“Let him do it!” the Voice commanded. “This is a test for Lewis!”
“And when am I going to leave this place?” asked the redheaded Lana Craft. “You promised me her body!”
“When she comes to save dear old Lewis here. You’ll have to help me though. I can’t take her on my own.”
As the simulation reset—causing the dying tiger to disappear out of existence—Lewis realized the ultimate plan of the one who had trapped him inside a computer program. The Voice wanted to watch Lana Craft suffer for all of eternity, and what was better than trapping her in a simulation where death was around every turn? Where pain seemed real? Where dying felt like one last gasp for air? He could do whatever he wanted, create whatever scenario pleased his sick, twisted mind. Lana Craft would always be there for him to torture in new ways.
But the real world would notice the absence of one of Britain’s most notorious globe-trotting thrill-seekers. The computer system wasn’t just a one-way trip, he assumed. Information could be downloaded and uploaded.
“So you see,” the Voice said, sensing that Lewis had figured it out. “She’s every bit like the real one, but stronger, faster. But she isn’t just a program. She has a mind of her own, wants and needs. She’s more human than some people I know.”
Lewis turned his head toward the sky. “So, the real Lana is trapped in here forever, and she takes her place? You … upload her consciousness to Lana’s real body?”
“Correct.”
Lewis shook his head. “Unreal.”
“But enough of my schemes. Let’s get back to you, Lewis. The real Lana Craft would never dare hurt a tiger, but what if she had to? What if, to survive, she had to take the beast down?”
The doppelgänger shoved the bow and arrow into his hands. Lewis was unfamiliar with the device, never having held one in his entire life. He knew Ms. Craft was probably an expert at it. She was an expert at everything it seemed.
The enormous cat pounced from the jungle floor, a dash of orange from the corner of his eye. He felt the teeth sinking in before he ever pulled the arrow back. Lewis fell to the dirt, blood spilling from his mouth.
“Again.”
Lewis aligned the string into the nock with trembling fingers. It was harder to pull back than he first thought, though Lana’s arms were easily capable of it. He raised the head of it toward the target, spotting the feline underneath some large leaves. It came leaping out at him, snarling with its claws aimed at his body.
The arrow shot to the left, missing by more than a foot.
Lewis went to the dirt, screaming as the tiger ripped him open. The torn flesh peeled back like the skin of an orange, while all the warm entrails were a feast for the carnivore.
He didn’t die right away. Intestines were pulled out, strung up like fat sausages. The tiger gnawed at them, apparently fascinated with their taste. Then, it went back for the rest of the meal, munching on internal organs while Lewis’s consciousness began to fade into the dark abyss that awaited him.
“Again.”
Lewis was more prepared this time, nocking the arrow to the bowstring quickly and pulling the fletching back to his cheek. He had seen bows in movies and understood the basic concept of the weapon. There wasn’t much to it, except how to properly hold the thing and keep it all balanced.
The tiger came as it had before, sensing a fresh meal on two legs. The arrow launched away, nicking it in the foreleg.
It didn’t stop.
“Enough!” Lewis screamed, while the tiger’s claws dug into his hip and sent him spinning to the ground. Then it was on top of him, biting into his neck, making sure that he wouldn’t put up a fight.
And, like every other time, Lewis felt it all, the razor-sharp teeth piercing his flesh, the hot breath on his skin, and the warm blood leaving every hole in his neck. He convulsed on the dirt, arms and legs undergoing spasms. The darkness came once more as the tiger twisted his neck, severing the connection between his mind and body.
“Ha! Again!”
Lewis had become accustomed to being Lana Craft. Hell, it almost felt natural now, to have her breasts and hips, and the rest of her body. When he glanced down, everything was as expected, female and naked, identical to her in every way imaginable.
“Use the bow,” the doppelgänger told him. “Please the Master. You won’t leave until the task is finished.”
Lewis stared at her. “What’s the point? There’ll just be another challenge, and another after that. You know, I’m kinda used to dying now.”
