“Hey, where’s the fire?” Darla chided her, and gently untangled herself from Connie’s shoulder straps.
Burning you know where. “Sorry,” Connie mumbled. “I’m just ready to go home.”
“I’ll bet. Was that Aaron I saw leaving here? What did he want?”
“I don’t know,” Connie said as she followed her friend out the door. “Actually, I do. He came to give me this.” She waved the envelope in the air. “All I can say is I didn’t put him up to it, for once.”
Darla looked back as if to say something, but instead faced the front and shook her head. “Okay.”
“Sorry, Dar. He just set me on edge.”
“No problem. What did he give you? I thought all your mail was coming to my place.”
“I thought so, too.” Both women started up the hall toward the faculty parking lot, Connie fumbling with the envelope. The return address belonged to her mother, and only when Connie managed to unfold the letter inside did she remember that her mother had promised to help out with the divorce.
Connie tried to keep a straight face as Darla chatted with her on the way to the car. She smiled and nodded and clutched the check for a thousand dollars tightly in her fist.
They arrived home to the dulcet tones of a ballad on classic guitar. Their new neighbor Mark had his front windows open, and through the filmy white curtains Connie spied the hunky blond hunched on a stool, full concentration devoted to his instrument.
“I wouldn’t mind devoting time to his other instrument.” Connie giggled at the thought, then swallowed back a gasp when Darla nudged her shoulder.
“What was that you said?”
Shit. Had she said that out loud? But Darla was already up the stairs and in the apartment before Connie could answer. Darla had been in a very good mood on the drive home, chatting and joking gaily with Connie as if the unpleasantness of Sunday never occurred. That Roy had something to do with it was a given, and once Connie managed to break free of Mark’s hypnotic overture she hurried upstairs to learn she was about to like Roy even more.
Darla’s leather briefcase lay on the breakfast table, still fastened. Rather than toss everything into her room and immediately dress down for the evening, as was her friend’s ritual, Darla clipped around the narrow kitchen floor in her heels, ear to the phone and trailing the long, curling cord behind her. “You going to be okay for dinner on your own?” she called over her shoulder. “I’m meeting Roy at the Java Hut to grade, then dinner.”
“Oooh.” Connie perched at the table, her chin resting over her folded arms. “A study date. How romantical.”
“Shut up.” Yet, for all the attempts to sound annoyed, Darla laughed. “Seriously, you gonna be okay? There isn’t much to eat around here?”
“Oh,” Connie cast a surreptitious glance toward the computer monitor, “I’ll manage. I’m sure I’ll find something good to eat.”
Or someone.
Chapter Nine
“I wonder…?”
Onscreen, Min Connie dawdled about her house, bemoaning the bare Min cupboards. She had been a good girl today, as her mistress had been. Connie took care of all school work before firing up the computer for play. Never let it be said DoMINion dominated her entire life, just the fun parts.
Connie typed in a few commands and waited. Seconds later, a Minivan decorated in tiny pepperoni spots pulled in front of Min Connie’s curb, and out popped a delivery boy with pizza.
Seconds after that, Connie was roused from her chair by a muffled pounding noise. Outside her door, a young lad of about eighteen wearing a paper hat and smelling of onions and grease mashed the doorbell across the way and cursed.
Sensing he was being watched, he turned with an agitated glare and Connie informed him that the apartment was vacant until the summer, when its part-time residents returned for the season. “I think you’re the victim of a prank,” she told him coolly, yet her heart pounded wildly.
“Shit.” The boy looked down at the bent box, then thrust it into Connie’s hands. “Merry Ho-Ho,” he grumbled, bolting down the stairs. Connie stared at the pizza, amazed that the ploy had worked.
If only that damned Go! button would, too.
“Shalom,” Connie called meekly to the delivery boy’s fading retreat. Had she cash handy, she would have gladly offered some. As it was, all she had was the check.
The wafting aroma of cheese and bacon did much to assuage the guilt of obtaining dinner by unethical means. Within the hour Connie finished half the pie, and decided next time that a Haagen-Dazs truck was going to meet with an unfortunate accident in Min Acres.
