by Cameron Hale
The hellish image swirled and eddied around her like a spectral entity. She flinched as something bitterly cold brushed her cheek. Her flesh pimpled at the unpleasant contact. Now it touched her hand. She shivered.
“Stop, dammit!” she cried, pounding the override controls once again.
The image flared, expanded and winked out. She stared at the flashing wand. After a moment’s hesitation, she picked it up. If felt hot in her hand, and she wondered if it had somehow overheated. Though she didn’t think it was possible, she knew of no other explanation for the malfunction. She used the theater regularly—there was nothing complicated in its operation.
The in-house sentry softly called out. “Attention, Cassie Williamson is at the door.”
“Admit,” she responded. She tossed the wand onto a seat and hurried from the theater.
She found Cassie pacing in the living room. Clad in a simple pair of jeans and a trendy light reflective sweatshirt in swirling rainbow colors, she appeared unusually tense.
“God, the strangest thing just happened,” Tisa said, noting how similarly she and her friend dressed.
“Have you seen the news?” Cassie asked.
Tisa shook her head. “Funny enough, I was just going through the channels.”
“Some freak solar flare just disrupted half the fucking planet.”
Tisa’s head swiveled toward the theater. “So that’s what happened. I thought I screwed something up big time. I was watching something from Mars and the transmission suddenly went ballistic.”
“What about the house controls? Any problems there? I was stuck on the translink for almost ten minutes until the diagnostics cleared.”
Tisa frowned. “Now that you mention it, I didn’t notice any other malfunctions. The house let you in…”
“Let’s check out the theater just to be on the safe side,” Cassie said. “At least if it is fucked, you won’t get the blame.”
* * *
“Do you smell that?” Cassie asked.
Tisa nodded, her eyes darting around the silent, empty theater. Nothing appeared any different, yet she could not shake a peculiar sensation that something had changed. She sniffed. “Smells familiar—like the air before a storm,” she said. “Maybe climate control’s damaged.”
Cassie reached for the flickering control wand.
“Wait,” Tisa cried, snatching it from her hand. “Let me have that. I’d better make sure this thing is working before my parents get back.”
“Why don’t you just run a diagnostic?”
“No. It’ll be logged. My parents can check it.”
Cassie shot her an irritated look. “Honestly, Tisa, what’s the stress? If the flare did any damage, it’s hardly your fault.”
Tisa frowned. “I just want to make sure it’s okay.”
She cautiously activated the skylink. The polished image of an auburn-haired newscaster materialized. She spoke crisp, simultaneously translated Euroling amidst an interactive global grid showing the areas affected by the flare.
Cassie whistled. “Wow, that was one hell of a…”
The image shuddered and jumped.
“Let’s see what else is on,” Tisa said. Station after station revealed broadcasts in various stages of progress depending upon the communications lag to the outer colonies. She shook her head. “It looks a lot worse than…”
What looked like a transmission from one of the Jovian moons froze, capturing the announcer’s face in a grimace. The image stretched like a string of warm taffy, the man’s voice mired in a slow-motion growl. Shadowy forms superimposed the announcer and swirled into a vortex. Colors bled into a surreal tsunami that crested and dripped.
Cassie reflexively stepped back. “What the hell?”
The image shuddered, dimmed and flared. Tisa tried to change stations, but the transmissions each accordioned into the last until only a chaotic mosaic of voices, faces and locations remained. Almost like an undercurrent, a repetitive pattern of scenes emerged from the blur. Tisa frowned, unable to make sense of them until an image of herself rose from the visual stew.
She stared, unable to utter the words wedged in her throat.
“Tisa?” Cassie asked, her voice edged with fear. “What the fuck is going on?”
Tisa shook her head mutely, her logical mind not quite able to accept the sight of herself naked, in a pool, but not just with two brothers, but with several men of varying nationalities. The scene changed to a close-up underwater view. Encircled by writhing bodies, she watched herself being passed from cock to cock, each one eagerly filling her cunt, her ass, her mouth. What she could not take she masturbated with her hands, her head bobbing above the water amidst a cluster of bodies. The furious pumping and thrusting churned the water like piranhas devouring prey.
