Ellora's Cavemen: Tales from the Temple I
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ELLORA’S CAVEMEN: TALES FROM THE TEMPLE I
An Ellora’s Cave Publication, March 2004
Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.
PO Box 787
Hudson, OH 44236-0787
ISBN # 1-84360-813-8
ISBN MS Reader (LIT) ISBN # 1-84360-812-X
Other available formats (no ISBNs are assigned): Adobe (PDF), Rocketbook (RB), Mobipocket (PRC) & HTML
JOSHUA 4.0 © 2004 SAHARA KELLY
BARBARIAN © 2004 KATE DOUGLAS
MANIMAL © 2004 LANI AAMES
A.D. 2203: ADAM & EVE © 2004 RAVYN WILDE
AT HIS MERCY © 2004 DOREEN DESALVO
TIME-SHARE: AMELIA’S JOURNEY © 2004 LORA LEIGH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
ELLORA’S CAVEMEN: TALES FROM THE TEMPLE I edited by Jaid Black.
Cover design by Darrell King. Photography by Dennis Roliff.
ELLORA’S CAVEMEN:
TALES FROM THE TEMPLE I
Joshua 4.0
By Sahara Kelly
Barbarian
By Kate Douglas
Manimal
By Lani Aames
A.D. 2003: Adam & Eve
By Ravyn Wilde
At His Mercy
By Doreen DeSalvo
Time-share: Amelia’s Journey
By Lora Leigh
JOSHUA 4.0
Sahara Kelly
For my Partner…
Sahara Kelly
Chapter 1
There he was.
Joshua 4.0.
Naked, arms outstretched, bald as a coot, and staring at her, eyes blank, waiting for her. For her. Andrea Jane Thompson, graphic artist extraordinaire. Waiting for her to turn him into Mr. Terrific, Mr. Make-Her-Mouth-Water, Mr. Yes-She’ll-Cream-Her-Panties.
Andy grinned. Oh yeah, baby. We’re gonna have fun with this one.
She was sitting in front of her monitor, hands encased in sensor mitts, a small headband resting around her ears, and wires linking her umbilically to her desktop. It was the culmination of several years of hard work, three rejected grant applications, and a final whimpering and begging letter to one of the largest Virtual Reality Graphic corporations in the country.
She’d finally been approved as a client to receive the beta version of the “Model Man” softwarethe 101X unitfor home testing. And now she’d gotten her very own Joshua 4.0.
She hadn’t mentioned on the application that Joshua had haunted her dreams, of course. That was far too esoteric for the techno-geeks who’d be giving their approval.
She’d merely cited her qualifications. Hot dreams about one’s creations wasn’t covered by the questionnaire. Thank God.
And that had been the standard 4.0 version.
But this one was different. This Joshua wasn’t a render that required hours of morphs, textures and poses. This Joshua was hers to command.
Experimentally, she moved a finger. Joshua’s arm responded.
Shit. The frickin’ thing worked.
Once more she moved, a finger on the other hand this time, and selected some hair for him with her cursor. Bald men hadn’t ever really done much for her, Captain Picard notwithstanding. And, of course, Vin Diesel wasn’t bad. But Joshua…well, Joshua was going to get hair, whether he liked it or not.
A full head of long dark curls materialized, resting in a gleaming tumble on his shoulders.
Oooh boy. There’s something about a guy with long hair.
She pulled a strand of hair over one of his shoulders and noticed the small bar at the top of the screen. It was flickering green, indicating that her usage of the 101X was being monitored and recorded by the servers in the home office of VRG Concepts, Inc.
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Joshua 4.0
That was fine by her. As a condition of her receiving this system, she’d agreed to allow her level of activity to be monitored. They’d find a hell of a lot of hours logged from her IP address, no doubt about it.
She was to report bugs, work the damn thing to death if she could, and put it through its paces. Not a hardship for someone whose life revolved around graphic arts.
Her online artwork and freelance graphics now decorated some of the top websites, and she’d just put together a streaming video and a couple of Flash presentations for a very wealthy client.
It had given her the chance to take some time off for herself and when the approval for the 101X had come through…well, hell. All the ducks were lined up and quacking themselves sick.
She clicked her way through the texture selections, accepting and discarding, until her very own vision of paradise was looking back at her from rich teal blue eyes.
Funny, she’d never been much on blue-eyed guys, but there was something about the way these particular eyes glowed back at her that just grabbed her by the crotch and said “C’mon honey, let’s play.”
Mmm. Now that’s something I’d like to find under my Christmas tree. Just like that. Naked.
She’d pegged the height dials to six foot three, and the shoulders and torso had expanded proportionately. So had everything else.
Fuck, this guy was built.
Andy selected her favorite texture…Joshua-Beach Male. His skin flickered and then turned a nice light tan, and hairs appeared. All over. Whorls decorated his chest in a very pleasing pattern, and…and… oh yeah. There it was. That super-fabulous moment when a girl could watch a guy’s genitals come to life, without having to sit through dinner and a movie first. He’d gone from a flesh-toned wiener to a beautiful Louisville slugger in less than 2.3 seconds of render time.
