press of the
RETURN key, programming was uploaded to the special pod which was
attached to the zeppelin.
The chopper pilots became concerned when red flags started to
extend into the faces of their radio navigation instruments. They
switched through the various VOR frequencies available to them and
found the same static everywhere.
The cabal mission outline had optimistically projected that the
malathion sprayers would abort their mission and return to base once
they could no longer rely on absolute positioning. That hope was
shattered when the lead pilot ordered continuing on visual.
"Charlie Mike", he'd called on the radio as he began the final turn,
leading the legal urban aerial poisoning of sleeping families.
Hedda nodded and Roger selected and transmitted another
program. The zeppelin began forging the signals returned by the
altitude-encoding radar transponders of the formation. Roger,
Hedda, and Karen waited a tense few minutes, listening fortrouble.
When none came, Hedda nodded again and Roger sent an initiating
signal.
In an instant, the helicopters all appeared to have been
hijacked. The air traffic controllers saw the assigned squawk codes
turn to 7500 in one sweep of the interrogating radar beam.
The nightmare was only starting for the controllers. Their
calls weren't heard or returned by the formation. The pilots were
apparently getting somewhat edgy about the loss of communication as
well. Unable to communicate with one another, the pilots broke
formation according to contingency plan.
Once the formation began breaking up, the zeppelin changed the
forged squawk codes to 7700; emergency. The encoded altitude was
rapidly decreased until the signal was completely blanked. The
controllers believed that the choppers had crashed and began
responding accordingly.
Roger transmitted the final program. The zeppelin ceased all
radio interference and turned to its departure path; a secure cabal-
operated landing zone waited in the desert. The turbofan-powered
zeppelin slipped away, its anechoic coating hiding it from the radar
below and above, where the alerted interceptors snooped.
Roger, Karen, and Hedda were almost rolling on the floor in
laughter from the conversations between the malathion sprayers and
the air traffic controllers. It was going to be a very late night
for these lackeys of agribiz.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Please don't send requests for reposts, missing parts, GIFs, FTP sites, etc.
If you find getting stories from this newsgroup inconvenient, the archive
is available on disk. Send a blank email to adultarc@f26.n340.z1.fidonet.org
for more information. Authors wishing to have files added to or removed from
the THC Public archive should contact me at: tommy@f26.n340.z1.fidonet.org.
Please refer comments to alt.sex.stories.d or to e-mail. Thank you.
-=( Tommy )=-