by Cameron Hale
Her eyes crinkled in amusement at the sight of the quaint gearshift knob protruding between the smoky leather seats. McLachlin could only guess as to what she stood to gain by stealing the car. Certainly it meant great status in the resistance ranks for someone so young, and status in any echelon of society always meant power. The woman’s professional demeanor slipped back into place when she suddenly straightened and pulled a metallic object from one of her many deep pockets.
McLachlin knew it was a jammer even before she placed it on the door track. “Seen that movie before, sweetheart,” he said. Hooked and anxiously waiting for her next move, he withdrew his attention long enough to move to the neon-lit bar to pour himself a scotch on the rocks. She was painstakingly thorough in her checking. Knowing there would be no patrols on private grounds, she took her time.
Finally, she slipped into the driver's seat. McLachlin's fingers eagerly stabbed the matrix. Her head jerked as the door slid shut and crushed the jammer in the track. Switching the audio to maximum, McLachlin waited expectantly for the game to begin.
Silence greeted him. The woman did not panic. Sitting quietly, she carefully studied her surroundings and stared intently at the driver's console. Only her slightly increased breathing betrayed her. McLachlin smiled with grudging respect. She was good all right, perhaps almost good enough to beat him at the game. His fingers caressed the matrix. The car purred to life, panel lights flashing in a myriad of colorful patterns.
With a lightning fast response, the woman’s fingers flew to the ignition controls, her concentration unwavering as the car veered onto the private driveway. Its midnight blue sheen flashed through the cover of trees flanking the lane. Ahead, the automatic gate to the property swung open, ushering her onto a little used country road.
McLachlin followed the woman's darting movements in her attempt to disable the controls. The odd word or phrase floated from concealed speakers, but disappointingly, no real display of fear. His eyes narrowed. Deftly, he re-routed the car toward the abandoned quarry some forty miles distant. Usually the last phase of the game, he decided to put the woman to the test now and jacked the speed up to 150 mph.
She bit her lip and grimly hung on as the car bolted jarringly along the narrow, potholed road. Her eyes peered at snatches of whizzing landscape briefly illuminated by the halogen headlights. Anger etched her face. McLachlin felt a growing excitement in his loins. The quarry was over two hundred feet wide and ninety feet deep. The woman would definitely have something to say in those seconds before the retros fired and sent the car soaring safely back onto the road on the other side.
McLachlin sighed and sank into the armchair. Setting his drink on the floor, his hand strayed to the prominent bulge in his tight leather trousers. One by one he released the metal studs until his hard-on bounced free. Huge and pale, engorged blue veins crisscrossed it like a roadmap. His cock wavered like a blind subterranean beast. He lovingly gripped it and began to stroke it in a familiar pattern until it shuddered in his hand. Not once did his eyes stray from the screens, his breath quickening at the sight of the woman trapped in the car. Uttering only a single, muted cry, his cock fountained a hot stream of come.
Almost reluctantly, he released his cock and rose. Retreating briefly into the bathroom, he emerged a moment later and smiled at the screens. Shit, this is going to be good, he thought. Previous chasers had all been men and boringly predictable after a certain point. The woman was different, exciting, the best ever. His eyes half-closed as the car churned up the miles before the quarry.
Quite abruptly, the woman turned and directly faced the miniature camera concealed in the visor. She smiled with such feline cunning that McLachlin was momentarily rooted to the spot.
“I know you’re watching, you twisted shit,” she said. “And your pathetic little game isn’t going to work. I’ve known all along that the car is rigged.” She laughed tauntingly. “Hell, why do you think I came? Problem here, McLachlin, is that you’ve been living alone in your ivory tower for far too long. You’re not the only one who can play.”
She scooted back against the plushly sculpted driver’s seat. To McLachlin’s astonishment, she began to slip out of her camosuit.
“Well, I’ll be fucked,” he muttered with a half-smile.
“Not yet,” the woman answered, “but maybe we can work something out.”