There was some unique built-in specification with this particular texture. Some little peculiarity that turned Joshua’s cock into a work of art. It grew, lengthening and thickening a little, and his balls filled out against the background of the dark pubic hair.
Andy licked her lips.
His thighs were firm, his abs the perfect six-pack, although she could always change them later if she felt like it, and even his damn toes were ideal.
Shit. She was getting wet just looking at him. The thought of what she was going to do to him and with him made her sweat.
The program flickered and slowed down, and Andy rushed to hit the “save as”
button.
Note to self. Don’t sweat around the fucking cables.
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Sahara Kelly
* * * * *
Three miles away as the crow flew, or about fourteen miles away as the direct T1
cable traveled, Josh Miles sat in front of his flat panel monitor and stared at the numbers flickering across the indicator charts.
He had four 101X units out for beta testing, and his ass was on the line along with all of them. They were his baby, his idea, and had sprung fully-formed from his brain like some mythological creature.
He’d laughed when the art department had pinned up a photo of him from the last beach party and used it as a model for the original “Joshua”. He’d chuckled when he’d tried the first interactive VR component that R&D had added. He’d grinned like a schmuck when he’d gotten approval for the board to begin testing.
Now… now he was simply nervous.
The concept of a fully interactive graphics system was so simple, he wondered why no one had thought of it before.
Of course, a concept is one thing. Anyone can have a concept. You don’t need an education, an advanced degree in micr
o-processing and engineering, a multi-million dollar research company, or even a dog to have a concept. You could have one sitting on the toilet, doing the crossword puzzle in the back of the TV Guide.
In fact, Josh had. Mr. Whipple would have been flushed with pride.
Some clue, some inane six letter word, had triggered a series of cascading thoughts that had led to Josh’s breakthrough. It ended with two simple words. “Why not?” And from that moment on, he’d been obsessed with the notion that interactivity via Virtual Reality would revolutionize the graphics scene.
In a few weeks, he’d know for sure if it had. But for right now, he had to sit and watch the usage bars log his four clients as they worked the 101X into a frenzy.
One dial flickered. Josh checked his records, pulling up the file that corresponded to unit three.
One Andrea Jane Thompson. Age 28. Graphic artist, experienced with…hmm. She was qualified. He leaned forward and clicked onto a couple of diagnostic programs and ran a remote systems check.
His robot pinged him back with the information that Ms. Thompson’s level of resistance had dropped slightly, making her contact sensors fluctuate.
Josh frowned. What would cause that to happen?
He visualized her, sitting in front of her monitorwired in to the system, and ran through the possibilities in his mind. Lowered skin resistance.
God damn! Water. Moisture on the skin.
Ms Andrea Jane Thompson was sweating. In March.
He wondered why.
8
Joshua 4.0
Chapter 2
Andy shifted the small portable fan next to her desk and relaxed as the cool air blew over her. She’d shrugged out of her shirt, and now sat in her bra and shorts in front of the keyboard.
Not that she needed the keyboard, of course.
Uh-uh. One twitch and Joshua came to life. No clicking necessary, no mouse-overs, no nothing. Damn, this unit was superb. She could almost think him into doing what she wanted.
She blinked back a vision of Mr. Oh-So-Damned-Goodlooking’s head nestled between her thighs.
Shit. She had to watch out for moisture. And that thought had certainly caused some. The time would come when Joshua got to play, but not quite yet.
She’d posed him casually, and he was now leaning up against an imaginary wall, arms folded, one leg slightly bent, and grinning at her with a real panty-warming smile.
She loved that smile.
That smile had figured in a few of her more erotic fantasies lately. The ones that included a session with her “Super Sized Big Boy” toy. The pink one.
Well, hell. So she was horny. Most of the time that’s what made her artwork so damned impressive. She transferred her unfulfilled lusts and desires into her images.
She caught that yearning, that do-it-to-me-before-I-die-here feeling, and reflected it onto her figures.
Several clients had come up to her, cleared their throats and politely thanked her, blushing as they explained how their wives had really liked her work. She’d grinned and accepted their thanks. At least someone in this town was getting laid. She sure as hell wasn’t.
Andy could, and probably should, have dated more. But she was tired of the bar scene, where she only drank beer since wine gave her a headache and mixed drinks gave her zits the next day. Beers were good, provided your date didn’t mind you hitting the ladies’ room every twenty minutes or so.
But the faces never changed, the jokes were old, and she’d quickly tired of the few guys who’d shown an interest. She’d brought one home as an experiment. The sex, to put it bluntly, had sucked. And he hadn’t.
Yep. That was one relationship that had promptly developed a 404 Error. File not found.
It seemed guys could use their mouths for talking and drinking, and kissing too, but when it came right down to it, she’d picked the ones that lacked directions for 9
Sahara Kelly
anything below her navel. Sure, it was okay for her to use her tongue, her hands, ice cream, and whatever else was available. She just never got the favor returned.
She’d given up. Her “Super Sized” buddy did a better job, didn’t mess with the sheets or leave the toilet seat up, and she could roll over and go to sleep secure in the knowledge that she wouldn’t get the brush-off from it the next day.
