The Avatar Experiment (The Future of Sex Book 3)

by Lexi Maxxwell

  “I’m following your lead!” Tony yelled for no reason, again grabbing his ear.

  “Where do you want me to lead you, then?”

  “I want to cum on your face!”

  Chloe, eager to lead Tony wherever he wanted to go, tilted her head back. He stood in a rush, took his cock from her mouth and grip, then began rubbing in long, powerful strokes. Her spit on his dick made his shaft shine as his legs began to buckle. He gripped the bed’s edge behind him as bursts of warm cum sprayed from his cock. Chloe felt it on her chin, cheeks, and dripping into her open mouth. She felt it slap the back of her hair. It kept coming, and Tony kept pumping his fist. Chloe felt it land in one eye, keeping it firmly shut. A streamer shot into her mouth, and she tasted it as it slid down her throat.

  She opened her non-cum-filled eye and peered up as Tony’s heavy breathing slowed and saw him holding his huge, still-hard cock, its tip dripping onto her chin.

  Charisma said, “Tell me you got that.”

  “I think so,” said Benson. His demeanor had changed, his smile was gone. The footage was all over the place. Tony stood before the camera could pull back, and Chloe had tipped her head so all the controlled camera saw was the back of her hair. There were three other nano-cams skipping around in the room, but Benson could only direct one at a time. It would have been simple if he’d been able to pause the action and reposition either the actors or the shot, but that wasn’t possible. Uncontrolled nano-cams would try their best to capture the action, but couldn’t do so with Eros quality or composition. The cameras were largely built for spying, and sold to voyeurs on the Crossbrace black market. They did an excellent job of recording what happened. But their footage was utilitarian, with no artistic flair.

  “Not according to what I saw,” said Olivia.

  “The other cams might have gotten a good angle,” said Charisma.

  “I doubt I can use unmanned nano-cam footage,” said Benson, shaking his head. “It looks like something shot with a security camera.”

  “Vic’s cam, then.” Charisma turned to the others. “He has a camera embedded in both corneas. You should see the 3-D POV stuff we can do.”

  “He had his eyes closed.”

  Charisma looked at the screen as if it had wronged her. “He closed his eyes? He’s a fucking porn actor!”

  “Yes,” said Alexa, “but apparently he’s having his mind blown along with his dick.”

  Chloe batted her eyelashes at Tony again. It was the third time she’d done it, but now one of her eyelashes had his cum on it. Why mess with what worked? Tony wanted a cheesy porn character, then that’s what he would get — repetition of moves be damned.

  “That was soooo sticky!”

  “Do you feel warmer now?” Tony asked. His hand was back on his cock after a 30 second hiatus. It had never gone limp, and already looked ready for more. He had to have neural nanobots in his system, and they clearly had instructions to stay below the belt. Since Chloe started working for O, the idea of people having nanobots in their systems had gone from rumor to fact. She only dealt with the upper crust now, and everyone was younger, stronger, leaner, more attractive, and more virile than nature seemed to have intended. Eighteen-year-olds could fuck two or three times with no refractory period, but Tony looked to be 30 or more — and, in line with her earlier thoughts about rejuvenation bots, could be 50.

  Chloe stood, her medium-sized tits with pert, pink nipples full and in need of attention. She ran a hand across her cheek, wiping the last of Tony’s cum (the bit she hadn’t rubbed into her mouth with her finger) from her face. She licked her finger and ran it back down between her legs, to slide between the lips of her hairless pussy.

  “Everywhere but here.”

  “I’m going to fill you up,” he said.

  “Fill me,” she said, imagining herself pulling a hovercar into a recharge station.

  “You want me to top off your fluids?”

  “I want you to plumb all of my holes.” Chloe didn’t even know what she was saying. It didn’t seem to matter. In the last 10 seconds, she’d been a demure schoolgirl, a motorist, and apparently a girl who’d hired someone to clean her pipes. Almost literally.

  “All of them?”

  Chloe felt her pussy drip with anticipation. She lay back on the bed, and spread her legs. Tony stripped off the rest of his clothes and came up between them. His chest was, as suspected, well-muscled with a clearly defined and symmetrical six-pack. It meant less today than it used to, before body enhancement, but still made Chloe wet as she held her knees back, widening herself for entry.