His eyes widened at the sight of taut, naked flesh emerging from the camosuit. Discarding it to the floor, the woman raised her well-muscled thighs and perched her heels on the edge of the seat. McLachlin’s gaze pivoted from the full amber-nippled breasts to the gleaming wet folds of her cunt. Below, the dusky ring of her anus peeked like the entrance to a forbidden cave. Reaching for the drink abandoned on the floor, he took a quick swig to ease the sudden tightness in his throat.
Slowly, deliberately, the woman began to fondle her breasts until the nipples hardened. Her hands dropped down her slender body, her fingers tracing patterns across tawny skin. Now they roamed the black hillock of her pubic mound before straying to her parted lips. Glancing obliquely in the direction of the concealed camera, she suddenly swung herself over the gearshift and impaled herself on it. The cold hardness of the contoured knob elicited a gasp from her as she worked it into her cunt and began to pump her hips.
Sinking into the armchair, McLachlin watched her with a mixture of disgust and fascination. He had not touched a woman since his twenties, their needy, clingy behavior a repulsion. Yet, as he watched this woman…
Oblivious to the car’s harrowing speed, she closed her eyes and threw back her head as she came with an almost jubilant cry. Her body shuddered from the intensity.
McLachlin glanced almost in surprise at his burgeoning hard-on.
As if sensing his scrutiny, the woman smiled and slowly extricated herself from the slick gearshift knob. Flushed, her breathing heavy, she casually draped herself against the seat. “Was it good for you, McLachlin? Then again, maybe you’d rather watch me shove it up my tight little ass? Or are the rumors wrong about that?”
Her hand strayed to a pocket of her rumpled camosuit and produced an egg-shaped object marked with a peculiar pattern of tiny illuminated insets. McLachlin bolted upright from the chair and stared incredulously at the screen, a half-formed exclamation on his lips.
“Don’t look so shocked,” she said, raising the glinting egg to the camera. “Do you really think you're going to come out the winner this time? You bastard, I bet you don't even remember what you did to my father thirteen years ago. Garrick Stone, executed on false charges of techno theft, leaving a ten-year old daughter to fend for herself on the streets. Not that you would have given a shit about a ten-year who was kept as a pet by two brothers. They kept me on leash when they fucked me, did you know that? And they filmed it all so that when they didn’t have enough to pay for another snort of Heaven, they sold bootleg copies on the black market. They were doing quite well until I slit their throats one night while they slept.” Her eyes glittered mockingly. “Well, Mr. McLachlin, brainchild of the system, this is for my father, and every man that ever used me.”
McLachlin's mind swam with a gamut of long-forgotten faces until an event surfaced in his mind, an event in which he had engineered the arrest of an innocent colleague to defray suspicion from his own illicit activities…
The sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach confirmed that the woman was indeed Mariah Garrick.
A taunting laugh greeted him. Mariah fingered the egg suggestively. “So you do remember,” she said, oblivious to car’s bucking motion as it approached the quarry. “I thought you might with a bit of help.” She tapped one of the panels on the egg. “I think the police will, too, considering that our little escapade has been recorded.”
He flinched as she smashed the egg against the gearshift. A blinding explosion filled the screens and echoed throughout the room. Reflexively, he darted behind the armchair, the unfamiliar sensation of sweat beading on his forehead. His pulse raced uncomf
ortably, his breathing labored. The screens flared and hissed to silence. Slowly, he raised his head and stared at them for several moments. In the distance, the staccato drone of a police gunship steadily approached.
Grimly, he smiled as the first searchlights scythed the house. A monotone voice hailed through a loudspeaker. He reached for his half empty drink and raised it in mock salute. “Game point,” he said.
GROUND ZERO
Three weeks after graduation, the giddy anticipation that Tisa had felt at the approaching end of the final semester of high school soon faded with the faces of her virtual reality classmates and teachers. Now, the endless, empty months of summer stretched before her. Wearied of the usual activities of going to the beach, shopping and parties, not even the new car that comprised her graduation and eighteenth birthday present held her interest.
She had overslept again that morning, missing her parents for the third day. Busy with their hectic schedules, they had yet to comment or perhaps even notice. Her younger brother and sister were spending the summer at the New Frontier lunar youth camp, their absence at least some compensation. Solitude suited her mood.
