Neurofucer

Five — Dance Of The Seven Rosies

Cold, pale, green eyes shone deep into my soul, freezing me like a rabbit in headlights. The lids and upper cheeks glittered with the same shade of green, as if the irises had fractured into tiny fragments and spilled onto the surrounding pallid skin. The lips shone as two slivers of copper, so long as to almost divide the jaw from the rest of the face above, producing a predatory rictus. The cheek bones were sharp as razors, the cheeks shadowy as caves. The long canines sat sheathed behind a thin layer of skin, betrayed by two slight bulges in the lips. A high collar sat on the thin shoulders like a black setting sun. The jade throne upon which the man sat was a sphere with a deep chunk excavated for a seat. A faint hoop hovered in the air around the throne, harmlessly entering and exiting the bodies of the cadaverous attendants, as if marking a boundary which only the most select could cross. Spherical satellites of a similar incorporeality floated in the air around the throne. The throne sat in the centre of a broad, ebony, circular stage beyond which everything was now a silent, empty black void. The rest of the lounge, the music and the crowd seemed to have been deleted. Thus sat Royce Tyranny in the centre of his dominion, Uranus, and all its attendant moons, floating in infinite blackness.

Mary, Beau and I had been commanded by an acolyte to kneel at the rim of the stage. Beau and I had immediately objected and had only complied due to Mary's initially baffling but eventually persuasive cajolery, not to mention the black looks the men were giving us. It was clear Beau's website had been thoroughly hacked and usurped by this menacing individual. Yet it had been Beau who had allowed us to fall into his hands. Once again I cursed him and the trust I had placed in him.

We had squeezed our way through the dancing throng to the stage with Beau leading the way. Our progress was slow, but he was clearly determined to pursue this course of action. By the time we reached the stage Tyranny had taken his seat and was talking with the nearest of his acolytes. The crowd thinned considerably the closer we reached the platform. An invisible barrier kept the crowd clear of the steps and it appeared that Tyranny was not about to be mobbed or faced with a crowd of petitioners. Our mere appearance at the steps was enough to draw the gaze of thirteen pairs of eyes from around the throne. Tyranny stretched out his right hand, nodded slightly and beckoned with his claws.

The moment we ascended the steps the lounge had vanished into silence and darkness, leaving us alone with the sinister men.

"Hey up!" piped Beau, his high voice taking an age to die in the huge space around us.

I groaned inwardly. The nearest of the acolytes rose quickly in a rage, but were stayed by a placatory gesture from Tyranny's talons.

"It's alright, Judy, and you, Liza," purred Tyranny to the angry young men. "No need for the pulveriser. These people are strangers here. On that we must be clear."

"Excuse me!" exclaimed Beau indignantly, "you're the strangers here. I made this website."

This time Judy and Liza had to be restrained by Tyranny who extended his arm to an extraordinary length and, without even rising from the throne, seized his men with the unfeasibly long limb and forced them back to their positions. The arm shrank back to its original size.

Tyranny coughed, then said with a curl of his lips, "I think you may find things have changed here a bit since you wrote that rather," he stroked his chin with the gloved hand, "basic software shit."

The men sniggered and appeared to relax at this.

I was determined that Beau should not antagonise this egomaniac any further and said, "We were wondering, Lord Tyranny of Uranus, as you are so powerful and all knowing, if you could help us."

Maybe I imagined it, but as the cold eyes turned to me, I seemed to detect a slight thaw. He raised a hairless brow inquiringly.

"Yes," I continued nervously, "we appear to be trapped in the Net and have no way of tapping ourselves out."

I had decided there was no need to divulge Mary's true nature, that she was not a user's avatar, and I still suspected Beau was not being entirely honest with me there.

"We've now been stuck in Cyberspace for a day least. My body must be wandering about 'cause I only took one hypnozap and it's probably soiled itself too."

The men shifted uneasily at his unpleasant detail.

"I'm sorry to be indelicate, my Lord," I continued, though I was hardly sorry, "but it's dangerous to be online for such an extended time, as I'm sure you know, my Lord."

