A Sick World

Megabyte Bar was a dingy place in the basement of a rundown storefront in a rundown section of Neo Baltimore, far away from the gleaming spires of the megacorps towers near the Inner Harbor. Megabyte was where hackers, if they ventured out of their apartment and off the net, would gather to discuss their plans to bring down the megacorp servers while nursing watered down beer that tasted like piss, while decade-old electronica pumped out of speakers that barely worked and dusty LCD screens that nobody watched showed random crap that megacorp-owned stations pumped out.

But when Donovan Ackerman walked in on a rainy Friday night, he found the bar empty except for the bartender named Nelson, a man who looked as frayed and ragged as much of the décor. Donovan took off his dripping trench coat and hung it on the bent metal coat rack near the door. He pulled out his automatic pistol form his coat pocket and checked it, still functional. His clothes were as equally soaked as coat; his jeans felt 10 pounds heavier, his shoes squeaked with every step, and his black shirt stuck to his body, outlining his chest and abs, well developed for a man well on the other side of forty.

Donovan left a trail of water across the floor as he walked to a barstool and sat down.

"So I've finally scared your customers off?" Donovan asked in his deep, gravely tone.

Nelson laughed. "They've known you're a detective for Cynera Systems for weeks. The crowd just doesn't like venturing out in the heavy rain."

Donovan cracked a faint smile. "I was kidding." He had stopped overhearing good intel a while before, but kept coming back because the bar wasn't anywhere near Cynera Tower.

"Could have fooled me. What'll you have?"

"The usual."

Nelson poured him a mug of watered down beer that tasted like piss and gave it to him.

As Donovan nursed it, he mulled over why exactly he was coming back to Megabyte, even though he was assigned to other things. Maybe it was because he didn't fit in with the well-kempt fake façade of Cynera, the employees in pressed suits and the shiny hallways were designed to divert attention away from the fact megacorps were as rotten on the inside as the rest of the world was on the outside. Cynera only kept him around because he could fit in at a place like Megabyte, otherwise they would've kicked him to the slums years before.

The door opened and highly attractive brunette walked into the bar in high heels and a revealing leather halter dress. She shook her umbrella, left it by the door and sat down two seats away. After ordering a martini, she pulled a mirror out of her purse and checked her makeup. Her net-access implant poked out from her wet wavy hair as it parted around the bump on the back of her neck. Donovan's own began to throb.

There was only one reason a woman like her was doing in a place like that, she was a high class prostitute, not one of the ubiquitous data addicted whores who'd suck random cocks in alleys for money to buy a several megabytes of worth of data, which would generally be spent on games or erotica which only provided fleeting highs. Anyone who didn't want to become a pathetic addict knew to spend their data allotments on important stuff and get their kicks outside of their heads. Donovan only accessed the net from his head for work. As soon as he was off the clock, he used a tablet if he needed to go online.

The woman had the tale-tell blank stare, which meant she was accessing something that taking her full attention. She blinked, meaning she was no longer accessing, and sighed. Nelson delivered her martini and she downed it in one gulp.

Nelson walked into his backroom, leaving them alone.

"Client not coming?" Donovan said.

The woman casually looked at him. "I'm Felicia; want to take his place?" Soliciting for prostitution was illegal, but with the amount of illegal activity that went on in Megabyte, Nelson wouldn't care.

Donovan looked away. "I'm Donovan, and not interested."

Felicia moved her stuff down one seat. She leaned forward in order to stare into his eyes. "Are you sure? You're sitting by yourself in an empty bar on a Friday night. If there's anyone who could use some company," she put her hand on his shoulder, "it's you."

He shrugged her off and growled, "Go away."

It wasn't that Felicia wasn't drop dead gorgeous with a soft, curvaceous body that would make most men drool. On any other night, he'd love to suck on her perk tits, ram his cock deep into her into tight pussy and feel ten years younger. But it was a rainy Friday night after a hard week, he wanted to drink his beer and go home.