Now Cassie entered the scene. Also naked, she stepped into the shallow end of the pool and reclined on the last step. Spreading her legs, she began to fondle herself, her fingers alternately teasing her engorged cunt and slipping inside. Some of the men not actively fucking Tisa noticed and waded toward her. There was no preamble, no words, just the convergence of bodies above Cassie’s provocative laughter.
Cassie muttered under her breath and stepped away. Tisa caught the movement in her peripheral vision, but felt powerless to react.
I know what you want…
Tisa gasped and whirled toward Cassie. “Did you say something?”
Cassie stared white-faced at her and emphatically shook her head.
Tisa hurled the wildly flashing wand to the ground. “Let’s get out of here!” she cried.
As she reached for Cassie, the image flared with an infernal roar and encompassed the theater. Somewhere behind them, the door slammed shut. She briefly made contact with Cassie’s hand before a violent force snatched them apart and cocooned them in a shimmering vortex of pixels. Tisa screamed as the cold caressed her body, the contact so intense it felt like physical violation. Caught up in a dizzying spin, she battled against a wave of vertigo.
“Cassie?” she cried, flailing helplessly.
“Over—here,” came a distant, frightened reply.
Tisa strained to find her friend amidst the maelstrom of sound and color. Gradually, the chaos subsided, allowing her glimpses of Cassie in a place that she recognized was not the theater, but was too indistinct to identify. She felt a returning sense of stability, but the relief was fleeting as she found herself in a dark chamber spectrally lit with crackling torches. Though she could not distinguish much in the obscure light, she sensed a vastness that was not contained by mere walls.
What the hell is happening here? she thought. What is this place?
Cassie’s scream echoed through the cavernous depths. Sinister laughter ensued, followed by the distant crack of a whip. Tisa strained to move, but found herself restrained by a peculiar leadenness. Her head whipped around, her throat so constricted by fear she could barely gasp Cassie’s name. Amidst the flickering torchlight, she saw Cassie’s naked form suspended in a leather latticework hammock. Her arms and legs were spread and bound with heavy, studded straps by the wrists and ankles. A black silk scarf concealed her eyes.
From the shadows, a female figure emerged. Encased by a shimmering, sinuous black fabric that was little more than a second skin, even the head was completely covered. The smoothness of the skull implied the absence of hair, and Tisa could not distinguish any opening for eyes, nose or mouth. Something about the figure itself disturbed her. The form looked human by the tight, rounded ass and full breasts, yet it seemed different in the gliding way it moved and the peculiar litheness of the limbs. In its hand it carried a cat o’ nine tails whip. An enormous black phallus comprised the handle. Its fingers continuously stroked the shiny, semi-hard object in a masturbatory fashion.
The figure approached Cassie and trailed the strips across her writhing body in a teasing, tickling fashion. Slowly, it knelt between Cassie’s spread, cleanly shaven cunt and pressed the bulbous edge of the phallus
against her swollen clit. Cassie arched and thrust her hips, her body hungrily seeking the object. A fine sheen of sweat veiled her body, her nipples rigid. The figure continued to toy with her by alternately inserting and withdrawing the phallus. Cassie struggled against her bonds, her head whipping back and forth.
“Fuck me!” she cried hoarsely. “Fuck me!”
The figure complied by ramming the phallus into her up to the hilt. Cassie screamed and bucked. Though the hammock swayed wildly, the movement did not distract the figure from its rhythmic thrusting.
Tisa gasped. She watched, at once aroused yet repelled by the heat rising in her body. What she witnessed could not be happening, but somehow it was. She swallowed to ease her dry, tight throat, her body unconsciously mimicking Cassie’s frantic movements. Her friend’s cries had become a series of guttural moans peppered by expletives.
