All posts by POW

VRealWorld – Part 03

By POW

12: Visiting Hours

Jeff opened the bag from Martin while riding the train back to Brooklyn. It contained a pair of condoms and a small bottle of lube. He snorted. Thanks for the thought, Martin, but you have massively misjudged me if you think I’m going to need these. He stuffed the bag back into his backpack.

It was after 1 AM by the time he got home. Bill’s score continued to slowly drain away, which meant that he wasn’t “entertaining any visitors”, which Jeff had figured out was a very sophisticated-sounding euphemism for “being tortured and fucked by strangers”. That was probably for the best because Jeff was completely beat and wouldn’t have been able to stay awake long enough to go start his rescue attempt. Besides, according to Nightmare, he needed to plan… but that could wait until morning.

He woke up a little after 8, definitely earlier than he would on a typical Sunday. He checked in on Bill, who was up and pacing around his tiny cell again. His score had fallen to 204.

Continue reading VRealWorld – Part 03

VRealWorld – Part 02

Note: This is a sequel to VRansomwear. To start at the very beginning, click here.

VRealWorld

By POW

5: Hunter And His Handler

The bar was much busier when Jeff returned, unsurprising for 8:30 on a Saturday night. Jeff found Martin sitting at the same table as before talking with another man sitting across from him. Martin saw him and waved in greeting.

“Would you excuse me for a moment?” he said to the other at his table, who murmured a polite farewell and stood to go. It was at this point that Jeff noticed the third man at the table, who he had not seen before because he was down on all fours at the feet of the man who was rising to depart. Jeff, the son of generations of Brooklynites, was no stranger to other people engaging in odd behavior and had two stock responses in store for whenever he came across it. One was a blistering stream of profanity and the other was a carefully-blank expression and averted eyes. The first was generally reserved for behavior that affected Jeff in some way and so he was preparing to bring up the second response when something caught him off guard: the man on the floor, who was now rising up just like a dog about to follow in the footsteps of its master, was wearing a thick black rubber suit that looked exactly like the one he had seen Bill in yesterday. Jeff’s poker face crumbled and he gaped like a midwestern farm boy on his first trip to Times Square, only realizing he was doing it when Martin chuckled.

Continue reading VRealWorld – Part 02

VRealWorld – Part 01

Note: This is a sequel to VRansomwear. To start at the very beginning, click here.

VRealWorld

By POW

1: The Prisoner And The Picnicker

The prison cell is not large, maybe ten feet by twelve. There is a long extension at one corner, almost a hallway, at the end of which is a toilet and a sink. The walls are rough-cut stone, dank and dripping with moisture, spotted with lichen and streaked with mineral trails left behind by centuries of trickling water. The air seems like it should be clammy and cold, but instead it is clammy and hot and Bill often finds himself pressing himself up against the stone to try to have it suck some of the excess heat out of his body.

The lighting is dim. Any color that might exist is washed into formless shades of grey. The light comes from nowhere in particular, which is odd because the cell has no windows and there are no light fixtures anywhere that Bill can find. Yet somehow, he can see, though in a limited, gloomy, dismal way. Depressing as it is, at least he’s not stuck in complete blackness.

He has been locked in this cell for what he believes to be more than a week. It is hard to measure time, of course. He is fed occasionally, though on no schedule he can predict, and there is never any change in the light level to draw a distinction between day and night. The only thing keeping him from going insane from boredom and isolation is the occasional arrival of… well, call them “visitors”. Like the food, the visitors arrive at unpredictable intervals and for as long as they are there in the cell with him, boredom and isolation are very low down on his list of troubles. After the visitors leave, after an initial period where he appreciates and enjoys the restored peace and quiet, that’s when the boredom and isolation start to nag at him once more.

He has tried to find a way to escape, of course, but every attempt so far has been unsuccessful. His last serious effort was some unmeasurable amount of time ago. Perhaps two days, maybe three. Since that failure, he has been unable to think of anything to try next. There is one main reason for that:

Continue reading VRealWorld – Part 01

VRansomwear – Chapter 5

VRansomwear

By POW

CHAPTER 5

It had been fairly easy for Evan to find the rubberlad. The VRealWorld app on his phone had said he was in Central Park, then suddenly it said he was in the area of Lincoln Square. He had the cab driver cruise the streets while he scanned the sidewalks for anyone dressed all in rubber. There were few enough people out, and the guy stuck out like a sore thumb. He told the cabbie to pull over, tipped generously, and hit “Enter VRealWorld” on the app, watching the rubberlad as he did. The effect was immediate. The rubberlad stopped his plodding walk and started looking around. Evan climbed out of the cab and stood, watching. Very quickly, the rubberlad spotted him, then started figuring out how to get to him. Evan decided to speed the process along and waited for him at the corner.

The cock-touch came, just as the app’s instructions had said it would. Then the guy knelt down and held up his wrists. Evan was ready – he tapped “Request Control” on the phone screen. In a few seconds, the phone chirped a happy tone and a green “Control Granted” message danced across the screen. He tapped the rubberlad’s wrists and murmured “cuffs”. Nothing seemed to happen.

But when he held up the phone and looked through the app, he could see the silver cuffs. And the rubberlad was certainly acting as if his wrists were now pinned together, trying and failing to separate them. Evan lowered the phone. The real-world view was almost comical, as if the guy was performing some kind of mime act.

[[WARNING: This story contains extreme elements that some readers might find objectionable. Continue reading at your own risk.]]

