The Courier

Author's Note: This is a work of fiction, exploring taboo fantasies, not an endorsement of behavior, sexual or otherwise, in real life. Remember: Keep it Safe, Sane, and Consensual!

----

The street flickered under a cacophonous array of multicolored light. Half burnt-out street lamps competed with gaudy LED signs and rapidly moving light projections for the passerby's attention. For their part, most people did their best to keep their gaze low, lest they risk tripping over a vagrant or look the wrong person in the eye. One person in particular was doing her best to stay in whatever shadows she could find, a skill she had practiced all her life.

Sheri ducked behind the much-abused mailbox, glancing over her shoulder, a mis-matched set of brown and green eyes watching warily. No sign of a tail. She just had to make it to the hotel and she could drop off the package and collect her pay. Looking up the street towards her destination, her view flickered as her green cybernetic eye filtered the image, picking out the infrared images of the vagrants, drug dealers, pimps, whores, and drunkards going about their evening. The coast looked clear.

She slipped out from behind the mailbox, moving to cut through the abandoned church, the only dark building on the block. As she slipped past a statue of Mary and squeezed through the ajar front door, she considered the possibility that this would be the perfect place to get ambushed. The antechamber was dark, littered with garbage and bedding from when vagrants used it for shelter from the elements.

She continued through the next set of doors into the sanctuary. If anything, this place was even darker than the antechamber, isolated from the street's noisy lights. The heads-up display built into her optic implant informed her that there was no wireless signal in here. No cellular, no WiFi, not even FM radio. This place was a dead zone, and she'd have no way to call for help if she ran into trouble. She dimly wondered if the church's architecture naturally blocked all signals, or if a priest had fitted it with a faraday cage to keep people from surfing the net during Mass.

She quietly creeped through the cavernous room, the once-orderly pews scattered in disarray, splintered and faded with upholstery torn from years of casual misuse. The floor was littered with books, full of prayer and joyful song and verses that few bothered to read aloud any more. Sheri spun on her heel as something crashed behind her, before realizing it was just a cat hopping down from its perch atop a pew to consider this intruder.

Taking a moment to let her heart settle back into her chest, Sheri creeped out the back door, finding herself in the alleyway between the church and the hotel. Slowly she creeped up the alleyway and found the service entrance to the hotel propped open for her. She slipped inside, finding herself in a small room with stacks of torn-down cardboard boxes and tied-off trash bags waiting to be taken out. She found it a bit odd that the staff of even a run-down love hotel like this would let it pile up.

She realized with a start that she still wasn't getting any wireless signal, and that she hadn't since she entered the church.

Shit.

Sheri felt more than heard a movement behind her, just a heartbeat too late. She felt something attach to the base of her skull and her vision went blank, her muscles stiffening despite her desperate attempts to move, to fight, to run, to do anything.

With a flicker, she found herself in one of the love hotel's cramped, musty rooms. This had been far too quick for her to have been moved. Disoriented, she turned to leave, only to find the hotel room had no door. Suddenly a voice spoke, as if it were in her head.

So this is the courier that Jack's gang sent. I expected better from one of his runners than this.

Sheri turned around, trying to find the speaker, but she was the only one in the room. A pair of hands grabbed her arms and pinned them behind her. She flailed wildly, hoping to get an arm free.

If I can just lay a hand on him, I can drop him with the stun knuckles...

The mystery man was stronger than her, but Sheri was almost inhumanly flexible, the benefits of childhood gymnastics lessons, from when she lived a better life. Contorting around in his grip, she slammed her fist into his gut, and two things happened:

First, she realized with a start that she didn't have any stun knuckles, or any other enhancements.

Second, her attacker was nowhere to be found. At least, not until he grabbed her by the hair and threw her backwards onto the bed. She brought up her legs and caught him as he tried to leap on her, sending him flying backwards, crashing onto the floor. As he rose to his feet, Sheri saw he was far too big to have been hiding in the small room. And only now she began to realize where she was.

"I see you've figured it out. This is all a simulation. You're trapped in your own head while I work on cracking your implant's firewall. The name's Caleb. I'm going to get that information you're carrying in that pretty little head of yours, and then I'm going to make some improvements."

He watched with sadistic glee as the petite Korean girl figured out what he meant, her brown eyes going wide with fear as she sized him up and realized her poor odds. She jumped off the bed as he lunged after her, narrowly avoiding his grip. Lacking any of her implants or weapons, she grabbed the lamp from the bedside table and threw it at him, only for him to dismissively knock the lamp aside with one hand. She tried for another powerful kick, but he caught her foot before it connected and dragged her off balance, throwing her back onto the bed.

Before she could react, he had ripped her threadbare shirt apart. She brought her arms back, instinctively trying to cover herself, and he used that as an opening to grab her wrists, pinning them together in one powerful hand as he drove his other hand under her waistband. She kicked wildly with her legs, but he was too close for her to get a good angle on him. He forced her arms up over her head, exposing her breasts as her body twisted and contorted, trying to free herself from his assault. As his fingers roughly worked their way into her womanhood, Sheri gasped as she was suddenly hit by a wave of pleasure.

Caleb grinned. He could tell her defenses were beginning to fail. Sometimes these simulations took the form of a fist fight in a dojo. Sometimes they were saber duels. Caleb... had his own preferences, especially when dealing with pretty young women like Sheri who thought they were street smart.

As her firewall and defensive subroutines were broken down, his attack codes wormed their way unhindered into her brain implant. Line by line, his code rearranged the impulses in her brain, reprogramming it as if it were a piece of hardware. She could feel it happening even as she felt his invading fingers getting coated in her juices against her will.

"Stop! Let me go! Don't do this to me! I'll do anything!"

Already Sheri was pleading with him, hoping to appeal to whatever better nature he had. Unfortunately for her, Caleb had no better nature, and he was enjoying his work as he leaned down to lick and bite her hardening nipples, listening to her involuntary moan as he flicked his tongue across one and then the other, causing her to arch her back. He dragged her shorts down and off of her legs, which she could only feebly squeeze together as a last defense.

This far into the attack, Sheri was exhausted, and Caleb easily forced her legs apart, pulling out his hard cock and teasing it against her clit, laughing as her body spasmed and a throaty gasp escaped her lips. Her body was soaked in sweat as he gently ground his manhood up and down on her, eliciting groans and gasps and pleas for mercy. Her face was flushed, her mind a mix of conflicting emotions, and her eyes rolled up in her head as a long groan released from her lips as Caleb thrust forward into her.

He released her hands and grabbed her slender hips, sawing in and out of her as her arms feebly pressed against his chest. Soon they fell limply to her side and she moaned with each thrust, too exhausted to fight and enjoying it more than she cared for. As his attacks continued their takeover of her brain, her arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, her fingernails digging into him as he worked her harder and harder, thrusting deep and fast with every stroke. Soon her cries were not for mercy but for release, as she felt herself get closer and closer to climax despite herself.

With a high pitched cry her body went rigid, shaking as an orgasm overtook her mind and body. Caleb hit his peak at the same time, groaning as his release flowed into Sheri.

Sheri's vision came back, her body collapsing to the floor amidst trash bags and cardboard boxes, trying to catch her breath. She slowly looked up with her mismatched eyes and saw Caleb holding the neural interface that he had just removed from the back of her head. As soon as she recognized him, a warm smile spread across Sheri's face.

"Sheri, you belong to me now. Let's go back to my place and have a look at that data you were supposed to deliver, and then we'll talk all about your friends in Jack's gang."