by Melanie Brown
Copyright © 2016 Melanie Brown
A stand alone Girl Park story.
Something didn’t feel quite right when I woke up. I felt disoriented as I opened my eyes and at first nothing looked quite familiar. But this had to be my bed and my room, right? Oddly I heard the shower running.
I rolled over and discovered the bed was much larger than I remembered it. What an odd feeling. It seemed I was in the wrong place. As I shifted my position, I felt my body slide against a smooth, satin material. I slid my hand down my side to my hips. It was just my regular satin nightgown. Nothing strange about that. Although…
I sat up and my long, dark brown hair fell across my eyes and over my shoulders. Why does a nagging feeling in the back of my mind say this is wrong? As I get out of bed, I feel my boobs shift. I stumbled into the bathroom and looked at the mirror. Yep, there I was. An attractive, if I say so myself, woman in her late twenties. I look tired.
The water in the shower turned off and the door swung open and out stepped my husband. Husband? Of course, right? We got married right after college. Didn’t we?
He had a towel wrapped around his waist and he grinned at me. He said, “Good morning beautiful. I was wondering if I was going to have to wake you up.” He leaned and gave me a quick kiss. “Wow. Look at the time. You’re going to be late for work if you don’t hurry.”
I didn’t remember his name. I couldn’t remember my own husband’s name. Was it John? I said, “Honey, why didn’t you wake me up?”
From the bed room, he said with a laugh, “You looked so beautiful sleeping, I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“You silly!” I said as I stuck my head back out from the bathroom. “I can’t afford to be late.” I can’t? Late for what? I think I had too much to dream last night.
I slipped off my nightie and got into the shower for a quick wash. I didn’t have time to wash my hair. I didn’t linger under the warm water. I just got wet and turned it off and soaped up. Navy shower I thought. Why would I think that? I rinsed off and dried myself and hurried back into the bed room.
John was already dressed. Jeans and t-shirt. I wish I had chosen being a programmer as a career path. Although I seem to remember taking a few comp-sci classes. I went to my dresser and removed a bra and blue nylon panties and slipped them on.
John said, “I gotta run, babe. See you this evening.” He gave me a quick hug and kissed me.
I said as he left the room, “Bye honey! Be careful!”
Wearing my underwear, I stepped back into the bathroom. On the counter were a bunch of bottles, jars and what-not. Make-up? Have I worn it before? I shook my head to clear the cobwebs. I wear make-up almost every day. What am I thinking?
As I was slipping on my heels, all those strange haunting thoughts had all but disappeared. I was glad. I didn’t like feeling like I didn’t know who I was. Better get moving Kristen. You’re going to be late for work again.
Gerri looked over the cubicle wall and said in a low voice, “Kristen, are you okay? We could hear him yelling from here! And his door was closed!”
I sighed and said, “Yeah. I’m fine. He was pretty upset with me, that’s for sure.” I lied when I said I was fine. I wanted to cry. Mr. Crumby was in rare form this morning.
I turned on my computer and glanced over some documents while I waited for it to boot up. I had a feeling today was going to be a long day. I hated my job anyway. A boring office job in a cubicle where it was practically required to wear a skirt, hose and heels.
I put Mr. Crumby’s tirade behind me and just got involved with my work. The morning was passing fairly quickly. I looked at the clock on my PC screen. It was ten forty-five. I smiled. At eleven-thirty, my husband was picking me up for lunch. I always looked forward to those days when John would pick me up and we’d go to our favorite downtown restaurant.
I was doing more day-dreaming than working when my phone rang a few minutes before eleven. When I answered the call, on the other end John said in a desperate voice, “Kristen! I’m …mrbph...”
A gruff man’s voice suddenly came on the phone. He said, “If you want your husband to live, you must do as I say!”
Suddenly scared out of my mind, I said, “Who is this? Let me talk to John!”
“Shut up, bitch!” shouted the man. “Do exactly as I say or he dies!” He paused a moment. In the background I could hear John’s muffled voice. The man said, “Give me the password to the Munich account! Now or your husband dies!”
That’s an odd name for John’s and my account. It’s just a checking account and not much in it either. What good would access to our account do them? I said, “Why do you want that?”
Over the phone, John pleaded, “Tell them, honey! They mean it!”
The man shouted, “Tell me! Or your husband dies!”
