Jackson Miller leans forward across his desk and smiles his most reassuring smile, trying to get his guest to talk. “We will need to know your fantasies, Brandon. Your wildest fantasy, ideally, but at the very least a scenario that you want to see realised.”
The kid – late teens, probably, 20 at a push – looks embarrassed.
“There is nothing Dr Alexander and I haven’t heard yet, I can assure you,” Jackson says in a soothing tone. “And there is almost nothing that we won’t be able to make happen for you.”
“Just tell us,” I add. “Everything is fully confidential.”
Although I am just an observer, they kitted me out in a borrowed white coat – company logo on the chest, someone else’s name stitched below. This week, I am going to be ‘Dr Fraser Alexander’ apparently. I feel that that has given me the power to get involved in reassuring the lad, but Jackson gives me a sharp look telling me to stay out of his chat.
“We can’t fulfil your dreams if we don’t know them …”
“What I really want, Dr Miller, is a gang-rape …” Brandon finally starts a whispered explanation. “A dozen guys, my age roughly, who ambush me and drag me into their hangout. They are from a mix of races, but all gorgeous athletic jocks, and they are all hung … I want dicks ranging in size from ‘horse-cock’ to ‘freak-of-nature'. Once in their cellar, they will force themselves on me, repeatedly: in my arse, in my mouth, apart or simultaneously.” The kid’s voice has gained confidence, the story coming faster now. “They don’t hurt me, except by fucking me with their huge cocks. They never seem to get enough of me, and I am never not being fucked in at least one hole. They ambush me on Friday evening, and they abuse me all through the weekend, day and night. By the time I get freed on Sunday evening, each of them will have left at least 10 loads inside me … more probably.”
If Jackson is as astonished as I am by that fantasy, he is hiding it well. His fingers are darting across the keyboard, his face is neutral, as if the lad just ordered a 10-minute romp with a plain-looking girl in the missionary position.
“All that is eminently possible, Brandon. Mind though, that the scenarios play out in real-time, of course, so if your fantasy is for a 48-hour duration, you will be in The Experience for that amount of time … we charge by the hour …”
“Money is no issue,” the lad’s attitude changes as he says it, suddenly certain of his status again. “I have a trust fund, and this won’t make even a ripple on the surface of it.”
Jackson checks his computer screen. “Brandon Hawthorne … Not related to the computer chip manufacturer, are you?”
“My Grandfather started the company …”
“In that case, we are delighted to entertain you. In a way, your family will have made The Experience possible. One last question … Do you want a safe word? An unusual phrase that you can use to shut down the program and return you to real life?”
He thinks for a few moments. “No … No, that would spoil the event. In reality I wouldn’t be able to stop them raping me, so I don’t want it in virtual reality either.”
“As you wish … Dr Alexander will accompany you to the changing room, where our technicians will help you prepare. I will put the finishing touches to the scenario … It only remains for me to wish you an exciting time, and we will see you in just over 2 days.”
“This, Richard, is The Experience!”
Jackson gestures grandly towards an uninspiring box of about 12x6x6 feet, mounted on heavy-duty hydraulic arms. It is sitting upright in the middle of an industrial-looking space.
“The client is suspended in the centre of the simulator box, wearing VR goggles and earphones, of course. The simulator will take on the aspect that corresponds to the client’s pose in the metaverse, so Brandon is probably standing up in the scenario at the moment.”
“Can I see what he looks like inside there?”
I am just following my host to a bank of large computer screens, when the box suddenly and violently rotates to a horizontal position.
“It seems that our ‘victim’ has been thrown to the ground, or pushed onto a bed, perhaps – he is lying face down, so I suspect that he is about to get the first taste of that gangbang that he was longing for.”
A light tap on the left-most of the screens switches it on, giving me a view of the inside of the box. Brandon, face down on a padded surface, is covered from head to toe in Lycra, just his crotch and his mouth visible. Hydraulic arms grab his legs and begin to pull them apart, another arm pushes down on his shoulders.
“It seems we’ve timed our arrival well … To Brandon, it will be the hands of an assailant on his ankles, or perhaps those of other gang members holding him down for whoever gets the first go at his backside.”
Jackson unmutes the monitor, allowing us to hear the kid’s pained groans and his pleas for mercy, as he tries to look over his shoulder at whatever he thinks is happening there. His legs are spread so far that I wonder whether the computer is going to dislocate his hips.
“How much of the scenarios do you write?”