Continue reading VRansomwear – Chapter 5

VRansomwear – Chapter 4

VRansomwear

By POW

CHAPTER 4

Meanwhile… the next morning, in Queens… and Brooklyn… and across the river in Secaucus, New Jersey …

Ken’s phone chimed with a sound he was not accustomed to hearing. He pulled it out and looked at it.

It was a notification from an app he remembered installing a few weeks back. It was called “VRealWorld” – pronounced with two syllables, the first two letters slurred together like the VRs in “vroom vroom” – and it was supposed to be an online hookup tool like grindr or recon. Like grindr, it supposedly got you in touch with guys near you who shared your interests. But it had never shown Ken anything and after a few days he had forgotten it was even there, had even forgotten that the account had been created under the name “Rockit”. Seeing it now on the screen now his reaction was that it was almost too cutesy a nickname, a callout to the band he played lead guitar for as well as a thinly-disguised reference to dicks and orgasms.

Now the app was chiming for “Rockit’s” attention. The notification said “Rubberlad near you!” A… “rubberlad”? Skeptical, Ken swiped the message.

“A rubberlad has completed the VRealWorld training program and is currently active near you. If you wish to let the rubberlad find you, see you, and interact with you, read on!” There was a link to more instructions.

Continue reading VRansomwear – Chapter 4

VRansomwear – Chapter 3

VRansomwear

By POW

CHAPTER 3

Sunday began with Colin trying to wipe away the crustiness of dried sleep-gunk in his eyes. Still only half-awake, he went to rub them clear and found his fingers’ way blocked by the confining rubber of the hood. For a brief moment overnight, it seemed he had been able to somehow forget that he was a prisoner in a form-fitting cell. His waking had been gentle; he rose smoothly and gradually from the depths of sleep. The lingering vestiges of a pleasant but already fading dream left him with a general sense of well-being. He was comfortable in his bed, the temperature was mild… and so when his hand failed to wipe his eyes the memory of his captivity came crashing back all at once. His mood instantly plummeted.

It was a tight fit, but by using more of the talc supplied in the gym bag he was able to work a finger into the mouth hole of the hood and worm it all the way up to the inner corner of his eye, clearing the tiny but infuriating chunks away. He worried the suit might zap him for tampering, but it allowed his action without interference. Even so, the effect on his mood lingered, and didn’t get better as the day went on.

He had promised Eva he would spend the afternoon at her sister’s birthday party. Prior to a few days ago, he would have told anyone who would listen “I’d do anything to get out of going!”. Now, today, he realized that there were limits on what “anything” might mean; an afternoon with Eva’s family started to seem downright appealing in comparison. Still, there was no way he could show up there. She wouldn’t like it, but he had to tell her he wasn’t going.

Texting seemed best, although it was awkward with rubber-coated fingers. Eva would have preferred he call, but that would have meant a 20-minute-long bitch session he was in no mood to listen to. So he sent a quick “Sorry got 2 cancel 2day. Will make it up 2 u promise.” She took a while to respond, but when she did, to his relief, it was to say “Thats ok, know u don’t like this kind of thing,” which was much better than he expected. He sent back “Thanks, ur the best” in appreciation.

Then it was a scrounge for breakfast – food was running low; he would need to grab some groceries soon. Preferably downtown, far away from home. There were no visitations from muscle-bound deities, so he was on his way by noon.

Continue reading VRansomwear – Chapter 3

VRansomwear – Chapter 2

VRansomwear

By POW

CHAPTER 2

Colin stayed in the changing room for about forty-five more minutes before working up the nerve to leave. He regretted now that the day had been warm; his clothing consisted of baggy jeans, a T-shirt, socks, and sneakers. No matter how he arranged things, there would still be a lot of exposed rubber. Of course, his face was covered by the rubber, too, so that gave him a certain anonymity. Still, everywhere he went he would be a freak.

That realization was what finally drove him out: he was only a few blocks away from Times Square. If there was any place where a freak could blend in, it was there. Especially ten days before Halloween.

He put on everything he could and packed the few other items into the gym bag. Easing the door open, he slipped into the empty hallway and started down the stairs. Here in the early afternoon the locker areas only held a few people; rush hour was when all the commuters from New Jersey and Pennsylvania would swarm through on their way in or out of the city. Now there were only a handful: a white woman in her fifties, a dark young guy, Latino or possibly Arabic, a Wall Street wanna-be in an expensive suit, and a father with his daughter of about six. Colin emerged from the stairwell and strode through the hall with more confidence than he felt.

The six-year-old stared, of course, but that would have happened without the rubber. The rest ignored him in that practiced way New Yorkers have. He kept his own eyes forward… not that any of them could see his eyes… from their point of view his face was a blank mask.

Continue reading VRansomwear – Chapter 2

VRansomwear – Chapter 1

VRansomwear

by POW

CHAPTER 1

The little white pop-up with the blue text on Colin’s phone didn’t look particularly menacing at first. It looked like any other nag screen, wanting Colin to upgrade his OS because he was still running last week’s version and was therefore woefully in need of something better, or informing him that he might like to purchase this killer new game, or letting him know that 4G coverage was spotty here. Colin almost clicked OK from sheer habit.

Even reading the text wasn’t all that distressing . It read “Your phone has been locked” and there was only one button below that read “Instructions”. No cancel, no other explanation.

Continue reading VRansomwear – Chapter 1