Virtual Sexuality Ch. 05

Chapter Five

Connie

"All right Mr....."

"Groltin, Steven Groltin."

"Yes, Mr. Groltin. Tell me just what the problem is."

"It's Jason, Jason Troment. He's stuck in Virtual Sexuality's public matrix."

"Stuck, in a VR matrix. That's impossible. No matrix can hold you for over an hour."

"I know it's supposed to be impossible," the exasperated man said. "But he's there. I went in two days ago. There were only five others on the couches, and he wasn't one of them. Yet I saw him inside. Not only that, he believed that he was in the real world. I checked with his job and family. No one's seen him for over a week, since nine days ago when we both went in together."

"So Jason is your lover?"

"No, no he's not. It's just... he had been experiencing a shift in his sexual orientation and I suggested he try out gay sex in the matrix, as opposed to in the real world. He was horribly upset at the changes he was experiencing. As near as I could tell, he never came out. No one's seen him since."

"If you both went in together, why did you not come out together."

"We did not appear in the same place. He told me he exited after ten minutes and had to reenter. I timed out and they don't allow you to wait on premises."

"And you didn't wait outside?"

He looked sheepish. "I... I ended up letting him experiment with me. He was terrified that someone would recognize him. It was sort of spur of the moment, and I didn't want to deal with possible post sex regret. So I just left and expected him to call me. I saw him a week later in the matrix, believing he was in the real world."

"Why did you go back?"

"A girl. Okay?"

"I see. I'll take the case, but I'm sure there is a totally rational explanation for what happened. I'll need a $500 retainer and my fees are $150 per day plus expenses."

He authorized a transfer to the agency's account and left. I leaned back and thought about the situation. He was not the first. A week ago, a woman named Julie Penderghast actually filed kidnapping charges against the arcade in the disappearance of Melanie Hollings. They were dropped of course. The idea that someone would be kidnapped by a video arcade was ludicrous. I was beginning to wonder.

I started by searching for disappearances in the last three weeks. There were a lot more than you would think, but most could be weeded out easily. By the time I had finished, there were 9 vanished people that could not be easily explained. Two were children, not allowed into virtual reality arcades due to a child's underdeveloped minds. They would start believing the matrices are real. The remaining seven, I was unsure of. Jack Collins, Jason Troment, Julie Penderghast, Gail Storm, David Webster, Kendra Silotin, and Yuri Hallit. What I needed was some way to cross reference this list with a list of recent Virtual Sexuality customers.

For that, I would have to call in an expert. I rang up Spike (you ever wonder why we say 'rang' when no one's phone actually rings).

"Hello?"

"Spike, this is Connie. I need some information."

"Info is my specialty. What do you need?"

"I need a list of every customer that has been to Virtual Sexuality in the past three weeks."

"Do you have any idea how long such a list will be? Virtual sexuality is the hottest craze out there. We're talking over a million customers. In the last three weeks, there were probably 10,000."

"Spike, I've seen the place. It's not that big."

"Remember, they're open 18 hours a day and no customer stays for over an hour. It's the ultimate in safe sex. I can get the data, but it will not be very useful. Just too much."

I thought a moment. "How about cross referencing their list with a list of seven names that I've got?"

"That I can do, much easier too. I suppose you need it yesterday?"

"Close."

"You know Connie. We haven't gotten together recently. You want to mix a little business with pleasure and pick it up yourself tonight?"

My breath came up short. Spike is a dream. I could feel my pussy quiver in anticipation. "That sounds lovely. How about 8 tonight?"

"That's fine. I'll be waiting."

I gave him the list and hung up. I spent the rest of the day pretending to get something done. At 6, I went home and got ready for my visit to see Spike. I took a shower, making sure that every hint of dirt or sweat was off my body. I set my outfit on the bed, ready for the donning process. I covered every inch of my body, except the head, in baby powder. I had to hurry, without going too fast. I wanted to be done before I started to get wet anywhere, but it would rip if I went too fast. The red body suit was made of a new rubber material. I slipped my feet into the feet of the suit, smoothing it against my skin, leaving no air pockets. I pulled it up my legs, moving the air out and sealing the self melding edges.