Tyranny had appeared to be in a trance during my little speech. I became aware that I did not have his full attention. He was conversing with something hidden in the folds of his coat. I saw tiny, pudgy hands poke over the collar and fold it back to reveal a wrinkled homunculus resembling a bulbous, yellow vegetable with long black, straggly roots for hair. Its pudgy face was grotesquely toad like and its body appeared to be naked save a crucifix hung around its neck that covered its chest. It sat comfortably on Tyranny's lap, finished whispering to him and regarded us with wise contempt while playing with the crucifix. Tyranny winced at this, clearly revolted by the sight, and, taking the hint, it hid the icon in his pocket, laughing silently to itself. I dreaded to think what kind of perverse, sexual, symbiotic relationship these two shared. After a long pause Royce's thin frame shook barely perceptibly, shaking himself from the trance.

He said, "Indeed, Ian, as Madame Prence here tells me you are called, a Saint Lucian."

I tried to conceal the fear and indignation I felt by this open admission that Tyranny was using this creature to collect my private data. The creature cackled and whispered some more in his ear.

"Bodies need to be managed or they'll be damaged, eh?" said Tyranny and turned to his men who all nodded vigorously. "Oh yes, I know how it is with the physical. A lapse in bodily care would be inadmissible. Damned nuisance, but no excuse for insouciance." He folded his long hands and sympathised, "Dear, dear, dear, you do make me shed a tear," though his eyes remained dry.

I nodded, gulped and ventured, "So, can you help, my Lord?"

There was another long pause as we listened to my 'or' syllable drift into the distance. Tyranny drew a deep breath. Madame Prence burbled something that sounded like an electronic radio station jammer. Her right arm was visible, though it was little more than a stump, while the left was hidden amongst Tyranny's clothing. I had the strangest impression that she was doing more than merely advising him.

"The three of you have been stirring up the rabble, or so my gossips babble," said Tyranny.

He was clearly not a man to commit himself to anything quickly.

After some whoops and whistles from his pet he continued, "This parody of the Blessed Virgin, so called," he snorted dismissively at Mary, "was bound to leave some users rather galled. Tell me, er," he consulted the gibbering parsnip for second, "'Beau', what consequences could you possibly expect after your little stunt in the church at quaintvillage.com a few hours ago?"

I heard thumping sounds behind me and twisted around to see Rosie, still naked apart from the glitter, banging on an invisible barrier at the foot of the steps. She pushed her body against the smooth surface, squeezing her giant boobs until they were like two huge fried eggs covering her torso. She licked the 'glass', humped her hips against it, and stared at me lustfully. I could hardly help breaking into a smile, to which she grinned and girned while clawing frantically at the barrier in pretend helplessness. Behind her the bar of Royce's was still black and silent, yet this woman seemed to be finding a way to penetrate the stage's Stygian seclusion. Lord Tyranny's face darkened considerably at the sight of Rosie and he conferred in heated whispers with Prence and with his men.

I was anxious to continue the discussion so, tearing my gaze away from Rosie for a moment, I again asked the Lord of Uranus, or whoever he was, if he would unhack our software, or whatever was needed, to allow us to return to our bodies. Madame Prence, with sphinx like inscrutability, emitted a bark followed by a whine that brought Hendrix's burning guitar to mind.

Tyranny flashed his gold fangs, spread his long arms wide and said almost beatifically, "Stay good friends. Your enjoyment shall be by end. I shall do all I can to," upon which he was interrupted by renewed bangs from Rosie, followed by an almighty crash.

Beau, Mary and I jumped forwards, away from a sound like shattering glass. Somehow Rosie had smashed the barrier with her fist and had opened up a hole. The sound of music and shouting accompanied by flashing lights burst though the hole. Then cracks radiated out, as if the air was fracturing, quickly lengthened and multiplied into a baroque network of fine lines. Rosie exchanged looks with me, mine of concern and her's of mock terror. A million glittering splinters came crashing down around her. She stood in the middle of the shower, bent with her arms over her head, until the last of the shards had fallen. To our amazement she seemed completely unharmed by the sharp, shiny fragments which now covered the steps all around the stage. Her bare feet received no cuts as she mounted the steps, bottle in hand. All around us the people danced and drank as before, but were now giving the stage an even wider berth than before.

Rosie looked the men up and down, swigged from the bottle, licked her lips, belched and said, "Cor, fucking hell! Did someone die here, or something? It's blacker than my dog's arse around here!"

Judy and Liza were the first to lunge at her, but again they were restrained by the long arm of their lawgiver.