Though Darla had been somewhat emphatic in her resolve that DoMINion played no role in her relationship with Roy, Connie decided to play it safe and set their miniature counterparts on their own course. A few clicks of the keyboard programmed Min Darla and Min Roy to complete autonomy, and Connie enjoyed watching their progress onscreen. True to Darla’s earlier revelation, she found the two Mins in a coffee shop, huddled together on a sofa, their tiny Min hands curled around steaming cardboard cups as they giggled and pecked at each other.
“How cute,” Connie drawled aloud, casting a baleful side glance to the split screen at Min Connie, alone and stretched on the couch in front of the TV. How utterly, sickeningly cute. How deliciously pink teddy-bear and cherry-flavored gumdrops cute.
Connie stopped herself before her forefinger stretched across to the mouse button. Don’t … she warned herself. This stupid game wasn’t worth risking a friendship, even if to liven up her viewing habits. She would not override the autonomy and manipulate them into having hot sex for her voyeuristic pleasure. No, if Darla wanted an orgasm tonight she was going to have to get it herself.
As it happened, Min Darla didn’t seem far away from one. After a few clandestine whispers, the happy Min couple left the coffee bar. Connie tracked the brief journey to Min Roy’s, where the amorous host didn’t waste any time escorting his lady to the bedroom. Pants, shirts, socks and undergarments flew in every direction and soon Min Darla had her heels digging into Min Roy’s shoulder blades as he planted his face between her thighs to eat her pussy.
“How cute,” Connie repeated, though her voice lacked its earlier whimsy.
The view options menu allowed Connie a close-up shot and the opportunity to play voyeur at different angles. She steered the vantage point so that she could look down the landscape of Min Darla’s writhing body. Min Roy lolled his head between upraised knees, alternating between tonguing his lover’s pussy and pursing his lips over Min Darla’s clit and sucking in a gentle upward motion that appeared to drive her wild. Connie parted her knees slightly, feeling a hint of air breeze through the loose cuffs of her shorts, tickling her own moistening lips as they parted on their own.
Min Darla then flipped over to all fours, presenting her ass for a good doggy-style fucking. Rather than rise to his knees and impale her with his hardened shaft, however, Min Roy remained at eye level, parted Min Darla’s buttocks and commenced with a rimjob that sent his lover’s face pinched in ecstasy.
“O-kay, enough of that.” Not one for “arse” play, Connie shut off that view entirely, yet still felt the twinge of jealousy tease her clit as she shifted in place. She fought the urge to slip a finger under her shorts to relieve the ache, deciding to find other inspiration for her pending orgasm. To this end, she maneuvered Min Connie into doing something more constructive.
“Constructive, heh,” Connie muttered to herself as her pet entered the as-yet used dungeon. With its unpainted walls and heavy equipment, the dungeon did have an unsightly construction site look to it. The urge to come faded quickly with the realization that work still needed to be done. Hardly inspiring, Connie knew if she wouldn’t be able to concentrate in such a place, how would her pet fare?
Thankfully, there was enough in Min Connie’s account to purchase a few buckets of dark satin paint, soft lighting, and a few posters of couples in erotic poses to offset the harshness of the ra
cks and cross. In fifteen minutes—perhaps a few hours in Min time, Connie guessed—everything was set, and as Min Connie admired her handiwork her doorbell rang.
“Huh?” Connie could already see Min Mark at the front door waiting to be answered, and wondered why her own bell hadn’t chimed. Was something not working in the program? Or perhaps Mark had returned to DoMINion, assuming he came from the game in the first place, and now had autonomy.
“No.” If Min Mark had come to life, would he have spoken to them in that damned annoying Min language earlier? Were Mins bilingual? Bisexual? Bi-polar? Connie wondered if she was the latter.
A rattling conversation began amicably, with Connie at the controls trying to add a bit of spice. After a few flirt commands she decided to pull out all stops and invite Min Mark to inaugurate the dungeon. Whether as master or slave, it didn’t matter, so long as Connie ended up with some good visuals to aid her self-love before bed.