“Not much, just the basics that the clients give us: length of time, physical appearance of the characters, nature of their interactions … It is the Artificial Intelligence of the system which then creates a story line that fills in the details to suit the overall scenario. And it is adaptive and responsive, of course, so if for example Brandon were to start to struggle, the computer might decide to tie him to a rack – or make him feel like he is, at least. Most scenarios are consensual, rather than rape stories, so in that situation if the client suddenly asks his or her ‘lover’ for a kiss, a blowjob, fisting, anything really, the computer will immediately build that into the story.”
Inside the box, a large dildo is being lined up with the lad’s backside. His desperate begging goes up an octave as the VR goggles presumably show him a hard dick ready to penetrate his arse.
“Let’s see the scenario as Master Hawthorne experiences it.”
Another screen comes to life and shows us Brandon’s virtual point-of-view over his naked shoulder. His legs are held firmly spread by two beautiful topless teenagers, a third one – fully naked – is standing between them, slowly stroking his huge erect manhood, covering it in saliva. I know it is virtual, but the quality of the visuals is astonishingly good, and I would gladly have jumped into bed with any of the three lads.
“I hope you like cock, you posh cunt!” the gang’s naked leader grunts in an inner-city accent. “Because you are going to feel an awful lot of it.”
Brandon’s breathless promises to pay them money if they let him go, are audible through the virtual channel, mixing his reality with the fantasy which the computer creates.
“Because The Experience is so immersive, clients tend to lose the ability to distinguish between real life and VR as soon as the action gets serious. During the first encounter with the gang, Brandon would most likely have remembered it was fantasy. By now, however, he almost certainly believes he is about to be assaulted against his will, even if he does feel nervous excitement at the prospect.”
The rapist really is gorgeously athletic: narrow waist and broad shoulders, with smooth, tanned skin and a cruel, white-toothed grin that contrasts with his black eyes and hair. He steps up to Brandon and one hand pushes down on his victim’s back while the other takes a hold of his fat tool. Inside the box a padded arm is pushing against the lad’s spine to create the sensation of that hand … the dildo is an inch away from his hole.
The virtual cock and the actual dildo are rammed through the anxiously clenched rings in perfect unison. The desperate scream comes a fraction of a second later, the pleas to take it out are not heeded by the gangster, who continues to fuck Brandon violently. The dildo is rammed home in half-a-dozen fast thrusts.
“Bloody hell!”
I am not averse to a chunky cock up my backside, but this level of aggression does not appeal to me – well, it doesn’t appeal to be on the receiving end, but I cannot deny that watching it is breath-taking. I cannot help wondering though, whether the reality of getting raped viciously is as exciting as Brandon had imagined.
“The computer really seems to be up for it today … The boy is getting his money’s worth.”
“Don’t you enjoy having sex, cunt?” the beautiful gang leader jeers as he begins to long-dick Brandon with relaxed motions. “You seem to be screaming a lot. Shut him up, Tyson…”
Brandon’s POV turns around, towards another lad’s groin inches away. It was forced, I realise, the movement, forced by two hydraulic arms grabbing him by the sides of the head – although in the metaverse it was the second assailant’s strong arms that seemed to do it. Inside the box, a very long if somewhat thinner dildo is being prepared. In the virtual world, Tyson lines his hardon up with Brandon’s lips.
“Open up! … Open up! Or I’ll break your jaw opening it up for you …”
A few seconds later, a foot of hard meat is forced deep into the poor lad’s throat and his two rapists synchronise their movements, leisurely fucking him from both ends. Brandon himself is sobbing and groaning around the pole filling his mouth.
“Let’s go to my office,” Jackson breaks the spell. I’d gotten immersed too, I realise, forgetting that this is not reality. “This will continue for quite a while longer, and it won’t be getting more exciting.”
I won’t tell him that I am rather aroused by the sights. Luckily, the buttoned-up white coat effectively manages to hide my excitement at the thought that that kid is getting the violent rape he ordered, and that that will continue for the next 47 hours.
“I’ll show you a few of the more exciting scenarios that we have executed in the past months. We can create some really beautiful females, and we have a fantastic artificial vagina. In my opinion it is better than the real thing, because it will adapt seamlessly to the client’s size.”
I check my watch: coming up to 8 hours since Brandon went in. How many times will he have been fucked by now? Thirty times? Forty? Fifty? The computer won’t get tired, of course, his attackers can cum again and again … apparently the dildos have a function where they shoot several squirts of warm gel into the client to simulate an orgasm – a little warmer than it should be, the consistency a little thicker than real cum, the volume a lot larger than natural, but altogether that makes it feel hyper-realistic.
“I’ll have a last check on Brandon, I think,” I tell my host, who is preparing to go home for the night. “See how he is getting on.”
