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Message-ID: <44180asstr$1062450602@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Scott" <Scottturnitred@hotmail.com>
Reply-To: "Scott" <Scottturnitred@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} A Story - The Guest (Sci Fi / Romance)
Date: Mon,  1 Sep 2003 17:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

When I was younger, men would wait inline for me. Handsome young soldiers,
wealthy merchants, and famous entertainers; all wanted a turn. I worked when
I wanted and where I wanted. My thankful clients showered me with gifts and
make believe affections. My life was all about the finest hotels, the very
best food, and every sexual variation. Whatever I wanted I had. Men and
women alike told me how beautiful I was. Perhaps one or two really cared. I
was far too in love with myself to take any notice.



That was a long time ago. No one waited inline for me now. No one smiled at
me or fantasized about what was under my dress. Beautiful was a word I never
heard. Money and possessions were a distant memory.



An old friend introduced me to a place which offered a unique shared mind
experience. Virtual reality was everywhere, but this technology was very
different. The connection between the players was deep, the intimacy quiet
real.



Many of the customers brought their own playmates. Sometimes the fantasies
were so perverted, no one would play along. Such was the little niche I
filled. To be a man's young daughter or his unspoiled innocent niece or his
submissive personal slave. Sometimes to be the defeated slut of a dominating
lesbian.



I learned all the parts, and I played each well.



The difference between this place and the typical virtual reality shop was
the deep sense of personal violation and conquest. The paying customer was
able to get that special feeling that he or she had really taken another
person, really dominated them, really penetrated them, really hurt them. The
experience was as real as life itself.



The owner didn't mind a little hustling on the side. For an extra coin, the
client could have real sex with me after the experience. In the simulation,
I looked and felt and tasted like the woman they desired. In the illusion,
they couldn't get enough of me. For my real flesh, few expressed any
interest. The demand for old whores was not very high.



With a little effort, and a very high tolerance for abuse, I developed a bit
of a following. Just enough repeat customers to stay alive. Some of the
fantasies were too much even for me. I refused the cutters, the violent
rapists, and the gang bangers. I prayed I never had to go down that far.



One slow Sunday afternoon, my friend and I were sitting in the waiting room
hoping a fee might walk in. We often had young boys stop by on Sundays.
Their little fantasies were so simple and sweet. Perhaps one with a rich
father would show up and want a threesome. He might even pay for a real blow
job later.



A large monitor viewed the entrance. We looked at who and what walked in.
How they appeared and smelled made a real difference. As they were in life,
so they were in the simulation. I was about to smoke a little kilian, when
Carol shouted.



"Get a load of this!"



Standing in the entrance was huge Nyman. I was amazed he made it though the
door. Carol turned away in disgust.



"I'm not doing that filthy Nyman! I did one once, it was horrible. Wanted to
give it to me in the ass with that huge dick of his. He smelled like a goat.
No way!"



"Look at his friend." I said. "Maybe they're queers!"



We both had a good laugh. There was no such thing as a queer Nyman.



We both stopped laughing when the third man walked in. The Nymans moved out
of his way. A very tall, thin man wearing a dark robe. His face and arms
were covered. He spoke to the receptionist and tossed a small black bag on
the desk top. The receptionist tried to smile. She picked up the phone.



Carol answered it.



"What?' Carol asked "He wants a direct link? You know we don't do that."



The machines would allow a direct real time mind to mind link. Such a
connection was very dangerous. If one of the players was psycho, the
disorder could spread to the other mind. I've seen people come off the
machines screaming. No drugs could fix that kind of damage. Carol kept
talking.



"Tell him to forget it. He has to record the fantasy, then we play it and
see if we will go along. Everything is a script. No free flows or direct
links."



Carol sat up and yelled at the phone.



"How much!"



Carol put her hand over the receiver and looked at me.



"Get this, he's offering a quarter talon for eight hours. Did you hear me? A
full quarter talon! I could live on that for a month."



She spoke to the receptionist and then to me.



"He wants to pick a human playmate. Are you in? It's a free flow, no
restrictions."



Was I in? Would I risk permanent brain damage for a quarter talon?  What if
he was the kind who liked to torture or even kill women?  What if I found
myself locked on a rack for days, being whipped and brutally sodomized.
Hours could seem like weeks in that machine. The memories stayed with you,
the violation just as intense. Once he paid for those eight hours, once the
pads were on your temples, there was no going back.