Connie clicked the mouse in the command box to find Go! had returned. She squealed and pulled her hand back, as though the mouse turned hot. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest and nearly shot into her throat. Yes! Would it work this time, could she be so fortunate as to break in the sex playground herself?
As she moved her wrist she happened to catch the time on her watch. After midnight … when the Go! command first popped onscreen. Perhaps that was why she couldn’t get it to work the other day.
One click illuminated the command box, but before she released her hold on the mouse Connie caught her breath. What about Min Aaron? No telling if he would return tonight for more fackon nin, or whatever the Mins called it.
Carefully she angled the pointer away, and searched for Min Aaron. Elsewhere in the neighborhood, the same Min that had fucked her senseless on Min Connie’s sofa now knelt before Min Suzy’s perky little knees in their home, his tiny fingers twined in a ball as he pleaded for something. A second chance, dinner, a conversation not limited only to monosyllabic words, who the hell knew? It was clear, though, that Min Aaron had no intention of leaving Min Suzy, for a Min or otherwise.
Which meant that more than likely Aaron had no intention of leaving his juicy piece of silicone. Could that have been the reason for his impromptu appearance at school? Maybe the letter was a last-minute ruse; he could easily have had it forwarded. He remained quiet to spare her feelings, no doubt.
Well, no point in sparing Aaron’s feelings. Connie realized she was truly free, same as her computer counterpart.
“Aaron,” Connie told the cowering figure in the corner of the computer screen, “fack you.” And she hit the Go! command with a flourish.
Chapter Ten
To think, it had only been a day or so since last visiting DoMINion, but to Connie it felt much more time had elapsed. The odd, suction pull of the computer screen, the quivering sensation in the pit of her stomach that spread quickly to her clit, the raging orgasmic transfer into the other dimension…it amazed Connie how quickly she had forgotten how it felt to Go!
Oh, how she loved to Go! Now that she knew how, she would take care to Go! as often as possible.
The world slowed to a crawl as her orgasm faded. Connie focused on the prickling sensation in her nipples and the back of her neck, imagining a hand smoothing them to calm. Once she was able to orient herself in Min Connie’s home, she righted her body against the door, clenching her pussy muscles to prevent what would certainly become an embarrassing flood.
She caught her breath and smiled up at Min Mark, whose flashing eyes appeared as blue and soft as his counterpart’s. Definitely, this was not the man who lived in the downstairs apartment—like Min Aaron, this handsome creation was chiseled with angular features, looking more like a computer simulation.
“Stahnt nekko hurtz. Skrack?” His features wrinkled slightly, looking concerned, and Connie wondered if the Min had detected anything strange during her transfer to DoMINion. She tried her legs and, confident she would not melt into a post-orgasmic puddle, opened the door wider and invited the now smiling Min into the house.
“I just did some remodeling, would you like a tour?” Connie felt relieved to see Min Mark didn’t appear put off by the language barrier. Nevertheless, it bothered Connie not to understand completely what people in Min Acres were saying.
She thought a moment, watching Min Mark pace in a circle around the living room to admire the decor. What had Min Aaron said to her last time? Then it hit her.
“Pahsha ree. Jahme clah.” She hoped to get the pronunciation correct. Considering her state of mind when Aaron spoke those words, it amazed her that she could remember any Minese.
Min Mark froze in mid-step, and turned to Connie as if he’d been slapped. The sudden reaction came unexpectedly, and Connie thought at first to escape through the front door in case Min Mark become agitated or combative. What had she said?
Where would she go, though, if she left? Watching Min Acres from high above in the real world differed greatly from having to navigate the neighborhood on foot. As much as she had enjoyed helping Darla build the community, she wasn’t sure if she could find her way around. Besides, who would she go to? Min Aaron? Hell, no! And heaven forbid she interrupt Min Darla!
To her instant relief, however, Min Mark’s face quickly softened and his grin stretched to his ears. “Sray,” he said, and moved closer to take Connie’s hand in a loving gesture. It could only mean yes, to whatever Connie had proposed.
She hoped she had proposed something hot, and when Min Mark leaned forward to brush his soft lips against hers she thanked her muddled memory for picking out the correct words to say.
