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Message-ID: <29070asstr$983088602@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: jimmy@jimmy-hat.com (Jimmy Hat)
Subject: {ASSM} <2ndS> The Server [1/2] by Jimmy Hat (MF oral exhib)  
Date: Sun, 25 Feb 2001 03:10:02 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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This work contains graphic depictions of sex acts.
Please do not continue if this makes you uncomfortable,
or violates laws in your part of the world.

This story is Copyright 2001 by Jimmy Hat (jimmy@jimmy-hat.com)
----------------------------------------------------------------------

THE SERVER

Agents Maytag and Stanton alighted from their car and took a
moment to look at the surroundings. They were on Florida's Gulf
coast and could see the white sands of the beach from where they
stood. The sun was shining, there wasn't a cloud in the sky.
Agent Maytag considered taking off his black suit jacket, then
thought the better of walking around with his shoulder holster
exposed. 

Agent Stanton wore black as well, only her suit jacket was
tapered at the waist. Unlike Maytag's gray shirt and dark tie,
she wore an open collared deep-blue blouse that matched her eyes.
For the moment dark sunglasses covered her eyes, but she would
take them off soon enough. They approached the house and rang the
bell. 

At the door of the beach front house they were greeted by a busty,
petite blonde in a tight white t-shirt and khaki shorts. "Hello,
I'm Amanda Downing. You must be from the FBI." Amanda shrugged.
"Sorry, no one else around here wears suits, and certainly not to
my house. You both look very nice, though, really." 

"Hello, Ms. Downing, I'm Special Agent Heather Stanton and this
is Special Agent Gerald Maytag." When Maytag and Stanton shook
hands with her they noticed how tan she was. 

"Please, come in," Amanda said. "I want to thank you for coming
down here to talk to me on such short notice," 

"This is our job, Ms. Downey," Maytag said. 

"Mizz Downey," she mimicked him. "I'm embarrassed enough. Please
call me Mandi. And please sit down. Can I get you something to
drink?" 

"No, thank you, Mandi," Maytag said as he sat down. 

Stanton tried to put Mandi at ease. "You have a beautiful home,"
she said as she took a seat next to Maytag on the sofa. Stanton
was not merely flattering her. The white sofa was in the middle
of a Spanish style white stucco room with a parquet floor. Large
sliding glass doors opened to the shorelines. Rugs and pottery
helped adorn the room. 

"Thank you," Mandi said smiling, looking around the room. "It's
kinda new to me, too. Business has been good." 

"Until now," Maytag said. 

The smile left her face. She nodded. "That's right. Like I told
you on the phone, I run a Web site. For adults, y'know? Well,
some one has taken control of my server. I can't make updates,
I'm afraid my billing information may be incorrect or worse, and
my members are probably pissed." 

"How long has this been going on?" Maytag asked. 

"Since the weekend." Mandi answered. "Here, I'll show you." Mandi
stood and led them to a smaller room that obviously served as a
home office. Besides the usual office equipment and computer, the
room contained a printer, scanner, a video camera, and even a
sofa. 

"This is it," Mandi announced, sweeping her arm in the wide arc
of a grand gesture. "This is where minimandi-dot-com happens.
It's also where I do graphics and testing and stuff before I
upload things to the server. Gimme a second and I'll open my
mail." 

When the mail application had opened, Mandi invited them to take
a look. Maytag and Stanton leaned in close to the monitor and
read the subject lines of incoming mail. "The bold lines are new
messages," Mandi said. "This is just the stuff I've gotten
today." 

The subject lines ranged from juvenile ("Mandi's Got a Hacker
Nyah nah nah nyah nah") to hostile ("Don't fsck with me!") to
downright cryptic ("3l337 h4k0r fuk1n9 u" and "All your pr0n are
belong to us!!"). 

"These messages are all coming from the same place," Maytag said,
having noticed the sender for each message was identical, "Z
Dawg". 

"Yeah," Mandi said, looking back at him. "He set up that account
on my server." 

"Mandi," Stanton began, "if you would let us talk to our computer
crime people and get them involved we could trace this guy to
wherever he is and stop him." 

