Beta Testing

(coming soon...)

There was no game playing allowed in Misty's bed. The Organizer's had many rules and they were strictly enforced. That was one of the first things Misty learned when she arrived at Grimsteel Hall, where the social networking experiment she was participating in was being held.

If she wanted to play the game--and she very much did--just like the nineteen other very beautiful young people in their separate rooms in the Hall--she had to play on the blue and white daybed bolted down in front of the huge computer screen and gaming console that stared down at her, consuming almost every bit of her time.

The daybed was comfortable, and arranged in such a way to make it more convenient for her to play on her stomach for the majority of the time. There was no rule against playing in another position. But she liked to be on all fours, with her little thong-covered ass in the air while she guided her Amazon Priestess through the many daunting levels of Zerius Blue, the new MMORPG game set to be released next year.

Misty had long dark hair, a petite body, and natural golden skin. An avowed exhibitionist she'd learned early on to flirt with the cameras at all times to earn credits. That was one reason she was in the top five currently, and closing. The losers waited until their credits were used up before consenting to more...Misty did her best to earn while she burned. Of course, there was no way to earn enough while playing non-stop to offset the lost credits.

Her Amazon Priestess had just dinged level 55, and earned a new quest when the green credit bar to the right of the screen flashed red. A blaring clanging sound reverberated inside her tiny room to make sure she didn't miss the important message:

"Credits dangerously low! Recharge now!"

She could keep playing, but if she ran her credits completely dry, she would have to go see the Organizer's in person on the fifth floor to earn more. They were never happy to see players on the fifth floor, no matter how willing or open they made themselves.

A green button with the Recharge! icon appeared onscreen. She knew from experience she had to do something and quickly. Frowning, she set the controller down, checked her watch and sat up, stretching her thin arms over her head as her dark hair cascaded down her back. Knowing she just needed enough time to make it to the nightly maintenance break when everyone's credits reset, she decided to push the thin pink nightie covering her breasts downward until her long nipples appeared.

Full of hope, Misty pressed Recharge.

Nothing happened.

Frowning, she pinched her nipples, with both thumb and forefinger, then picked her right breast up and seductively ran the tip of her little red tongue in ever tightening circles around her aching nipple, then nibbled on it.

Nothing.

Misty lifted the bottom of her gown and began playing with herself, toying with her smooth little clit, moaning in fake pleasure for the benefit of the Organizers who were always watching. She made sure she leaned back and spread her legs so the closest camera could get a good angle.

She was puzzled when she pressed Recharge again and nothing happened. They were being real shits today it seemed. Three hours remained before the maintenance break, three hours she couldn't afford to lose.

Sighing, she jumped off the day bed, skipped out of her nightie, and opening a very small door to one side of the room, she took a very quick shower while keeping her long hair dry, then dabbing some paste on her toothbrush, she returned to the bedroom. On the wall very near the door a very small, round mirror was placed. Misty had to bend over to look at her teeth as she brushed.

She'd talked to Dave and he had the very same mirror. His theory was the Organizers didn't want them to see their bodies. They wanted the players to identify more with their Avatars than themselves.

"They just want us to see the Game." Dave hated being here.

"But the Game is wonderful." Misty insisted. She loved it. Plus they were getting paid to play it. How great was that?

The first player to reach max level was guaranteed one hundred thousand dollars. And everyone got fifteen thousand just for showing up, and another ten thousand for competing to the end.

Misty wasn't just in it for the money, though. She loved MMORPG's, and almost from the moment she arrived fell in love with the new game. It was so exciting just to be allowed to play the Beta version, before anyone else besides the twenty lucky young souls gathered here.

Misty ran back to the very tiny bathroom, rinsed, gargled, brushed her hair a bit, then jumped back on the day bed once again. In desperate times, she always had one move the computer approved right away.

Like a cat, she stretched out on all fours, and pushed her great ass in the air seductively.

Press Recharge!

Nothing.

Higher.

Nothing.

Higher.

Nothing, again.

Finally, she pushed her ass so high in the air it was virtually above her head, and this time when she hit Recharge the computer chimed approvingly.

The Recharge icon went away.

Do you Consent? the sterile female voice on the computer wanted to know.

Biting her lip, Misty pressed the I Consent icon. The screen in front of her went dark, and a door opened. Misty turned her head to find a thin, tall man with a black cloth mask walking in, holding a black leather bag. He was completely concealed, as usual, not even his eyes were visible. Everything was black, except for his white gloves.

This was new, she thought looking at the bag, wondering what was inside. Some devilish toy, she presumed. She said nothing, because:

Nothing was said. Ever.

That was another, very strict rule.

There was no talking, no cajoling, or coercing, and certainly no laughing from the anonymous men who came to fuck her.

Conversely there was no begging or pleading for mercy from Misty. She was a sexually active young woman long before she signed up for this, and nothing the strange men or Organizer's came up with so far was out of the normal bounds of her sexual proclivities.

