" "This is the third time I've saved your life, and you've complained every time. What a fool I am," Ston reproached himself for his naivety. He took a few steps away from the naked woman. He looked at his rival and had to admit it was a beautiful sight. It could easily serve as a subject for a nude painting. He'd thought of this because he was interested in art and liked to paint something in his free time.
The naked woman sat with her head buried in her knees. A crouched figure on the rocky bank of the river, where the silvery reflections of the sun danced. She hid her shame beneath her tucked legs.
The runner imagined how beautiful this nude would be if it were painted on canvas.
"You could at least say thank you," he muttered, feigning offense.
"Thank you," she said casually, and looked intently at her rescuer, snuggling even closer into her knees, her whole body trembling. "And you're the one who interrupted this beautiful dream," she remarked in a more contrite voice, wrinkling her small nose. "And why are you staring at me so shamelessly? If you're so kind, why don't you share your suit with me?" Seeing the runner's frightened expression, she added. "At least for a moment before we decide what to do next.
" "What's that? We're partners already! So fast," he sneered, deciding to retaliate against the impudence and arrogance of the woman, who, he remembered, was, after all, a rival, and he had promised himself he would never help anyone again. "It just so happens that I know exactly what needs to be done. And if you want to know, you just interfered with my plan.
" "Well, don't be so selfish." I feel quite awkward without clothes—she wanted to placate him by saying this. She carefully observed the runner's reaction, but the man's face remained indifferent. He seemed oblivious to her pitiful state, which aroused helpless anger in the woman. She decided to encourage him to change his stance, especially as the telepath's whisper intruded on her mind.
"Something's perched on those rocks like a hen on her eggs. Do something. The finish line awaits you on the other side of the river. Nothing's lost yet. Use your feminine charms, don't you think you have them?" The director's inner words beckoned with devilish insistence. "I don't think I need to teach you what men like best. This is your last chance! You beef ass!!! Do something!!!"
The woman knelt, turned sideways to her interlocutor, and, feigning offense, spread her round buttocks on her heels, further accentuating her slim waist. She added an innocent look to this image, honed many times during her youthful taunts with youngsters pretending to be men.
The alert telepath sensed the rise in sexual tension in runner number four and immediately capitalized on it, tapping into the man's consciousness.
"Uuuu...chuu, chuu... You're lucky, man. You must have been born with a caul. What a virtual asshole you've got. Oh yo yo..." The dirty talk was interrupted by a question the telepath had plucked from Stone's mind. "She's no threat to you. Don't worry... You know your score. You're the best. Calculate how many penalty points she'll get for not wearing a suit, a blaster, and a knife; besides, she didn't kill as many creatures as you. Surely you can count?"
Are pondered for a moment, mentally calculating, but when the runner unexpectedly turned to him, briefly revealing what was between her legs, he made up his mind immediately. He nervously chose which part of the suit to give up. Finally, he decided to give up the upper part of the protective suit for the moment. He pressed the "Open" button on the belt buckle, which held the suit together using magnetic force. The suit's zippers popped open, and his pants fell off the belt. The runner, with a stupid expression, grabbed his zipper and tried to conceal what was so insistently trying to see the light of day. He turned around hastily, revealing his bare buttocks.
The runner was laughing uproariously, and she wasn't the only one, as even the virtual reality surrounding them seemed to blur slightly.
"For a moment, I thought you wanted to give me back my pants," the woman mocked his awkwardness and shamelessly stood up. "I'm not going to be ashamed of virtual shapes that aren't actually real, and my real body doesn't have to be as ample as this." She danced a pirouette in front of him, flaunting her ample breasts. She stepped closer, swaying her hips exaggeratedly. She grabbed the runner firmly by the waist and pulled him violently towards her.
"I'd be terribly selfish if I didn't show my gratitude for his generous heart. My sweet savior. Moo," she smacked her lips passionately. She began to undo the fist clenched in the zipper, which the man was clutching at his falling pants, slowly, finger by finger, until the pants fell back to his ankles. They slid together onto the hot sand.
"You owe me for the interrupted erotic dream," she said with feigned anger.
She brutally flipped the runner onto his back and swiftly jumped onto his muscular torso. She quickly found his protruding manhood and skillfully danced her hips. And when she had settled comfortably, she suddenly seemed to remember the recent gallop, when the material of the suit burned her skin, and she began to accelerate steadily.
It was brutal, fast sex. They subconsciously felt this was the way to relieve their nerves—tensed to the breaking point. They would certainly have experienced pleasure more slowly and calmly, but the telepath brazenly intervened in this intimate union, pleading with him in a pleading voice:
"Just take it easy. There's no need to rush. We have time. Plenty of time... Damn it! What are you doing? Is this an obstacle course? No way!!! Let me focus! Egoists! Sadists! Masochists! Vandals of pleasure..."