That's what made this new material so fucking hot. It sealed itself up, becoming a solid piece of rubber. A special ultrasonic wand could open a seam anywhere on it, and that seam could be closed by simply pressing the edges together again (it took significant force, so as to not seal with casual contact). I had to be careful, since only Spike had the wand. The other property would, no doubt, be employed by Spike later. Once I sealed myself into the suit, I had to go to Spike's to get it off. He had a 'price' he extracted before he would do that. I was going to be into the office late tomorrow.

I continued the process, moving slowly up my body. I had to reapply baby powder several times as I started to sweat and become aroused (though a wet pussy was not a problem once I was past my crotch). Once the last seal had been closed, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like I was naked, painted bright red from the neck down. I was sweating profusely in the suit. I cold feel droplets of liquid collecting under the suit. My nipples were poking through the rubber, very visible. My pussy was trying to drip, leaving me stewing in my own juices.

I packed a change of clothes and the head piece, threw on a long trench coat and left for Spike's. I know a trench coat is so cliché for a private eye, but that's not the reason I was wearing it, was it? Rubber is a great sealant. Even with the AC running full blast in my car, there was no relief from the heat I was experiencing. Once I was at Spike's, I slipped the hood over my head, pressing the air out through the neck and pressed the neck of the hood to the neck of the body suit. I kept my hair short, in page boy cut, for just this reason The only visible parts of my body were my eyes, nostrils and lips. I got out and went up to Spike's door.

As I knocked, I could feel little drops of sweat running down my face under the hood. I was sticky inside the suit. I'm sure that under the red rubber, I was just as red from the flush of arousal I was feeling. When he opened the door, I started our little game.

"Spike! I... uh... have a problem. I seemed to have lost my wand. Could you be a dear and use yours to get me out of this?"

"Connie, Connie, Connie," he said with a clucking noise. "I can try, but I don't know how much a charge it has. Come on in."

He touched my arm, sending a shiver running through me. I gasped as he drew me into the house. He led me to the bedroom and made a show of looking through his drawers for the wand. I was stewing, getting hotter and wetter everywhere. He came up with a flourish, brandishing the wand. I inhaled sharply, wanting him so badly. He walked over to where I was and slowly reached out with the wand, running it down the length of my nipple, the rubber splitting slightly under the pressure from inside. When the cool air hit them, I gasped and moaned. They poked out lewdly through the small cuts in the material.

He set the wand down and reached up to pinch them. I bit my lip and the sensation. I could feel his fingers sliding over the wetness that covered them. Little drops of moisture were leaking out the holes as the pressure moved the sweat on me to the only available opening. I could almost feel the warm, salty, water inching across my body, desperate to escape.

He brushed his hands against the trapped parts of my body, arms, legs, belly, face. The muted sensations through the rubber were torturous, enough to arouse, but not enough to satisfy. I had to stand there and let him. That was one of the rules. I could not initiate anything, only let him please me. I was shivering with need. I could feel that aching emptiness in my cunt. My whole body was beginning to itch from the trapped moisture and heat.

Once I was moaning and swaying continuously, he reached up and pulled the lips of my hood shut and sealed them. He did the same with my eyes.

"Turn around, Connie. Bend over and place your hands on the bed."

I did so, bending myself at the waist in the process. I heard the hum of the wand and the rubber around my waist and hips went totally rigid. I could not stand up now even if I had wanted to. He applied the same control to my shoulders, locking my arms in place. Then he applied the wand to my crotch, opening up a seam that exposed my pussy and ass. Now I was frozen in a bent over position with my ass and cunt free for him to use as he wanted. Oh, how I wanted him to want to.

His hand ran across my exposed sex and I started to gasp, sucking rubber into my mouth. All I could do was moan as he caressed my cunt with agonizing gentleness. The attention was raising my body temperature, thus increasing the discomfort in the suit (did I mention how good an insulator rubber is?). Little waves of pleasure rolled out from my pussy, spreading like a slow molasses across my body, the body that was helpless to even respond with some motion, any motion.

