SR Gorski

în céleste

Geoff holds a large pair of VR goggles gingerly up to his webcam for his sister to see.

“You’re going to br…” She coughs up some latte in quick moment of realization before regaining herself. “You’re going to break those, Geoffrey.”

Cass always chides him like this whenever they Skype, like a maternal judge raining criticism on his every decision.

“They’re solid, like way sturdier than they look,” he says, ignoring the passive aggressive jab and removing the goggles from his webcam’s view.

Geoff has no RL friends to share his purchase with, so he pathetically called his sister, although he can’t be 100% honest about the buy. The Heavenly Body™ VR headset cost over 2 months’ of his shitty temp salary, its package including a 3D panoramic visor plus a haptic feedback suit and a ton of other gear. It can be used to play games, meet people, or explore virtual landscapes.

Geoff plans to use it for one very important thing.

After their chat, Geoff looks at his open door and decides to quickly masturbate without closing it even though his roommate is probably home. He regrets showing off his rig—Cass only saw the goggles, so she doesn’t know about the rest of the gear. The collection of wires and tech are all splayed out over his bare mattress.

He’s going to use it to rid himself of his abhorrent virginity.

He realizes it’ll only be sensors reading pantomimed actions—electrical equipment and lubricated polycarbonate, not human flesh. But when girls cringe at the sight of you, like they have Geoff’s whole life, certain exceptions must be made. The guys on the image board will love hearing about how much he spent on what is essentially a souped-up, peer-to-peer fleshlight.


“He’s such a fucking idiot if he thinks I don’t know what that goes to,” Cass thinks aloud as she spins in her computer chair—he never calls unless he needs affirmation.

And since he doesn’t live with mommy anymore, he resorts to calling Cass, playing it off like he doesn’t need her approval. She knows what line of gear that VR headset is offered with. They don’t sell that series individually, it comes with a haptic response suit and a bunch of other expensive gear. Hers is a little older but works just the same. It can do stuff like transfer soft touching, hard pressure, and even wetness/airflow from one suit to another, once properly synced.

Cass knows exactly what her brother is up to because she dons a digital visage almost every night herself, playing out other high-end perverted fantasies. She’s an e-hooker, so she doesn’t judge. She really can’t, because at this point nothing surprises her. Cass has come to realize that people’s sordid tastes haven’t evolved much over time—they have just been consumerized, made more accessible by technology. She has gotten used to dissociating herself from her job’s inherent repulsiveness. Customers visiting the Cumquad often have faith-questioning demands. Her last John had her crushing the life out of digital puppies and kittens in 6-inch stilettos while in full latex, all legal of course because it wasn’t real, even though it often felt real enough.

She jokes with herself about putting acting credentials on her CV if she ever applies for a real job.


Earlier in the day, Geoff loaded a pic of his rig onto the forum for the guys to see. Alongside the pictures, its features were listed:

– microcomputer control unit
– mesh sensor vest exo-skin and arm units/gloves
– 120 self-adhesive haptic/tactile pads
male/female genital transduction actuator with bottle of water-based lubricant
– panoramic visor/facemask with polymer gel

He posts: “This is it, fags. The only way for me to lose my fucking V before I end it lul. Gonna slay some e-thots, my way—what better way to spend my Friday night?”

Geoff quickly breezes through instructions, attaching pieces of equipment where they look like they should go. In a rush of adrenaline, he clears an area of space for his soon-to-be-virtual movements, kicking aside empty energy drink cans, unrefilled epilepsy script bottles, clothes that would never be washed.


It is Friday night, so Cass pushes her chair across her studio apartment’s wood-finished floor and breaks out her own VR gear. The cramped room essentially orbits around this one 10 x 10 area in front of her computer—no roommates, barely any furniture, no obstacles, no problem.

The weekends are usually busy at Cass’s club, the Cumquad. It’s membership only, so she never really has to worry about the quality of customers, just the requests. Roleplay spans from harmless stuff like pay-pig fantasies to pretty traumatizing demands… like childplay, violence, and other unpleasantries.


Geoff’s “best friend,” who he met back when Silk Road was still up, sent him a celebratory gift after Geoff posted his VR pictures. “Have fun” is all it said. Geoff opens it up:

>Indiscernible programming language

>Html garble, java script, trash

>Scrolling down, some words and information—a bio

>A guy’s credit card information and personal address

>Next is active login information for various websites

>One stands out: Cumquad, some high-end cyber brothel, and username: Daddy1029

>Finally, a picture of the guy’s obituary and a “=]”

Geoff probably has one night to use this.


After making dinner, Cass signs on Cumquad early with the intent of landing a big fish. Most of the girls at Cumquad have regulars just like any brothel, but if someone snags your John because you geared up late, then it’s tough shit. She can look like anyone or anything, whatever the guest requests. Nevertheless, she dons her favorite avatar, a relatively similar version of herself—give or take a bra size and nose hump—and joins a Special Request Server.

She checks in with a server moderator for the OK to go Live. She then double-checks biometrics… integrated feedback looking good—depending on who she gets, she can do different things or limit herself to the customer’s suit restrictions. She could also turn off or lower her suit’s responses if the John creeps her out. She leaves them on for now; tonight feels like a lucky night. Her system is in the green and she can feel her pussy swell in anticipation for her vaginal actuator… if it comes to that.