Starting to cry I said, “Okay, okay. The password is…”
Two men wearing black ski masks and black tactical gear rushed into my cubicle and pulled me up from my chair. Into a walkie-talkie one of them with a thick accent said, “We have the girl.” They pulled me roughly from my cubicle. Two more men dressed the same way waited outside. People’s heads were bobbing up from their cubicles.
Tears streaming down my cheeks, I cried, “No! They’ll kill my husband!”
As they practically dragged me towards the elevator, one of the men said into his walkie-talkie, “Make the switch! Make the switch!” That was a really strange thing for someone to say.
There was a ripple effect before my eyes and I suddenly felt nauseated.
I opened my eyes and inexplicably, I saw that I was naked and tied to a chair and dripping with sweat. My vagina was so sore. I’d been ganged raped. What the hell? I was in a darkened room in what appeared to be an abandoned house. How did I get here? Was I drugged? And where was John?
My face stung from the hard slap from one of the men still dressed in black tactical. The man shouted, “The password, bitch! Give it to me now!”
Seeing stars from being hit so hard, I said, “What password? What the fuck are you talking about?”
Another skull jarring slap and the man shouted, “Quit fucking with me, bitch! The password, now!”
Crying, I said through sobs, “Okay. Stop hitting me! The password is…”
Suddenly the door burst open and several men dressed in dark blue tactical, automatic weapons raised poured through the open door. The men in blue fired several bursts and the men in the black tactical went down, blood splattering across the walls.
One of the men in blue shouted, “Clear!”
Another one lifted a mic attached to his uniform and said, “Sever the communications! End the simulation!” His accent was odd.
My vision blurred and I felt disoriented.
I found myself sitting in a chair; drenched with sweat. I was in a small gray room and I was wearing these odd pieces of gray underwear with wires hanging from them. A thing that looked like a sports bra said, “Girl Park” on it across my breasts. I had some kind of soft headgear on.
In the small room with me were two men wearing suits and two uniformed police officers. One of the men in suits was kneeling next to a smashed box. A large cable ran from the box to a panel on the wall. The other man walked up to me. He handed me a blanket to cover myself.
In a slightly Middle Eastern accent he said, “Are you okay, Mrs. Munich?” He held out a hand to help me out of the chair. With his assistance, I stood up. “I’m Detective Manning of the Houston Police department.”
Shaking my head, I said, “What the hell is going on, Detective? I’m very confused. Where am I?”
The detective smiled and said, “You’ve fallen victim to, in your case, multiple scams to get access to your account. One group of international terrorists high-jacked your Girl Park session and tried to trick you out of your password. And then a different group, with the help of a disgruntled Girl Park employee used that tap there to high-jack the high-jacked session.”
Rubbing my eyes I said, “What? You mean everything I just went through was fake? A session inside a session? Is my husband safe? And how did you know to come in here and bust that box thing?”
The detective smiled again and said, “Your husband is not in danger. In fact, he’s waiting in the lobby to ride with you on the maglev back to your home. Apparently you checked in at Girl Park this morning for a cheerleader fantasy. However, your session was high-jacked and you went to a simulation of the terrorist’s design. Girl Park notified us after they detected unusual network traffic and they detected use of this trouble-shooting interface the techies use to test rooms. We’ve arrested the employee and the men he was assisting. The terrorists somehow managed to tap into Girl Park’s network and seize control of your session.”
I sighed and said, “Oh my God. It all seemed so real. My head hurts now.”
The detective nodded at one of the uniformed police officers who approached carrying what appeared to be a bundle of clothes. The detective said, “Here are your clothes, Mrs. Munich. After we get your statement and contact information, you can get dressed and you’ll be free to go.”
I took the clothes and said, “Thank you Detective Manning. That was a very unpleasant experience.”
“How could they break into your simulation?” asked John on the maglev ride back to our town. “From what I understand, the Girl Park’s computer network is one of the most secure in the world.”
I shook my head and said, “It was all too technical for me. The Girl Park management tried to explain it during their apology to me. Bottom line is that I got a full refund and I get a free deluxe fantasy vacation for two and my partner doesn’t have to turn into a girl.” I grinned at John. He smiled and leaned over and kissed me.
On the way to our apartment, we stopped and got some Chinese take-out. I was in no mood to cook dinner. After dinner, I snuggled with John on the couch as we watched some TV. The snuggling turned to necking and then to fondling. The fake threat to John really scared me. What if I had really faced losing him? That thought drove my sudden passion for him. We hadn’t made out like this for months.
