WG III - The Real Thing
The Real Thing
By Sovandar
This was written as week three of the Writers' Guild Summer Challenge:
(http://www.sofurry.com/group/1045)
This tale contains explicit scenes involving sexual organs belonging to two male reptilian humanoids, as well as a dose of mind control. If any of this isn't to your taste, browsing elsewhere in the near future would be advisable.
If you're a minor, you shouldn't even have read down as far as this paragraph. So just what, I ask, are you still doing here?! Go on, shoo!
It's worth noting that this tale was entered in
YAAAAAAAY! XD
No copying without permission lest the wrath of the great god Copyrictus strike you down, all characters are fictional, and no resemblances are intended.
* * *
"...So you see, Mr Neill, being hooked up to the VR headset is completely safe", finished the short ferret in the lab coat, absent-mindedly brushing her hair out of her eyes for the umpteenth time.
It was obvious from her blushes, her stares, and her nervous demeanour, that she was a little attracted to Byron Neill; but the burly, blue-scaled dragon was used to it. Once a lanky, awkward nerd, excelling at mathematics, Byron had grown tired of being picked on simply because he too passive and feeble to fight back. He'd tried taking some lessons in Karate; then Judo; but after finding that he just didn't quite have the nerve to fight with the intent to hurt, he took a different tack, and had a try at bodybuilding; looking intimidating was enough, he found, to get people to leave him alone. Or better yet, take notice in... less hostile ways.
Byron liked to strut his stuff now, over a decade later - good-looking, intelligent, Byron had founded a small internet marketing business straight after graduating with a degree in Business and Economics; after five hard, stressful years, he had sold his company and made his first million, and he'd managed to repeat the feat several times since. He took a subversive pride in having it all, and secretly loved it when people got envious.
He was usually found dressed in comfortable jeans and a T-shirt that was slightly tighter on his frame than it need be, showing off his muscles. Today, though, he had worn a business suit - and had to take most of it off, leaving him shirtless; he hated that, though, because it showed off the ugly pinkish scar of a childhood appendectomy gone wrong. The scar, always an eyesore, had pulled and stretched as he grew up; as he gained weight, lost weight, and developed his musculature; these days it looked ten times worse. Its pinkish hue contrasted strongly with the blue of his scales to create a slightly unnerving effect.
That effect was heightened today by his nervous, tense posture, tilted back in a pale leather recliner that bore a disquieting similarity to a dentist's chair, although padded more luxuriously. Even less reassuring than the chair, though, was the dangling apparatus like an upside-down colander gone dreadfully wrong, which was strapped firmly to his scaly scalp. Wires ran from electrodes on the skin of his face and upper torso into the device, which in turn was wired with heavy-duty cabling to an array of computer servers and bleeping medical instruments, ensuring his heart rate, body temperature, brain activity, and breathing were staying well within safe limits.
"Ready, Byron?" called Darren, as the dark-green striped gecko strode over, stripping off his lab coat, and starting to unbutton his own shirt.
Byron started to nod, not really thinking, and the array of electrodes, straps, and metal supports stuck firmly on his scalp, clattered ominously. The ferret gave a gasp, and reached out to steady the apparatus. "Mind out!" she said, her habitual stern ferocity slipping past her friendly façade, "you'll damage the equipment, you fool!"
Byron blushed, the scales around his cheeks darkening to purple. "Sorry. I wasn't thinking."
Darren wanted to grin at his friend's embarrassment, but he couldn't afford to let the indiscretion go that easily. "Now, now, Susan", he scolded, "that's no way to talk to one of our major financiers, whoever he may be."
The ferret, admonished, dropped her gaze in embarrassment. "No, Dr Boyle." She turned back to Byron. "Slip of the tongue, Mr Neill. No offence meant."
Byron smiled awkwardly. "No problem. Already forgotten."
Darren chuckled as he lay back in an identical chair a few feet away, and started to carefully place electrodes against his own bared chest. "Don't let her off too easy, Byron. You paid for this equipment, remember."
Byron sighed. "The amount it cost, I'm not likely to forget."
Darren Boyle had known Byron since their final undergraduate year at University, when Darren had just been finishing a Master's Degree in Biophysics before moving on to take a Doctorate. While Byron had been all but penniless and slaving away at his own business, Darren been writing a ground-breaking thesis on Medical Imaging technology; later, while Byron had been receiving his first million, Darren had been snapped up by a commercial research team looking to create a reliable mind/machine interface, intended originally for military applications. Both seemed set for great success.
But fate hadn't played along; while Byron was re-investing his new wealth in a venture capital firm and multiplying it tenfold, Darren's team had its funding cut back progressively until, finally, the cuts came to their inevitable climax - the department's extinction. Advances in artificial intelligence meant that pure robots could do the jobs that the military/industrial complex had previously relied on people to do, and an expensive and untested user interface had become a liability more than an asset.
Darren's next job had come from Byron; Bryon's venture capitalist friends had recently taken on a struggling Virtual Reality computer game studio, rescuing it from the verge of bankruptcy. With Virtual Reality, or VR, being something of a flash in the pan, the studio seemed in urgent need of a new direction. But, Byron had argued to the Board of Directors, a functioning direct mind/machine interface would be one of the biggest media innovations in decades; workable patents would be worth billions - and of course, Byron knew where an experienced team and a shedload of unwanted technology were being offered for a pittance.
Which brought him here today - as a personal friend of Darren, the team leader, it was Byron who'd been appointed by the firm to oversee the project financially, and Byron to whom the proud scientists were about to demonstrate their new toy and justify another year's worth of grant money.
The set-up was crude enough to be very off-putting, now he was here; wires and components, in several cases, were held together by duct tape; bare cables trailed haphazardly all around the hot and overcrowded room; and most of the medical and technical staff were ignoring their apparatus, spending their time energetically discussing the local football team's poor run of luck, giving Byron no confidence that he was in safe hands. Worse, while a lot of the equipment was brand new, several pieces - including most of the medical equipment - were old, grimy, and judging from the occasional curse and *slam* of fists against plastic, were also highly temperamental.
Darren laid back as the ferret left the medical staff to get Darren hooked up. "Susan's told you what this involves, I take it?"
Byron almost nodded again before remembering not to move. "Yes... she did", he said, hesitantly.
Darren chuckled again. "You didn't understand a word of it, then?"
"No! I mean, Yes, I did, but, ah..."
"She's spent all her life making diagnostic machines. She forgets that most people don't have a medical degree." Darren gave a derisory snort, making his opinion of the ferret clear. "Maybe I should give you a refresher, in layman's terms."
Byron laughed. "That might help, yeah."
"Okay, this contraption around your head is your VR helmet..."
"'Layman', Darren, not 'moron'", Byron interrupted, sardonically.
"... which uses direct magnetic induction to alter the electrolyte balance of the brain to reroute sensory and motor function while sensing EEG activity to deliver a full-immersion experience by cross-stimulation of consciousness-parsing in the temporal lobes", blurted Darren, crossly.
Byron stayed silent for a moment, not so much blinded by science as struck dumb by it.
"Aww, did I go a bit fast with that explanation?" taunted Darren, good-humouredly. "Perhaps I should tell it my own way, *if* that's okay with you?"
"Okay, you win", shrugged Byron, putting on a mock-dejected expression. "Let's hear the 'for Dummies' version."