They both heard these words. They smiled knowingly and, with the satisfaction of revenge, accelerated even further. They broke into a gallop as if trying to outdo each other in reaching orgasm. They couldn't forget that danger lurked in every corner of this virtual world, and this awareness added a thrill to their experience, as if suspended above a precipice by a thin rope, each subsequent movement causing more strands to scrape against a sharp rock. They raced faster and faster until they reached their destination. Breathless, exhausted, like horses racing to a desired finish line. They were exhausted beyond endurance, but happy with their victory. The relief contained in their screams was immense and loud, the pleasure painful. When they recovered, they realized the telepath had enormous potential for retaliation. They quickly rose, ready to repel the attack. The sight of their surroundings reassured them.
The cloudless sky, the calm waters of the river shimmering with sunlight, the yellow glow of the empty space around them, filled them with peace. They were surprised, certain of an immediate attack by one of the virtual monsters, and watched in fear. The runner handed the jacket to his virtual lover, saying,
"Remember, it's only a loan."
"Oh, thanks! Okay, okay. Let's see how it fits me," she said, feigning indifference, and snatched the gift from his hands.
Ston pressed the "CLOSE" button on the buckle. The pants of the suit adjusted to the waist, creating a cohesive whole. The top of the suit fit the runner quite sexy, especially since it was oversized and barely covered her firm buttocks.
"It fits," the satisfied woman admitted approvingly. "It fits me like a glove." The runner paraded before him like a model on a runway. "You have a timer," she handed him her personal device. "I have to find mine. I'll go see if anything from my outfit is still there." She ran off toward the lump of flesh.
Are looked after her, enjoying the curves that periodically emerged from the bottom edge of the garment. He put the watch on his wrist, smiling and licking his lips lusciously, he thought. From behind, in that sexy jacket, she looked even more alluring than naked, he noticed, and was startled by his growing arousal. He wanted to run after her, catch up, and...
"Well... indeed," the telepath's voice brazenly appeared. "You're right, man, what a beautiful ass, you'll lick your fingers and taste it until it hurts," the mutant encouraged, his voice trembling. "Man, get to work! Take her for an encore! Chase those buttocks, or they'll run away... They bounce so nicely, and you're doing nothing, you impotent man," the inner voice insistently tempted.
The telepath uttered this at an inopportune time, because passionate runner number five, with the number four written on Ston's personal tank, found her belt, helmet, and clock, put them on, and flipped the appropriate switch; the upper part of the suit fused with the belt. Then she ran joyfully to the bank and, waving to the speechless runner, jumped into the river.
Ston stood for a long time, his face blank, his hand unconsciously extended, as if to bid farewell to a loved one. He watched the circular marks in the water disappear. It took him a long time to recover. This was the obvious end to his struggle. He realized he'd been taken advantage of and realized his own naivety—his lack of sober understanding of the situation; he felt violated and humiliated.
"And that's how it's been with me my whole life," he admitted despairingly. "How many more times will women make fun of me? I'm fine with that! I'm such a piece of shit. Oh fuck, my dear!" And I already had the winnings in my pocket. I was almost at the finish line. But no, it wasn't enough. I still wanted to get a kick out of it at the end.
The resigned runner sat down on his now-redundant helmet and finished the drawing he'd started, now with his finger, because of course, he'd lost his swordtail too. Nothing infuriated him more than theft. Anger grew within him. The virtual girl had turned out to be a clever girl who knew what she wanted and had turned him into a naive calf.
"I won't sit still and wait for virtual death." "It's not over yet. Oh no!" You stunted little thing!" He insulted the telepath, but he didn't regret it at all. "I don't give a damn about your penalty points."
The adrenaline-fueled strength building in Runner Number Four allowed him to quickly push the last piece of meat into the river. He moved a little further upstream and calmly submerged himself beneath the surface. He took advantage of the moment when the piranhas were occupied with an additional feast. He tried to swim underwater—slowly, so as not to attract the predatory fish. When he needed air, he calmly surfaced. The river current pushed him toward the bloodthirsty feast. He saw thousands of hungry fish fighting each other for food. A growing sense of fear and the urge to swim as quickly as possible accelerated his movements. He swam toward the opposite bank, and the closer he got to its rocky edge, the faster he swam, now in a crawl, making a lot of noise. He felt a heat, from which erupted pain, growing and terrifying. His pin-sharp teeth tore into the flesh. He didn't remember swimming the few meters; it was a frantic escape from the pain.
The mutilated Ston struggled out of the river. The two piranhas, clinging to the torn muscles of his legs, didn't care about the lack of water. He smashed their heads with the nearest stone. The pain intensified cyclically, forcing him to scream. The runner glanced at the clock and cursed.