A sad forced laugh came out of my mouth. I used to throw full talons around
like they were nothing. Now I had to plug my mind and soul into the sick
fantasy of a walk in guest for the tiny, miniscule sum of a quarter talon.
How far I had fallen.



Of course I was in.



The seven of us that were human went to the viewing room. The thin man came
in, followed by his two enormous bodyguards. As soon as I saw him, I knew he
was no man, at least not any normal man. There was an air of coldness about
him. He was dark and empty. At that moment, I wanted out. He terrified me.
If I was selected, I was going to say no.



He made us stand in line. He walked past, looking each one of us in the
eyes. We couldn't see him, his face was hidden in the darkness of his hood.
When he came to me, he stopped. In a dark raspy voice, he spoke.



"Your name?"



Normally I would lie. What difference did my name make? For some reason I
told the truth.



"Sara."



He nodded his head ever so slightly. From his pocket he removed two polished
talons. He held them between his white thin fingers.



"Be true, and you'll have two more."



He handed me the coins. Four talons was more money than I'd seen in years. I
could have backed out, but I went him to the room. He had bought his time.
What would it be? A variety of sick perversions? A series of rapes? A cruel
murder? I didn't know. There was no controlling a free flow. Somehow I
needed to make it through the next eight hours. Eight hours on the machine
was a long, long time.



The client insisted all the lights be turned out. His two massive guards
waited outside. I wondered why a man so rich would want a fantasy whore. He
could get a real flesh and blood woman to do anything. For four talons, he
could have done every woman in this place and every other hooker on the
street.



"Whatever he wants must horrible," I thought.



The tech setting up the link looked at me. He bent down and whispered,



"Sara, do you know what you're doing? He's.Do you know.."



"Silence!" the guest yelled. The tech shut up and did his job. He didn't
need to tell me I was headed for trouble. How much more obvious could it
have been.



My head was in the devise. The cold metal plates fitted snugly to my
temples. Normally I knew what to expect. I would have already seen the
fantasy. My role would be clear. I would be sucking some dick, or tied to a
bed, or prancing around in high heels. All I knew for sure was I couldn't do
anything but play along. The guest was in complete control. I was locked in.



A little discomfort could be expected when the illusion began. The pain this
time was much worse and very deep. I could feel his powerful mind invading
me. The machine slowly linked us. His thoughts and memories about his girl
would come to me. The machine would make me into her. I would look as she
did, feel as she felt. In this little make believe world, I would be as he
remembered her.



All I could hear was confused sounds. I blinked my eyes. I was in some kind
of a ship, chained fast to the floor. There were other women around me. Some
were crying, some trying to get out of the chains. I could feel cold sweat
run down my back and the sharp bite of the cuffs on my hands. A small insect
crawled up my wrist. I could feel its little legs as they brushed across the
fine hairs on my arm. My mouth was dry and I was very scared.



There was a hard jolt. We were unchained by the same two Nymans who were
with the guest. This was no ordinary fantasy. The colors, the sounds, the
smell, everything was visceral. I bit my arm and it really hurt. Whatever
this was, I was living it.



Myself and ten other women where lead into a very bright sun. We had to
stand still and wait. After a few minutes, a tall man in a black robe
appeared. In his hand was a long black whip. I was certain he was going to
beat me. He walked down the line, just as he had in the viewing room. He
said something to each woman, but I couldn't understand him. When he came to
me, he stopped. He looked me over, up and down. The sun shinned into his
dark hood and I saw his face. I was revolted. I turned my head away in
disgust. His skin was bone white and his empty eyes black as death.



"This one is a whore," he said and tapped me on the shoulder with the whip.



Myself and three other girls were locked in a small cage. The whole place
was damp and cold and so bleak.



The room was very small. The other women fell on the ground and started
crying. I wanted to cry as well, but I didn't know why. His memory of the
girl's appearance was strong, but little came through on her character. All
I knew about her was that she was young and scared out of her mind.



"What does he want?" I kept asking myself. "How can I please him? Does he
want me to cry? What am I supposed to be doing? What is this place?"