Leaving the phallus inserted into Cassie, the figure turned slowly and looked at Tisa. Tisa shuddered, the directness of the gaze augmented by the unnerving, eyeless contact. She felt rather than saw the mocking smile.
I know what you want…
Tisa shook her head at the voice echoing in her mind. “No! You don’t know anything about me.”
Her response was met with velvety laughter.
I know everything about you. Everything. I know, because I’m you…
“Shut up!” Tisa cried. “I know who I am! I know who I am!”
Do you? Do you really know? Or do you just pretend like all your pretty little friends?
Tisa turned and stumbled away through a morass of distorted images. News broadcasts bled into documentaries, VR cinema and live expeditions. Sound and voice rose in a deafening chorus. Against the rising cadence her footsteps became mired in sludge, her calves aching from the effort.
I know what you want—the voice taunted so close she thought she felt hot breath brush the back of her neck. You like to watch—you like to taste it in your mind. You like to come in your mind…
The taunt echoed until it reached a fevered pitch. Tisa cried out and covered her ears. Sobbing, she fell to her knees.
“Leave me alone! Leave me the hell alone!”
Brief silence—no more than a fleeting interlude. Raising her head, she found herself surrounded by images radiating into infinity. At first they appeared like the transmissions she had earlier seen, but in a moment of crystal clarity, she recognized herself in scenarios that had only ever played out in the darkest, most secretive depths of her mind. She struggled to her feet. Though an intense cold nipped at her flesh, she felt a flush rise to her face. An ache she could not suppress throbbed between her legs. No matter where she looked, she found herself as the eternal spectator.
She watched a live bathhouse scene from a hacked access to the X-Core channel. What was once a half-forgotten memory exploded in vivid detail, the cleverness of a past boyfriend unlocking the restricting adult channel. Steam undulated through an obscure veil of yellow light, the dripping of water a steady cadence against the glistening bodies writhing on wooden benches. She tasted the salty tang of sweat on her lips. The musk of sex hung thickly on the air. She inhaled it and felt infuse her body.
So good…
Stepping closer, she observed a naked pair wrestle on the slick tile floor. Perfectly sculpted, their bodies moved in a primal rhythm. Muscle slapped against muscle, black locks lay plastered against damp flesh. Entwined, they resembled drunken satyrs after a bacchanal.
She smelled them now, a ripe, alluring scent. Noticing her, they watched her with dark, hungry eyes and reached for her. She felt the powerful grip of their hands, glimpsed the glistening shafts of their cocks…
With their touch still lingering on her fingers, she found herself back in the dungeon. She glanced down at her body. Tall and lithe, her flesh gleamed in a sinuous, shimmering black second skin. She ran her hands along the firm orbs of her breasts and the smooth planes of her hips and ass. Her face was a seamless canvas, her vision extending far beyond the means of ordinary eyes. She bent to pick up the whip lying by her feet. The firmness felt comfortingly familiar in her hands. Stroking it as she would a beloved pet, she smiled and surveyed her domain. Beyond, in the hammock, the hooded figure of a man lay trussed and waiting, his rigid cock imprisoned by a chain mail sheath. Cassie was gone, perhaps hurled back to the sanitized world of beaches, parties and shopping. Tisa approached the man and snapped the whip against the floor. He flinched, the cheeks of his ass nicely spread by the gaps in the hammock.
I know who I am, she thought, kicking up her pace. At last…
ISLAND
It was after three in the morning when Corinne pulled into her driveway. Stifling a yawn, she listened to the nocturnal serenade of glowcadas, a unique hybrid of cicada and fireflies. Gradually, the matchstick rhythm eased the noise buzzing in her head from the hectic recording session. In her ten-year career, she had seen better and shorter sessions and wondered if her gruesome schedule was starting to affect her creativity. Her muse was not only silent it seemed, but sulking.