He silently set the bag down, very close to where the small mirror was attached to the wall, and reaching down, pulled out an eight inch floppy dildo with a suction cup underneath the shaft. Then he walked over crisply, wordlessly, and flipped the dildo over, presenting the round, convex suction cup close to her ruby red lips.

Misty smiled, liking this new game, licked it, keeping her ass high in the air, as she pooled her saliva on the tip of her tongue and rolled it around the edge of the cool plastic cup. She already had an idea of where this was going and wasn't too proud to admit there was a slutty, hungry side to her that enjoyed the games the Organizers played. She was getting horny. When the cup was well soaked, the dark man wordlessly walked back to the mirror, and carefully pressed the cup against the glass.

She could hear it grabbing hold. He gave it a tug with a white gloved hand, then when he was assured it was tight, he snapped his fingers and pointed at the fat tip which was now facing her, feet away.

Misty knew the rules, written and unwritten. The Organizers liked prompt, eager compliance. All she had to do was shake her head one time and look away and he would wordlessly depart. But that meant falling behind until the next maintenance break ended.

In a flash she was on her knees, the tip of the cold, meaty dildo in her mouth. In the mirror she could see her face, brown eyes wide, lips stretched, engorged on the fat fake penis. The dark man stepped behind her. She felt a fingertip touch the back of her head, pressing very, very lightly.

He wanted--the Organizers wanted--her to deep throat it.

She knew they were watching. As always.

Misty was a very petite young woman, with a nice ass and good breasts for her frame. But she had a tiny mouth and small throat, which always made it hard for her to deep throat her boyfriend's cocks. It was a struggle even with a small penis, although she'd spent a lot of time practicing. This dildo was twice as large as any real life ones she had experience with. She took a deep breath, and tried but failed, gagging on it halfway down.

Fortunately, he was patient this time. That wasn't always the case. The dark man allowed her to catch her breath and wipe her chin with the back of her wrist before continuing. On her knees she spent a moment spitting on the plastic dick, and lubricating it with her tongue, spreading her spit around the fat shaft with her small hands, until it glistened in the light. Then, she felt the tip of his finger pressing against the back of her head gently but insistently once more.

Misty often wondered if the men who came into her tiny room acted out their own, dark, twisted fantasies or were following some sort of detailed orders from above instead? Maybe they were players in their own game? In her six weeks at the Institute, she'd only balked twice. Once the very first time she realized the Organizers didn't just want a "floor show" in exchange for fresh credits. Every now and then--like this very moment--they wanted to see her get fucked. And then it was always, demeaning, rough, hole gaping sex.

The kind of sex her father used to watch on his ancient laptop at night when he thought she was sound asleep.

It was a struggle, but after a few minutes, she felt the cock sliding down her throat. In the tiny mirror her pink cheeks were puffed out like a blowfish, and the meaty tip was visible under the white skin of her throat now. A wave of pride swept through her when she realized she'd done it.

She had no idea if Mark was still waiting for her. Misty didn't have time to message, phone or text him. Or any of the rest of her family either for that matter.

But if were waiting, she couldn't wait to suck his cock all the way down. Misty could just imagine the shocked, stunned, totally aroused look on his face when she did.

A gloved white hand reached down then, grabbed her by the pussy.

Lifted her ass up, up, up. Gamely she kept her mouth glued to the dildo. She even clamped her teeth downward to help hold herself in place. There were unwritten rules here and she was a quick learner. The more of a slut and bimbo she appeared to be, the happier the Organizer's would be.

When it was a proper height, he spread her ass cheeks wide, worked some lotion into her small pink anus, and pulling out his cock, began fucking her in her ass.

Misty ignored the tears welling up in her smoldering brown eyes. There was no rule against it, so she slipped one free hand between her legs and massaged her clit. Pain and pleasure converged. Having no idea why she liked it, or why she liked being here, all she could do was go with it. She wanted to win.

The Game was everything to her.

Besides, she'd done so much already. Come so far. If she won, she would never have to work again.

Dark man continued to fuck her in a brisk, businesslike manner for several minutes. It stopped hurting after awhile. In the tiny room, the only sounds were his hips, cock and balls slapping into her welcoming ass cheeks, her muffled, humiliated moans of pleasure, and the dark man's heavy breathing. If he was enjoying it the only sign of it was the size of his cock in her ass, which seemed to grow and grow.

When he was finished, he shot his sticky load on her ass, had her turn around and clean his cock and balls with her tiny, nimble tongue, then picked up the black leather bag and left without a word.

"Credits recharged" the computer screen announced.

When he was gone, without bothering to clean herself up, she jumped back onto the daybed, and clicking play, guided her Amazon into the lush Argonna Wilds, where her new quest awaited:

"Goal: collect fifteen boar flanks." The maintenance break was just a bit over two hours away and she desperately needed to ding fifty six before then if possible.

There was no time to lose.