Felicia put some cash on the bar. "So you're one of those types. I'm sure the local whores are more your style and price range anyway." She gathered her things and stood up. As she passed him, Donovan grabbed her arm.

He held her in place and spun around to glare at her. "How much?" He knew what kind of type she thought he was and she wasn't entirely wrong in her assessment. Still, he was curious of just how much she cost.

"I charge a thousand dollars an hour minimum just for sex. If guys want cuddling and all that, it's closer to two thousand."

Donovan smirked and spun around. "So why you did you solicit me if you knew I wasn't going to pay?

Felicia stood there for a moment and then said, "Guess I didn't want to come all the way down here for nothing." She blanked out for a moment and then picked up her umbrella and walked out the door.

Donovan decided it was time to go himself. He took some cash and stuck on it the bar.

Nelson came in from the back with some bottles of booze. "Have a good one," He said.

"Alright." Donovan slipped his trench coat on and stepped out the door into the pouring rain.

The street was lit up with gaudy flickering neon lights advertising bars and strip clubs, half of them not even in business, extending as far as the eye could see in either direction. The sidewalk was a sticky mat of trash and grime. Nobody was around and no car drove by.

A high pitched scream came from the adjacent alleyway between the bar and an abandoned building next door. Felicia's pocket book and umbrella were flung on the ground by the door.

Donovan pulled his gun and ran into the alley, passing by her shoes.

Two punks covered in tattoos and badly done cybernetic implants had pulled Felicia down the alleyway to a trash pile illuminated by an overhead light. One held her down while the other pulled his enhanced metallic cock out of his pants. She thrashed and kicked but was no match for the men.

"Cry and scream and all you want," the one holding her down said, "Nobody in this part of town cares!"

"I've always wanted to try a high class whore like you but could never afford it." The one with his dick out forced her legs apart and ripped her panties completely off and tossed them away. A bullet narrowly missed his head.

The punks let go and beat a hasty retreat down the alleyway and out the other side.

Donovan stepped into the light and put his pistol away. Felicia was now drenched and shivering, her face pale and streaked with makeup.

Without saying a word, Donovan bent down and felt the back of her neck. All net implants had a small switch to turn it on and off that could only be detected by touch, as it was flush with the implant underneath the skin.

It was off. All rapists knew to flip it off immediately so their victim wouldn't contact the police via the net. Not that the police would ever come in time, or at all if contacted, but it was always a precaution rapists took anyway.

Donovan scooped Felicia up without turning the implant on. The last thing she needed to do was drown her sorrows with data.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome."

Nelson was outside collecting her stuff. "Is she alright? I heard the gun shot."

"She just needs to go home," Donovan replied as a sleek yellow cab pulled up. Felicia must have called it on her way out the door.

Donovan opened the door and slipped her into the backseat, and then Nelson deposited her stuff into the cab and ran back into his bar.

Donovan was about to shut the door when his eyes locked with Felicia's. They were sad, lonely eyes. Most sad sacks had such eyes, but he has just saved her from certain death, sending on her way would be cruel. He wasn't expecting anything now, but at least seeing her home safe was the right thing to do.

"Hold on." Donovan shut the door and walked around to the other side and got in next to her.

"Where to?" The cabdriver asked.

Felicia gave him her address.

They sat quietly in the back and then Donovan felt a hand on his crotch, massaging his member as an opaque screen went up between the front and the back. She was staring at him with the upmost lust burning in her eyes. He grabbed her hand. "It's wrong. You were just about to be raped. You're not thinking straight."

"You don't know what I'm thinking," she growled as she stared out at the pouring rain.

He sighed. "Look, it's just that—"

"I know it's wrong, but I don't care," she said. "You have no idea what it's like to be me. I fuck every night for money, but it isn't real. It's as fake as the erotica streamed into to your head. I satisfy my clients, but never myself. But when you saved me in the alleyway," She stared back at him with tear stained eyes, "it was real. You didn't have to, but you did anyway."