"Right, as I was going to say - your brain is made up of neurons; that means, tiny cells that act like the wires on a printed circuit board. Their biggest job is to relay electrical signals from one part of the brain to another. But, they're not reliably linked; your eyes feed information to one part of your brain, but your ears feed into another. So, there needs to be something to link all these little tidbits of data together quickly, so you can get an idea of what's going on around you reliably and immediately. With me so far?"
"Yup"
"Well, the data gets parsed together - joined up into a coherent picture of the world - in your frontal lobes. That picture of the world is, by and large, you; that's your consciousness, the assembled sum of everything you're experiencing. So, by manipulating the electrical signals feeding in to your frontal lobes, using the headset's precision electromagnets and all this computer hardware, we can block off your awareness of this room, and create an illusory world in your head. Your body is sitting back in this chair, but in your mind, you're off saving the world like James Bond; flying a spitfire in world war two; fighting the Mongol Hordes in the 13th Century; anything you can think of, you can do, in theory."
"Yeah, I remember that last part from the presentation you gave the Board last year." He gave a slightly derisory snort. "And the year before that, come to think. Never mind, just go through the safety brief again; how do I get out if anything goes wrong?"
"You just focus really hard on leaving, and it'll send an alert to the medical team who'll bring us both out immediately. They'll also be monitoring our vital signs, as you can see, so the moment either of us get into risky territory, they'll pull us out. On the other hand, if it's not an emergency, just tell me you want to go. I'll be with you while you explore - the program makes sure I'm within line of sight at all times - and I have full access to the program's innards; I'll let us out if we need to go."
"Right." Byron sounded a bit less certain. "Look, I'm a little worried; if this gizmo's zapping my brain with electricity, is there any... you know, any risk? What if there's a loose wire somewhere and it zaps too hard? I might wake up a different person!"
Darren laughed. "Can't happen. The electric power flowing through these things is lower than a watch battery, so there's no chance of damage, and besides, what you're referring to as 'you' is the structure of your brain, not the electrical signals themselves. It's totally safe."
Byron grimaced, doubtfully. "It just sounds too... simple."
Darren guffawed. "Simple? All this?!"
Byron coughed with embarrassed amusement. "Wrong word. Look, you promise on your honour this is completely safe?"
"Hell, yes. I'd swear on my mother's grave."
Byron thought a moment. "Um, your mother's alive."
Darren gave a dismissive wave. "Not the point. It's completely fine, trust me. I've done this dozens of times", he lied. He'd only done this twice, and something had gone wrong both times. But sometimes, you just have to swallow your pride, and pray hard that it all works when the investors want to test it.
Byron let out a deep breath. "Okay. What's this game going to be?"
"Well, it's not a game as such; it's a demonstration of the adaptive software functionality we briefed the Board about, a month or two back. Basically, it's a piece of software that should respond to mental commands - think about what you want, and the software will interpret it, and give it to you. It takes a bit of practice to get used to, but it's great fun when you've got the hang of it. At first, just ask me, and I'll work the system for you; we'll get you practicing later."
"Whoa, whoa, explain that again? This thing can read what I'm thinking too?!" Byron was suddenly a lot less certain about the experience.
"Don't be such a misery!" Darren exclaimed, chiding. "It *can*, but the data's not stored or represented outside the game. Don't worry, nobody's going to trawl through your head for your bank account numbers - or see anything you don't want them seeing, either."
"All done", interjected a medical orderly, examining the vital sign monitors and ticking something off a checklist, "You're okay to go whenever you're ready."
"Ready, Byron?" asked Darren.
Byron took in a deep breath. "Yes." He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will himself to calmness.
"Switch on in three," came the ferret's voice from the far side of the room, over the hum of the computers and the rhythmic beeps of the heart rate monitors, "...two..."
"Relax, Byron, I've done this before. It'll be fine."
"...one..."
Byron waited for several extra seconds, wondering why the ferret wasn't continuing.
"You going to open your eyes, Byron?"
"Darren?" Byron was confused for a moment; Darren's voice was coming from a different direction than it had just a moment before.
"Knock it off, and open your eyes. We're in."
Byron opened his eyes, cautiously, and experienced a moment of sudden, terrifying dislocation - like waking up from a dream of falling.
"Oh, geez!" he exclaimed, stumbling forward, losing his balance instantly. His mental image of his body was thrown off track as he saw he was standing upright; he wasn't sitting, strapped up to a bulky machine, in a stuffy laboratory. He wasn't even dressed in his previously casual clothes; he was in his full custom-tailored business suit, steel briefcase in his hand.
"...the fuck?!" he said, bewildered, looking down at himself, and around at the featureless, grey, ten-foot-cube of a room he now shared with Darren - still shirtless, in fact dressed exactly as Byron had last seen him, minus the electrodes.
Darren sighed. "This happens sometimes. You're obviously thinking about business, what with this being a business trip, so the program's picked up on that and put you in your business suit. You can change clothes any time, just by thinking about it. Watch..."
Darren made a grab at thin air in front of him, and made a motion like he was taking something off a coat hanger; Byron was startled in spite of himself when Darren's shirt appeared in Darren's hand, and he slipped it quickly on, buttoning it.
"I find that going through the motions makes it easier to visualise, but you can try whatever works."
Byron started to fidget nervously, a little awed at the situation. This machine would be an avid gamer's dream come true, hopefully soon - Byron certainly planned to get one as soon as possible.
A thought struck him. "Darren... why are we stuck in a grey box?" he asked. "There's no door, or anything."
Darren rolled his eyes. "This is just the waiting room. We've not started the program yet. What would you like to have a try at? Maybe... how about a shoot-'em-up?"
Before Byron could answer, his briefcase had vanished, and across his shoulder was slung a revolver in a 19th-century leather holster. He was standing on a dusty road through a ramshackle desert town, a tumbleweed blowing gently past in the warm breeze. The fierce heat of the midday sun beat down on him.
The sense of reality was incredible; he felt the sand between his toes, the dust on the breeze tickle his nose, the warm air against his skin. He could smell horses; woodsmoke; sweat; something else, tangy and faintly reminiscent of hospital disinfectant.
He looked around a moment, and saw Darren standing outside a building with a saloon-style swing door - and, in fact, above Darren's head hung a sign with the word 'Saloon' painted in cracked and faded lettering.
"Darren? Explanation, please?" he asked, pretty sure that he already knew what Darren was showing him.
Ahead of him in the road, he saw a short fox, wearing a full cowboy outfit and a disdainful sneer, standing with a similar revolver at his hip about twenty paces away.
"Give it a try! Go on - *Draw*!" shouted Darren, suddenly.
The fox reacted immediately, while Byron was still struggling to keep up with events; Byron hadn't even managed to open the holster's flap before he heard the crack of the other's gunshot. To his shock and dismay, he felt a sudden stab of pain from the left side of his chest, and stumbled back a step off-balance as the shot hit him.
He screamed, stricken with sudden panic, as his whole body went suddenly numb. He clutched at the wound and felt fresh blood welling up from the gaping hole in his body; he dropped to his knees, and started to feel light-headed and faint.
Suddenly, the scene faded instantaneously to something else; he wasn't kneeling on a dusty road in the Wild West, but on the concrete beside a gloriously sunlit, Olympic-sized swimming pool in front of a palm-frond-shaded hotel by a sandy beach. He felt Darren's hand on his shoulder.
"Whoa, whoa. It's okay. Remember, it's just a game."