Naked, droplets of water still glistening on her skin from her shower, she wandered aimlessly around the house. Nestled on a cliff, its sweeping translucent walls overlooked a panoramic ocean vista. The sparkling blue water seamlessly merged with an infinite horizon. For a moment, she imagined she was suspended far above the world, her form no more substantial than the fleeting shapes of seabirds. Through force of her will alone, she could travel anywhere in the world and be anyone she wanted for as long as she wanted.
Angelically blonde, she possessed the kind of scrumptious looks that belonged in a box of chocolates. She perused her flawless complexion and thickly lashed ice blue eyes. Wolf eyes, her friends called them, eyes that hid more than they revealed. Distractedly, she traced the outline of her profile on the tempered glass. Her hands drifted further down the smooth, creamy terrain of her body. They cupped full, firm breasts, the rosy nipples stiffening at her touch. Straying further, they surfed the rounded contours of her hips and the narrow valley of her waist, pausing finally at the carefully trimmed mound of golden pubic hair. Her fingers sought her moistening lips and kneaded the swelling knob of her clit.
She sighed. Though others had explored her, only she had truly mastered the rhythm that would shortly bring her to come. Her breath quickened with her touch. Squatting low, she spread her thighs and fingered herself until her body spasmed from release.
Through half-closed eyes she watched her reflection in the glass. Flushed, breathless, aching for the sensations that at least made her feel temporarily alive, she lay back on the plush carpeting and propped her legs wide against the window. Her turgid flesh beckoned, the wetness gleaming against her thighs. Again she rubbed and kneaded, inserting her fingers into both holes until her body thudded resoundingly on the floor. This time she cried out, her voice almost intrusive in the silent house.
She lay staring at the vaulted ceiling until her breathing calmed. Snippets of azure sky peeked from a mosaic of skylights. Too soon the excitement of her arousal faded. She sighed. Things had always come too easily for her, be it popularity, good grades, or even a good finger fuck. Since she could remember, the pleasure, the satisfaction factor in her achievements had gradually dulled with the ease of her accomplishments.
Rising to her feet, her gaze swept the shimmering blue domain beyond her insular world. She felt an intense and sudden longing for some challenge or intriguing new avenues to pursue. The future was already mapped, the requisite further education at a prestigious university following the path of predictability that led to either an appropriate career or even more appropriate marriage.
Marriage—the concept seemed so foreign, so outdated in an era that edged toward the stars. She had certainly had her share of boyfriends, but none had moved her in a way she expected or wanted. It was too easy—everything was too easy, she reflected, at least until the week she had spent at Cassie’s last summer while her parents were away. The foursome Cassie had planned for an evening of fun and games in the pool had been augmented by a generously spiked punch. Tisa recalled the warm lapping of the water, the friction of wet naked flesh pressing her against the hand painted tile. Cassie was in the kitchen preparing more punch, but the two boys, a pair of exotic brothers from the Pan Asian territories, weren’t interested in a refill.
She sighed. Dark and handsome, they entertained her with their skillful manipulation of her body. Though she had since forgotten their names, their tongues spoke volumes as they simultaneously sucked, probed and finally penetrated her. They had spread her across the steps, the waterline churning from her writhing body. Sensing that she was about to come, the brothers withdrew their hungry mouths and sandwiched her. While the one thrust into her cunt, the other probed her anus.
Initially she resisted—none of her other boyfriends had been imaginative enough to venture to that unexplored territory, but after yielding to the younger brother’s questing fingers, her resistance faded. It was something new, something different, a drastic departure from the routine that her life had become.
She stared blankly at her reflection in the window. Stepping closer to the glass, she turned her lips up in a smile, then a frown. Neither made a difference in her expression. A series of musical chimes signaled midday, the delicate melody gently banishing the suffocating silence. She returned to her room to dress and headed for the home theater.
Inside, a multi-dimensional stage dominated the room. Its huge oval metallic base shimmered kaleidoscopically. A circular bank of smart seats each with individual refreshment units flanked the stage. Opting to use touch controls rather than voice, Tisa removed a flickering wand from the primary wall panel and activated the skylink. Instantly, the stage transformed into a dizzyingly real image of an underwater exploration in the Marianas Trench. Briefly, she watched the deep sea probe navigate through the crushing depths before flicking through an endless selection of terrestrial and offworld stations.
