Stories From The 6 Train 2(9)
It’s weird, but I don’t see a thing. There’s just darkness, as if I’ve gone blind. I have no idea how this Illicit Escape thing works, but it has taken complete control of my sight. I can still feel the glasses sitting on the bridge of my nose, but I can’t see them anymore. Then, like a fog that starts to clear, I see a flicker in the distance, an oasis right in the middle of the darkness.
Even though I’m sitting, I feel myself moving as I walk toward the light in the distance. It seems that the Illicit Escape not only affects what you can see, but all of your other senses as well. Oh, this is going to be good … Really good.
As I close in on the object, I realize it’s a mirror. There’s no illumination in this empty and dark virtual place I’m in, so it seems the flat surface of the mirror isn’t reflecting any light; instead, it’s from there that the light comes. From the other side of the mirror, my reflection looks straight into my eyes.
My hair is tied up in a ponytail, and I’m wearing nothing aside from a pair of high-heels, black stockings, and a matching pair of black lace panties and bra. My lips are painted with a deep red, the color of wine, and I can’t help but lift one finger and brush it over my mouth. It’s a strange feeling. I feel my real body frozen in place, but my body in this dream world reacts, and I touch my lips with one fingertip. And I can actually feel it.
This is insane; this thing has to be worth millions and millions of dollars. No, scratch that… We’re talking billions here. This is so far beyond what anyone has managed to pull off. Once he launches Illicit Pleasures, Ethan will become the undisputed King of Porn… And I bet that it won’t take long for his VR technology to make him as rich as God once he ventures outside of the sex industry. No wonder Simon is dying to get his hands on this prototype. Forget about porn, this is a game changer.
My thought process doesn’t take long to derail. I see someone moving in the mirror, drawing close, and I turn on my heels to face him. Ethan is standing right behind me, wearing what looks like a million dollar suit; from the crisp white shirt to the polished black shoes, everything on him seems arranged to perfection.
“Hello, Brittney,” he says, gently smiling, and he sounds just like the real Ethan.
“Hello,” I hear myself responding, even though my real lips aren’t moving. The longer I spend with the glasses, the more they seem to be working their magic on me. There’s already a noticeable change taking place; it all looked so life like, but now… It just seems real.
“Ready for the ride of your life?” The Ethan in front of me tells me, undoing his tie at the same time. “I’m here to do… whatever you want.”
“Whatever I want,” I repeat after him, the words taking on an almost mystical sound. His smile turns into a grin, and he starts unbuttoning his shirt then, his fingers moving with maddening patience. As his chiseled pectorals and abs come into view, my pussy starts to grow wet. Oh, when all this is over, I’m getting one of these glasses.
Once Ethan takes off his shirt, he unbuckles his belt and pulls it out. Without taking his eyes off of me, he joins the two ends of the belt in his hand, and then snaps it tight.
“Close your eyes,” he commands me, and I feel that steady pulse of light against my eyelids again. Once it subsides, I open my eyes again and my surroundings have changed; we’re in an enormous room now, and there’s a bed right in the middle of it. The floor is all carpeted in red, and so are the walls; there are no windows or doors in this place, and the illumination seems to come from the top and bottom corners of the room. Ethan remains in front of me, though, his chest bare and the belt in his hand.
Without saying a word, I know what he wants me to do. I saunter toward the bed, and bending over, I jut my ass back as I place my hands on top of the mattress. Somehow, the machine is reading my innermost desires, pulling them out from their unconscious slumber and turning them into something tangible.
“Use me, Ethan,” I find myself saying, my whole body tensing up as I prepare for the impact of the belt. To my surprise, it doesn’t come; instead, he simply brushes the leather belt against my ass cheeks, gently moving it up and down. He’s teasing me; it seems that the machine is devious enough to not only know what you want… but also what you need.
“Beg,” his word seems like a command from a god, and my insides clench in response. My thong is already drenched in my wetness, and I feel it sticking to my skin. By now, I can’t even feel my real body; my world is now inside this reality. Still, I’ll bet that my real thong is as soaked my digital one.