Discovering a New Reality

The pirate grinned at her. She heard his voice, literally heard it somehow, as he said, "Aye, you're a beautiful wench, and now you're mine." She looked down, and she was wearing a fanciful Victorian bodice, her cleavage bulging. The handsome pirate grinned, and grabbed it right at the breastbone, pulling forcefully. She felt the tug on her body as it ripped, and her breasts spilled out, and now there was an audience of pirates, sitting on the gunwales and the spars and standing on the deck, laughing and staring lustfully at the plight of their royal captive.

Another rip and she was naked. She tried to cover herself up, but an army of hands grabbed her wrists and pulled her over to a barrel. Inside the orb, she somehow knew that she was merely floating in space, but at the same time she also knew that rampaging pirates were carrying her by her arms and legs. She struggled against their grips, felt the pressure in her arched back and stretched muscles, heard her own cries amid their laughs. Just as she imagined, they were strong and she was going to serve their will.

She was tied face down over the barrel, staring into the fine wood grain of the deck. Her breasts dangled, bouncing slightly, her ribs and stomach compressed against the hard round wood. Her rump was her highest point, and suddenly she felt the force of someone's thighs behind her, forcing her own legs further apart.

And then ... ohhhhh. Hillary tried to moan. In the orb, she was silent and motionless, but in her brain her voice was pure and clear, her body bucking. A large penis slid into her, perfectly large and perfectly shaped to provide her maximum pleasure. Inside the orb, she cried out as the gel solidified into the perfect shape and followed its orders. It thrust in and out at the perfect speed, just as she willed it.

But it wasn't quite enough to please her. Suddenly a finger was on her clit. And not a man's finger, but a woman's. Women knew better how to do it, and they were sexy. Now she was face up, lying on a firm bed in a beautiful bedroom. Her arms and legs were tied spreadeagled, and two women were on the bed with her.

Hillary clicked through the scenarios. The first woman was Dr. Mullaney, wearing a black merry widow with thigh-high boots and a large strap-on dildo. She was ordering her little assistant, Lynette, to service Hillary. Lynette was wearing nothing but a red corset, exposing her pert brown breasts and a beautiful bare pussy, and she knelt between Hillary's legs.

Ohhhhhh.

Lynette was licking, and she had a fantastic technique. Within the orb, Hillary was motionless, floating while the gel swirled and gripped and flowed around her. Within her mind, Mullaney smiled cruelly and twisted Hillary's nipples while Lynette licked and finger-fucked her from below. Oh, and now a small finger was swirling around her anus, just like she always fantasized and had never asked. Hillary had never been with a woman, had never told anyone about it, and was frightened to even consider it in real life, but it was nonetheless a favorite fantasy. And now it was somehow reality - a safe and private reality. This machine was fantastic.

Hillary's body and mind merged back inside the orb, her hips moving and bucking at the attentions simultaneously real and imagined in her most sensitive places. She gasped and whimpered and then squealed with pleasure as Lynette - or something - brought her to orgasm. A real orgasm, silent and strong as she floated within the world of the swirling gel.

And now Lynette was rising, smiling with glistening lips as Mullaney moved down. Her strap-on was large, perfectly sized and shaped for Hillary's pleasure, and she felt the warmth and softness of the professor's body as they merged into a missionary position. Hillary struggled against her bonds, but they held fast, just as she wished. Mullaney kissed her throat, her cheeks, her ear, and she heard the older woman's whisper. "I'm going to make you beg."

She felt the first push of Mullaney inside her, and it was exquisite.

A chime sounded, and Mullaney and Lynette froze. A pleasant female voice abruptly interrupted the scene, and she recognized it as Lynette's voice. "Your experimental time has now expired. You will feel a pressure from below as you are pushed upwards out of the gel. We hope you enjoyed the experience!"

Suddenly there was no more large penis pushing inside her, no more dominatrix pinning her to the bed. Hillary felt a vague vibration all around her, and then a pressure on the soles of her feet. Her real feet, not imagined ones. She felt a coolness on her head, rivulets running down her neck, and finally a return of her body weight. As she rose, the warmth of a robe was placed upon her shoulders. Then some tugging, and suddenly the helmet was off.

It felt very strange to be back in the real world. She was pulled onto the platform by Lynette and James, and the curtain opened to reveal the conference attendees. Dr. Mullaney stepped back onto the stage amidst polite applause. She was wearing a business suit, not dominatrix gear.

"Okay, our volunteer has finished her ten minutes inside the orb. Let's talk to her for a moment, and then we'll do the data display."