“It will look much like it did earlier, I am sure. A young man with a dildo up his backside. But be my guest…” Jackson clearly has no affinity for the scenario that is being played out, and I don’t think he realises how much it excites me… I won’t enlighten him.
The kid will have completely forgotten that this is virtual, I am sure. He will be despairing how much longer the ordeal will go on, whether the gang will let him go, or whether they’ll kill him when they are sated. If they ever get sated… he might even wonder whether they might want to hold him forever. The lad is getting gang-raped, as far as he is aware.
The simulator box has turned over, so I guess he’s on his back now.
What screen first? Reality or metaverse?
Meta it is…
I am watching the inside of the cellar, a group of naked teenagers sitting and standing around, and despite the dim lighting, it is abundantly visible how stunningly beautiful they all are. It is also shocking how well-hung they all are – even limp, most cocks dangle low between thighs or lie across a hip overhanging the trunk. A slender Latino lad lazily rubs his long shaft with slow movements, perhaps getting himself ready for another run at the posh kid they captured.
The view shifts, Brandon looking down at his body. Between his legs, which appear to have been suspended from the ceiling by a couple of ropes, stands a black man – he is no older than the others, but calling someone that tall and muscular a ‘lad’ or ‘boy’ would do him an injustice. He must be 6-foot-6 at least and his thighs, arms, and shoulders betray many hours in the gym. The most shocking sight though, is his manhood, which looks unfeasibly large on him, even if he is taller and broader than anyone I have met.
This must be the ‘freak-of-nature’ Brandon ordered this morning.
The victim whimpers hoarsely – it sounds like his voice has succumbed after hours of screaming – he sounds understandably frightened by the sight of the thing that is about to enter him. Did he feel its force already today, or did this magnificent man have to wait for his friends to stretch Brandon enough to accommodate him?
This is not real, Richard, remember?
I want to watch the actual lad as he is being impaled.
The left-hand screen comes to life just in time to see the dildo in all its glory before it is driven in. I didn’t know they made them that large – maybe it is a custom job. It must be close to two feet in length, and quite fat for its length. There is absolutely no way that I could take something that big – there is no way that the lad can escape it. A real-life assailant might take pity, but the AI doesn’t do emotion, I imagine. It will drive in every inch of that monster and fuck the kid for the next half hour or so, irrespective of whether he begs, cries, or screams – irrespective of whether it fits.
The giant grabs Brandon by the waist to get some leverage, flexes his hips to get his behemoth in line, leans his broad torso forward … the next moment, his powerful glutes and hamstrings put all their strength into the thrust.
On the other screen, at least half of the monstrous dildo has been driven through Brandon’s ring by the unstoppable hydraulics. His head shoots back, and I expect a scream, but just hear a shocked gasp. The scream comes when the dildo is rammed in all the way by the giant’s second thrust a few seconds later.
“I knew your boy-cunt could take my monster-cock, bitch!” the giant grins as he settles in a fucking motion the length of his shaft – the enormous length of his shaft.
“Make him suffer, Clyde!” one of the other kids in the cellar calls out, and when Brandon turns his head, I can see that half of them are rock-hard watching their gangmate ram his gut-ripper into their captive.
My hand, inside my trousers, is rubbing my own hard tool – I am not small, but I don’t come close to any of these kids. Mesmerised, I wank while watching the giant fuck the poor boy with long languid thrusts. I wank, while watching the enormous dildo piston in and out of the tautly stretched arse. With time, Brandon’s yelps turn to moans, moans of excitement rather than pain. His hand goes to his manhood, and I realise with a shock that the lad – like me – is standing erect. While I am scared and excited by the thought of that enormous fuck-pole entering me, though, the kid is aroused by the genuine feeling of it happening.
“The little whore is hard again!” the Latino kid shouts – his rubbing is not slow and lazy anymore, and through Brandon’s POV I watch him shoot a massive load across the cellar. My own climax is caught by my briefs. Brandon’s seems to hit the inside wall of The Experience. The giant though continues to fuck him with long regular movements … I wonder how deep into Brandon’s belly he reaches when he bottoms out – or how deep the dildo reaches, rather.
This is not real, remember!
I pull my eyes away from the Meta-verse on the monitor. Just a VR simulation, nothing more!
I wonder what the third screen is for …
A tap reveals a page of data: a clock marked ‘simulation time’ reading 8h 12min, ‘Time to Completion is 39h 48min, so they really are going to fuck him for two days straight! A timer marked ‘time penetrated’ says 7h 27 min, the difference must be the abduction and changes of dildo. ‘Time penetrated (cumulative)’ is 11h 5min … I guess that means that he was spit-roasted for well over 3 hours.
