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Story

VRansomwear – Chapter 4

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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.

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Story

VRansomwear – Chapter 3

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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.

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Story

VRansomwear – Chapter 2

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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.

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Story

VRansomwear – Chapter 1

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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.

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Story

The Bare Minimum Cage

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By POW

He awakens in darkness. He is lying on his stomach, his head cradled on one of his arms, which has gone tingly and numb. He tries to move it and quickly bumps into walls in every direction: up, down, left, right. He panics for a moment, wondering if he somehow has forgotten the beginning of whatever bondage scene he is currently in, because the last thing he remembers is not a bondage scene at all but an ordinary night at home.

He would have no way of knowing that he was locked into a solid-walled cage that, at its greatest extent, would encompass less than two cubic meters of space. And that the cage was currently configured to allow him only half that much room. All he knows is that he can’t move, can’t see, can’t budge the walls that enclose him from head to toe, and the panic begins to blossom inside his chest, making his heart race and the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up in alarm …

Ah, but I’m getting ahead of myself …

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