Just as the show we were watching ended, I caught my breath and slapped my forehead and said, “I have nothing to wear for work tomorrow. Crap.” Touching his crotch, I said, “Hold that thought.” I got up and went back to our bedroom and with a grunt picked up our dirty clothes basket and carried to our laundry room.
John raised his arms up in frustration and said, “Just like that? You think of laundry?” He had unzipped his pants.
“You know, it wouldn’t kill you to do some laundry too you know,” I said as I started to load the washer.
John laughed from the living room and said, “You told me you didn’t like me touching your ‘intimates’, especially if you weren’t in them. And remember how I ruined your new skirt that one time?”
I said, “Okay, okay. At least you could wash your things.”
As I started the washing machine, John got up from the couch and said, “I should probably pay some bills.”
My blouse was partially unbuttoned. I looked at him quizzically and pointed toward the bed room. I said, “I thought we were going to continue?”
As he sat at the computer in the living room, John shrugged and said, “Now I’m out of the mood.”
Folding my arms and frowning, I said, “You remember that we decided we were ready for kids, right? You still have to have sex to have kids.”
John laughed and said, “Technically, that’s not true anymore. But it’s certainly the most fun way.”
I plopped back down on the couch and started skimming through the channels on the TV. Usually it’s him who wants sex and I’m not in the mood.
“Honey?” called John from the computer. “Do you know what happened to the computer? It’s forgotten all our saved log ins and passwords.”
I frowned at the TV and shook my head. I said, “It was fine last night.”
John said, “Well, I just failed my second attempt to get into our account. The system will lock it if I put in the wrong password again. Do you remember what the password is?”
I gave John a smirk and wondered what the deal was about passwords today. I said, “I think the password is…”
There was a sudden bright flash and an extremely brief message flashed before my eyes. It read, “Simulation aborting…” I felt prickly all over my body and I couldn’t move. My brain seemed to have disconnected from my body. I could see that I had electrodes attached to my head and around my body.
As my eyes started to focus, I saw that I was in a dingy apartment room. To my shock, there was a dead body next to me. I still couldn’t make out details, but I saw at least two guys being handcuffed at gunpoint by what appeared to be military or police.
A very bright light was suddenly flashed into each eye. A man wearing glasses and a mustache kept looking intently at me. He said, “We need to get this man to a hospital as quickly as possible. His brain is in a stimulus loop. I’m going to knock him out before his brain fries.” He pulled a syringe and a bottle of something from a case he had next to him.
An officer with the words “FBI” on his back came into the room and looked at me. He said, “What happened?”
Frowning, the man who was about to jab me with a needled said, “What I was afraid would happen. He was highly engaged with the simulation when we just broke connection to the server.” I felt a pin prick and almost immediately I lost consciousness.
My eyes fluttered open. At first all I could see were fuzzy shapes and light. I was lying in a bed and I heard the faint sounds of medical monitors. A woman’s voice said, “He’s waking up, captain.”
A calm, man’s voice came from a blob standing over me, said, “Son? Can you hear me? Mr. Carlson?”
I tried to lift an arm, but I felt that it was restrained. I said in a raspy voice, “Yes. I can. Who are you and where am I?”
The blob started to come into focus. I saw an army captain standing next to me. He smiled and said, “Good questions. I am Captain Barton, U.S. Military Intelligence. And you’re a guest at the Walter Reed National Military Medical Center. You’ve been here for several days.”
I tried to sit up, but didn’t have the strength. I plopped back down on my back and with some effort said, “Why am I here? And why is the army here? And just what the fuck did I go through?”
Captain Barton said, “You were a victim of a terrorist attack. Mr. Carlson, as a key employee at a defense contractor, you were one of the few people who knew the password to the encrypted files on a thumb drive that contained the design specs for an advanced weapons system code named ‘Munich’. Three marines were killed in the theft of that thumb drive. The drive was useless without the password. So they kidnapped you.”
“But why Girl Park?” I asked. “I’m glad they didn’t, but why not just torture me?”
Captain Barton said, “You’re personnel profile suggests that you’d be resistant to divulge information under duress. They thought by tricking you by fully immersing you into an alternate reality, and making you a more compliant female, they could easily get the information. They didn’t know that North Korea had learned of their plan and devised a method to high-jack it. Obviously, none of this was set up over-night. We caught and killed some of the terrorists involved. The team from North Korea was poised to attack this very apartment when we arrived. My guess it was their contingency plan after their high-jack of the session failed. It was a small team and we were forced to take them all out. Of course the NoKo’s are denying everything.”