The next thing I knew, the door to the cage opened and he came back. He made
us line up and stick out our arms. From his robe he removed several hypos
filled with a dark blue liquid. To each women he gave an injection. When he
came to me, he selected a very different hypo, a large one filled with a
dark amber. The pain was terrible. I fell to my knees and grabbed his robe.
I looked up into his dark face.



"What is it you want? What do you want me to do? I don't understand. Am I to
beg? Cry?"



My stomach knotted and I almost passed out. He tired to walk away, but I won
't let go.



"What do you want?" I begged.



He raised his hand. He was going to strike me. I kept looking at him. He
raised his fist even further, but I didn't turn my face.



"Please," I begged. "I'll be whoever you want."



He lowered his hand and softly put his palm on the top of my head. He looked
down at me and said nothing. One of the Nymans pulled my hands off his robe.
He left me in that dirty dark cage.



The other women rolled on the ground in pain. I felt pain, but not like
theirs. I knew I was changing. I could felt it in my legs, my face, and my
breasts. My skin was changing, so where my bones.



Somewhere in the shadows he was watching. He waited for his drugs to do
their work.



The next morning, we were lead out of the cage. One of the women had died.
The other two had changed completely. They appeared to be no older than
twenty. They had become young sensual beauties. The transformation was
amazing. They were lead off in one direction, I was taken another.



Images quickly flashed through my mind. His was moving though his memories.
He was reliving an entire series of experiences.



I was bathed, given fresh new clothes, and told to wait in a large room. In
the room was a full length mirror. I gazed into my own reflection. His
amazing drugs had made me even more beautiful and alluring than the other
two. Every aspect of my being was perfect. No human woman ever looked like
this. I was more art than reality. I could have looked into that mirror for
days.



The door opened. He walked in and sat down. He told me to turn around and I
did. I could feel he was pleased.



"Do you like what you see?" he asked.



"Yes, very much."



He motioned for me to sit next to him. He reached out to touch my face.
Yesterday, I would have pulled away. Today, I let him touch me.



"You have a choice. You can be sold with the others, or stay here with me."



The girl he remembered didn't know what to say. She was confused and scared.
To me the answer was obvious. I knew what he wanted to hear.



"I will stay with you."



My quick answer surprised him but it also pleased him. The machine allowed
me to feel aspects of him the girl in his memories could have never known.
He was very powerful, unpredictable, and dangerous. He was capable of great
cruelty and death did not concern him.



Behind all of his power was an emptiness. He was so tired of being alone. He
had a fondness for beautiful human women. He saw something in this girl he
liked. He wasn't going to be cruel to her or me. Of that I was certain.



I became his constant and willing companion. He took me everywhere. Images
of vast cities, huge arenas, giant vessels, flashed through my mind. There
was nothing I wanted I didn't have. Two pretty girls were my personal
servants. I could do with them as I pleased. I took over this character and
played it as myself. I was enjoying all the attention.



He never asked anything of me. He never tired to undress me or whip me or
slap me. He genuinely enjoyed making me happy. He could be horribly vile and
unbelievably cruel to others, but never to me.



He had taken her to all these places. He had given her all these gifts. She
didn't appreciate them. I did.



I became completely lost in the illusion.



The fast moving images slowed. He was reliving a particular memory he liked.
We were in a room on top of a large building. It was night, and the windows
were open. He had me wearing a long white dress. My thick red hair was up in
a solid gold braid. Priceless jewels adorned my arms and neck. He admired
me. I liked it.



"I want to try something," he said. "Will you go along?"



"Of course. I want to please you."



 From his robe, he removed a small hypo with a swirling red and white liquid.
He rolled up his sleeve and injected himself. The hypo flew from his arm. I
could hear him groaning in pain. For the next few hours, he drank constantly
from a large flask. He would not allow me to touch him or help him.



"Stay away!" he screamed. "Stay away."



Finally he let out a deep sigh and dropped the empty flask. He threw off the
black robe. I couldn't believe my eyes.



He had transformed himself into a healthy human male. He was naked and
physically perfect. He motioned for me to come to him. He took the braid
from hair and ran his fingers over my face. He was different now. The
coldness was gone. He was alive and warm.



"This won't last. By morning, it will fade. This one night is all I have.
Once a year."



I held his hands and smiled at him.