"You won't need any computer experts to do that," Mandi said. 

"Why not?" Maytag asked. 

Mandi sighed. "You don't need any computer experts because he's
inside the house." 

"What?" Stanton asked. 

Maytag scratched his head, and then raised his open palm in the
"halt" gesture. "Mandi, you're going to have to tell us exactly
what's going on here." 

Mandi bit her lip. "Okay. The Web site I run, minimandi-dot-com,
is a membership based site. People pay me every month and they
get access to photos and weekly cam sessions where they can see
live video. It's really no different from when I was dancing,
only I work less hours, make more money, and never come home
smelling like cigarettes." 

She took a deep breath and looked at the agents before rattling
off words like a machine-gun. "Anyway, I have this deal with
members where they can pay me five hundred bucks to stay the
weekend and help me run the live cam show." Mandi stopped to
appraise their reaction. "See, I knew you would look at me like
that! That's why I didn't tell the Clearwater police!" 

"We're just listening, Mandi," Stanton said. "We're not here to
try to nail you on anything, right Maytag?" 

Maytag nodded. "That's right. But we do need to know what's going
on." 

"Okay?" Stanton asked. 

Mandi shook her head affirmatively. "Anyway, this member Zach
scheduled a weekend and he arrived Saturday." 

"Zach is Z Dawg?" Maytag asked. 

"Yeah," Mandi answered. "His name is Zach Nowitski. He does that
Z Dawg stuff, and he calls himself an 'elite hacker' all the
time, and uses that silly '3' instead of 'e'. I thought it was
harmless. He's just a poseur. Lots of my members like to put on
an act. That's fine with me: for ten bucks a month they can use
whatever names they want." 

"Anyway, Zach shows up on Friday, and he was like real nice.
Things went fine until the cam show that night. Then he got all
weird." 

"Weird how?" Stanton asked. 

Mandi lowered her head. "Well, sometimes if I hit it off with a
member, we'll actually have sex on camera as part of the show." 

"And with Mr. Nowitski...?" Maytag asked. 

"He obviously wanted to. It just didn't click, y'know? It was
like, it just wasn't gonna happen between us." 

"And then what happened?" 

"Well, nothing right away. I did a solo show, Zach said it was
good. He seemed a little disappointed, but I thought he was a big
boy and he would get over it. When I woke up in the morning, I
found his first email. He barricaded himself in the server room
and wasn't coming out until he got what he wanted." 

"What did he want?" Stanton asked. 

"Breakfast," Mandi said. Maytag snorted and Mandi glared at him.
"Don't laugh! I've been cooking for him the past four days!" 

"Why give in to him?" Maytag asked. 

"I have over two thousand photos on that server that took me more
than a year to put together. Not to mention mpegs and other
stuff. Plus I host some other girls' stuff there, too. He could
ruin me!" 

"You have no backups?" Maytag pressed. 

"Of course," Mandi answered, flustered. "I burn backup CDs. But
those CDs are in the server room, too." 

"Mandi, we're not criticizing you," Stanton said. "We just need
to know where things stand." 

"That's true," Maytag added. "I apologize if I spoke harshly,
Miss Downing, but I need to know what our options are." 

"It's okay," Mandi said. "I'm a little tense. So what are our
options?" 

"We can't risk upsetting him," Maytag said. He paused to run a
hand through his hair. "And any legal action against Mr. Nowistki
may put you in jeopardy because of your weekend stays." 

Mandi assented wordlessly. 

"Speaking of which," Maytag said, "I trust that after this
episode you'll stop the bed and breakfast routine." 

"I've learned my lesson, if that's what you mean." 

"Good," Maytag said. He wasn't sure that was a promise to stop,
but he was not going to press the issue. 

"Getting back to the server," Stanton said. 

"Right," Maytag said with a clap of his hands. He rubbed them
together, as if making fire with two sticks. "We give him what he
wants." 

"No way!" Mandi said. "He wants sex!" 

"Maytag!" Stanton yelled. "You can't be suggesting she offer
herself as ransom for a hostage computer!" 

"Are we sure that's what he wants?" Maytag asked. "Let's ask
him." 