It happened in slow motion. The tiger returned—that was the one certain thing about this world—only, it didn’t aim for Lewis. Instead, the orange cat pounced on the other Lana, tackling her to the ground and making shreds of her clothes. For a moment, her body spilled pints of crimson-red blood through the countless gashes, until she disappeared in a flash of light and reappeared standing, unharmed.
The tiger, momentarily confused by the disappearance of its food, turned, spotted Lewis, and took him down, biting into his neck.
“Again, you idiot! Again!” the Voice screamed. “Actually, forget it. You don’t want to play the game? That’s not a choice. We move on with the plan.”
Lewis reappeared in the jungle, alive and uninjured.
“But, you don’t have my body ready,” the doppelgänger said.
“We have a body ready. Not Lana’s, but a body nonetheless. It’ll do for now.”
Suddenly, the world shifted around them. Fragments of the manor reappeared out of nothing, casting rays of bluish light as they expanded and connected together, reforming the master bedroom of Lana Craft’s massive mansion. In seconds, the jungle was gone.
Lewis, thrilled to be anywhere else, refrained from expressing any joy. He knew the Voice was watching. He always watched. Even now, his eyes were everywhere, observing from every angle.
On the quick trip back to the manor, the doppelgänger’s clothes had disappeared. Lewis didn’t question it; weirder things had happened while being stuck inside the computer simulation. She was a reflection of his own body, curvy and toned, a hint of muscle showing beneath her smooth, creamy skin.
When Lewis stepped toward her, she came toward him, copying the motion perfectly. She really was a living mirror image, a shadow made from flesh and bone.
“I have dreams of the real world,” she told him. “Places beyond the limits of my home.”
“And what are in them?” asked Lewis, reminding himself that he was talking to a computer program.
“Nothingness. Emptiness. A haze I can’t see through. I have no knowledge of anything on the outside, but dreams are supposed to reflect my desires, are they not?”
Lewis shrugged. “Sometimes. Do you have nightmares? Those aren’t so pleasant.”
“Only one. I never have the real body that I was promised. That’s my fear. I was told I would leave this place.”
He almost felt sorry for her. Lana Craft’s redheaded doppelgänger wasn’t a real person, but her personality had been programmed like one. She wasn’t evil by any means—just a puppet of the same man whose voice came through the walls. Lewis had never seen such an authentic artificial intelligence. He would’ve commended the Voice for that accomplishment, had he not been the plaything in a fake world designed to entertain the most perverse of minds.
The woman raised her hand, the palm of which glowing for a fraction of a second.
“Your desires aren’t so drastic. You crave what you see right in front of you, the woman I was made from. She turns you on more than any other.”
Lewis blushed. “You reading my mind now?”
“Among other things. Your mind and this place are connected. I want the process to be as pleasurable as possible.”
“Process?” Lewis repeated, making sure he heard the word right.
Then, out of nothing, the doppelgänger’s waist shimmered with something new, something that hadn’t been there a moment before. When the light faded, Lewis saw that a black st
rap was wrapped around her body, a leathery piece of underwear.
Attached to the front was a vibrant blue dildo.
“Hey … w-wait a second.”
“Sexual pleasure,” she told him. “The human mind is simple in what it craves the most. I am your fantasy as you see me, the skin I currently live inside.”
“Hey, that’s … uh … fantastic, but what about me? I’d rather switch roles here.”
“I cannot change you,” she explained. “Be still. You’re already aroused. I can sense your heart racing. Fighting it will only make it worse.”
If Lewis closed his eyes, it was Lana’s voice speaking to him, that same sweet melody that could convince him to jump off a cliff, if she wished it so. He knew the woman wasn’t real, but there was little tangible evidence to support that. Her skin was soft and warm, and her lips supple, all like the real things. She kissed him slow, lips locking, a tongue casually exploring both of their mouths. Lewis didn’t pull away when he felt it snaking between his lips. He kissed her back, exhaling hard as her hands came wrapping around his naked female body.