Finding nothing of interest, she cancelled the link and tossed the wand onto one of the seats. Hunger prompted her to the kitchen to fix some lunch. Mellow sunshine filtered through a huge, geometric skylight, adding the only touch of warmth to the austere chrome and granite style that her mother favored. Immaculate as always, there was little for the cleaner unit to do in the wake of her mother’s obsessive neatness.
Tisa rummaged through the sub-zero fridge and retrieved an individually wrapped casserole. The contents were irrelevant, the list of ingredients ignored as she placed it into the convection dome. While it warmed, she placed a call on a nearby voxphone.
The insistent double beep continued for almost a minute. She was about to hang up when a young girl finally answered the call. A face caked in a blue mask appeared on screen, the look made more bizarre by the luxuriant mane of rich copper hair framing it.
"Nice timing, Tisa," she said. "Can't a girl have a facial in peace? I was just going to do my hair next."
Her soft green eyes crinkled in amusement as she reached for a mister bottle.
“Leave it, Cassie,” Tisa said. “Blue mud suits you.”
“Bitch,” she replied with a beguilingly dimpled smile.
Tisa laughed. As always, Cassie had a way of lifting her mood. The oven chimed. Tisa removed the casserole and began to eat. “I see you've been watching the beauty channel again,” she said between steaming mouthfuls. “Honestly, Cassie, I don’t see why you find home treatments so fun. All that fuss and mess. I’d rather be pampered in a salon.”
Cassie began to massage a gooey brown substance into her hair. “Well, The Retreat was fully booked. Mom hasn’t given me a credit line for any of the other salons, so I’m stuck. We’ve got Meghan Brewster’s birthday party coming up.” She chuckled conspiratorially. “You know who’s going to be there, of course. Chaz Somers.”
“I forgot all about the party,” Tisa said.
Cassie
cocked a delicately plucked eyebrow. “Forgot? Forgot about the tightest ass in town? I mean, Meghan’s using her parents’ yacht again for the party. Well, you know what happened last time—Chas and Katy Milner, friendly and naked in the spa and who walks in just as she’s sucking him off? Jennie Baines, Chas’s girlfriend!” She giggled. “I’d say it was more than just a case of foot in the mouth. I heard Chas is a good seven incher. Bet that feels good on a cold night. I’d love nothing more than to dig my nails in those tight cheeks of his while…”
She paused, noticing Tisa’s silence. “Tisa? Hello? This is a two-way call, isn’t it?”
Tisa set her fork down. “Sorry—I was thinking about something.”
“No kidding? So where are your parents today? Haven’t seen them in a while.”
“Dad’s at zero-gee golf. Mom’s having her jawline lifted again.”
Cassie nodded gravely. ""I remember Mom drove us crazy last year with her ass. Every time she looked in the mirror she figured it was getting bigger. I swear, she acted like it was some alien life form growing down there. Problem is there was nothing wrong with it. Never has been. She got so much sucked out I’m surprised she still has anything to sit on.”
"Your mom’s obsessed,” Tisa said. “She’s always had a great figure.”
“Tell her, not me.”
Tisa glanced around the spotless kitchen. “Then again, I guess everyone has their weakness.” She rose and dropped the remains of her lunch down the disposer. "So, want to come over?"
“Sure. Got anything planned?”
“Don’t know yet. We can talk about it when you get here.”
“Okay, give me about an hour.”
* * *
After waiting an hour and a half, Tisa called back to find no answer. Assuming Cassie was on her way, she returned to the theater and activated the skylink. She was watching a transmission from one of the Martian terraforming colonies when the image a the domed habitat flanked by vast, ruddy canyons sharply jumped and disintegrated into a swirling mass of chaotically flashing pixels. A jarring shriek shattered the narrative. Tisa gasped and jumped back. She stabbed at the control wand, but nothing responded. Worried that the expensive system might have been damaged, she dropped the wand and rushed to the primary wall panel. Her fingers flew across the override controls. Again, nothing responded.