Soft backlighting welcomed her inside the lofty, plant-filled walls of her retreat, an eclectic mix of stained glass walls, Native American and contemporary furnishings. Kicking off her shoes, she greeted her two–month old kittens, Sour and Puss. After presenting them with milk and pouring herself a glass of wine, she escorted her family to the bay window seat in the living room to enjoy a cuddle. She sipped contentedly at the mellow Chardonnay as the calico kittens purred in resonant harmony. Beyond, the ocean vista merged into a dreamy, moonlit horizon dotted with glittering stars and the twinkling lights of ships. She leaned back against the cushions and listened to the tranquil splash of the atrium fountain.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed the flashing red light of the valet screen on the wall by the breakfast bar. Several days of unanswered mail no doubt awaited her upon login. Ruefully she thought of Janice, her personal assistant, and wondered how she was faring on her vacation to South America. Eschewing her lapcom, she had taken a trans-orbital to Buenos Aires where she planned to tour all the major cities by landbus with a fellow group of retro-travelers. Corinne shook her head. For the moment, it also meant that the laundry was piling up and the sub-zero fridge was no doubt empty.
She sighed and reluctantly rose to a chorus of feline protest. “Sorry, boys, but my finned friends need some dinner.”
Undeterred, the kittens followed her upstairs to the master bedroom, a sprawling, glass-roofed greenhouse opening to a wide balcony flanked with creeping orchid vines. Situated near the balcony’s reinforced glass barrier, a huge telescope pointed to the sky, attesting to her lifelong passion for stargazing. A transparent cover protected it from the elements. She stepped through the French doors and surveyed the breathtaking view. On impulse, she removed the cover and gazed through the lens. She panned the telescope across the horizon before leaving it pointed toward the pool. A balmy ocean breeze caressed her face.
Leaving the doors open, she went inside to feed her prize show bettas. The aggressive Siamese fighting fish flared at each other through the glass dividers of their customized tank. They darted excitedly at her approach. In the subdued tank light, the colorful, gracefully finned creatures resembled rainbow fragments. Corinne sparingly sprinkled a specially mixed food into each compartment and watched the bettas eagerly nip the tiny flakes.
Her head drooped as she watched their sinuous movements. Catching her reflection in the tank’s mirrored background, she frowned at the tired face greeting her. Hazel eyes that had seen too little sleep appeared shadowed and bloodshot, her creamy complexion dull and wan. Her shoulder length sweep of strawberry blonde hair sagged limply, the ends in need of a trim. Grimly, she realized that the face that helped launch a meteoric career would also prove her downfall if she didn’t allow herself some rest and rejuv.
She undressed and stretched out on the bed, the ocean breeze a feathery kiss on her body. The rose silk spread engulfed her with soothing coolness. Cradled in a
silence punctuated only by the distant bleat of a ship’s horn, she closed her eyes. She savored the ticklish assault of the kittens as they played and mock charged around her. Silken fur and tiny pads teased her bare skin, eliciting a pleasurable rush of gooseflesh. Her nipples hardened, stirring a warm sensation in her loins. She stretched languorously, the breeze a cool whisper between her legs, then a teasing touch.
Aware yet oblivious, she drifted on a spectral tide. The touch transformed into the gentle pulse of wing beats, the fluttering no louder than a heartbeat. A strong briny aroma engulfed her, supplanting the gentle citrus fragrance of the orchids. Her thighs spread to the gentle ministrations of the silken wings and admitted probing fingers. She gasped and arched, the penetration rippling across her body beyond her cunt, beyond her anus, beyond her mouth, but through every pore in her body until she merged into a dazzling core of light that spiraled into an infinite vortex. Within, a chorus of voices serenaded her in words she did she not recognize yet understood. Tenuous shapes pirouetted through and around her, her body transformed into a vessel of pure energy. Sensation had ceased to be, only an exquisite state of euphoria that left her giddy and breathless as she ascended toward a radiance that outshone the sun itself…