Joshua was always there for her, however. His smile brightened her life, made her breasts ache, and so what if he wasn’t real? He was her creation, and she could endow him with whatever virtues she wanted. And this one, this 4.0 version, was the best yet.
Time to really put this puppy through its paces.
Andy opened the file marked “AJ” and created…herself.
* * * * *
What the fuck was she doing?
Josh’s curiosity was now thoroughly aroused. Unit 3 was functioning perfectly, but it sure was soaking up a huge amount of memory. It couldn’t be all the 101X. He double-checked.
Aha. She was importing something from an older version.
Josh rolled up his sleeves and pulled his chair up to the keyboard. With a few quick commands he activated the ‘view screen’ function. As an integral part of the beta testing process, all beta units were equipped with this remote access feature. That way, his techs could figure out what the client was doing when something went wrong. If something went wrong.
It wasn’t really an invasion of privacy, since the clients had signed on to the entire testing package. The fact that mention of this particular portion had been relegated to Paragraph 27, Subsection 3, (reduced-size font), was no fault of his. They were supposed to have read the whole damn thing…it was a case of caveat emptor, as far as he was concerned.
Without a qualm he pulled up Ms Andrea Jane Thompson’s monitor screen.
And his eyes bugged out of his head.
There was Joshua… himself…looking pretty damn buff, even if he did say so. But he wasn’t alone.
A woman stood next to him, wearing nothing at all. Nothing but her hair. Long, reddish-blonde hair. It fell down for miles and curled around a very lush pair of breasts.
Her waist curved in, her hips curved back out, and Josh got dizzy as his eyes traveled the long road down her legs, and back upto where a naked pussy was blatantly displayed.
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Joshua 4.0
He pulled his chin up off his desk, wiped a spot of drool from the return key and frowned. He knew just about every single model on the market for this particular application. She wasn’t any of them.
His fingers flew over the keys as he requested information about “Figure 2”.
Female. Duh. Frickin’ computers were so damn logical at times.
Morph imports. Well, well, well. Wasn’t that interesting? He typed on. File ID…”AJ”.
AJ. Andrea Jane. She’d imported an image of herself.
Holy shit. She looked like that?
A man with a mission, Josh shamelessly rifled through the photo files on “AJ”‘s hard drive. He was beginning to experience something of a hard drive himself. Ah.
There. He’d found them. Three photos, full face, side face and full body. The body one was nude.
He swallowed. It looked like she’d taken it herself through her digital camera, since the original was lopsided and she had a remote mouse in her hand. But fuckin’ A! It was her all right, down to the naked pussy. And she was one gorgeous chunk of pixels.
Josh’s mouth began to water again.
The figures in the “Model Man” desktop began to move. First AJ assumed the classic standing pose, one leg slightly bent, knee pointing out. Her arms went up behind her hair. It was wanton, it was sexy, and Josh was getting stiffer by the second.
Then Joshua moved.
He fell to his knees in front of her and with a slight adjustment of his spine, his face disappeared into AJ’s pussy.
Holy mother…board.
Josh watched, stunned, at the incredible job he was doing. Well, not him, his other him. Fuck. He w
ished it was him. The real him.
To his amazement, AJ’s nipples were hardening. Andrea Jane had done an amazing job on this animation. He blinked for a moment and ignored his cock, which was now up to full speed and ready to party. Down boy. It’s all virtual. Shit.
Josh’s brain whirred while his cock ached. He double-checked the parameters Andrea Jane had entered for AJ. God-double-damn. She was good. They were as close as could be to the ones VRG had programmed into Joshua.
A very wicked idea crept lightly into Josh’s mind and whacked him up beside the cerebral cortex.
So Ms. Andrea Jane liked to play sex games with her images, did she?
He reached for his virtual reality equipment.
Perhaps it was time to level the playing field and let the opposing team into the game.
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Sahara Kelly
Chapter 3
Andy squirmed a little on her chair as she manipulated the figures on her screen.
She was looking for that one perfect moment, that image that would capture the essence of man giving oral sex to woman.
She’d run through this procedure before, getting aroused by what she was creating, and loving the experience. It was voyeuristic in a way, but she bypassed any guilt, since she knew she was in control.
These weren’t real people, after all.
But with this new setup, her level of involvement had increased and now there was much less separation between her and the couple on the screen.
AJ’s head fell backwards and her hands moved down to Joshua’s head. Just as Andy had animated them.
Joshua’s head moved rhythmically, in the pattern she’d established with the old Joshua’s figure. But this one had muscles across his shoulders that flexed as he moved, and Andy couldn’t stop the flood of moisture from soaking her panties as she watched how realistically he was working AJ’s pussy.
She shifted position to try and unstick her underwear from various personal places.
Her knee caught her can of diet soda, and she quickly struggled to stop it from slopping all over her connections.
Fuck.
A small puddle doused some of the wiring and there was a little fizzle and a pop and a mild tingle ran over her body. She ripped one glove off and mopped up the spill, cursing in an assortment of languages. Some of which she actually understood.