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The Dark Side Of Cybering
folder
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
10,920
Reviews:
24
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
10,920
Reviews:
24
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
The Dark Side Of Cybering
Okay let’s try another one. This one is a little different, and maybe not what you want to read, so let me know either way and if it’s crap I’ll scrap it. May contain a lot of naughtiness and violence so beware to the weak at heart. Thanks for all the great reviews on the last story, Heather
Joan Garner sat at her computer as she did day after day, typing up the thoughts that flowed out from her mind like mini tidal waves. She loved to write, had been doing it since she was seven years old. It may have been because of that that she had no life outside her den in her small home in Colorado, or maybe it was because of the lack of other distractions that she wrote. Either way it was too the chicken and the egg for her to spend very much time contemplating.
Her only company each and every day was her cat, Molly (whom she had discovered soon after she named it that Molly was really a male), and her poor pathos plant that was forever on the verge of death, but managed to eek out a scraggly existence. They were close companions and never told her that she should brush her stringy hair, or maybe put on some make-up, or even to get out of the sweat pants and dress nicely for one day out of the year as her mother did during each conversation they had. They accepted her for who she was, and for that she was grateful.
Not that she needed companions at all, really. She had her characters. Her princes and policemen, her heroines and vixens. They were her friends and her family. In these stories she became whomever she pleased and traveled to exotic and tropical places where she did not have too many freckles, or too long a nose. Where her hair was golden blonde instead of dull dark brown. Where her breasts were round and full instead of too small. Tall and graceful instead of short and awkward. These characters were the people that lived deep inside of her and needed only her fantasy lands to live in.
Writing crime fiction and suspense thrillers were Joan’s claim to fame. She had spent years studying criminology along with creative writing in school. She was on her third novel now, the two others sitting proudly alone on her oak bookcase, covers shining. “Too Much Wine and Dice”, and “The Bird was Too Early” sat on separate shelves, and one day she dreamed of filling the shelves with her own work. Her editor, Collin Perish, had loved both of her manuscripts, making her his choice for the next hot author since Dean Koontz.
The only problem Collin had now was her lack of sexual content in the stories. “Sex sells, Joannie. We may hate it, but it’s a time honored truth. Spice the next one up a bit and we will be over five million sold, I would guarantee it.” It wasn’t like Joan had never had sex. She had had sex four times. Not a lot for a twenty nine year old woman, but she had never found anything particularly wonderful about it the times she had, so why bother. It did leave her with a less than knowledgeable insight, however, and as she sat that Saturday, her finger hitting backspace so much it was blurring her vision she decided to give it a rest for a awhile and take her mind off of it.
In the kitchen, Joan made her fourth pot of coffee for the day and nibbled an apple while trying to think. It bothered her to be blocked on a story. In any other instance she would hit the Net and research, but how did you research sex? One could look at pornography, but that would give her nothing that she could write except descriptions of breasts and penises. She had to find more. She had not had a date in two years and would not even begin to guess how to get one in time to kill the writers block that had formed over her mind like a lead sphere. Not saying that a date would lead to anything more than a friendly handshake anyway.
Joan sat her half eaten apple down and stormed back to her computer, determined to find something on the Net that would help her, or at least get her mind off The Block. She hit the icon for her internet server and listened as the speakers buzzed and whistled. Soon her home screen was up and she sat her cursor on the search engine. She stopped. “What the hell am I supposed to be looking for? If I hit “sex” I will get a shit-load of porn sites, half of them full of viruses,” she said absently to herself, as her eyes began to roam over the home page, stopping a second on the news, then quickly away as the headline was about a certain singer that had gotten off scott free of child molesting charges. Then her eyes caught onto something. In the corner of the page. A link to the sight’s chat rooms. She had never gone into them before, her fear of people not limited to those she could see and hear. Her finger hit the mouse button on the link before she could stop it, and a listing of chat rooms immediately came up. She scrolled through the many rooms, hoping one would catch her eye. Towards the bottom were some of the racier rooms. “DauseesDadtouchit” This one almost made her vomit. She moved the cursor up, ready to hit close when another farther down drew her attention. “Cyberopenlyinroom”. She clicked on it, and was taken into the room right away. At once lines popped up on the screen, making her jaw drop.