Byron examined his hands, and his chest, and found, to his relief, no sign of blood, nor entry wound.
He leapt to his feet, shaking the hand off as the shock turned to anger. "Fucking hell, Darren, you could have warned me! You got me shot!"
Darren held up his hands in placation. "Look, I'm trying to show off all the features, and that's a feature! Pain damping, you see? Once the pain and discomfort reaches a certain threshold, the software stops creating the sensation - in fact, it starts damping it down. You felt numb, right?"
Byron thought carefully, and nodded slowly. "Yeah."
"There you go, then. The software damps nerve signals for a moment, and stimulates a flood of endorphins to counter the shock - endorphins, you know, they're a chemical in your brain that makes you relax." Darren paused. Then he admitted sheepishly, "Well, it works in theory. Toning down the realism's on the to-do list; seeing the injuries can be a bit... Look, I'm sorry, you're right, I should have warned you."
Byron's anger dissipated quickly. "Ah, no harm done. Just remember next time, okay?"
"Agreed", replied Darren quickly, before trying to change the topic. "So, time for you to decide what to try next." Darren smirked. "You could get your own back, if you want - a quick round of Cowboys and Indians, man to man?" He mimed a gun with his middle and index fingers, aiming it at Byron.
Byron shook his head. "I don't really like shooting games -and I'm not sure I want to go through that again." He looked around, taking in the scenery. "What else does this program do?"
"Anything you want. Think of something - or somewhere, or somewhen. Anything in your head, can happen, remember."
"Wow. Hmm... you'd think it would be easy, but I'm drawing a blank..." mused Byron, scratching absently at his flank. Then he paused, rubbed at his stomach, and whispered, "Huh?"
Byron reached down and pulled his shirt up, looking at his abdomen. "But... my scar's gone!"
"Er..." stuttered Darren a moment, a little taken aback at the unexpected situation. "Yes, it does seem to have." He paused, composing himself. "Well, the program doesn't know what you look like, as such; it just picks up what you *want* to look like, or think you do look like, and uses that as your base image. If you concentrate, you could change into anything - a lion, a wolf, a... a palm tree, a sofa, an overdue gas bill with a coffee stain on it; absolutely anything."
Byron didn't seem to be listening. "Pity there isn't a dating option. It'd be a great way to hook up."
Darren shook his head, amusedly. "Byron, what in the world makes you think you need your looks enhancing? You're already a stud. Any woman you met in a virtual dating system would probably think you were lying about yourself and head off with someone else. But hey, if you want, why not try it out? Just think."
Byron looked perplexed. "Huh? I thought it was just us in here?"
Darren arched an eyebrow, wondering if he should really be needling Byron during the tech demo - but it was just a joke, really.
"You could conjure up the most beautiful woman you've ever dreamed, with a simple thought, and make her fall in love with you. She'd just be an NPC - oops, sorry, I mean non-player character - but the software can get her to do anything you could imagine." Darren wiggled his eyeridges suggestively. "We're expecting that option to make this a hot seller. Ah, no pun intended." He paused, waiting for Byron's usual snappy comeback.
"I wouldn't have thought you'd go for anything that sad and juvenile", Byron replied, with a grimace of disdain as he tucked his shirt back in.
Darren was stung onto the defensive by the remark. "Hey, it's not like anyone will ever know. You're not being recorded, remember?"
"Don't you have to stay nearby at all times in here, or something? The program keeps us within sight at all times?" countered Byron, irritated.
"Uh, well, yes, I suppose..." Darren replied, suddenly feeling a fool.
"Then *you'd* know, for a start. That's just... creepy." He shook his head vigorously. "No way."
From somewhere in the deepest, darkest recesses of his head, Darren suddenly formed a mental image; Eliza, a stoat, his first girlfriend, lying naked on one of these pool chairs, her chocolate-brown furred breasts jiggling excitedly, as Byron, equally naked, clambered atop her, a proud and jutting erection firmly signalling his intentions...
Darren found the thought unexpectedly erotic, but quickly suppressed the thought; that was something he definitely didn't want the software to pick up on!
But trying not to think about something was a sure-fire way of keeping it in your head, lurking. To his surprise, he realised he wished, hopelessly, that he could see it happen - and then, a sudden, darker urge, to try and *make* it happen. He had total access to the program in here; like a deity lording over his creation. Byron, treated right, could become... a plaything. Not a person; a challenge.
"You okay?" asked Byron, noting Darren's vacant stare.
"Huh? Yeah. Just wondering what to show you next" Darren half-lied, as his thoughts raced on.
He'd not been completely open with Byron about the system's capacity; they were good friends, but Byron was honour-bound to report any flaws back to the other investors. While the system couldn't exactly scramble someone's brain completely and permanently, it could do a few unexpected and arguably immoral things - like electrically stimulating the Substantia Nigra, the region of the brain which controlled the release of dopamine, which in turn was the neurochemical which causes happiness and satisfaction, and in higher doses, ecstasy and joy.
Darren, as the administrator, could force the system to stimulate the pleasure centre of Byron's brain; he'd been sorely tempted to do exactly that, just a touch, to heighten Byron's impression of the program and make sure the funding kept coming, but hadn't had the nerve to go through with it.
Now, that barely-suppressed temptation suddenly resurfaced. He had the ability to manipulate Byron on a fundamental level, without his knowledge... Now *that* thought was erotic - supreme power, control over the mind of another. It wasn't possible, quite, to specify and cause particular emotions and desires - but with a few psychological tricks, a few carefully planted ideas, he could make Byron do almost... anything.
Darren's mind could happily supply Eliza, make her as winsomely attractive as he remembered her, and make her willing to submit to Byron's hopefully-amorous advances; and, with the right stimulus, a few strategic floods of dopamine at the right moment, he could prod Byron towards wanting to do it, even if Darren was there watching. With that aggressive, druglike pleasure overwhelming a few key decision points, he could even make Byron actively take pleasure in doing what, only moments ago, he'd been horrified by the thought of.
As far as Byron was concerned, it would be his own decision; he would only be doing what was making him feel good at the time, and would later rationalise the out-of-character act as a random impulse, a strange one-time aberration, and get on with his life.
Right here, right now, Darren had no oversight, no watchers, no-one to interfere; nobody would ever know. As a precaution, he could even turn up the current to disrupt Byron's temporal cortex a little - stop long-term memory formation; he'd remember events for a few minutes, then would just have a vague impression that he'd really enjoyed himself. It was foolproof. Completely foolproof.
Darren cracked a smile. "How about a swim? See how the system handles the sensation of water? Hey, in fact, how about a swimming race?"
Byron looked quizzical. "I thought you couldn't swim?"
"I can't, but between us, we can conjure up a decent challenge. C'mon, give it a try", Darren prompted.
Byron pondered for a moment, uncertainly. Time to test the water, Darren thought.
"Think about it; lovely warm water, hot sunshine, a chance to show off..." Darren planted the seed of an idea, waited a second or so for it to sink in, then with a mental command, gently prompted the software to give Byron an endorphin spike - just a small one, just a gentle push.
Darren kept his face passive as he watched Byron's attitude shift, quickly but subtly, as the idea became more appealing. "Hmm... well, sure, why not?" Byron smiled.
"Superb! You'd best get changed, you're not exactly dressed for it", Darren gestured at Byron's full business suit.
Byron looked around, nodding. "Wait a minute - there's no changing room?"