Goddammit, Lewis thought to himself, knowing that his arousal was starting to take over. Being in Lana’s body was hot, no matter the circumstance. And having an identical twin kissing him? Well …
Lewis’s first instinct was to find somewhere more comfortable for the both of them. He clumsily wandered backwards, doing everything but keeping a straight line. When the back of his calves touched the bed, he fell down, temporarily leaving the doppelgänger’s grasp. His breasts went into a frenzy, slapping back and forth as the bed moved with them both.
“I know little of lust,” the woman explained, “but I’ve quickly learned from reading you. You find me attractive. You don’t want to, but that doesn’t stop it from happening. You can’t help yourself.”
Lewis moaned as the woman climbed atop him, straddling his naked, sexy form. He wiggled underneath her, settling his round bottom comfortably into the mattress. The spot between his thighs was already beginning to feel warm. Lana’s body was reacting again, as it had before.
The doppelgänger leaned in close, red hair falling forward and tickling his cheek. He reached around her, grabbing her round posterior, pulling their bodies together. The sensation of their breasts touching for the first time sent a spark straight to his crotch.
“Yet, you still try to resist,” she continued. “Why?”
Lewis stopped himself from kissing her again. “Because, it’s not right.”
“And why is that?”
“You’re not … oh, shit.”
“Not real? Do you feel it when I do this?”
Lewis winced as a hand cupped his breast. The sudden contact surprised him, but the feeling of her fingers pinching the soft flesh quickly became pleasurable. His eyes closed for a fraction of a second. He relished the moment as the nipple hardened against her palm. She squeezed it a little harder, coaxing a sharp exhale with a near-silent moan.
“Feels real, doesn’t it?”
Lewis nodded.
“And … what about this?”
He didn’t need to see where the hand was going to next. Five slender fingers slipped between his thighs, rubbing across his female mound, across Lana Craft’s pussy.
Lewis’s back tightened, arching up slightly. The fingertips probed his moist folds, touching the one place that had been so delightful before. He couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from turning upward. The satisfaction wasn’t just from the direct contact either, but also the weight of another warm body atop him, a partner holding him close. His lower abdomen seemed to burn hotter, a flame tasting an abundance of oxygen.
He moaned softly. And yet, Lewis knew that they were being watched.
The bastard’s probably jerking off right now, he assumed. Fuck, who wouldn’t?
The other woman kissed him deeper, harder, grinding her equally feminine body into his. Lewis returned the favor, turning the both of them to their sides.
His hand roamed across to one of her breasts, squeezing it as she had his. It was the same, soft and pliable, easily manipulated by his fingers. The nipple hardened instantly. He flicked it back and forth before wrapping it up between his thumb and forefinger, twisting.
The doppelgänger gasped, breaking the kiss. “Wow. I’ve never … done that.”
“Really?” Lewis was shocked. He would’ve thought his captor would’ve given her the knowledge of everything sexual. Maybe she was a beta version, incomplete.
He couldn’t help but smile. Here was a woman less experienced at being female than him! Well, in the sexual sense anyway. She was clearly more suited to the body in every other aspect. Lewis wouldn’t want to find himself on the wrong end of her bow and arrow, for instance.
Lewis leaned over, taking the stiffened nub of flesh between his lips. Lana’s doppelgänger squealed in delight, throwing her head back, sending her bright red locks spiraling behind her neck, coming to rest on her bare, slender shoulder. The nipple enlarged some more as he circled it with his tongue, leaving it covered with drool.
“Oh!” his partner panted, her throat rumbling long after, her lips spread in a perfect ring shape.
Lewis pushed himself against her, removing the breast from his mouth. Her fake cock poked him in the thigh, reminding him of its existence again. It was a strange toy, bluish and plastic, a glowing pulse coming from the interior. He stared at it, trying not to imagine it going up inside of him. Once was enough! Lewis still remembered much of what had happened in Tibet, including up on that mountain. Letting Lana Craft have her way with him had been out of necessity, not legitimate lust.