Pusslvr4u1903: Sliding my hand over your bare thigh, cumming up to your sweet
Pussy, sliding two fingers inside
Swtlilthang097: Moaning as you finger me, but firm breasts heaving with my hard
Breathing
Catsmeow8777: slamming hard into nikki’s ass, her screams making me pump harder Pusslvr4u1903: fingers wet with pusses juices, fingering her faster
On and on the sexual talk continued as Joan watched in awe. She had never seen this type of thing before, but now understood why all the other college kids had spoke of it so often. It was perfect save for the grammar school language and immature use of adjectives and adverbs. She would just sit here, and watch and see if there was something she could get ideas from and-
In the corner of her screen a window had popped up. It was an instant message alert. This was the first she had ever received and it made her very curious. She hit the ‘open window’ button and the window enlarged with two boxes, one for her to type in and the other for the conversation to appear. The message was from MasterD1989.
MasterD1989: How are you today, Joan?
Joan was a little nervous at responding. She did not do well speaking to people, her tongue tying in knots and hiding her high intelligence behind a haze of mumble words. But what the hell, she thought, she was a great writer, and what was this but writing?
JoanG126781: Very well, thank you, and yourself?
MasterD1989: Well, Thank you for asking. Are you going to cyber in the room today, or
sit in the wings and watch. Many do not appreciate lookie loos as they
are sometimes called.
JoanG126781: I’ve never been in a chat room before. I really don’t know what to do.
MasterD1989: Well, they are highly overrated. If you’d like, you and I can talk for
awhile then when you feel more comfortable, you can go in and
talk like you don’t have a brain in your head like the rest of these
fools.
JoanG126781: Well, you’re in here. Are you not a fool?
MasterD1989: Anything but, my dear. I am but an observer, as you yourself are
right at the moment. They don’t pay me much mind anyway.
I guess you could say I’m a predator looking for today’s prey.
JoanG126781: Prey? You mean lonely women who are vulnerable?
This peeked her interest. In her story the victim of the crime was kidnapped and she thought of either having her raped or letting her fall for the kidnapper. Some way to “spice it up”.
MasterD1989: Yes. You are vulnerable and in need of sexual gratification, are you not?
even if you must resort to getting it on the internet?
Joan began to type that he was a rude and conceded braggart that need taken down a few pegs, but then she erased what she had typed and thought for a moment. This is exactly was she needed for the book. The kidnapper was a smart, overly confident scoundrel like this man. Thought too highly of himself. Thought of women as prey to a point. Maybe she had struck pay dirt here.
JoanG126781: I’ll try anything once.
She wrote it, sent it, then winced. She had never spoken like that in her life.
MasterD1989: Good. Let’s begin.
Okay, I know it’s starting slow, but it will speed up quick I think. Let me know what ya think and if I get no reviews, I’ll trash it and start over. Have a good one until I get the next chap in.
Joan Garner sat at her computer as she did day after day, typing up the thoughts that flowed out from her mind like mini tidal waves. She loved to write, had been doing it since she was seven years old. It may have been because of that that she had no life outside her den in her small home in Colorado, or maybe it was because of the lack of other distractions that she wrote. Either way it was too the chicken and the egg for her to spend very much time contemplating.
Her only company each and every day was her cat, Molly (whom she had discovered soon after she named it that Molly was really a male), and her poor pathos plant that was forever on the verge of death, but managed to eek out a scraggly existence. They were close companions and never told her that she should brush her stringy hair, or maybe put on some make-up, or even to get out of the sweat pants and dress nicely for one day out of the year as her mother did during each conversation they had. They accepted her for who she was, and for that she was grateful.
Not that she needed companions at all, really. She had her characters. Her princes and policemen, her heroines and vixens. They were her friends and her family. In these stories she became whomever she pleased and traveled to exotic and tropical places where she did not have too many freckles, or too long a nose. Where her hair was golden blonde instead of dull dark brown. Where her breasts were round and full instead of too small. Tall and graceful instead of short and awkward. These characters were the people that lived deep inside of her and needed only her fantasy lands to live in.
Writing crime fiction and suspense thrillers were Joan’s claim to fame. She had spent years studying criminology along with creative writing in school. She was on her third novel now, the two others sitting proudly alone on her oak bookcase, covers shining. “Too Much Wine and Dice”, and “The Bird was Too Early” sat on separate shelves, and one day she dreamed of filling the shelves with her own work. Her editor, Collin Perish, had loved both of her manuscripts, making her his choice for the next hot author since Dean Koontz.
The only problem Collin had now was her lack of sexual content in the stories. “Sex sells, Joannie. We may hate it, but it’s a time honored truth. Spice the next one up a bit and we will be over five million sold, I would guarantee it.” It wasn’t like Joan had never had sex. She had had sex four times. Not a lot for a twenty nine year old woman, but she had never found anything particularly wonderful about it the times she had, so why bother. It did leave her with a less than knowledgeable insight, however, and as she sat that Saturday, her finger hitting backspace so much it was blurring her vision she decided to give it a rest for a awhile and take her mind off of it.
