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The old house consumed her.
Her affair would be totally induced, never touching a living being but experiencing each sensation through transducers, electrodes, sensors, and the complex electromagnetic flux of the Virtual Reality helmet. Highly sensitive devices could decode the electromagnetic lines of flux to produce an image inside the cerebrum.
"Be careful what you pray for," John advised, "you just might get it."
Jan smiled. She was lubricating another device. After the various tubes and catheters where in place, Jan and John would help Cathy into the electronic mesh that served as her second skin. She would be encapsulated in a miasma of wires, electrodes, and other electronic marvels. Her avatar in cyberspace would respond to the stimulators and sensors. John finished Cathy's prep while Jan began logging onto the Internet. Jan would have to find an Initiate who had hacked into the AI collective to get a spot for Cathy in the dungeon of the Pleasure Fair. This was to be another voyage into the dark realms of cyberspace.
It was necessary to interface on-line with a hacker to gain access to the underground of the Pleasure Fair. The Pleasure Fair was a web site where those of various persuasions could find their fantasies played out. It was all virtual reality, but there were interface possibilities. Jan reached Lobo196 again and obtained the screen name of "lita" for Cathy. As with all submissive girls, the screen name was in lower case Latin letters.
John watched on the video monitor along with Jan as Cathy's "lita" avatar formed in a Spartan prison cell. She was chained to the ceiling in the site; in real life they had improvised a soft cotton rope about the ceiling fan. John hoped that the fan was well anchored into the overhead ceiling. In the matter of a few minutes a Master entered. He was a brutish man with a five-pronged leather whip. For sure this individual's idea of entertainment was rough, kinky sex.
The Master approached lita and looked into her starry blue eyes. Her avatar was striking. She had sculptured shoulders, a glorious silky-smooth mane, a finely arched spine, flat abdomen, a sleek hairless torso, and a carved ivory derriere. She was certainly the statuesque Galatea. She was the creation that the Greek king of Syracuse, Pygmalion, had offered prayers to Aphrodite concerning. The Master walked about lita, examining the avatar. It was truly a work of art. He strokes her flanks and arms, running fingertips over her well-defined jaw line. The he went behind her and tossed her golden tresses over her shoulder and rubbed the nape of her neck.
About her shoulders and back to the nape of her neck he rubbed his calloused hands. Her body was warm and supple. She was totally submissive and purred at his tender touch. She also trembled slightly, knowing that his five-pronged leather whip was brought for some particular reason. He slid his hands under her arms and about her collar bones, then over her perfectly proportioned, firm breasts. Her areolas puckered and her nipples came to attention.
From her breasts he ran inquiring fingers down her midline and to her smooth, shaved hypogastric triangle. He massaged the exterior of her pudenda, not seeking entry but merely arousing her inner desires with expectation. Then he slid his nose along her back. Down her spine his chin outlined; Cathy could feel the stubble of his beard. He had visited the girl before shaving.
Fingertips slid over thighs and buttocks, down long, lanky, lean legs and back again.