Future Darkly: The White Room

Vincent grips the wheel of that old college bus, glasses sliding down his nose while a bunch of 18-year-olds giggle behind him. He keeps his head down until the last stop. Aidra steps up sucking a fat lollipop, blonde ponytail swinging. She smiles and says it’s weird they’ve never talked, then drops the candy in the trash and bounces off. He slams the brakes the second she’s gone. Gloves on, tweezers out—he snags that sticky lollipop, bags it, and guns the engine like he just scored a date. Back at his apartment he drops the thing on his computer. A scan pulls her picture and stats straight into VIRTUALLY REAL. He turns off “personality,” slaps the headset on, and the white room loads. Aidra stands there blinking in her uniform—navy blazer hugging a pair of big, perfect tits, little silver barbell gleaming at her navel when the shirt rides up. Three other girls already wait in a neat row: brunette Anna, pierced Audrey, stacked Ashley. Aidra asks what’s up. They smile and say they’re waiting for the General, the guy who shows up daily to fuck one of them. A flash and Vincent appears, decked out in full camo, shaved clean, eyes sharp. He barks orders; each girl snaps to attention, states her name, age, and that she’s here to fuck him. When he gets to Aidra she stammers the same line, knees shaking. He bends her over a desk and pounds her while the others watch, jealous and dripping. He grunts, fills her, then barks “EXIT” and vanishes. Days later a quiet brunette named Amber slides into the front seat. Vincent yanks a hair from her head when she steps off—amber strands clenched in his fist. Same routine: scan, load, log in. Amber wakes in the white room, freaked, uniform tight across her heavy rack. She recognizes the General the second he storms in, and when the server glitches she pieces it together. “This is a hacked game,” she hisses. The girls listen, shocked but willing. She lays out the plan. Next login the General orders Amber to her knees for solo duty. The others pout, just like always—then Amber snaps her fingers. They swarm him in a wild, sweaty pile. Brunette, blonde, pierced nipples flashing, tits bouncing while they ride and suck and grind every inch of him. One after another they force themselves to cum, glitch out in white flashes until only Amber and the General remain. She strokes him to a messy facial, laughs as he screams “EXIT” and collapses. Vincent rips the headset off in real life, smashing his keyboard, but the bus is already rolling again tomorrow.