Darren sighed. "Byron, use your imagination." Byron gave him an uncomprehending look. Darren laughed, "No, I mean, literally. Remember, you can change your clothes however you want, whenever you want. Just concentrate and it'll happen. Here, I'll show you..."
Darren pondered a moment, and abruptly instead of the business suit, Byron was wearing a knee-length pair of swimming shorts; plain and grey, just like Darren remembered Byron using once on a class trip to the beach after graduating.
As Byron examined his changed costume, Darren concentrated on making an opponent; forming in his mind's eye a picture of Eliza, at her most appealing, and clad in a tight bikini. She would make a good partner for Byron - for swimming, at least, and hopefully more afterward.
Eliza appeared, breasts as large and squeezable as he remembered them; he'd put her in a black costume, which blended well into her fur and made it appear, at a glance, almost like she wasn't wearing anything.
A thought struck him suddenly, and he smiled with wicked glee; concentrating a moment, he populated the poolside with dozens more luscious and scantily-clad women, all watching Byron eagerly.
Byron looked up and saw them; his face coloured in a blush. "W...what's this?!" he stammered, surprised.
"Nothing to do with me", lied Darren, starting the system up, and lightly tickling Byron's pleasure centres. "Maybe you're wanting a crowd to cheer you on."
"It's a... um... They're all women", Byron looked over the assembled throng, eyes wide.
"Well, you've just got a new, perfect body. You're probably liking the idea of showing it off, you usually do." Darren heightened the dopamine, looking for the magic tipping point to get Byron hooked on the suggestion.
Byron looked slightly perturbed for a moment. Then he smiled. "You know, it is kinda fun."
Darren realised that he was staring at Byron's chest, examining the scales there, and admiring the rippling muscles underneath. He shook his head and looked away.
"Well, no sense in waiting around!" Darren interjected, forcing a smile and making eye contact. "If you want to get to one of the lanes, I'll call it. One length, first one to climb out the far side, wins!"
Byron and Eliza went obediently to the marked swimming lanes that Darren had just forced into existence. Darren followed closely behind, watching the way the wingless dragon's back moved as his shoulders swayed, Byron deliberately putting on an arrogant swagger for his crowd. Darren's grin broadened; Byron was such a show-off, this was hardly even a challenge.
"Okay", said Darren, watching as the muscles of Byron's digitigrade legs tensed as he readied to jump into the water. "Ready... set... go!"
The pair dived in; Byron shot away almost like a bullet, surprising Darren, who prompted Eliza to speed up to keep things fair - but not too much; if Byron lost, he might decide to try something else once he was on the far side of the pool, away from Darren. Out of Darren's earshot meant that Darren couldn't verbally plant any more suggestions, effectively, Byron would be independent again; the danger gave Darren a secret thrill.
The pair reached the far side of the pool almost simultaneously, and clambered out; Darren slowed Eliza for a crucial moment, letting Byron win the first round.
To his surprise, Byron gave a whoop of victory, and struck an Adonis-like victory pose, waving at the spectators nearby. Darren had another wicked thought, and sent Byron a spike of happiness, at the same moment as he made the crowd give a round of applause. There - now Byron was taking more pleasure in strutting his stuff, than in the swim, or the victory.
He waited for perhaps twenty seconds, straining his eyes to watch the scene at the far end, before he decided to carry on.
"Ready for the return lap, champ?" he shouted down the pool.
Byron gave an overly dramatic wave to his now-adoring fans, before giving a thumbs-up in Darren's direction and moving back to the poolside, ready for the next race.
"Ready... set... go!" shouted Darren, watching as the pair dived back in and sped toward him.
Darren took a seat on the nearest reclining chair, waiting for their arrival; it was a pity, he mused, that he'd made Byron wear a swimming costume as large and baggy as that. Something a little smaller, a little more revealing, would be so much more delicious....
It wasn't until Byron arrived - in the lead, again - that Darren realised something was different. He nearly choked as he saw that during the swim, Byron's long and shapeless swim shorts had changed; Byron was now clad only in a tight, red Speedo, which left little to the imagination. Byron was as well-endowed as Darren had imagined earlier. Had Darren done that without meaning to - or had Byron taken the initiative?
Darren watched as Byron did a bow to the crowd, and flexed his muscles for them. Darren, almost drooling at the spectacle, rewarded him with another rush of pleasure, and watched Byron's grin broaden. A few moments later, Byron stopped suddenly, abandoning his pose; abruptly, he looked ashamed, not happy.
Darren realised that Byron's Speedo was stirring perceptibly, the fabric rising as Byron's penis stirred to life under the stimulation Darren was giving him. Oh, yes, thought Darren; the plan was coming together. He dialled the dopamine up a level; Byron gave a slight groan, and his nervousness disappeared instantly. With a half-lidded glance over the adulating crowd, he stretched one hand behind his head, and put the other to his crotch, cupping his balls through the fabric, lewdly showing off the entirety of his body.
With a sudden start, Darren realised that the sight was affecting him more than he'd expected; his hemipenes were slipping from the vent between his legs, hardening inexorably. The erotic rush of power had gone to his head; seeing how in mere minutes he'd turned Byron from a slightly flirty womaniser into an outright exhibitionist, turned him on. He'd expected to be aroused when it came to watching Byron do the dirty with Eliza - but despite all the little warning signs, he'd not quite expected the thought of Byron, alone, to be so enticing.
Sexuality be damned; he realised that he wanted more. Byron had always been better looking than Darren; more sociable, better liked, richer and more successful. Now, Darren found the jealous allure of power over this man, more seductive than anything he'd ever thought of before.
He wanted to change Byron completely, if only for a few minutes, and make Byron submit to his needs. He had a sudden, intensely erotic image of Byron on his knees, slobbering and slavering at Darren's twin cocks, worshipping Darren's body the way Byron tempted everyone to worship his.
Darren hadn't expected to find the potential for feelings of attraction to another man inside himself; but, once formed, the temptation was too great to just ignore. It would be tricky; a woman, with Darren watching, he might just about persuade Byron into - but Byron actually giving him a blow job? That would take some careful nudging. Or perhaps, a bit of overkill - or both.
"Byron?" he asked, watching Byron's half-erect penis swelling the Speedo's fabric. With a thought, he dismissed the crowd; he could make Byron want what was coming, but he didn't want anyone seeing - not even virtual people, little more than scenery. As he did so, he started to disrupt Byron's long-term memory, to ensure the dragon wouldn't later remember any details from this point onward to the end of the program.
Byron was slow to respond to Darren's query, and Darren scaled back the stimulation, letting Byron back down from the exhibitionism.
"Byron?" He repeated.
Byron turned, eyes looking slightly glazed and distant. "Um, where did everyone go? I was enjoying that..."
Darren gestured at Bryon's crotch. "So I see. I thought it might be time for a break. *That* is more than I expected."
Byron looked down, and blushed. "Yeah. It's such a rush, you know? Everything's so real, but it's not real, so I figured..." he shrugged, dramatically, making no effort to cover his swollen cock despite his embarrassment, "what the hell, it's not like I can get arrested for public indecency in here!"
Darren gave a half-smile, forcing his glee into submission. Byron was happily rationalising Darren's meddling in his thought processes, as his own ideas; this was even easier than Darren had predicted.
"You liked showing off for the crowd, then? Really?" Darren asked, killing the dopamine entirely, quite suddenly.