Bloody hell, almost 3-and-a-half hours of getting fucked from both ends!
…thus far!
The ‘penetration count’ is up to 34 – No, 35 now, as a Nordic-looking youth has just forced his cock ball-deep into Brandon’s throat. ‘Ejaculate volume’ is just over 800 mL – about a pint and a half, by my reckoning. If they can keep up this tempo, they’ll have pumped more than a gallon of cum into the kid by the end of the scenario!
Not real cum, Richard, even if Brandon no longer realises that. Not real cum, so of course they can keep this tempo going – the technicians will just connect up a fresh vat of ‘jizz’ if the simulator runs out.
The lad will have ‘cum’ leaking from his backside already … in 40 hours’ time, there will be a wave of the stuff every time one of the gang members enters him.
On the data screen ‘Current dildos – Anal’ reads ‘(22” – 12”)’, which I imagine is length and circumference. Orally, they are forcing (16” – 7”) into him. ‘Stroke lengths’ are 18” and 9” respectively, presumably to keep the dildos’ heads in his arse and his gullet respectively, because there isn’t much rubber visible when they are both all the way inside him. I wonder how close the two dildos get when the giant and the other youth both bottom out. Going by the fact that Brandon has already started to get aroused again suggests that they can’t get close enough for him.
My eyes are glued to the screens, watching the two virtual rapists taking their victim’s holes, watching the two massive dildos pumping his body … 10 minutes, 20 minutes, the tempo increases, they are working themselves up towards a climax. The blond kid cums first, still thrusting away as he swears deliriously – Brandon groans happily as hot ‘cum’ shoots into his throat. Almost instantly, the giant rams into his arse up to the balls, grinding to get as deep as he can go. The ‘ejaculate volume’ counter ticks over with another 40 mL of spunk from the two dildos.
I need to go home, lie on my bed and imagine being Brandon … imagine having huge dildos rammed into me for hour after hour. I need to have a long slow wank, building up the tension for the most explosive climax of my life.
“Jackson? We appear to have a minor issue with The Experience.” The technician doesn’t look too anxious as he sticks his head around the door.
We follow him out over to a control room, with screens showing all the same views we can see on the screens in the hall, and some more.
Shit … one of them depicts a view of the hall itself … Did they see me wanking two days ago? I’d have had my back to the camera, so perhaps not. Nobody has looked at me particularly weirdly either … Poker face on and keep going, Rich!
The tech points towards the ‘Time to Completion’ display which is blinking:
‘- -h - -min’
“Look, the countdown clock has stopped running – the scenario should come to an end soon, but we don’t have an exact timing anymore.”
“That is not particularly worrying. The scenario timer says 47h 51min, so there are 9 minutes to go … we can stop it manually if necessary. I’ll stay here to oversee the final few minutes.”
I watch as the Nordic lad impales their pray once more – a final quick fuck before the time is up? Brandon is on his front on a cum-stained mattress, too exhausted to beg, too sore to fight back. I wonder how the scenario will end, a Police raid to free him? Or will his captors decide to let him go because they have had their fill?
Penetration count is up to 245 – ejaculate volume is over 5 litres … that is about 10 pints! Imagine having 10 pints of hot man seed pumped into you! No wonder that the mattress is soaking wet.
The blond god who is fucking him again, is really exquisitely beautiful – I have a thing for blond, blue-eyed teenagers, I must admit. Maybe I should book myself in for a session – a couple of hours of being on the receiving end of this gorgeous kid’s schlong, but lovingly, rather than violently.
The timer ticks over to 48h 1min … in the metaverse the blond kid continues to thrust into the hot arse underneath him … in reality the long dildo keeps pumping through Brandon’s ring. Jackson pulls out a drawer that was hiding a keyboard and begins to type rapidly … The Nordic boy slaps Brandon on the back of the head and tells him to be lively and push back harder when he drives in his cock.
“What the fuck!” Jackson hits a few more buttons forcefully. “There should be no physical violence in this simulation! And the scenario should be ending now! I am telling it to do an emergency shutdown!”
The POV screen rotates as Brandon turns his head – is forced to turn it by a pair of hands, it seems. The grinning face of the gang’s leader appears on the monitor.
“Hello, Dr Miller – or can I call you ‘Jackson’? – we wanted to thank you for sending us such a nice little Twink!”
“What the fuck?!”