Min Mark’s kiss felt chaste at first, then ignited with passion as he passed a second time, the tip of his tongue probing the seam of her lips. He moved to embrace her, and Connie responded with an open mouth to accept him completely. Arms wrapped around waists, and a hardening cock pressed against the juncture of her thighs. Tongues mated and explored new territory, and Connie struggled to remain standing straight, as her knees threatened to buckle.
Yes, the Min wanted her. That, she could figure out without talk.
Reluctantly she pulled away, her hand curled in his. “How about that tour?” After a few false starts, opening doors to closets and bathrooms, Connie guided Min Mark into the black-walled play area. She had to bite back a gasp upon flipping the light switch.
The dungeon definitely looked more impressive in person, to say nothing of being fully stocked. The illuminated track lighting lent the room a sensual glow, highlighting the inlaid gold trim of the posters decorating all four walls. From the distance of Darla’s desk the posters were merely shapely figures, undefined and entwined, yet here Connie noted the detail of each picture. Each depicted Min figures in explicit sexual positions, acrobatic endeavors that looked to be painful unless the practitioners were skilled in yoga.
Or, perhaps a turn at the rack to stretch those unused muscles. Connie sauntered toward the imposing device in the middle of the room, running a finger over the raised headrest at one end. On either side of the firm pillow were open cuffs, meant for willing wrists. Oh, the possibilities…
“So,” Connie began, “how about we—”
The rest of her question escaped as a loud whoop as an arm came from behind and wrapped around her waist. Min Mark swept her into the air effortlessly, spinning her half a turn before she landed hard, face down, on the cold, metal tabletop. Her left cheek pressed against the hard pillow.
The speed with which Min Mark negotiated the cuffs on each corner of the table was nothing short of amazing. Connie had to wonder if she had accidentally set Min Mark’s speed higher than the other characters in the game, given how quickly he had her bound.
Tight, too. Connie struggled in her bonds and had no choice to accept that she was immobile, and vulnerable to the Min’s will. Each wrist, each ankle, was cuffed to this unusual pleasure altar, stretching her body into an X.
And yet, she displayed no signs of panic. She couldn’t understand w
hy she felt safe in these bonds, at the mercy of a total stranger. She had no way of knowing if DoMINion had a failsafe, that she wouldn’t really be hurt.
Yet, as she lifted her head to watch Min Mark undress slowly before her, she caught a comforting gleam in his soft, blue eyes, a look that told her she had no cause to worry. His gaze, his confident pace, and the ensuing majestic stance that proudly showcased an incredible body guaranteed her coming pleasure.
“Fackon nin,” he said, his voice suddenly hoarse.
“Yeah, baby.” Fack me six ways from Sunday. She wanted it in every position possible, let the surrounding posters be their guide.
“Minz naha,” he added.
“Oh, yes. Minz me to a puddle.”
But Min Mark shook his head and repeated the words, forcefully this time. “Minz naha!” She was supposed to do something, or say something. She thought that, at least.
“Oh, yes, Master?” Had Connie the power to shrug, she would have done so.
The Min shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut for several seconds in an exaggerated manner. Then Connie understood. She was to be without sight for this session, and Min Mark confirmed this when he used his T-shirt as a makeshift blindfold, apparently not trusting her to keep her eyes closed.
Spicy cologne scented the fabric wrapped around Connie’s head and stung her nostrils, so she tried shallow breaths to keep nausea at bay. The exercise in self-control came in handy when two strong hands seized her waist and tore away Min Connie’s pajama pants. Min Mark must have found a pair of scissors in the room; he sliced the back of the shirt and literally ripped it from her body as well. The soft T-shirt she wore was soon reduced to a useless rag as Connie felt her back exposed to the cool air. She bit back a gasp as the fabric protecting her sensitive nipples from the cold table was taken away.
Her ass and pussy were now exposed to her captor’s desires. The thought both frightened and thrilled her. Her heartbeat remained steady, as did her fingers when she splayed them over the edges of the table. Between her legs, the quivering anticipation was the only sign of her pending excitement; her pussy lips twitched, certainly slick to the touch. The coolness of the windowless room did little to quell the fire raging in her.
What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 9) Page 144