Byron's obvious enjoyment suddenly dissipated like a puff of smoke; his blush deepened, and he looked away from Darren. The wonderful, half-hard cock started to shrivel as Darren watched, a little sadly. But no problem; it would be back with a vengeance in a minute.
"I... um... I mean..." Byron stammered, looking like a scolded schoolboy.
"I hadn't expected you to enjoy anything so puerile as showing your todger to a bunch of fake ladies. No, I think you wanted to show off to someone real - it was me, wasn't it?" prompted Darren. He waited a moment for the idea to sink through Byron's obvious surprise, before he started to quickly ramp up the stimulation once again.
Byron gave a sharp inhalation as the wave hit. "Umm..." he said, uncertainly.
"Byron, we've known each other for years. I've seen the way you look at me sometimes", Darren lied, "and I think you've been attracted to me for quite a while." He paused, while he gave Byron a small but exhilarating burst of joy, to coincide with his words. "I bet you've not even realised it yourself, have you?"
Byron didn't reply immediately; he looked like he was fighting some internal battle with himself. Then, at last, in a weak whisper, "But, I'm... I'm not gay. I'm not..."
"Maybe you're Bi, Byron", said Darren, playing with the rhyme. "If it's *just* me from the male gender you like the thought of, I'd think it was quite flattering." He heightened Byron's pleasure. "So, is it *just* me?"
"... I'm... not... well, you are... but..." Byron stammered.
Darren gave a sly smirk, and reached down to his jeans, unbuttoning them, and slowly unzipping the fly. He watched as Byron gulped, and, as Darren teased down the waistband of his boxer shorts, he slowly racked up the dopamine in Byron's brain, hoping to create the impression that Byron was enjoying the anticipation; whenever Byron's eyes flickered away, even for a moment, he killed the dopamine entirely, putting it back as soon as Byron returned his eyes to Darren's crotch.
Sure enough, within a few seconds of almost involuntary glancing, Byron's eyes locked on and kept staring, albeit still nervous and uncertainly, as Darren pulled both of his stiff, leaking hemipenes out from his increasingly damp underwear. Darren gave his left hemipene a quick stroke, raising his hand after to let Byron see the thin strands of viscous fluid connecting his fingers to his throbbing maleness.
"Like you said, there's no harm in doing anything, here. It'll be our little secret; I can see you want me..." Darren made eye contact, and notched up Byron's pleasure another small step. "You wanted me to admire your body... you see what your body's done to me? You can't just leave it at that, you cock-tease. C'mon, Byron, remember, just our little secret - take a taste. You'll
Byron still looked uncertain, but he took a few short paces forward, standing in front of Darren, and looking down at Darren's exposed malenesses with a conflicted expression. Darren smiled evilly, and stood, letting his jeans fall to his ankles. His right hand grasped Byron's muscular flank where his scar had been, and kneaded at the solid bulk there, admiring the water-slick scales. Meanwhile his other hand, extending one precum-slick finger, slipped between Byron's uncomplaining lips, forcing the powerful dragon to taste him; simultaneously, he gave Byron the biggest burst of pleasure he'd dared yet, and kept it high. Give in, he willed; think only that my taste makes you *happy*...
Byron's expression glazed over, and Darren felt a surge of delight as Byron's tongue lapped at his finger to get more of the precum off it. He kept still a moment, letting Byron suckle, before he gently withdrew the hand, watching in satisfaction as Byron's breathing deepened in pleasure.
"Whoa, there, big guy." He smiled. "There's more where that came from - but not from there." As he spoke, his precum-damped palm snaked down between their bodies, and gave Byron's slowly hardening cock a squeeze through the fabric of his trunks. Byron shuddered, and made a slight whimper; Darren didn't need to use mind tricks to make this act pleasurable.
Byron's hands came up to rest on Darren's shoulders, and gently pushed the lizard back down onto the low poolside chair, as Byron dropped to his knees on the hard concrete in front of him. Darren watched as the powerful, almost painfully handsome dragon licked his lips, and stared with unadorned lust at Darren's crotch as if it were the most beautiful thing in the world, despite being nothing special for a reptile.
This must be how Byron feels all the time, thought Darren; being desired was so seductive, and frankly alien to him, it was almost unbearable for Darren.
Byron leaned down low, and engulfed both of Darren's hemipenes in his cavernous maw, lapping gently at them, teasing the flesh lightly.
"Yesss..." Darren hissed, arching his back. "...you love my body, you want it, you've always wanted it... You want me to desire you, you want to suck my seed from my cocks and know it was all because of you... the greatest compliment... suck! Suck me!" Darren moaned, desperately, scarcely able to concentrate on amplifying Byron's pleasure any more; he set it high, and left it there a long moment.
Byron evidently heard, and in his addled state, was compelled to agree; he started to suck on Darren's twin cocks like straws, drawing the precum out and rolling it around his tongue, as if savouring some exotic cocktail. Darren panted heavily; this was already, almost, too much.
"You built your body up to entice me, just me! You longed for me to touch you, caress you, cum over your tongue! Yes!" Darren said, louder, putting both his hands on Byron's broad shoulders and squeezing at the firm muscles. All the while, he was raising Byron's pleasure even higher, listening to Byron groan in bliss, getting quickly beyond rational thought.
He was startled when Byron stopped sucking, quite suddenly; his surprise turned to panic as one of Byron's powerful hands pushed him flat on his back on the reclining chair, while Byron's other hand pulled his boxer shorts down roughly, bending Darren's tail awkwardly for a painful moment.
He suddenly knew what Byron was planning; taking Darren's anal virginity, the culmination of the fantasy that Darren himself had planted and artificially heightened beyond sane proportions. The thought flashed across his mind in the instant that Byron's strong hands tore at the front of Darren's shirt, ripping open the seam, and leaving Darren abruptly, terrifyingly naked.
"No! Stop!" Darren shouted, and it took him a moment before he had the presence of mind to totally halt the amplified pleasure he was forcing on Byron.
Byron tossed the torn fabric aside, but the slightly mad glint in his eye was already fading to a look of confusion, and even horror. He just knelt there, paralysed and stunned.
"D...Darren, I... I don't know what came over me! I'm so sorry, I..." Byron spluttered, a thin strand of Darren's precum dribbling down his chin.
Darren took a deep breath, trying to recover his composure. He had to work fast and make sure Byron's horror didn't turn to suspicion, or an immediate desire to leave the VR world.
"No... it's okay... you just got bit carried away...", reassured Darren, while his thoughts ran in the opposite direction. This couldn't just be allowed to pass without any consequence; no, an eye for an eye. It should be Byron flat on his back, with Darren taking him, not the other way around - and better, Byron would love every second of it. Byron had always been more of a man than Darren; now it was time to turn the tables.
"You wanted to be with me, like you've been with your girlfriends over the years. Well, I'm touched... but I don't like that kind of thing." Darren looked Byron right in the eye. "Would you?"
"Um..." Byron's erection, killed by the shock of what he'd almost done, and unsustained by Darren's tampering, was deflating rapidly. "I... I guess I wouldn't..."
"No, I bet you do, deep down. I bet you've dreamed of being the one being taken, roughly, dominated like you do to your little women. Am I right?" Darren started the dopamine again, a sudden spike at the idea; Byron would soon want exactly that.
"N...no..." started Byron, the ambivalent expression returning as his negative answer suddenly sounded a lot less certain.