Lynette was rubbing Hillary's hair down with a towel, and for the first time Hillary was able to see inside the orb. The gel was a highly viscous liquid, reddish-gold in color and almost iridescent. It balled up and fell off of her easily. She was slightly disoriented, and felt as if her mind and her body were not quite snapped back together yet.

"Did you enjoy the experience?" Dr. Mullaney asked, handing up a microphone.

Hillary took a moment to speak. "That was ... unbelievable."

"Tell us about your experience. What did you do? Where did you go?"

Her eyes unfocused, Hillary stepped back mentally through the progression of events. From fantasies backward to imagination, and from imagination backward to memories. And somewhere in there, reality was woven. She was still somewhat addled about the intersections, but the progression made sense.

So she talked about memories, and about her mother holding her and her boyfriend and the smell of lavender at the wedding. About holding hands and a giant flamingo.

And then she lied her ass off.

She walked through a county fair. She flew over New York City. As she regathered her wits, she was able to maintain the mental progression from memory to imagination, but she left out the fantasy part. Science didn't need to know that, and a conference full of her peers definitely didn't. She had self-awareness and knew that she liked sex and fantasies, but the speed at which she had gone there was staggering and somewhat embarrassing. She would have to think about this some more once she got home.

"Thank you for doing this," Dr. Mullaney wrapped up. "And now let's go to the overhead monitor and we'll look at the data display."

A screen flicked on, a large 15-foot screen that was easily visible to everyone in the conference center. The image was Hillary's mother, in their living room in Michigan.

"Now, as I told you, the gel reads her thinking and transfers it to the computer. The computer converts it to images, and then feeds those images back to the gel and the virtual reality. So we can actually see what she's thinking. So Hillary, this is your mother?"

Hillary stared upward at the screen, her mouth agape. Her mother was beautiful, and there was the unusual gypsy design on the table lamps.

"Hillary, is this your mother?"

"Um ... yes."

Just like a video, her mother leaned forward into a hug. Dr. Mullaney explained how the gel could recreate the feel of the mother's dress, her hug, her perfume, based on how Hillary imagined it.

The scene morphed into the wedding scene, and it played out just like a movie scene.

Oh, god.

Oh god oh god oh god. The video continued, an exact playback of Hillary's mind.

Eight minutes later, a conference room of 500 people was dead silent.

Twenty minutes later, Hillary was sitting in the dressing area, head in her hands, rocking silently back and forth. She still wore only the bathrobe. Getting dressed meant going back out into public, and going out into public meant...

Oh, god.

There was a light knock on the door, then another. When she didn't respond, it opened and two sets of female feet walked in. She knew who they were without looking up, and she didn't want to look up anyway.

"Well," Dr. Mullaney said, "this is somewhat awkward."

Hillary couldn't speak.

"I talked to Lynette and to James, and it appears that we had a mixup. A terrible mixup. When the lower orbital froze up, they miscommunicated, and neither of them told you how the data display worked. If you had known that, then perhaps you wouldn't have let your mind wander quite so freely."

"I can never go out there again." Hillary stared at their feet. "I'm a laughingstock. My career is over."

"Not necessarily," Dr. Mullaney said. "As disappointed as I am with my team, I recognize great potential in you." Her feet approached and circled behind Hillary, and she felt a supportive hand on her shoulder. "I've fired James for his role in this error, so I now have a spot open on my team and I'd like to offer it to you. I never liked James much anyway. Not my type. And you're a great fit for all sorts of reasons. You've very quickly discovered what will be our largest market for this device, and you will be useful in its further testing."

A second hand touched Hillary's other shoulder and began a soft shoulder massage, pulling Hillary upright in her seat. "I've also decided that Lynette needs to be punished for her role in this. That will happen tonight at my home, and I would like to invite you to participate. Because you see, you're very perceptive of my relationship with Lynette, and I think you'll enjoy how she looks when she's tied to my bed."

Dr. Mullaney's hands slid lower, down inside the robe. She caressed the fullness of Hillary's breasts, and then began to gently tweak her nipples. Hillary's nostrils flared.

"Lynette, do your duty to our new research assistant. She has a lot of work ahead of her."

Dr. Mullaney's loyal assistant knelt at Hillary's feet and gently forced her knees apart. She untied the sash on the robe, laid it open, and leaned in. Hillary felt a warm, soft tongue make contact with her clit.

Mullaney's breath was warm in Hillary's ear as she bit down softly. "We're going to make you beg," she whispered.

And this time it was real.