Part 2: Purple Princess
-------------------------------
Chapter 14: A night at Drax's place
------------------------------
How can I best describe my transformation from being a timid office worker into a raunchy biker chick? Or how that transformation has allowed me to satisfy my wildest dreams?
I suppose it's the name association with the character in my Personality Compatibility Test that persuades me not to flee the moment I first meet Drax. Ever since I was old enough to understand life's dangers, I have always believed that rough looking leather clad bikers wearing gang patches are the sort of guys I should keep well away from. That's sound advice, which I completely ignore on this occasion.
Drax is by no means an angel. However, if you ignore the rough edges in his manner and appearance, he might just qualify as my knight in shining armour. Drax gives me a ride on his motorbike to the flat I share with Michael. As I feared, Michael hasn't returned home after storming off in a rage. We have failed our Personality Compatibility Test, and somehow Michael regards it as entirely my fault because I didn't see the need to take the test in the first place. Michael has driven off with all my money, credit cards, phone and keys in the back of the car. I can't get into our flat, and with only three dollars in my jacket pocket, I am well and truly stuck. Fortunately, Drax comes to my aid a second time. He offers me a couch to crash on at his place for the night. I have no better alternative, so I accept. That's my first dangerous step towards my transformation.
You might think that an attractive twenty-three year old woman in dire straits, placing herself in the hands of a scruffy leather clad biker she's only just met, is an open invitation for a sexual experience that she will soon regret. But I'm desperate, and subconsciously I accept the price I might be expected to pay. But despite everything, Drax doesn't take advantage of my vulnerability.
I'm sure Drax would fuck me if I gave him the slightest encouragement to do so. But despite Michael being an ass, and implying that our relationship is over, I'm not ready to let another man between my legs. That's not to say I can't find plenty of excuses for having sex with Drax. Excuse number one. The PCT test was a wild sexual adventure, albeit one that was entirely in my mind... well, Michael's too. Even though we failed the test, I am still on a high from the mind-blowing experience, and Michael is nowhere around to satisfy the desire in my loins.
The AI-controlled scenario has left me with a strange yearning. Sex with Michael is usually pleasant, but never as intense as what I experienced in the test. Michael and I have experimented with light bondage in our games, but nothing so restricting as my avatar endured during the test. The collar, fetters and chastity belt, coupled with my confinement in a cage, opened my eyes to how far I can go with that sort of treatment without freaking out. In a sense, the brutal treatment freed me from my inhibitions and helped me to understand myself better. I feel empowered, not subjugated. I simply want more of the same. Unfortunately, the test has obviously had the opposite effect on Michael.
Excuse number two. The condom in my pocket. That was a joke present from my friend June when she heard Michael and I were serious about getting married and we were taking the Personality Compatibly Test. She gave it to me "in case you fail the test and you need to get laid". Was that precognition or just a huge coincidence?
In these days of strict population control and compulsory contraception, a condom is only ever used to prevent the spread of sexual diseases when having sex with someone you barely know. Once Drax knew I was carrying a condom he will have immediately assumed that I was open to the prospect of sex. I can't blame him for that impression, and it is to his credit that he hasn't pushed the subject.
Drax's place is a well worn trailer home in an area of town that I've never ventured into before. The place looks as though it has received minimal maintenance over the years. The inside is an even bigger mess. The kitchen sink has at least a week's worth of dirty crockery. The lounge hasn't been cleaned in ages, and the bathroom defies description. The couch I'm offered as a bed is buried under stacks of magazines; mostly motorbike mags, more than a few of which have pictures of naked women flashing their tits. I'd swear one of the semi-naked women is the spitting image of Giada from the PCT scenario. Drax shows no embarrassment at the more explicit porno mags in the stack, not that I would expect him to worry about my sensitivity.
"I didn't think they still published these sorts of mags," I say, trying to make light of a bondage mag picturing a young woman in a high steel collar similar to the one I wore in the PCT scenario. "I thought everyone downloaded this sort of stuff from the internet these days."
"That's true," replies Drax. "That magazine is a classic; published about thirty years ago."
I can't help but notice that despite its age, the magazine is in good condition. Indeed, all of Drax's magazines are in excellent condition. He might let his home go to ruin, but he looks after his mags. Drax removes the magazines and stacks them carefully on the floor. The couch cushions are decorated with numerous stains. It's hardly a welcoming sight, but beggars can't be choosers. At least there are no signs of mice or rats nesting in the couch.
"I'll find you a blanket. You are welcome to take a shower, but be careful the water doesn't overflow. The drain doesn't work very well."
That's probably because the drain is clogged with hairs and other gunk, but I hold back a remark. I make myself as comfortable as I can while Drax prepares us something to eat. It's a surprisingly good meal given the limitations of the messy kitchen. I would offer to wash up afterwards, but given the state of the sink, that would be a much harder task than simply cleaning our own plates and utensils.
Later, Drax disappears into his bedroom at the back while I take a shower. I've no clothing so I'm resigning myself to sleeping in my underwear. However, when I emerge from the bathroom, I find a woman's nightdress laid out on the couch. Drax must have placed it there while I was taking a shower. The nightdress is a lot shorter than the one I normally wear, but it is better than sleeping in my underwear.
Drax is careful to respect my privacy while I'm in a state of undress, which I find considerate, but not entirely necessary. I've slept in communal situations before, albeit never with a rough looking biker. I manage to get some sleep, although the couch is far from ideal.
-------------------------------
Chapter 15: Attempted reconciliation
------------------------------
I finally catch Michael at home the next morning. Drax said he will wait in a nearby cafΓ© for an hour in case there is a problem. Michael's reaction to me is still frosty, and my hope of an early reconciliation is quickly shattered. He doesn't offer an apology for disappearing off with all my stuff, leaving me destitute. Had Drax not helped me, I don't know what I would have done.
I could simply move back in. After all, the flat is my home as well, and I've an equal right to be here. But we only have one bed, and Michael is still being infuriating. I'm not sure I'm ready to sleep next to someone who won't offer an apology for abandoning me like he did yesterday.
"Don't you care what happened to me after you stormed off?" I ask.
"Of course I do. I didn't know all your stuff was in the back of the car. I assumed that you had gone to your parents house when I discovered that you weren't here. I tried ringing your phone but there was no answer."
"My parents are overseas at the moment, remember? Besides, I did come home, but you weren't here. Without my key I couldn't get in. I couldn't be sure whether you would return, and sleeping in the corridor didn't appeal. Where were you anyway?"