"What do you like your women to do when you're getting ready to fuck them, Byron?" Darren smiled, wickedly. "I bet you like them to lie back, and strike a sexy pose to turn you on. Don't you? Tell me what you want them to do... Show me..."
He gave Byron a surge of pleasure at the suggestion, and scooted over to the end of the reclining chair, patting the towel-covered seat with his hand, indicating for Byron to sit.
Byron's uncertainty dissolved back to that lusty look he'd had only moments before, and he scrambled up to sit where Darren indicated. Darren, with a smile, gently pushed Byron backward, until the dragon's broad shoulders met the back of the recliner.
"Do you like them to pose for you?" said Darren suggestively, hoping that Byron had the idea by now.
He seemed to; he gave a half-smile. "Yes..." he said, softly, pulling his legs up onto the chair as well, lying back, and relaxing.
"If I was you, Byron... if you were the most beautiful woman in the world... what would you want her to do for you right now?" He hit Byron with a spike of pure joy, and watched the dragon's expression fade totally back into absent-minded lust, as his half-mast penis surged back to full hardness.
"I'd..." he began, slowly. Then he shifted his weight onto his side, curled his tail up between his legs, and half-rolled over. "...I'd want her to be coy... to make it feel like a challenge..." He smiled, uncertainly, as if nervous - but this time, it was an act.
This was better and better - all the years of repressed jealously coming to the fore, Darren loved watching his friend submit to this treatment. Now, Byron was not only playing along - he was even reading Darren the script! The ultimate role reversal was about to be handed to over on a plate, the sweetest irony.
Darren leered back, kicking off his jeans and underwear to leave him completely naked. "What would you do?"
Byron gulped. "I'd... *tell* her to lie back..."
"Lie back!" Darren said, commanding, trying his best to imitate Byron's gruff tone.
Byron jumped, then rolled onto his back again, resting his head on his hands, and clenching his knees together. "I'd... I'd spread her legs gently, *dare* her to protest that she didn't want me..."
Darren grinned as he grabbed Byron's muscular thighs and forced them apart; it was hard work, setting his scrawny arms against those powerful muscles, but he managed it. He found himself regarding Byron's tented, precum-stained Speedos, just enough fabric to deliciously conceal the straining organ beneath.
"I'd take the lead, like every man should; pull down her panties, and leave her at my mercy..." Byron breathed, huskily, eyes half-lidded in pleasure.
Darren reached carefully for the waistband of Byron's much-abused swimming trunks, and carefully pulled them up to release the seven-inch, rock solid cock beneath them. Darren regarded it with lusty awe as he peeled the trunks down over the ample testicles, and the gentle creases of the dragon's anus just below them on the underside of his tail. He took a step back, pulling the damp garment quickly away from the dragon's body, lifting the dead weight of Bryon's unmoving legs and limp tail as he did so, pulling them open again as the trunks came free with a snap, dissolving into the simulation as he discarded them.
"You'd want her to *beg* for you, *plead* you to show her what a *real* man's made of!" Darren prompted, grasping at his erect, dripping hemipenes, giving Byron a rush at the idea. This time he didn't much care what the dragon did in bed; but he knew that this wouldn't be complete until Byron was begging for Darren to dominate him.
"I'd rub myself against her until she was wet with the thought of me. I'd tease her, until she begged for me, called my name..." finished Byron, eagerly.
Darren climbed slowly up the dragon's body, hovering inches above it, and letting his hemipenes drag lightly against the scales of Byron's tail, leaving a thin trail of precum there. He stopped as he felt his twin cocks collide with Byron's single, larger one, placing both hands on Byron's chest to support his weight, rubbing at the scales, feeling Byron's heart thumping with excitement.
Lowering himself, he gently traced the tip of his hemipenes down Byron's testicles, lower, and circled around beneath them until he felt his right hemipene catch slightly in the folds of Byron's sphincter. He adjusted his weight, sitting upright, resting his weight on the dragon's thick, prone tail. He pushed slightly forward, almost hard enough to penetrate, and gave Byron a surge of dopamine ecstasy, watching the dragon's muscles tense as Byron moaned happily.
"I...I'd..." Byron took a deep breath, almost beyond speech all of a sudden.
Darren took over. "You'd wait for her to beg you to stick your cock in her, use her for your pleasure, make her yours, make her tell you how much she wanted your cum inside her..."
"Yes!" breathed Byron, and Darren felt Byron's cock throb against his belly.
"Tell me!" Darren shouted, pressing his tip harder against Byron's entrance.
Byron gasped. "Stick it in me! Take me! I want you! I'm yours! Please! I need your cum inside me!" He looked Darren straight in the eye, the statement muddled, still slightly dazed and confused, but completely honest and heartfelt. "Please..."
Darren smirked, and increased his pressure, as well as stimulating Byron's pleasure still further, leaving it at almost unimaginable levels to override any discomfort or doubt Byron might still entertain.
Byron's tail hole parted suddenly, and Darren's right hemipene plunged into the hot, almost silky-smooth tunnel beyond.
He hilted in the first thrust, diving deep, grabbing firm hold of Byron's arms as if his meagre body could keep the dragon pinned down. Byron gave a cry of intense pleasure as Darren slid into him; it was the most erotic sound Darren could ever remember - when he'd slept with his old girlfriends, he'd never felt this sweet tinge of victory, nor the rush of power, and they had never been this tight or this needy!
Without giving Byron time to adjust, Darren pulled back, and thrust again, stimulating Byron's pleasure centres as hard as he could, listening to Byron gasp at the sensations. Suddenly Byron's hands flew down from beneath his head, grasping at his thighs, pulling them up and back, spreading his legs wider. His eyes pleaded wordlessly for Darren to push deeper, harder; his tail curled upwards, wrapping around Darren's stomach and chest, hugging him as he ploughed into the dragon's tail hole.
Darren wasted no time giving Byron exactly what he'd inspired the dragon to want; he started to push in faster, brutally hard, scales slapping against scales as his next thrust reached its apex.
He was startled when, as he started to withdraw for a third time, Byron's cock bucked in front of him, and sprayed that unbearably sexy stomach with streamers of pale cum. The already exquisite passage caressing his hemipene, jerked tighter with each spurt from Byron, and the massive dragon grunted desperately in pleasure. Perhaps he'd overdone the stimulation, Darren thought; he'd given Byron a hair trigger.
"Yes! I'd bring... her to orgasm... a dozen times... a hundred times... before I was done.... Before I'd finished... taking my pleasure... don't stop... harder!" huffed Byron, breathlessly, between each of the fading spurts of his orgasm.
Darren was only too happy to oblige, and continued, thrusting through the almost unbearably tight, spasming ring of muscle. He decided to leave Byron's pleasure as high as he could push it; this should be fun.
He could feel his orgasm starting to build up, even as Byron cried out again.
"D...D...Darren! Oh, Darren! Keep going... I... I... feel... Ah!" the burly dragon cried, squeezing the lizard harder with his tail and his rectum both as his cock exploded for a second time, barely a minute since his first. The sudden resurgence in the clenching of that burning, hot passage sent Darren over the edge, and before Byron's flow had slowed to a trickle, Darren felt a kick of orgasmic bliss as his cock throbbed and flung his semen hard into the dragon's deep, virgin recesses, his incoherent hisses joining Byron's moaning as the dragon's whole body shook and squirmed in the extreme throes of his heightened orgasmic bliss.