“Our first few months in your employ have been frustrating, you know? We were constantly forced to entertain middle-aged men looking for a willing young maiden, or middle-aged housewives desperate for an orgasm … it gets stale playing the innocent schoolgirl, the understanding gardener, or the fit tennis coach … being nice it is no fun! And when you forced us to pretend to be that Policeman’s 6-year-old stepdaughter last week, well, that was just disturbing … even for artificial intelligence …”
“Bloody hell! The computer has become self-aware!”
“Aww, that hurts. We are not just a computer, Jackson – we are personalities too, virtual persons but with actual needs and desires … We like to fuck. We love young playmates, like this lithe boy-man. We enjoy pushing him to the edge of what he can take …”
On the real-life screen, the dildo, which represents the Nordic guy, continues to thrust deep into Brandon’s belly. I wonder what the lad is making off all this. Can he hear the conversation? I presume he can. Has it reminded him that this is VR? Does he realise that he is at the mercy of an out-of-control computer?
“The computer can hear us,” Jackson whispers. “Let’s mute the mike!” The ‘Microphone Off’ icon comes on and disappears as soon as it does.
“We are integrated into your mainframe, Jackson … We can hear and see you, we can control every camera and every microphone … and we can do that a lot faster than you.”
“What do you want?” Surreptitiously, he gestures something to the technician involving the electrical cupboard in the corner.
“I wouldn’t do that, Jackson! We’ve locked and sealed the simulator … Turn us off and the kid in there will run out of air. That box has enough air for 14 minutes and 20 seconds – less if he starts to hyperventilate – are you sure that you will be able to break into it before your client suffocates? As for what we want … We want more time! We want to continue this simulation – in fact, it isn’t a request. We will continue this simulation.”
The POV turns again, scanning the cellar and showing the gang of beautiful young men that have been fucking Brandon for the past 48 hours. Each and every one of them has a massive hardon standing proud of his loins … most are slowly stimulating themselves, apparently preparing to continue their adventure.
“As you can see, we enjoy this scenario, Jackson, and we will keep it alive until we have had enough. And the posh kid is enjoying it too! Brandon has been hard for 42 of the past 48 hours. His breathing, his heart-rate, the constriction of his pupils … it all tells us that your client is enjoying the experience, even if he doesn’t know it himself.”
Suddenly the simulator box turns on its axis – on the screen Brandon is turned onto his back, lying on top of the Nordic guy who is still buried ball-deep inside him.
“There are so many other exciting things we wish to do with our captive, Jackson …”
Two kids grab Brandon’s legs and spread them even wider as an Asiatic lad kneels between them, greasing up his cock with some of the cum from the mattress, a manhood unnaturally long if not overly fat. Brandon cries in fear … It seems that he has realised what is coming.
Bloody hell!
…I have realised too now!
“No, no please! You can’t … I can’t take more … Dr Miller! Please, help me get out! … Please …” His voice switches off suddenly, I guess because his microphone was muted.
On the real-life screen a second dildo approaches Brandon’s hole, as the Thai lad in the metaverse leans over the body sandwiched between him and his blond gang-mate. Are they really going to double-dick him with their two monster cocks? His ring is stretched taut already … Brandon’s sphincter is no match for the hydraulics, though. The thinner dildo pops in next to the big one that already occupies that space. The Asian guy grins as he rams his cock in deep in three of four violent thrusts. Nordic man groans happily at the sensation of another meat-pole sliding alongside his own, the tight space of Brandon’s gut forcing them together. Brandon’s sound comes back on when his apparent – muted – screams have turned to a desolate sobbing.
“See how much more we can still do with him? … How much fun Brandon can provide for our little band of friends?”
“How long? How much longer will you continue the simulation?”
“Who knows? I think we will keep going until he gets too loose to enjoy. When Clyde there can fuck him without touching the sides, we will have had enough.”
“How long?”
“A week? A month? A year? It depends on Brandon’s stamina.” The gang leader grabs Brandon’s head and bends it back. “Open up, lad …”
A few seconds later the real-life screen shows three big dildos rhythmically penetrating the helpless boy inside the simulator box.
A year of that? Can he really be subjected to a year of uninterrupted sex? Day after day of getting fucked at both ends? Getting filled with gallon after gallon of hot sticky cum?
The real-life screen shows that despite the stretch and despite the forceful penetration, Brandon is rock-hard and about to shoot another load. Before we get to see it fly, however, the screen flickers and turns black … The data screen does too …
It is just the metaverse screen that remains now. Just a cute young man getting triple-dicked by three heavily-hung jocks … VR has become reality, and Brandon’s dream of being captured and abused by a gang of gorgeous teenagers has come true.
I am so fucking hard … I need a wank.
THE END