She hopes it does.


>Daddy1029 joins the Green Room

>Cass’s Cumquad username, Celeste, floats over her avatar

>She gives the OK to her Mod

>The John is approved and enters

>A man in his mid-50’s, aged but fit, grey hair—not unrealistically representative but obviously altered

>Geoff begins to speak: “…”

>Cass shushes off by running a heurism diagnostic, a.k.a. the touch-and-feel test

>She grabs his crotch, checking for a response, he sucks in air fast and holds his breath

>“OK Daddy, it looks like you are all rigged up for me—you can have whatever you want tonight…”


Cass feels for her actuator toggle and flips it on. She braces herself for the test insertion—the modestly sized dildo has been the only action she’s gotten in a while. E-girls don’t get out much; she lost her virginity to her first boyfriend and discovered the Cumquad not long after they broke up.

The lubed-up silicone phallus is ironically named after him.


The reality of Geoff’s situation sinks in as his suit responds to every brush, squeeze, and breath. She hasn’t even started anything serious, and he already feels the levy gates in his nuts begin to weaken. He wants to make a sick joke about Hurricane Katrina but cannot blow his cover. Geoff cannot shake the overwhelming urge to expose her, reveal his true identity, and make this dumb bitch admit she would never sleep with any decent guy who wasn’t some gym fuck-boy Chad or a cuck pay-pig.

He bears the jaw-clenching temptation. He at least has to do the deed, so the fags on his board will stop calling him Virgin Immobile.


Cass purrs seductively: “I’m so wet for you right now…”

She stripteases him, undressing down to her virtual bra and thong. Her suit, gloves, and haptic pads respond to where his virtual body is. They even give an indication of the kind of clothing his avatar is wearing. Cass rubs her ass against his bulge, noting that he hasn’t supersized his dick, like some assholes do to overcompensate.


Goeff finally musters the balls to blurt out: “Get on all fours for me”

An odd starter request, but Cass knows not to raise a fuss over a high roller’s lack of decorum. Their kind tips in quantities of monthly rent. And she knows he is ready.


Geoff knows not only what he wants to do, but what he has to do. He’s going to blow this stupid e-thot’s spot up and revel in her helplessness. He’s going to have his cake and eat it too. She had gotten him going for sure—but he could hold on a little longer—the sensation of his suit’s phallic actuator is as good as it will ever get for him. Celeste clearly knew how to tease him, but his mission was true and manifold. He wasn’t going to bust an early nut, like a chump, without giving this whore what she deserves.


Cass bends on all fours, removing her virtual thong—revealing to Geoff a juicy, engorged, and entirely convincing simulacrum; a reddened reminder of what he would never get to  experience IRL.

Geoff makes the motion to pull down his white boxer briefs—revealing a below-average penis, his “true” dick. He would never digitally alter his body for some e-thot; he’d make her deal with him as he truly was.


>Without a slap, tickle, or tease, he thrusts himself hard into her

>She had been ready for it, but “Damn, fuck baby, easy”

>“Yeah? You like that, you fuckin whore?”

>“Easy Daddy, let’s make this good for both of us”

>Geoff doesn’t let up, hammering himself into her ass as his suit simulates the savagery

>The pressure is overwhelming—Cass’s suit has safety measures, but she just can’t take the violence any longer

>She flips the suit off

>“What the fuck dude”


Just as Geoff’s about to come, he abruptly loses sensation. His cock withers within the suit’s genital actuator, sending him into paroxysms of impotent rage.

>Daddy1029 attempts to sign off

>Attempt failed

He was hasty in prepping his equipment and hadn’t looked up the instructions for this particular contingency.

He reaches for his visor to manually exit the simulated sex scene, but it is then that he notices something about Celeste he hadn’t seen before.

Her face is that of his sister’s.


“You fucking idiot!”

Disgust and rage fill Cass’s heart as she stares back at her brother’s state of disbelief. Yet, she feels no disbelief of her own. She’s known all about Geoff’s sad habits all along, but this pathetic attempt to humiliate a stranger—to exact some sort of anonymous power—made her sick.

She’d been through much worse than this at the hands of men she actually allowed herself to endure. Somehow the impotence of his anger and words made her feel something past resentment, past wanting to teach him a lesson. He had no clue how the benefits of this virtual environment could be turned against him.

Cass lived and breathed this world.

She could craft pain where there was meant to be pleasure.

And that’s just what she’d do.


“This can’t be real! How do you know her? How do you know me..?”

Before any more mental cogs can lick, the naked girl before Geoff begins to writhe, glow, then grow.

A tumescent mass of regolith-hued organs, tentacles, and muck envelopes him.

Overwhelmed by his senses, he fails to remove his gear in time. The overstimulation triggers an electrical storm in his cortex.

Geoff collapses into a wiry heap. His visor comes unplugged with his body’s violent convulsions. Staring into black, his half-conscious brain registers faraway emotions like disbelief, anger, and especially hate.

Pressure sensors still active, his body is enveloped by an overwhelming digital horror. Foam leaks from the corners of his mouth as his eyes roll back into his head, and then there is only numb.

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