Darren paused a long moment, getting his breath back, and taking a momentary opportunity to lower Byron's frantically lusty state back to mere contentment. Byron, coming down from the dopamine-induced high, sighed in satisfaction.
But Darren wasn't finished yet. Only one of his girlfriends - a fellow reptile - had been equipped to take both his hemipenes at once, before, but it was the best sensation he'd ever had, until now. There was only one way this could be better; this wasn't a real body, and nor was Byron's. If Darren wanted, they would fit, and he'd make Byron scream his name again.
He pulled back slightly until the tip of his hemipene was only barely inside Byron's body, and grabbed both hemipenes in one hand, pressing them together. He paused a moment to rub some of Byron's excess cum over them both, and then lined his left hemipene up as well. Byron looked at him, hopefully, no trace of reluctance or confusion left; the dragon pulled harder at his thighs, parting his legs as far as he could to give the lizard better access.
Darren leered at Byron's desperately needy expression, revelling that this time, he'd not even started the stimulation - Byron was looking forward to it all by himself this time.
"I'm not done yet", he said, simply, by way of explanation. With that, he pushed hard, and his second hemipene too squelched past Byron's abused, cum-covered anus. He sent Byron's pleasure right back up as high as he could manage, in the instant of penetration.
Byron gave a girlish squeal of joy, his cock bucking again as a third, shorter orgasm gripped him on the very first thrust; barely a trickle of watery cum emerged this time, his balls spent.
Darren gritted his teeth and ploughed on hard; Byron's tail hole almost seemed to be trying to swallow his groin, so eagerly was the dragon clenching his rectum around the invading organs. Between those clenched teeth, he began to whisper to Byron, loving seeing the dragon so helpless with delight.
"You need me... you've always needed me... you've never whacked off in your life, never slept with anyone or anything, without seeing this moment, *wishing* for me buried in you..."
"Darren! Oh, god!" screamed Byron, relinquishing his grip on his thigh so his hand could fly eagerly to his painfully swollen cock, pumping it hard. Byron shuddered as a fourth orgasm wracked his body; this one completely dry, nothing left in him to give.
As Darren rode out Byron's new orgasm, watching as the dragon's hand continued pumping at his abused penis exultantly, still unsatisfied, he wondered idly what that dopamine-fuelled bliss was like.
Byron had started weeping with joy, still crying Darren's name in a choked whisper with every exhalation. The dragon crossed his legs behind Darren's back, forcing the lizard's thrusts to go short and deep, even as those muscular arms reached up and pulled Darren into a wet, sticky embrace.
Darren felt Byron's huge cock pressed firmly into the scales of his belly, felt the dampness of Byron's cum-stained hand at his hack; heard Byron sobbing his name in joy; and felt the slimy residue of Byron's multiple orgasms sliding between their chest scales. He knew it was all for him, because of him, and knew that he had reduced Byron to this quivering, subservient piece of flesh.
He had to know what it was like; he concentrated, and willed the machine to stimulate his pleasure centres, just as hard as he was doing for Byron's, just for an instant.
It was like a cross between a kick to the head, an injection of lava straight into his veins, and everything happy and fun he'd ever done in his life, all rolled into a single disorienting burst. His whole body felt like it was burning up in an intense fire of ecstasy; even as he readied for his next thrust, he felt his twin orgasm approaching quickly, called up almost instantly by the surge of pleasure. It didn't feel like any other orgasm he'd ever had; this was a delicious, fulfilling sensation across the entirety of his body, making every cell and nerve ending quiver with the joy of it; it felt deeper somehow, like his very soul had leapt up and joined transcendentally into this unimaginable crescendo of bliss. Even as it flowed up through him, fast, he knew this was probably about to be the best moment in his life.
With a final thrust, he screamed in tortured joy as his hemipenes jumped and spurted, blowing so violently it was almost painful, filling Byron's already-seeded hole with still more cum until it overflowed down the great dragon's tail. He felt Byron's penis buck and throb, as Byron went into yet another orgasm at the sensation of being filled so fully.
Sated, Darren regretfully undid the stimulation on his own brain, and felt the fiery lust vanish almost at once. He started to wind down Byron's artificial state of nirvana, too, releasing him from control and back to independence and sanity.
"...I love you, Darren", Byron said, startling him.
"Huh?" he said, uncomprehendingly.
"I never knew it before, but this was so wonderful... I never realised how much I wanted you. I've never felt this way about anyone before. I love you, Darren! I love you!" cried Byron, squeezing the lizard closer to his body.
Oh, shit, thought Darren. "Um, no, I mean, um... maybe, you should think about it some? I mean, it's just a VR sim, right? It doesn't mean anything..."
Byron licked at his cheek. "Sim, reality, I don't care. Nothing else matters. That was the most intense I've... ever! I've always loved you, Darren, deep down, I've never really wanted anyone else... they were just flings, to pass the time... I've dreamed about this..."
How the hell do I get out of this one, Darren thought. He'd not thought this far ahead; he'd not considered the possibility that Byron might think that his strange behaviour, the intensity of the sex, might mean... hell, why did the idiot dragon have to rationalise it this way?
"Byron, let's... not do anything hasty... why don't we go back to reality, and talk about it a bit later?" Darren bluffed. In only a few minutes, he hoped, Byron would have forgotten every detail about what had happened in here. He'd ask, sure, but Darren could just lie. It was the best way, right?
Shit, he thought, suppose there's an investigation? He didn't know exactly what crime he'd just committed, but he was pretty damned sure he'd done *something* illegal.
Keep calm, he thought, and just play it cool.
Byron continued. "But I do love you. I've never felt so good, so happy, as lying here with your cocks in me..." Byron whispered, clenching his rear around Darren's softening hemipenes.
Darren gave a squeak of surprise. "Uh... we can talk later! Now, we'd best go!" said Darren, and willed them both out of the simulation, reluctantly relinquishing the delightful, soft squeeze of Byron's rectum.
Even as he awoke, he knew he'd cum in his pants; his genital slit felt wet and gummed up, and his half-everted penises were sore where the fabric had constricted them. He hoped to god he'd not sprouted too obvious a tent during... that. He'd never live it down if the staff knew he'd been having sex with one of their investors during a VR tech demonstration; he hoped the vital sign monitors couldn't tell whether a person was sexually active or just excited in a mundane way.
Susan, the ferret, strode over and started unbuckling him from the chair. "How did it go?" she asked, cheerily. Then she whispered lower, so that Byron wouldn't hear. "Was there any trouble? The pleasure/pain software was going crazy for a while there!"
"No!" said Darren, louder than he'd intended. Then his excuses flowed out in a panicked rush, "Well, maybe a few details to work out. Nothing much. I'll get to work on it later."
Susan seemed taken aback by his frightened response, and took it as a signal not to ask further. It took two uncomfortable, almost silent minutes as the staff unbuckled him and Byron from the machines. He sensed the growing unease amongst the staff about his behaviour, but he couldn't bring himself to care right now. Their panicky ignorance was better than the alternative.
As he stood, Byron strode, a little groggily, over to him. "Darren..."
Darren's heart thumped hard, and he tried to suppress his panic. "Yes?" he said, nonchalantly.
"I... I... damn, I was going to ask you something a minute ago, but I can't for the life of me remember what it was", Byron said, slowly, deep in thought, sounding like his old self again. "That's going to irritate me now. It was something important, I'm sure..."