Rosie, completely undaunted, went straight up to the throne, chucked the Lord of Uranus under the chin and said, "Y'alright, Royce, my old mucker, eh? Still King of my Rear End, eh?"

It was only then she appeared to notice the tiny figure of Madame Prence and she started slightly at the hideous sight before ruffling the creature's dry hair affectionately. Royce Tyranny seemed willing, though far from happy, to endure this humiliation at the hands of a pole dancer. I was astonished at this affront to a man whom everyone else respected, if not feared. He and his men were fuming, but remained motionless.

Rosie turned back to me and my companions, said, poking a thumb at Royce over shoulder, "Don't worry about him. I've got him taped alright. Let's leave him to ponce about some more for a bit, eh?"

The three of us followed her slowly, gauging Royce's reactions. With all his rage centred on Rosie he failed to notice us as we edged away to the steps.

Above the music I shouted to Royce and his pet, "So you can help us, yes?"

They turned back to me and nodded in perfect synchronisation. Rosie led the three of us back down the steps and towards one of the adjacent rooms we had yet to see. I looked back to the stage where Royce was still nodding in our direction, then I exchanged looks of profound relief with Beau. I could hardly believe we had escaped that fascist with such apparent ease.

"So what was all that about?" I asked Rosie as we walked.

She laughed and said, "I've got some super dooper virus and spyware protection he don't know about, that's all."

"Well, whatever it was," I said, "we owe you one."

"I'll remember that," she said and winked.

"Do you think we can trust that weirdo?" I asked Beau.

"I think we might not have a choice," he answered pessimistically. "I can't think of a way out of here without looking to someone like him for help."

I considered something Beau had told me before our audience with Lord Tyranny and I regarded Mary who seemed as distracted and girlishly happy as ever.

"So Mary's prayers finally worked, huh?"

He frowned.

"I'm not falling for that line about her being just software again, Beau."

"She is just software!" he insisted.

I sighed and strode after Rosie, but was stayed by Beau tugging at my arm.

"Listen, Ian!"

I stopped and regarded my friend critically. There was sadness in his big eyes as he realised he had lost my trust.

"I stored some extra protection software in her files."

I rolled my eyes.

"She's very sophisticated, Ian. I gave her extra programs so that, if my avatar got hacked, I'd be able to use her instead."

That made me pause to consider. Mary was flirting with some bipedal feline creature that shared the same unnatural allure as the fuck bunnies. She took its paw and led it over to where I stood with Beau. I had noticed a strange vacancy on her face that suggested a certain kind of detachment or intellectual deficiency. She seemed amazingly unconcerned about our predicament.

"Commodo opportunus meus parum amicus," she said, indicating her new friend.

"Me sex kitten," it meowed, baring its fangs. "Me like to fuckyfuck you all for half price. Big discount for parties of four!"

This little speech was interspersed with purrs. It was enjoying Mary's tickles and strokes and its tail stood erect. It rubbed itself against her as if asking to be fed. It's body was curved like a beautiful girl's.

I've really been online too long, I thought.

Returning my attention to Beau I felt momentarily lost for words.

"OK, maybe you're right," I said eventually, "I don't know," and hurried after Rosie. "I guess I do trust you, Beau," I said as we walked. "Not knowing the first thing about computers I don't really have a choice, do I?"

Beau looked sad, so I put my arm around his soft, small body.

"I'm glad you're back," I said cuddling him. "I didn't like McGrumpy anymore than you," he beamed.

Rosie's long legs had carried her far ahead, through an archway to a chamber even larger than the lounge. It was circular, domed, and seemed to house some kind of swimming pool, though the liquid the people were swimming in was far thicker and cloudier than water. Everyone appeared to be naked. Men, women and various entities were fucking with a frenzied passion all around the pool's edge, but what caught my interest in particular was that many people, when reaching the point of ejaculation, would stand over the pool and add their fuck milk to the heaving mass of it apparently already deep enough for people to dive into from some very high boards. Girls screamed with delight as they sported in the water with balls and phallic inflatable dinghies. The atmosphere here was slightly cooler and more relaxed than in the lounge and it helped to soothe my jangled nerves.