  “This one for sure,” Tony said. He scooted higher, lay on top of her, and filled her slit with his hard dick. Chloe gasped. Her tunnel gripped him, her lips slurping at his shaft like a kiss.

  “Oh. Oh … and … ?”

  He’d slipped a hand underneath his thrusting cock, under his swinging balls. She felt a wet finger slide into her ass.

  “Your ass is tight.”

  “Yes.” She clenched her pussy, to show him that everything was. He moaned, then slid a second wet finger into her asshole. It was too tight, then the feeling grew pleasant. Chloe normally wasn’t into assplay, but when with a guy, she was barely herself. Right now Chloe was an over-the-top character in a cheesy porn vid, and that girl wanted her ass fingered and fucked.

  “Do you want to do something dirty?”

  “I’m not that kind of girl,” Chloe said as he fingered and fucked her.

  “Roll over.”

  “Oh yes.”

  “I’m going to put it in your ass. I’m going to drop a load in your ass.”

  “Oh no!” Chloe squeaked with nervous laughter. If he could have seen her face as she pressed it into the pillow, she would have batted her eyelashes again.

  Anticipation made everything hotter. Chloe couldn’t see his cock coming. Her pussy felt vacant. She wanted it filled. She even wanted it in her ass. With her face in the pillow, she couldn’t know when it was coming.

  The thing that touched her ass wasn’t a dick. It was a finger again. She was flat on her stomach, nipples brushing the bed’s soft comforter, hips down and legs together. Everything was tight and compacted so the finger was a surprise as he straddled her, his knees on the bed on each side of her ass. Chloe could feel Tony’s hot cock resting on her as his finger slid inside, but the finger had something on it. Some sort of plastic. It began to feel warm and send pleasure inside her.

  Chloe came instantly, her body pinned to the bed by its weight. It was some sort of an anal aid, probably something to open her up while hitting all the right spots. It could be a thin film or maybe be a ring. Chloe couldn’t tell. She only knew that she couldn’t stop cumming and that her asshole was creeping open as she got hotter. Tony’s cock was pressing her open further, filling her. She could feel his fingers behind her, too, lower, sliding into her sopping hole.

  Tony didn’t last long. He fucked her asshole for a few minutes, and Chloe lost track of her orgasms. She bit the pillow, made fists with covers on the bed. She could feel the soaking sheets beneath her. His cock felt good in her ass and gave her something hard to grip.

  Tony pulled out, yelled something she was beyond hearing, and then Chloe felt another load of hot jizz spatter her back. He rubbed his dick up and down when finished, sampling both holes, probing as if for further entry.

  “I’m so glad I didn’t wear underwear,” Chloe said, turning her head to the side.

  “Yeah, baby,” Tony said, over the top, “I fucked you good.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “YEAH, BABY, I FUCKED YOU good,” Benson said in an unaccented monotone, as if reading from a box of breakfast cereal.

  “He was following her lead,” said Olivia. “Does that help at all?”

  Alexa looked at Olivia, meeting her profile. Olivia didn’t look over. Alexa found the exchange cute. Olivia was against trying Chloe in one of Charisma and Benson’s vidstreams, and now that it had gone so poorly, it was her ch
ance to gloat. But Benson and Charisma were artists, and it was as if someone had slashed a brilliant canvas. Nobody said it, but everyone felt sorry for them.

  “Not at all,” said Benson. “This is all shit, even if I mute it. The things they say, the way they act … ” He trailed off, then sighed. “Hell, I couldn’t sully Eros with that. It’s bargain basement fucking. In my grandfather’s day, she would’ve asked him to check her oil.”

  Benson ran his fingers across the editing screen, scrubbing footage of Chloe and Vic back and forth, shaking his head at the certainty that the footage was totally unusable — cornball, the wrong angles and wrong positioning, the wrong things in shadow. He touched unnecessary buttons for something to do, seeming near tears. The editing canvas was the perfect embodiment of the Eros brand. Benson could have edited (or attempted and failed to edit) Chloe’s scene in a small laptop canvas and had plenty of room to spare, but Eros had always demanded the best, even (and especially) when the best wasn’t necessary. Half the NAU’s erotic performers were 10s who could make an average porn watcher have an orgasm by bending over to gather a coin from the floor. Videos could have been shot, edited, compiled, and delivered on handhelds, but Eros used primarily unenhanced natural models, cameras with glass lenses, and editing canvases capable of hacking the Enterprise Party’s network. Eros’ excess was the very thing that made it extraordinary.

