Lottery Dreams Ch. 01

John plugged himself into the computer game and hoped he would have more luck with the women in here than he did in real life.

At least in here, he stood a chance of meeting the right girl, even if it meant programming the software to do the hard work for him.

Everything went black, then faded into a pink mist. Slowly through the mist, John saw the world coming towards him. He was trembling with excitement as he awaited the appearance of the first girl in the game. But instead, he was met with the sight of a small, grubby bedroom. Clothes lay strewn around, mixed with books, magazines and old record covers. Where was he? Back in the dark ages? Who had records today? For that matter who had books and magazines? Not him.

As he stood there looking at all this mess, John wondered what sort of rubbish computer game this was? He heard a noise at the door and wondered if the dream girl was about to walk in?

The door opened for his mother to come walking in.

"I told you to tidy this mess up John! You are not a kid anymore, just look at it! I want it cleaned at once otherwise you'll be cooking your own tea!"

His mother was adamant the job had to be done.

John would have done it too when he realized he had not lived at home for years. He was a grown man now, so what was going on?

Maybe he had not programmed the game incorrectly? Maybe he should go back and take more care of the details?

He was just about to end the game when panic struck him. John could not stop the game.

He was an old enough hand not to panic when a computer game goes wrong, but this was really getting to him now. None of the controls would respond and no matter how he tried to wriggle out of it, John could not stop the game.

He settled down and tried to think things out. What was he doing wrong?

He must have been on an hour before the depression started to kick in. Maybe he was stuck here until the thing crashed? He had to admit that the simulation was frighteningly real. Everything he touched felt real, Even the smell of the old clothes seemed all too real. And his body too seemed very real, as he could even feel his cock in his hand.

It was this act that almost caught him out as he heard the door open behind him and his mother threw a pile of fresh clothes on his bed.

"You can stop that and get ready for work. They will sack you if you are late again." His mother just walked out.

By now John realized not only could he not take off the headset, but he could not even take the hand-controlled gloves off. Putting panic to the back of his mind he decided to find out what the game had in store for him.

There were scanners to input memories right into his head to save programming, and this worked well, as John now remembered he worked at a factory in the local town.

So he walked to the factory gates and clocked in.

How did he know this stuff all so well? It seemed more than just programming to him. He knew in exact detail what he was to do, and more depressingly, remembered the living hell he now found himself in. Welcome to factory life.

John walked onto the shop floor and wondered just how realistic this could get? It was supposed to be a sex simulation, and the sales pitch said nothing about having to take a dead-end job to make it even more realistic. And realistic it got too, as he had to endure days of mind-numbingly boring work, heaving sheets of steel into machines, for the deafening sound of a giant blade to cut them in half.

The funny thing was, everyone knew him. He even had a few friends in the workforce, but they all had an enemy in the form of the management. There were threats of redundancies and even sackings for those who would not jump to their tune. John wondered what was the point of a computer simulation that just spread so much misery?

As a side note, all the men were really interested in was the lottery.

"Have you any idea what the odds are of winning it?" John had to laugh at the men working on the production line with him, as they fed the steel into the machine. "It's somewhere near thirteen million to one."

"But we have to try," replied his friend Dave. "Otherwise we will be stuck here for years. That's if it lasts that long? What will we do then?"

"I have to admit you are right there," replied John. "What else can we do?"

That was the truth of it. What else could they do? The men were trapped here and taking a risk on something as stupid as the lottery was the only choice.

John knew that it was like going to a beach and picking the right grain of sand, so fantastic were the odds. So he knew he had to find a way around it, or he would be stuck in the horrible game forever.

Back in the real world, he lived alone and had taken the week off to play this game. Although a second in the real world was like a day in here and he knew he would be here some time.

What if something went wrong?

Clearly, there was a fault with the software, otherwise, why was he stuck in a dead-end job with no sex and no women? Was he here until he died?

Time had a strange way of righting itself and John looked forward to a Saturday night in the local pub. Everyone knew him and he knew everyone else. Almost everyone.

He had almost forgotten that he was in a sex game when the girl walked in.

Clearly, she was not from around here. She kept looking around for something as if she was expecting something or someone to walk into the pub. The dress she wore was tight. So tight it showed off every curve of her body, and everyone in the room noticed it now.

She knew it too and clearly liked the eyes of all the men on her as she walked to the bar.

"Who's a girl got to screw to get a drink around here?" She threw her small designer purse down on top of the bar and turned her back to look at the pub full of people.

No one was used to a woman talking so aggressively, not out loud, and the atmosphere changed. John suddenly realized that he was nearest the girl and it must fall to him to provide the drink.

"What would you like to..........."

"Gin," came the curt reply. "I got a taste for it the last time I was here."

"When was that?" asked John, passing her the glass.

"About two hundred years ago."

The girl just gulped the spirit down and dropped the glass on the bar.

"You can't be serious?" laughed John.

"No more serious than a man who plugs himself into a sex simulator and ends up being trapped forever."

"How did you know that?" said John, alarmed.

"I get around." The girl indicated she wanted another drink.

"Are you part of the software?"

"Would the software know you were stuck here? No. It would either crash or get you out," laughed the girl taking another gulp of gin.

"How can you possibly know that?" John demanded to know.

"I told you. I'm not part of the software."

"So, are you an outside operator?" John was confused.

"You could say that."

"Then why not stop the game? It clearly does not work?"

"Works for me," laughed the girl again.

"But you are the first sexy girl I've seen here, and why make me do that horrible job?" John wanted answers now.

"Bad news for you kid. I ain't part of the sex scene."

"What's your name?" asked John, as they watched the pub getting busy around them.

"You can call me Cassey."

"Can you influence the outside world? I mean, my world?"

"I've been there, and this is more fun." Cassey sipped from the glass of gin and smiled.

"Can you help me? Please!" John looked deeply into her eyes now.

"Kid, you were dumb enough to enter a sex simulator, you ain't worth helping."

"Please. You can't mean that? You seem like a nice girl, and I can't believe you would want to condemn someone, for just liking sex?"

"Poor little boy," she simply stroked his face, drained the glass and walked off. On turning she smiled at the man. "There is one thing I can do for you before I leave?"

"Yes, anything!"

"I can give you the luck of the devil. Think about that." With a devilish smile, she was gone.

John was distraught.

If she was a link to the outside world, then he was in big trouble. Maybe she was some mad hacker that has broken into the game and was making fun of him? But they usually were only interested in money, and what money did he have? None.

Factory life dragged on.