I was fast reaching my climax when he stopped. I groaned, whimpering with denial. I tried to move against him, but the hardened rubber was just too strong. Tears were leaking from my eyes, joining the rest of the fluids that were accumulating under my rubber encasement. I could just make out the sounds of him moving and then his voice next to me.

"Connie. Do you want to be released?"

I shook my head. Too soon, not now.

"Do you want to cum?"

I nodded my head. Oh God, yes, I wanted to cum.

"Do you want to be fucked?"

I nodded vigorously. Yes, fuck me hard, take me and make me scream.

I felt his hand caressing my face beneath the mask. His other was caressing my back. I moaned almost constantly under his ministrations. The moaning was as much from my arousal as from my discomfort at the heat and moisture. I just loved the sensuous torture he put me through. He spent the next hour, I think it was, just caressing my body through the suit, ignoring my tits and cunt as they dripped onto the floor and bed.

When something touched my pussy at last, I practically screamed. I had gotten so sensitive that touch was almost painful. Something, his finger, I think, rubbed against my swollen lips, teasing me to a new level. I tried to beg for release, but I could not speak, the rubber seal on my mouth far too effective. All I could do was wallow in my helplessness as he tortured me with raw, unadulterated pleasure. On five different occasions, I was on the verge of orgasm and he stopped. I was beside myself with need, my head whipping back and forth as I groaned in agony.

After my fifth denied orgasm, I felt his cock pressing against my pussy, rubbing in the juices that wee flowing freely now. I so wanted to thrust back against him, but I couldn't. My shoulders and hips would not move, not even an inch. There was liquid accumulating in my hands and feet, the result of slow capillary action. I was sobbing with need, the very place I had hoped he would take me tonight. That's when he slammed his cock into my cunt. I screamed in ecstasy, cumming immediately, a lightning stroke of pleasure arcing through my body. My body shuddered and my pussy clamped on his cock. I felt him pulse and his cum shot into my cunt.

As we both settled down, he pulled out of me. I was waiting for him to release me when I heard his voice next to my head. "I'm not done. Do you want another round?"

I groaned, want naked in my sound. I nodded my head, breathing rapidly. He unsealed a small hole over my mouth and stuck a straw in. I drank copious amounts of water, maybe an entire quart. He unfroze me and let me use the toilet before he reposed me and started again. Yes, I was definitely going to be late to the office, maybe not even make it in.

It was 11 AM when I woke up at Spike's place. I had let myself suffer through two more torturous bouts before I was too exhausted to do any more. As per our standing agreement, I slept in the suit until morning. I felt deliciously horrible, trapped in the remains of the previous night's excitement. The wand was sitting on the nightstand. I took it into the bathroom and unsealed myself, releasing the odor that I had trapped inside with me. I took a nice long shower and cleaned the suit out, putting on the spare clothes I had brought.

The data I had asked for was also there. All of the names on the list, except Yuri Hallit had been to Virtual Sexuality within the last three weeks. Yuri Hallit worked there until nine days ago. Every mysterious disappearance in the last three weeks was connected with the place. There was definitely something going on.

You're probably wondering why such a coincidence was not noticed by the cops. Simple, realy. They had no reason to look. All seven were from different walks of life. Only two had anyone who believed that their disappearance was the result of foul play. Of those two, one did not even go to the police. There is a lot that happens below the surface of noticeability in society that takes being looked for to be seen. It's only when someone hires a person like me that these things are brought out into the light.

The next step would be to investigate the matrices directly, see if the missing people could be found in them. Unfortunately, I have a problem there. You know about the extremely small risk of brain damage when under VR? It's not small for me. It's very large, as in, it has happened. There's no damage to my ability to function in the real world, but I am incapable of entering a virtual reality matrix any more. I would need to take some alternative step.

I had almost all day before I could take that step, so I decided to talk to the friends and family of some of the other missing people. I won't bore you with the details of the conversations. Some of the people never got reported because the people who knew them believed they knew why they were gone. All the reasons were plausible, and without my knowledge of the connections, I would have taken it for granted that they were right. Most often, the obvious answer is the right one.