"Where's the server?" Stanton asked. 

"It's down the hall in a converted bedroom. But he won't talk
through the door. There are fans and stuff in there that make a
lot of noise, and he's afraid if he gets too close to the door I
might try something." 

Stanton smiled. "Mini Mandi has a tough reputation?" she joked. 

Mandi laughed as she worked at the desk. "Well, Zach isn't
exactly a big guy either. And I've done a fair share of yelling,
too. He probably thinks I'm a raving lunatic. Easier to threaten
me on the computer. Speaking of which, he's trying to talk to me
online right now. You want to type or should I." 

"You type. Find out what will make him happy." 

Z Dawg> All your pr0n are belong to us 

Mandi> I don't know what that means 

Z Dawg> Mwuhahahahaha 

Mandi> Z, I want this to end. Tell me what you want. 

Z Dawg> WTF? 

Mandi> No joke. What is it you want? 

Z Dawg> i w4n7 pu55y 

Mandi> huh? 

Z Dawg> pu55y 0n k4m3r4 

Mandi> Z, cut it out. Put it in plain english, ok? 

Z Dawg> I want sex on camera 

"So now what?" Mandi asked the agents. She looked over her
shoulder. "I told you, I'm not doing that." 

"Get him to promise," Stanton said. "Promise he'll give in if you
agree to have on sex on camera." 

"No way!" 

"Trust me," Stanton said. "Get him to promise to give up if you
agree to have sex on camera." 

Mandi returned to typing: 

Mandi> Will you promise to give up if I agree to have sex on camera? 

Z Dawg> YES! YES! FUCK YES! I'm ready when you are, baby! 

"That's just fucking great!" Mandi said sarcastically. She jumped
out of her chair. "I told you I'm not doing it." 

"It seems you just told him you would," Maytag quipped. 

"She said she would have sex on camera," Stanton said. "She
didn't say anything about having sex with him." Stanton folded
her arms under her breasts and smiled, proud of a job well done.
Maytag and Mandi stared at each other. 

"I guess I should leave the room and let you two get started,"
Stanton said. 

"Whoa, Stanton!" Maytag called. "You can't expect me to do that!" 

"Why not?" Mandi said putting her hands on her hips and pushing
out her chest. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that," said Maytag. He stood
staring at her breasts straining against the tight t-shirt. "I
mean, you're, obviously..." 

"I'll let you two lovebirds work this out," Stanton said, exiting
the room. 

"Lovebirds?" Mandi said, redirecting her outrage to Stanton. 

"Stanton, no!" Maytag called. 

It was too late. She was out of the room. Maytag and Mandi were
left to handle the situation themselves. 

"What should we do about this?" Mandi asked. 

"I don't really know," Maytag answered. 

"Maybe I should just start taking off my clothes," Mandi said.
"Zach will see it as an invitation and come here from the server
room. On the way here, Stanton will see him and stop him." 

"Good idea," Maytag said. It certainly seemed that way, and he
could just stand behind the camera. 

"Okay," Mandi said. "Turn on the camera. That's it. Don't forget
to take off the lens cap." 

"How's that?" Maytag asked. 

"Look through the camera and see," Mandi told him. "Make sure the
sofa just fits in the picture. I use the arms of the sofa as
markers for where I can go and still be on camera." 

Maytag looked through the lens. The lens framed the ends of the
sofa perfectly. Mandi was sitting on the sofa shaking out her
blond hair. "Looks good," Maytag said. 

"See the camera icon there on the desktop?" Mandi asked. "Click
that and we're on. Or I'm on. Oh, and there's a CD in the
computer. Just hit the media player there next to the camera
picture." 

Maytag started the camera broadcast and the CD. Just like that
Mandi was on the net. A simple drumbeat bounced off the walls.
After a few bars, a funky guitar strung out on top of the beat.
It was unmistakably Stevie Wonder's "Superstition". 

Mandi bopped her head in time with the music. Her heel tapped
the beat and her leg moved along with it. When Stevie talked
about seven years of bad luck, Mandi dipped her hips. By the time
the horn section swirled in earnest, her hips were rolling along
smoothly. 

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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