Rosie was already sat at a tropical beach style bar. She waved to us and also to an aproned fuck bunny who eagerly hopped over to her. We sat and let Rosie order for the five of us as the sex kitten seemed to have attached itself firmly to Mary. Our pole dancing friend ordered three Bukkake Bath cocktails, so appropriately named, for herself, Beau and I, a Fast Frenzied Fuck for Mary and a bowl of cream for the cat.

The antics in the pool reminded me that it was now a few hours since I had last had sex. As we sipped our cocktails which Rosie very kindly paid for, I became increasingly horny. In particular the sight of her breasts floating between us offered a much needed distraction from my worries over my inability to exit.

"So what's your relationship with Royce, exactly?" I asked her chest.

She sniggered.

"I just give him a private show sometimes."

She slurped on her straw while I considered this.

"That's it?" I asked, surprised. "He's that soft?"

She smacked her lips.

"He'd do anything for me."

"It must be quite a show you give him."

"The best!" With her arms folded and her legs crossed she looked at me with amusement and asked, "Want to see for yourself, mate?"

I choked on my drink.

"You bet!" I spluttered.

"It'll cost you, but judging by that bulge in your trousers I think you've got what it takes."

I looked at my friends. Mary had the sex kitten on her lap and looked just about ready to fuck it where she sat. Beau was playing with the assorted accoutrements in his glass.

"Can Beau join us?" I asked Rosie.

"Absofandango!" she said after downing her drink swiftly.

She stood and led Beau and I around a gauzy curtain to a small unoccupied room with pink round sofas and chairs arranged in a circle. On a table behind one of the chairs lay a couple of pink spongy objects that resembled soft dildos.

Rosie picked up one and said to it, "Aah, no one to play with you, darling?"

Scrotum hung pendulously from the cock which was designed to look completely realistic. Rosie stroked it and it began to pulse and grow in her hand.

She giggled and said, "Somewhere some guy's getting off on this."

I gawped.

"You mean that's an avatar? Just of someone's cock and balls?"

She lifted the other and tossed it to me, but it was intercepted by Beau. The thing immediately started to become engorged as he played with it. He lifted it to his mouth and sucked the tip.

"This is cute!" he declared.

Beau and I sat together on the sofa and we took turns to stimulate it. Rosie was tossing hers in the air, flipping it around, casually catching it, swinging it around her back and throwing it in the air again. The penis was rock hard and its precum was flying everywhere. She used it like a majorette's baton, spinning it crazily, using the weight of the scrotum to swing it high above her head.

Beau passed his to me and I began wanking it. It was hot and hard. I kissed the head, then sucked it down to the balls. It felt completely real, twitching against the back of my throat. I sat it on the sofa between us so that Beau could massage the balls and rub the cock around its base while I sucked on the glans. We sucked and rubbed vigorously, enjoying its responses to each little touch of our fingers and tongues.

"It's about to cum!" said Beau excitedly, tightening his grip on the scrotum.

Cum was catapulted all over our faces. Beau bent to suck it dry while I kneaded the balls. He drank all it had to give until it had returned to its original softness. We kissed and licked the cum from each other's faces.

Meanwhile Rosie was enjoying herself with the other set. She was passing it between her legs and letting it tumble through the air. Then, as she tried to catch it again, the cock struck her cheek with a loud thwack. She scowled, dropped it to her foot and kicked it so hard that it flew over Beau's head and hit the wall behind us. It stuck there for a moment, glued to the surface with its precum, then slithered to the floor in a limp, pathetic heap. "Fucking hate those things!" she said in a huff. "Hey, am I still here, or what?"

Beau and I had become somewhat carried away by the taste of the cum on our faces and were kissing each other with open wantonness. We broke off in deference to our host, but continued gazing at each other. I was now desperate to fuck him again and to show how much I appreciated him in spite of our disagreements.

Rosie was holding out her hand. I dug around in my pocket, pulled out a handful of Uranian cash and placed the coins in her palm which she then clapped to her mouth. Her jaw soon ground them smooth enough to swallow. She twitched her nose at me critically, so I felt around for some more. She seemed satisfied with the second helping which she also ate with relish. She then straightened with her hands clasped high, fixed us with a heavy lidded gaze and wiggled her ears. Mellow music with a sexy, ethnic beat started pulsing from an unseen source. Beau and I sat back for what we knew was going to be quite a show.