"It was, but—"

"But what? I know your type. So hardened and emotionally dead inside you can't let anyone in, even if for just a second, because you're afraid you'll let your vulnerabilities show."

"So, I am what I am and don't hide it. You, you're damaged goods, I don't know where you've been or what you've done, but expecting to be healed by having sex with me is lunacy. Like I said you're not thinking straight. Why shouldn't I stop this cab and get out right now?"

Felicia started sobbing right in the cab, tears running her already soaked dress.

Then cab slowed down and stopped in front of a glistening residence tower lit up in the night sky.

Felicia grabbed her stuff and got out without saying a word. The partition slipped down and the driver asked, "So where do you want to go?"

He looked out the window to see Felicia standing under the awning, wiping her tears and makeup while staring at the cab, still expecting him to come. He could have told the cab driver to drive him to his hole-in-the-wall where he slept and kept his clothes, and hopefully never see her again. But this was a sick world. Felicia wasn't looking to be healed. She was just looking for one night in the darkness with probably the only person who gave a shit about her. In retrospect, he didn't feel like spending the night alone either.

Donovan pulled out some cash and gave it to the cab driver. "Keep the change."

He exited the cab and walked up to her. "I'm sorry." He didn't have to tell her why he had come, she knew why.

She put out her hand and he took it and they walked into her apartment to the lift up to her apartment. Once inside, he noticed it was smaller and emptier than he expected. The living area had a single table and dining-room chair, and a plush loveseat in front of a large TV. It was otherwise Spartan and spotless, the exact opposite of the places he frequented.

"I'm not here that often as I never bring clients back here ever. Can I take your coat?"

Donovan took it off and handed it to her. She dropped it on the floor as they violent kissed and groped each other as she led him to the loveseat and sat him down.

She stood in front of him and dropped her dress revealing her awe-inspiring naked body. It was obvious why a night with her was worth so much. Such a creature shouldn't have been defiled and he kicked himself for purposely missing. Nobody would have cared about dead street punks.

Felicia seductively bent down and got on her knees between his legs. She unbuckled his jeans and reached in his boxers and pulled out his fine dick. She took it all in her mouth. Donovan groaned as sweat appeared against his forehead as she bobbed up and down, lavishing his dick with her tongue, getting it nice and hard. He got so hot he pulled off his shirt. She released him with an audible pop and then stood up.

Felicia pushed Donovan back against the seat as she straddled him. She gripped his wet cock and then directed his cock towards her equally wet pussy and easily slipped it in. Then she furiously bounced up and down. Donovan grabbed her hips and began to guide her in a sensuous rhythm. They panted as sweat dripped down their bodies as they fucked. Felicia threw her head back and screamed as she came, her cunt gripping his dick so tight he had to fight to keep himself from coming. This wasn't just any ordinary fuck. She wasn't fucking just for money. She wanted this. She was fucking for herself.

He picked her up and slammed her face first on the seat. He kicked the rest of his clothes off, and then began pumping her from behind so hard his balls slapped against her.

Her grabbed her hair and tugged. She let out a pleasured gasp.

"You like that, you sick whore?!"

"Yes! I love it!" She roared. She tensed up as another orgasm ripped through her. It was too much for Donovan and he came hard, squirting cum deep inside her. They collapsed onto the chair and then slipped onto the cold floor next to each other.

Donovan said as he cuddled with Felicia, "That was..."

"Shh!" She kissed him on the cheek. "Don't speak. Just be with me." Then she led him to her bedroom, where the action would eventually continue, all night long.

The next morning as Donovan stepped out into sunlight, the day seemed brighter, and Neo Baltimore less crummy. There would be no long term relationship with Felicia, no ring on her finger, no baby in nine months, just an invitation to come back and do it all over again free of charge. The world might have been messed up, but he didn't have to spend his time wallowing in it.