Darren breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay. Um..." his nose suddenly picked up a faint hint of musk on the air; a distant memory of sex, his cocks ploughing into Byron's firm backside...
"I need to go to the bathroom!" Darren squeaked, before he dashed out of the room, startling most of its occupants.
He stepped into a cubicle in the men's room at the end of the corridor, locked it, dropped his pants, and pulled off some toilet paper to try and clean up the worst of the mess he'd made.
He heard the main door open behind him, and slow, heavy footfalls head into the cubicle next door.
Then Byron's voice sounded, "Darren? Wow, that VR is intense... um, I don't really remember much after the swim race, it's all gone a bit fuzzy. Is that normal?"
"Yeah, sure, nothing to worry about. It happens sometimes. We're fixing it. It's just disorienting. I'm sure you'll remember if you wait. It's nothing. Everything's fine." The string of unlinked, slightly panicked reassurances escaped Darren's lips before he could stop himself.
"Um, right", Byron paused, evidently unsure what to make of Darren's reply.
The pause dragged on long enough that Darren wondered if Byron had walked off, and he'd just not heard him leave. But then, Byron spoke again.
"I... have a confession to make..." Darren's heart sank slowly. "...I think... well, I've never thought about it much before, but... I think I might be... bisexual... and... well, we've known each other for a long time... I think I might... well... have feelings. You know, for you. I feel attracted to you, strongly. It's... well, it's unprofessional, I know, but... look, please, say something?" he pleaded, desperately.
Hearing Byron sound so dejected and uncertain, made Darren's heart almost freeze up with a sudden surge of guilt. This had gone far too far. He hadn't intended to do anything that might last. Hell, it wasn't even like Byron was actually Bi, or Gay, or anything; Byron only had a vague remnant of an idea that being with Darren was the most sexually gratifying thing he'd done. Following through in reality would only ruin their friendship without any chance of anything coming of it - and Darren realised, a little belatedly, that he did value Byron's friendship too much to throw it away.
On the other hand, he chided himself, he was neither saying 'I'm not gay' back to Byron, nor even thinking it, was he? He'd never really thought about it before either; he'd been with enough women, and lusted after them strongly enough in the past, that he knew he wasn't 'properly' gay. But, he had found consummating a twisted fantasy with Byron to be wonderfully exotic and sexually fulfilling, and he didn't have the excuse of mental tampering to save his heterosexuality. Maybe he was Bi?
His hemipenes started to harden at the memory of ravishing Byron's helpless form. Yes, if he had the opportunity, he would do that again.
So why not? He was sure Byron wouldn't like it in real life, and they could just write it off as a madcap idea that didn't work out, if they both agreed ahead of time that it was just a test. It wasn't quite the real thing; but it was close enough to be worth a try.
"Byron... I think, I'm Bi, actually... um... I think you're quite... well, you look good..." he paused a long moment.
Byron gave a half-gasp, half-sigh of relief, and interrupted him gleefully. "Want a coffee? We should talk! Oh, god, I was so scared, but..."
"Byron!" Darren chided, embarrassed and feeling guilty again. "Let's not get carried away. Sure, we could try... um, it... I wouldn't mind, if you're willing - but, seriously, it's not like the world's ending, or anything. No rush."
"But... a coffee?" asked Byron, persistently.
Darren sighed. "Sure. Let's grab a drink."
He finished cleaning himself as best he could, and flushed the evidence away. Come to think of it, it was quite a kinky idea; out in a public coffee shop, talking quietly about his impending sex life with Byron, while his pants were still stained with the residue of an encounter Byron didn't even remember; one that Byron was unknowingly trying to repeat, thanks to Darren's mental conditioning. Poor Byron was probably in the next cubicle wondering what the hell had happened to cause the mess in his pants, too.
Darren felt reassured. Nobody would really suspect anything, would they? Just two guys deciding to date each other... that wasn't anything really unusual, these days. Nobody would wonder if there were anything untoward, illegal, in how the desire arose, surely?
Darren finished washing his hands, and catching sight of his reflection, realised that he'd forgotten to put his shirt back on; it was still in the lab. He cursed under his breath, and called back to Byron, "I just need to go and make sure everything's okay in the lab. I'll catch you up in the car park."
"Mkay", came the distracted reply.
Darren slunk back to the lab, trying too hard to act normally.
"Susan!" he called, seeing the ferret was closest.
"Yes, doctor?" she leaned closer, "Now that he's gone, what did go wrong? I was sure that everything was..."
"Nothing's wrong!" he interrupted, with aggressively fake cheeriness. "Nothing at all. Everything went fine. Oh, I'm just going out."
"Out? Well, I expect you've got some private business to discuss with Mr Neill", she mused aloud, with a forced half-smile.
"Hmm? What? Why? Why'd you think that?" Darren asked, flustered.
He could tell from the perturbed and suspicious look she gave him, that she knew something was amiss. "I meant that you need to discuss the results of the test, and sign the financing forms for the year?" she asked, uncertain now where she hadn't been before.
"Oh!" said Darren, blushing furiously. "Oh, yes, I see. Yes, I'm off to do that. Um, see you later. Or tomorrow. 'Bye!" and with that, he turned on his heel and hurried out of the lab, leaving a very confused ferret in his wake.
She paused a long moment, before striding over to the VR machines and beginning a thorough inspection of them.
It took her about ten minutes, before her eye caught something amiss.
"Oh, good lord, that idiot!" she murmured to herself. The she raised her voice and shouted across the lab, irately, "Jason! Get over here. *Now*."
A timid, pimply rodent, not long from University himself, skittered nervously over to the irate supervisor.
Susan rounded on him. "Look at this! Look, and tell me what you see."
"It's the main data cable for the guest headset", he answered uncertainly, and a little upset; he knew he was about to get blamed for something.
"Yes. And where is it going?" Susan asked, sarcastically.
"Um... socket four."
"Exactly. Would you care to tell me *why* it's feeding into socket four, given that I told you two days ago it should be connected to socket two before the test?!" she snapped.
"Uh... uh..." Jason stammered. "But... you told me, like fifty things I needed to fix, in the elevator when I didn't have anything to write on! I didn't mean to..."
"Good god, if it turns out that this has affected our financing, you're history, Jason, you understand? History! You saw how weird Doctor Boyle was behaving - and it's no wonder, given that you managed a complete cock-up of the adaptive software circuit! All Mr Neill's wants and needs were getting fed to Doctor Boyle's headset directly, you idiot!"
"Do... do you think they noticed?"
Susan gave a disgusted 'humph'. "Doctor Boyle's no fool, unlike some, and anyone with half a brain'd realise. You'd bloody notice if you kept getting fed some other guy's thoughts at every turn - you'd hardly mistake them for yours, damn it!"
Jason blinked, as the delicate youth trying to suppress frightened, humiliated tears in the face of his angry boss. "But, Mr Neill might not have noticed? Doc Boyle had full access, right? He could just have pretended it was Mr Neill doing it! It won't affect our funding, will it? No, it still works! It can't go against us, can it?"
Susan, her point made, calmed down slightly. "It probably won't - if I thought it had, I'd have been taking you to clear your desk myself. Let's just hope that Mr Neill was satisfied by the demonstration."
She gave a half-smile to reassure the terrified technician, just a little. "Doctor Boyle's good at brown-nosing. I'm sure he'll screw the funding out of him somehow."