"Let's enjoy it then."



His emotions flowed into me. He needed me to love him, so I did. More than
just physical love, he wanted real affection, real trust, real passion. I
didn't care how the girl in his memory acted. I gave him what he needed.



For the first time, he kissed me. He put his tongue in my mouth and probed
all around. He licked up and down the sides of my neck and kissed all over
my face. He tore off my dress and put his hands on my breasts. He licked my
nipples and bit them each very hard. It had been such a long time since
someone had touched me like he did. Since someone had wanted me as a real
lover. His mind reached out to me.



"Do you care about me?" he asked.



His eyes were blue and full of life.



"Yes, I care about you."



He lifted me off the ground and carried me to the bed.



"You can have anything you want. I'll give you anything you want."



He would have given her the universe. All he wanted was for this girl to
care about him.



His body was as perfect as mine. His muscles hard and his cock harder. When
I went down to suck him, he was so surprised. His whole dick fit in my
mouth. I gave him everything I had. He pulled me up and made me lay down. My
legs opened for him. He was so full of passion and lust. When he entered me,
he let out a loud gasp.



He gazed deep into my eyes.



"You're beautiful."



He really meant it. I held him as tight as I could. I encouraged him and
whispered to him. I did everything I could to please him.



He came over and over again. He would take a short pause and then get back
on me. When he was resting, he held me in his arms. He kept asking me what I
wanted.



Before dawn, he had his last one. The drugs were wearing off. He was quickly
aging. He wanted me to lay with him under the covers, so I did. He didn't
scare me anymore. I knew a side of him no one else saw. His girl never saw
it.



I awoke before he did. The drugs had worn off. He must have been ancient.
His skin was drawn over his bones. Blue veins ran along the surface. How
life could still be in that body was unknown to me.



In his memory, the girl was scared of his appearance, but I wasn't. I
wondered what we would do today. Go to the fights, shop; I was up for
anything.



I walked to the open windows. We were in a huge city. I noticed all the
doors in the room were unlocked. He never left the doors unlocked. Now was
her chance to flee. In his memory, she ran and I was forced to run with her.
I didn't want to run, I wanted to stay. She fled out the doors and down the
halls. Soon I was in the streets, lost among the busy crowds.



My temples hurt and my ears buzzed. The eight hours had ended. I slowly sat
up. The tech gave me a glass of water.



"You okay Sara? You sure made some strange sounds. The meters were off the
charts. That must have been intense. Are you okay?"



I rubbed my temples. It was all over. No jewels were on my wrists, no
diamonds were pinned my ears, no long thick red hair hung on my shoulders.



"I'm okay."



The guest had already left. I thought he might want to talk to me, but I
suppose not. I wasn't his beautiful girl anymore. I took a long hot shower.
So many things had happened. In my mind, I had been so many places. A few
days off would be needed.



The street was empty. It was dark and late. Tonight I could afford a
shuttle, but I walked just as I always did. Past the street hookers, the bug
renters, the hypo peddlers.



When I turned a corner, he was waiting, alone. In his open palm were my two
talons. In his raspy voice, he spoke.



"You changed things. She wasn't like that."



"I'm sorry. I thought that was what you wanted."



He nodded his head. He was quiet for a moment, then he spoke.



"Did you think she ever cared for me?"



He wanted the truth.



"No. She was afraid of you. She never understood you."



"Should I look for her?"



"Let her go."



He let out a deep sigh. He handed me two talons and then two more. He was
about to walk away. I reached out and touched his face.



"I care about you."



He pulled down his hood. His eyes were black, but not quite so empty.



"You would be with me?"



"If you'll let me."



A small but real smile came to his worn face. From his robe he removed a
blue hypo.



"Close yourself in your room, inject this into your arm. Drink lots of
water."



He turned to walk away. I hurried to catch up.



"Wait! Let me come with you."



He stopped and looked at me. His face was so sad.



"I gave her everything and she ran from me."



"I won't run away. I understand you. I know you."



He softly touched my cheek.



"No you don't."



The Nymans joined him as he walked off into the night.



The next day I gave myself the hypo. This was no illusion or dream. He didn'
t make me a work of art, he only took away the damage time had done.



My guest had given me six talons and a new start. Maybe I could get it right
this time.

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