  “We could try it again,” said Alexa. “With a less shitty actor.”

  Parker shook his head. “The idea is fundamentally flawed. You want to create a vidstream or holo of Chloe without bringing Chloe into it because you don’t want to lose control of her if the vid becomes a hit, but if she’s not aware she’s in a scene she’s going to play to the guy, not the audience.” He looked at Benson. “So, your girl Stolichnaya … ”

  “Slava,” Charisma said.

  “The little trigger she does that makes your viewers pop at the tip? I guess it’s safe with her. Chloe could only imitate Slava if she was there with Slava and knew that she was supposed to imitate her … and oh, by the way, to then repeat it while fucking a guy later on … instead of focusing on the guy. She’s a chameleon. You’re telling her not to match her current background, but to match a totally different background based on your market research. Good luck with that.”

  “A voyeur scene then,” said Alexa.

  “A voyeur scene will look like a voyeur scene,” said Benson. “We want a feature.”

  Alexa tapped her chin.

  “Here’s an idea,” Benson said, still toying with footage. “How about we just tell her to do a scene?”

  Alexa shook her head. “No way. Same reason as before. Chloe Shaw is a bomb. We don’t want her going off until we have her in place for maximum damage. And by damage, I mean to the rest of the industry.”

  “It’s one vidstream, Alexa,” argued Charisma. “What’s the chance that a single vidstream will make a difference and send her spiraling out of control?”

  “By the same logic, why do it?” Alexa countered. “It’s one video. Why risk it? You have hundreds of the hottest men and women on the planet, eager to stick parts of themselves into each other. Chloe is the one we’re hanging so much forward development on. The avatar. Learning AI. The future of sex! Why don’t you let it go, make your scenes with other girls?”

  Benson grumbled. Charisma turned toward the screen and sighed. “For something so terrible, it was incredibly hot,” she said. “She almost made retro porn sexy.”

  “Close doesn’t count,” Benson said.

  “Still, she even got a good performance — sex-wise, not dialogue — out of Vic. When he used that dilator and had her begging for him to put it in her ass? Holy shit! And we barely shoot anal.”

  “That’s exactly why this is worth doing!” said Benson. “When she works as an escort it’s fantastic, and she blows their socks off, and we can charge higher and higher prices, but I think this stopped being about money for all of us a while ago. We want to push the ball, and Chloe isn’t scalable as an escort. You shoot a scene like that properly, and it would revolutionize what we do. Just think if we could train her to ‘harmonize’ or whatever it is that she does with viewers, according to our stipulations. We could shoot three or five versions of each scene, with her playing to a different customer schema in every one. We repackage the existing Eros viewer in a new casing and call it ‘interactive,’ tune the sensors so they read the user, and play the scene most likely to get them off. We could charge three times as much for the vidstreams — and shit, a hell of a lot more if we did holos — and we could up the price of the viewers along with adoption, because you can only watch the interactive scenes on the interactive viewers. Sales of viewers — spire high — and we’d own the market because no one else would have anything like it. Secure the patents, do it right when The Beam comes out of beta and harness that AI. By the time we came out of patent we’d have so much of a head start in mindshare, no one could ever catch up. And as a side benefit, think how much more data we’d have to throw at R&D if everyone was using our viewers and sending us biometrics!”

  Alexa nodded slowly. “I know. The AI stuff is just a step above what you’re saying. The point is, we can only go so far while keeping Chloe in the dark. With vidstreams, holos, or the rest of what we want to do with her. Eventually, she has to enter all of this, and we’ll have to pay her a ton once she recognizes her value. That day will come. But as you said, Benson — we get as much of a head start now as we can.”

  Parker rolled his head. “I see where you’re going, and don’t like it.”