"Oh, fuck! Only twenty meters left, you stunted little guy. You think I can't do it? You're wrong! I can do it!"
The runner's mutilated body resembled a fly with a crushed abdomen. Meter by meter, he inched forward, leaving a bloody mess behind, occasionally freezing in a stupor and screaming horribly.
"Seven more meters! You fucker! You sadist!" He spat out insults and continued dragging his mangled legs. The screams gave him relief from the pain, so he didn't hold back.
"Four more meters, you fucking prick with a head like a pumpkin!" You drooping h...
Stone marked the rocky shore with a red streak, trailing a wet trail behind it like a snail, fainting from loss of blood. His consciousness, burning with hatred for the director and author of his suffering, refused to be lulled.
The telepath, the Great Sade—as he was colloquially called—stared in admiration at hypnovirtuator number four, who lit up with sparks and threads of electrical discharge. He shook his head in disbelief, looking at the figure screaming in agony.
"Three more meters! What? You thought I couldn't do it! You unstable bastard. You self-sufficient virtual..."
Are summoned the last of his strength, lifted his torso, and tried to roll the last two meters. His arm muscles gave out, and he collapsed near the finish line. He was literally one and a half meters short of completing the race. Consciousness faded slowly, the helplessness was absolute.
A ray of light emerged from the black abyss. It was the number four written on his personal oxygen tank, he heard a familiar voice say.
"This is a gift from me for helping you in your time of need. You, my virtual lover. I can't stand to watch you suffer."
A feeling of relief washed over him. He heard the beep signaling the finish line. Cyberspace around him blurred. The points tally appeared on the control clock monitor:
POINTS FOR DISTANCE TRAVELED + 5000 p
KILLING ATTACKING CREATURES + 2300 p
DAMAGE TO TWO LEGS - 2000 p DAMAGE TO THE SUIT -
1000 p LOSS OF HELMET - 1000 p LOSS OF BLOWER - 1000 p LOSS OF KNIFE - 1000 p INSULT THE TELEPATHY - 10 times - 1000 p CURRENT SCORE + 300 p Isn't the word "sorry" enough for insult? You had to take so many points from me for those few words of truth. And shove that thousand deep inside you, he thought with satisfaction from hypnovirtuator number four; he knew the insulting telepath was eavesdropping on him.Are was mentally and physically exhausted, and he didn't care much about the final calculations. He patted his legs fondly. His recent experiences seemed distant. Everything he had experienced during the psychophysical test had given him much to reflect on. He was proud of himself. He glanced around the room full of hypnovirtuators. His gaze fell on his neighbor, who was smiling at him with foxy satisfaction, her face radiating victory.
Ston had mixed feelings about her, but he responded with a wink and a half-hearted smile. He was disappointed to find that she bore no resemblance to the virtual blonde with innocent blue eyes. The brunette with the mischievous gaze lacked a generous physique, coupled with a thin waist. Unfortunately, she was slim as a model, resembling a square hanger. There were plenty of them in the current reality, where liposuction by a plastic surgeon had become as common as trying on clothes before shopping. The telepath's words interrupted his assessment of the woman he was observing.
"Let those who failed to reach the finish line leave the room."
The candidates stood up and, hurling insults at the telepath, slowly moved toward the exit. The security guard helped them leave more quickly. This reminded Ston of his unpleasant experience during the psychophysical test. He was filled with hatred and a thirst for revenge.
"You sadist," he muttered through his teeth, adding with satisfaction. "You dwarf pig, how can you torment people like that?"
"But, Mr. Are! Relax! No offense! This is my job! I try to do it to the best of my ability. My main task is selection," the man with the piercing gaze explained hastily. "Your neighbor finished the race with a thousand points more, but I won't be merciful and will cancel your negative points for insulting me." So, to summarize the results, you passed the test with the same score, and from now on, you will be a pair of scouts in the space shuttle crew. This is a very responsible position, requiring the highest qualifications," he tried to smooth things over, and seeing Are's face light up with the joy of victory, he added calmly. "We have reached a time when it is very difficult to find a perfectly healthy person. Therefore, a thorough examination is required, primarily in terms of psychophysical abilities, and consequently, sexual abilities."
The neighbor winked at Stone with her green eye, smiled flirtatiously, and, tilting her head towards him, whispered.
"I'm pleased. Especially since you already know what I like most." She pursed her lips as if sucking a pacifier. "We will make a perfect couple." "My virtual lover. Sweet rocking horse." She leaned even closer to his ear and added affectionately. "I'll ride you every night until you squeal like a castrated stallion."
"Ride yourself, you skinny brat!" Ston said, and felt great.
THE END
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