In the kitchen, Joan made her fourth pot of coffee for the day and nibbled an apple while trying to think. It bothered her to be blocked on a story. In any other instance she would hit the Net and research, but how did you research sex? One could look at pornography, but that would give her nothing that she could write except descriptions of breasts and penises. She had to find more. She had not had a date in two years and would not even begin to guess how to get one in time to kill the writers block that had formed over her mind like a lead sphere. Not saying that a date would lead to anything more than a friendly handshake anyway.
Joan sat her half eaten apple down and stormed back to her computer, determined to find something on the Net that would help her, or at least get her mind off The Block. She hit the icon for her internet server and listened as the speakers buzzed and whistled. Soon her home screen was up and she sat her cursor on the search engine. She stopped. “What the hell am I supposed to be looking for? If I hit “sex” I will get a shit-load of porn sites, half of them full of viruses,” she said absently to herself, as her eyes began to roam over the home page, stopping a second on the news, then quickly away as the headline was about a certain singer that had gotten off scott free of child molesting charges. Then her eyes caught onto something. In the corner of the page. A link to the sight’s chat rooms. She had never gone into them before, her fear of people not limited to those she could see and hear. Her finger hit the mouse button on the link before she could stop it, and a listing of chat rooms immediately came up. She scrolled through the many rooms, hoping one would catch her eye. Towards the bottom were some of the racier rooms. “DauseesDadtouchit” This one almost made her vomit. She moved the cursor up, ready to hit close when another farther down drew her attention. “Cyberopenlyinroom”. She clicked on it, and was taken into the room right away. At once lines popped up on the screen, making her jaw drop.
Pusslvr4u1903: Sliding my hand over your bare thigh, cumming up to your sweet
Pussy, sliding two fingers inside
Swtlilthang097: Moaning as you finger me, but firm breasts heaving with my hard
Breathing
Catsmeow8777: slamming hard into nikki’s ass, her screams making me pump harder Pusslvr4u1903: fingers wet with pusses juices, fingering her faster
On and on the sexual talk continued as Joan watched in awe. She had never seen this type of thing before, but now understood why all the other college kids had spoke of it so often. It was perfect save for the grammar school language and immature use of adjectives and adverbs. She would just sit here, and watch and see if there was something she could get ideas from and-
In the corner of her screen a window had popped up. It was an instant message alert. This was the first she had ever received and it made her very curious. She hit the ‘open window’ button and the window enlarged with two boxes, one for her to type in and the other for the conversation to appear. The message was from MasterD1989.
MasterD1989: How are you today, Joan?
Joan was a little nervous at responding. She did not do well speaking to people, her tongue tying in knots and hiding her high intelligence behind a haze of mumble words. But what the hell, she thought, she was a great writer, and what was this but writing?
JoanG126781: Very well, thank you, and yourself?
MasterD1989: Well, Thank you for asking. Are you going to cyber in the room today, or
sit in the wings and watch. Many do not appreciate lookie loos as they
are sometimes called.
JoanG126781: I’ve never been in a chat room before. I really don’t know what to do.
MasterD1989: Well, they are highly overrated. If you’d like, you and I can talk for
awhile then when you feel more comfortable, you can go in and
talk like you don’t have a brain in your head like the rest of these
fools.
JoanG126781: Well, you’re in here. Are you not a fool?
MasterD1989: Anything but, my dear. I am but an observer, as you yourself are
right at the moment. They don’t pay me much mind anyway.
I guess you could say I’m a predator looking for today’s prey.
JoanG126781: Prey? You mean lonely women who are vulnerable?
This peeked her interest. In her story the victim of the crime was kidnapped and she thought of either having her raped or letting her fall for the kidnapper. Some way to “spice it up”.
MasterD1989: Yes. You are vulnerable and in need of sexual gratification, are you not?
even if you must resort to getting it on the internet?
Joan began to type that he was a rude and conceded braggart that need taken down a few pegs, but then she erased what she had typed and thought for a moment. This is exactly was she needed for the book. The kidnapper was a smart, overly confident scoundrel like this man. Thought too highly of himself. Thought of women as prey to a point. Maybe she had struck pay dirt here.
JoanG126781: I’ll try anything once.
She wrote it, sent it, then winced. She had never spoken like that in her life.
MasterD1989: Good. Let’s begin.
Okay, I know it’s starting slow, but it will speed up quick I think. Let me know what ya think and if I get no reviews, I’ll trash it and start over. Have a good one until I get the next chap in.