And this version of Lana had a cock, too. It just wasn’t a real one.
Then, the doppelgänger pushed a hand between his legs, and it was all temporarily forgotten. The fingers grazed his sensitive folds, and Lewis found himself moaning with that same girlish voice echoing through his lips. He was already soaked down there, as evidenced by the returning hand and four glistening fingertips.
The other Lana offered her juice-covered digits, and Lewis tasted himself for the first time in this strange, digital world. It was sweeter than he first imagined, causing him to lick it all up. He wondered if the flavor was accurate or not. Unless the Voice had direct access to Lana Craft’s real body, that probably wasn’t the case. Either way, Lewis approved.
There was an abundance of it now, coating the insides of his thighs. The smell of it filled the room, surrounding their naked bodies.
The other Lana detected it too, opening up her nostrils.
“I can’t wait to experience that on the other side,” she told him.
Through his lust-filled haze, Lewis remembered the plan. The Voice was silent, but Lana’s doppelgänger was still trying to get to the outside world. There wasn’t any clear path to escape this place, or at least none that he saw. The master bedroom was just like the real one at the Craft manor, and the hall led to several doors. Perhaps one of those …
… or that luminous blue dildo attached to her crotch.
“Good guess,” the doppelgänger muttered.
Suddenly, she was on top of him, a hand around each of his wrists. Lewis thrashed back and forth, seeing the end of the dildo coming for his crotch. It did no good.
“Hey, wait a second! That’s … that’s my body on the other side! You can’t just take it!”
The redheaded Lana Craft smirked, pinning him down with her strong arms. “I’ve waited too long. Master says I can leave, so I’m leaving.”
Lewis tried to push away, but she was too powerful for him, her grip too tight. The head of the blue, phallic toy came between his pinned thighs, pushing onward toward his slit. When the tip touched his sensitive, damp hole, Lewis winced, gritting his teeth together. No amount of internal constrictive force kept it out. It slid right in, stretching the inside of his pussy around its ribbed, plastic girth.
“Oh God!” the doppelgänger screamed.
The entire room filled
with a bluish light. It was so bright between their bodies that Lewis had to look elsewhere, squinting so as to not be blinded by it. A tremendous heat burned against his loins, hot and tingly. And still, the light became brighter, turning to white, hiding most of the doppelgänger’s naked body.
Lewis felt her trembling on top of him, moaning with an intensity akin to an orgasm. For a fraction of a second, her grip around his wrist weakened. He pulled his right arm free, flinging it instantly through the air with the fingers curled into a tight fist. He felt the impact of the jab against her cheek, knuckles slamming into jawbone.
Almost immediately, the light dissipated, and Lewis felt the fake cock sliding out of him. He pushed himself up, preparing to attack the dazed doppelgänger.
He stopped, eyes scanning the room. “What?”
The redheaded clone of Lana Craft was nowhere to be found. She had disappeared, leaving him alone on the bed. The only thing left behind was the strap-on harness and the blue dildo. The light inside had died out, leaving it dark and cold.
“Oh shit.”
The factory was like many on the East End of London, old and abandoned, a rare survivor of German bombings during World War II. The inside of it had been emptied out, probably long ago.
“Hello? Lewis?” Lana Craft called out, passing under a broken skylight and stepping beside the rain coming down. It refused to let up, and there was a large pool of it already. The sound of the drops splattering in the puddle could be heard throughout the entire building.
Her voice had a strange echo.
The quadrotor helicopter had followed a black van all the way here. It was Mason’s. She knew it wasn’t anyone else’s. The blame had persisted, behind a thickening wall of hate. She hadn’t seen him for nearly five years, yet he never forgot. Now, it had gone too far.
The empty factory stretched on, shrouded in darkness. Lana expected to find a few vagrants living indoors, out of the rain. Either that, or some smelly rats. The downpours always brought them to the surface, lest they drown in their little holes.
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