  “Shut it, Parker,” Alexa said. “The first time you try anything, it’s tricky. You know that. And hell, you’re a shrink; you can help with the next one. The trick to making this work is finding the ideal guy. We need a perfect subject, not an Eros reject. When we find him, we don’t send Chloe on a job to meet him. Instead, it must be natural, like what we do for elite spa clients. They don’t know we’re throwing a bone, why would she?”

  Benson perked up. Charisma stood from her chair beside him, the two filmmakers looked like puppy dogs waiting for a treat.

  “Yes, kids,” said Alexa, looking around at Olivia, Parker, and Houston, daring them to contradict her. Even if all three protested, it’d still be three to three. O’s ties went to Alexa. “We’re going to let you try again.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “CHLOE,” SAID HER BEAM AVATAR, Brad, “I must remind you this is forbidden space. You’re trespassing.”

  Chloe was sitting on the floor, canvas gloves on, hands up and working. The intuitive web of Beam, Crossbrace, and even ancient Internet pages were spread before her. The Web, as Chloe worked on it over time and threw more and more pages aside in her search, was as sloppy as any real space. She thought of her days as a girl with her mother, and Mom yelling at a young Chloe to clean her room.

  She answered without looking over at the hologram. “Noted.”

  “I don’t think your employers gave you this canvas to snoop through their archives,” said Brad.

  “Really? Are you sure? For all we know, they wanted us to uncover this. They basically duplicated a section of Crossbrace to wall off the Beam beta. Then they gave me the canvas, which accessed that walled-off section, and told me nothing. I believe Parker Barnes’ exact and exhaustive instructions were, ‘Have fun.’ As far as I’m concerned, this is like overachiever parents dropping a miniature violin into a baby’s crib and expecting a prodigy. The baby will screw around with the thing, and eventually maybe make a note or two. You know what they say about Tokyo Square? How DZPD looks the other way on all sorts of tech crimes and hacking because some of those crimes are shortcuts to innovation? I figure, they gave me the canvas. They told me to explore, same as with all of my clients. ‘Hey, Chloe, here’s some guy with a giant dick who you know nothing about. Have fun.’ Same deal. They want me to figure things out, Brad. For all we know, they put this all in here on purpose, meaning for me to find it.”

&
nbsp; Brad’s avatar said nothing, but stared at Chloe as she looked over with a handful of trashable holographic Crossbrace pages clenched in her fist. She wouldn’t have thought it possible for a hologram to convey condescension with a look, but there it was.

  “You think I’m rationalizing.”

  “Maybe. But hey, if this console is just another client with a giant dick … ” He trailed off. Chloe wasn’t sure where Brad was going, but she’d stopped trying to figure the avatar out. She didn’t think of him as being the personification of the machine in front of her, nor did she think of him as software. Chloe didn’t think of him as an “it” and had even made the dangerous mistake of forgetting that he wasn’t actually her old boyfriend, but instead an electronic avatar made to look and act like him. To Chloe, the avatar was “Brad,” or “him,” and sometimes she referred to things that had happened with the real Brad as if the avatar would know. Sometimes, he acted friendly. Sometimes moody. And sometimes, as impossible as it should have been, he seemed judgmental.

  “You’re a fucking hologram, Brad.”

  “I’m more than a hologram.”

  “You don’t have a dick. Even if you did, I wouldn’t suck it. So, if this is about you and me and what I do for a living … ”

  “The history of ‘you and me’ began when you opened the box.”

  Chloe eyed Brad, then mentally said, Whatever.

  “Your objection to my trespass is noted, Brad. Now if you could verify that my connection is isolated, that’d be peachy.”

  “The only party you might not be isolated from and who might care what you’re doing is O,” said Brad. “I think it’s safe to say that if they wanted to snoop on you, they wouldn’t program me to give it away. So yes, with that out of the way, your connection is secure.”

  Chloe ignored him. If O didn’t want her snooping in the ancient section of the 2000s-era Internet she had discovered under the Crossbrace framework upon which the Beam beta was built (a structure on top of a structure on top of a structure, like a set of nested dolls), then they should have cleaned it more completely before giving the new girl access. Whatever she found was finders keepers, and the first thing she’d found, that first night she’d uncovered the Internet’s skeleton, was so intriguing, Chloe hadn’t been able to resist returning for more.