“So the only part that was real, was the apartment where you found me?” I asked, my head spinning with overload.
Captain Barton said, “Yes. They had set up a somewhat less sophisticated human/machine interface than what’s used at Girl Park. And then they managed to physically tap into Girl Park’s network to use their engine. The IT team at Girl Park detected the unauthorized tap and additional computer activity and called the FBI. It was only after arriving at the apartment that we learned of the international nature of the crime.”
I just laid there for a few moments and looked the captain with one eye. Frowning, I said, “How do I know this isn’t another simulation? I could be trapped forever in an endless cascade of simulations!”
Captain Barton laughed. He said, “You can tell because I’m not going to ask you for the password. We recovered the thumb drive and have already changed the encoding on it. And we’re not telling you what it is.”
A few days after being debriefed by Captain Barton, I was released from the hospital and after spending a couple of days at home recovering from my stay in the hospital I returned to work. I expected to get a hard time.
“I’ve lost my password,” said the gorgeous receptionist as I entered the secured offices of the company I worked for.
I grinned at her and said, “I’ll help you over dinner.”
She laughed and said, “In your dreams!”
“I forgot my password!”
“What’s your password, Bobby? I need in your computer.”
“Is it safe?”
“I lost my password! It was here a minute ago!”
“What’s the frequency, Kenneth?”
“What? That’s stupid.”
I finally got to my desk and stood on my chair so I was above all the cubicle walls. I said in a loud voice, “What a bunch of comedians. Ha ha, y’all are hilarious. Can we knock it off now?” There was a flow of giggles and laughs around the room.
“Hey, really. I forgot my password.”
I sat down at my desk and wiggled the mouse to wake up my PC. Tom and Chuck stood in my cube’s entrance. Tom said, “So Bobby, you were a chick? That must have been awful!” Tom suddenly squealed, “Ow!” as Sandra punched him in the shoulder as she walked past.
Chuck said, “You had a husband? You didn’t…” He formed a circle with the index finger and thumb on one hand and poked his index finger from his other hand through the hole a few times. “…did you? Oh God. And you didn’t throw up?”
I laughed nervously and said, “I was in full immersion. I wasn’t aware that I wasn’t a woman. And it wasn’t like anything was real, you know. But hey. I got a year’s free pass at Girl Park as their way of apologizing for what I went through.”
Tom laughed and said, “Well, that’s real useful! Not!”
With a laugh, Joel forced his way between Tom and Chuck and said, “How about dinner and a movie this Friday night?” Tom and Chuck both laughed. I heard Sandra from the other side of the cube wall laugh.
I shook my head and grinning said, “Will you guys shut the fuck up? I’ve got work to do.”
As they walked away, I heard Chuck ask Tom, “Who’s Kenneth?”
It was a long day. I had to put up with even more jokesters. Even a couple of vendors we sub-contract out to felt the need to rib me. It’s okay. I’m usually invisible.
I picked up something from the drive-thru at Whataburger on the way home and sat on my recliner in front of my big screen TV and ate. I wasn’t really watching the TV though. Turning over in my mind was how easily I was abducted. I don’t even remember it. I could have been killed or something.
I looked around my apartment. The only furniture was the recliner, my TV, and a desk with my Alienware gaming system. My bed was up against the back wall. Aside from the small kitchen, I just had one room.
I sat alone in my apartment lit only by the flickering light of my TV.
I woke up, snuggling gently into my pillow. One eye opened and I saw the soft morning light filtering through the blinds on the window. I’ve always loved Saturday mornings. As I rolled over, my hand touched through the sheet my husband’s stiff erection.
As I gently massaged his hard-on, I said, “I see you’re up.”
John rolled halfway to his side to look at me and said, “About time you got up.” Smiling, I bent over him and gave him a kiss. He kissed me back.
My hand still on his morning wood, I said, “It’d be a shame to waste this.”
Grinning, John said, “I agree.” He kissed me as he pulled me over his naked body. I moaned as I lowered myself onto his cock.
I kissed John deeply as I rocked my hips back and forth.
I think next time, I’ll try the South Pacific Beach Island of Passion simulation…
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