| Author: | Sophie Baxter | ISBN: | 9781476439495 |
| Publisher: | Sophie Baxter | Publication: | June 2, 2012 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords | Language: | English |
| Author: | Sophie Baxter |
| ISBN: | 9781476439495 |
| Publisher: | Sophie Baxter |
| Publication: | June 2, 2012 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords |
| Language: | English |
Jaine Ryle's job is to keep the worst of the worst out of your head in an age when the boundaries between the Internet and the human mind are blurred. Summoned to watch a condemned cyber-criminal die, is her resolve strong enough to survive the advances of dangerous man who can caress her body with his thoughts?
This 3,000-word story contains graphic depictions of the virtual seduction and intensely passionate sexual intersection of two consenting adult minds and is not intended for underaged readers.
EXCERPT:
He lifted his head and stared directly at me, and blinked.
Not blue: silver. Chrome. With the oil-slick rainbow of anodised steel. He pierced my soul with those eyes and pinned it to the back of my skull. I was helpless in that moment—that instant—mesmerised by gleaming artificial irises which revealed behind them a more intense, smouldering intelligence than I had ever seen in a natural pair.
I mentally slapped myself awake, but too late. He already had a beachhead into my implants. It was a race then, a fight to snap closed the ports and alleyways of my mind one by one, denying him access to my inner self at the speed of thought. In less than the space of a breath, before those shining eyes blinked again, the battle was over. As fast as it had begun.
I glanced around the theatre. Nobody had noticed my momentary lapse in concentration that had nearly seen us all killed. With relief, I turned my attention back to the prisoner behind the glass as the technician began connecting the leads of the execution system to the sockets behind his ears. His face showed no trace of our brief struggle. To an observer it would have seemed like nothing had just happened at all. But was that a hint of a smile on his lips?
“Do you have a statement?” continued the warden.
“I do.” A calm voice like lacquered almonds, with a drop of an accent I could not place. “To everyone that never received their justice, I'm sorry. I tried. That's all. I'm ready, Warden.”
/I'm not quite ready yet./
An invisible finger ran down the length of my spine.
The technician was at work calibrating his equipment. The warden stood silently, waiting. Morel's gaze remained fixed on me.
The invisible touch lingered a moment before splitting in two, following the curve of my buttocks beneath my clothes and down the sides of my thighs.
He'd gotten in. The fingers rounded my knees and were slowly making their way along my inner thighs. I thought I'd beaten back his advance but this hacker had still found part of myself unprotected. They followed the creases of my thighs up, stroking gently in parallel upwards over my belly. His hooks into my somatic system: my sense of touch. They traced their way up, a feather touch beneath my breasts. But what could he do from there? He had to be hoping to distract me again. It had worked before. His face revealed nothing.
Jaine Ryle's job is to keep the worst of the worst out of your head in an age when the boundaries between the Internet and the human mind are blurred. Summoned to watch a condemned cyber-criminal die, is her resolve strong enough to survive the advances of dangerous man who can caress her body with his thoughts?
This 3,000-word story contains graphic depictions of the virtual seduction and intensely passionate sexual intersection of two consenting adult minds and is not intended for underaged readers.
EXCERPT:
He lifted his head and stared directly at me, and blinked.
Not blue: silver. Chrome. With the oil-slick rainbow of anodised steel. He pierced my soul with those eyes and pinned it to the back of my skull. I was helpless in that moment—that instant—mesmerised by gleaming artificial irises which revealed behind them a more intense, smouldering intelligence than I had ever seen in a natural pair.
I mentally slapped myself awake, but too late. He already had a beachhead into my implants. It was a race then, a fight to snap closed the ports and alleyways of my mind one by one, denying him access to my inner self at the speed of thought. In less than the space of a breath, before those shining eyes blinked again, the battle was over. As fast as it had begun.
I glanced around the theatre. Nobody had noticed my momentary lapse in concentration that had nearly seen us all killed. With relief, I turned my attention back to the prisoner behind the glass as the technician began connecting the leads of the execution system to the sockets behind his ears. His face showed no trace of our brief struggle. To an observer it would have seemed like nothing had just happened at all. But was that a hint of a smile on his lips?
“Do you have a statement?” continued the warden.
“I do.” A calm voice like lacquered almonds, with a drop of an accent I could not place. “To everyone that never received their justice, I'm sorry. I tried. That's all. I'm ready, Warden.”
/I'm not quite ready yet./
An invisible finger ran down the length of my spine.
The technician was at work calibrating his equipment. The warden stood silently, waiting. Morel's gaze remained fixed on me.
The invisible touch lingered a moment before splitting in two, following the curve of my buttocks beneath my clothes and down the sides of my thighs.
He'd gotten in. The fingers rounded my knees and were slowly making their way along my inner thighs. I thought I'd beaten back his advance but this hacker had still found part of myself unprotected. They followed the creases of my thighs up, stroking gently in parallel upwards over my belly. His hooks into my somatic system: my sense of touch. They traced their way up, a feather touch beneath my breasts. But what could he do from there? He had to be hoping to distract me again. It had worked before. His face revealed nothing.