I took a nap in the late evening and got something from Spike that would help him get more data for me. I wanted to know just what kind of experiences these people had undergone. Were they really trapped in the VR matrices? How is that possible? Is that new advanced VR system actually dangerous? I needed more than just that they had all been to the arcade. I needed to know if there were any similarities in their experiences that could account for their going missing. Hell, I needed to know whither they were actually in the matrices still. The hour limit was supposed to be an absolute.

Virtual Sexuality is open from 9 AM to 3 AM every day. I planned to go in at 4 in the morning. At 3, I donned my infiltration clothes, black jeans, black shirt, you get the idea, and drove to a spot five blocks from their location. I activated an audio-visual scrambler and walked to their front door. The white noise kept me unheard by the few people I might encounter, while the optical pulse generator made you not want to notice me. The front door had far too good a lock on it for the place it was. You only put the level of security that you think you need. Nothing in the place was easy to steal and since cash had been phased out ten years ago, there was no money on site. Fortunately, I have the best electronic pick made, and was able to get in quickly.

None of the inside doors had any locks. I made sure my holo camera was working and made a quick search of the place. None of the chairs in any of the VR rooms were active, or even occupied. I attached one of Spike's data bugs to each VR computer and to the main system in the front office. Then I left and went home. In the morning, I called Spike to see what he had.

"Connie. Was there anyone in the VR chambers when you went in?"

"No. Totally empty and shut down."

"No, not true," he said. "Every VR matrix in the place was active, running at full power, when I started my downloads this morning. Someone was in there, interacting. Not only interacting, but they've been in for well over an hour, supposedly impossible. Something else strange. The matrices are connected, not independent."

"Why is that strange? Don't VR arcades really only run one matrix?"

"Usually, but Virtual Sexuality claims that each matrix is completely separate. Why claim that, if it wasn't true?"

"Maybe it has something to do with the sex part of the experiences?"

"I guess. I suppose that someone from the public matrix would not like to think there was a chance that they could cross over to the dungeon matrix."

"They have a dungeon?"

"Oh yeah. They have 18 separate specialty matrices that seem to cater to some kinky sexual play. They even have a rape matrix, where you can pretend to be raped or rape someone. Why would someone want something like that?"

"Don't ask me. I'm just a rubber girl. About the missing people?"

"Oh, right. I can't tell you what they were experiencing, beyond what matrix they were in, but I do have records of the physiological readouts of their experiences."

"Why would those exist? VR doesn't cause an effect in the real world."

"Actually, that's not true. It can have an effect, it just can't cause any harm. Safety protocols. Of course, filters on the feedback systems keep those from being used. You would not have a harmful effect on the body unless a spectacularly painful death were to occur on the virtual side. The cut outs take place long before that happens. The monitors measure your physical reactions and pull you out if it passes a certain point, a point that is based on your own bodily reactions."

"What do these readouts show?"

"Each of the seven was pulled out of the matrix at the moment of virtual climax."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. The look of a virtual orgasm is well known in their system. These seven were in the middle of a climax when they either used their exit icon or timed out."

"What happened to them physically when they woke up?"

"Can't tell. The monitors turn off at exit. No need for monitoring any more."

"Can you tell if anyone else climaxed during withdrawal from the matrix?"

"It might take a while, but I can look. There's an awful lot of data here."

"Make it as fast as possible. This could be important."

After the call, I downloaded my holo camera images and had the display compile a three dimensional holo of the entire complex. It was bigger than it looked. There had been three full floors with VR rooms on each level, along with offices of various types. There were plenty of gaps, but every building had them. That's were all the unseen technology that makes our lives work is hidden. Those gaps, however, are too small to be of any use in hiding something.

There was one gap that was different. It was square, seven feet to a side and about nine feet tall, on the second sublevel. The floors above it had restrooms in that position, but this was just the right size for an elevator, one that could only go down. I needed to go back. It was beginning to make sense now. The matrices were running because there were people in them, the trapped people. I wasn't sure about why the matrices were connected, but that would come to me. The big question was, is this a series of accidents that was being covered up, or was it something more malicious?