Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaDemoCD2.iso/ASCII/TEXTE/SEX/ADULTSHARE/K/KARELIOT.2

Text File | 1994-03-26 | 27.4 KB | 508 lines

@BEGIN_FILE_ID.DIZ
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Karen was ready to leave when Drew arrived, which was convenient
because he had parked in metered street-side parking.  She was
somewhat surprised about the little red Lotus which Drew was
using.  His story was that he was evaluating the autos pre-
production systems.
     In about half an hour Drew was off the freeway and into the
winding canyon country.  While the ride was much smoother than
Karen was used to in a sportster, the cornering roll was all but
non-existent.  Four-wheel power and active suspension almost
entirely eliminated slip.
     Drew routinely entered the curves at around three times the
posted speed, practically standing on the four-wheel antilock
brakes in the final moments of the approach.  The power-shift
manual gear box thumped heavily an instant before the brutal
acceleration announced the corner exit at multiples of the speed
limit.
     Once established on the final straightaway, Drew opened the
throttle all the way.  When the tach indicated red-line revs, he
shifted into neutral and idled the engine.  They coasted the last
mile or so to the unpaved turnoff.
     Madge Nation, and her husband Tar Nation lived in the ranch-
style house a couple miles down the well-maintained gravel road.
Madge was in the driveway when Karen and Drew arrived at the head
of a rooster tail of rising dust.
     Madge greeted her guests and led them around back and down
the path to the sweat lodge.
     The domed, one-room structure was crafted from a dozen
willows.  Timbers demarked the cardinal and minor compass points.
     Half a dozen paces from the lodge, Tar tended rock loaves on
a metal grill.  With hands protected by heavy padded gloves he
turned the hot rocks above low blue flames.  He waved as they
approached.
     Madge stopped at the gazebo which had been fashioned entirely
within the interlocking branches of five bushy trees.  Benches,
hooks, and baskets were available for clothing and personal
articles.
     Madge removed her robe.  Drew appreciated her small breasts
with pale and outstanding nips and her diminutively trimmed
platinum bush as she stowed the robe and pulled the bong from a
clever niche.  She handed it to Karen, who was already down to her
matching black lace bra and panties.  Karen took a couple of long
hits as she appreciated Drew disrobing.
     Goose flesh started to form about the time Madge, Karen, and
Drew felt stoned and longed for the warmth of the lodge.  Tar
joined them for a hit once he had finished transferring the hot
rocks to a ceramic pedestal in the sweat lodge.  Tar secured the
bong and led his friends down the path.
     Tar held open the heavy flaps of thick hide which were draped
over the arched doorway of the hut.
     Madge waited until everybody was comfortable and relaxed
before breaking the silence.  She spoke in a formal tone.  "Most
people demand behavioral controls imposed by an authority
structure.  Tar and I empathize with your rejection of external
direction."  She paused for a moment before continuing.  "Helen
Gone argued against the university because their position stemmed
from convenience of administration."
     Karen leaned forward and lay a sage sprig on the hot rocks.
She considered the implications that arose from the High Priestess
being personally involved.  The cup of water that she poured over
the sage on the rocks disappeared in a quick bubbling and hissing.
     Tar continued as the aromatic vapor diffused.  "We have good
news and bad news", he joked.  "Which would you like first?"
     "Bad", Drew asked simply.
     "Karen, you won't be awarded your degree if you insist on
having your way.  Same for you, Drew, if you stick with Karen."
     Drew added several cedar chips to the rocks and trickled
water over them.  He pondered this, awaiting the good news as the
redolent vapor rose from the rocks.
     "You will, however, be allowed to stay on and continue your
studies to your satisfaction," Tar said and then waited.
     Karen exhaled slowly.  "Well", she began and paused.  "That's
awfully damn nice of them."
     "Would you like the good news?", Tar teased.
     "I could use some."
     "Here," Tar said, offering Karen and Drew their choice of
trippers.
     The glass tubes, each enclosing a vaporizing wire that was
coated with designer halucinogen, were the keys to Miskatonic U's
ex nihilo lab and its gates.
     Tar was the first to press the firing stud on the handle of
his tripper.  With a pop and a bluish-white flash, a cloud formed
within the tube.  "There's something I'd like to show you," he
said, and sucked the vapor through a semipermeable membrane in one
end of the tube.
     Karen, Drew, and Madge emulated Tar's example.  The massive
L+ doses hit some before others.  They waited and the shared
environment formed; cold and dreary, and suggesting ancient
enmity.
     Madge promised a short walk and all set off.  Concealed
within the thick fog which surrounded them, giant arthropod
monsters waited.  Vaguely insectiod (or occasionally aracnid,
crustacean, and myriapod), they had eviscerating hooks,
decapitating pincers, barbed impaling stalks, bad breath, and bug
eyes.  And that was the males.  The females also had armor-
piercing ovipositors not unlike scorpion tails.
       Arriving at the gate area, Karen and Drew assumed a
defensive parameter while Madge and Tar worked at dilating the
gate.
     Originally armed with vorpal swords, Karen and Drew were
prepared to face the Jabberwock itself.  However, when the
rattling chitin and pungent presence encircled them, they
reconsidered.  Karen conjured a full-auto, belt-fed shotgun.  She
used plastic ball bugshot for the spectacular effect it had
against exoskeletons.  (Losing much of their energy penetrating
the shell, the balls shredded internal organs as they ricochetted
around inside.)  Drew muscled a small rotary-barrel cannon which
used conventional warloads.
     Tar and Madge had succeeded in tagging the gate with a dayglo
border, but attempts to tease it open were in vain.
     When the fog shifted it revealed the massed and closing
terrors, most dripping slime or venom.  Without hesitation, Karen
and Drew opened fire, weaving a curtain of murderous projectiles
to the staccato thunder of their automatic weapons.  They adroitly
avoided each others crossfire and ammunition belts.  When they
ceased firing, drifting cordite odor mixed with the humid charnel
stench.  Antennae and legs attached to broken carapace jerked
mindlessly.  Ichor pooled among the shattered bodies and spent
cartridges all around them.  Meanwhile, the gate had opened under
Madge's gentle ministrations.
     Madge and Tar first stepped into the uniform gray beyond the
gate and disappeared.  Drew waited for Karen to file through.  The
first step was easy, but a resistance pressed back against her.
She had to redouble her efforts several times to penetrate the
surface tension.  Once she began to clear the gate, Karen felt the
numb of nulled sensorium.  She'd been warned about the shocking
emptiness, yet panic still nipped at her heels.

Karen's second step brought her through the gate.  The cold
flagstone floor surprised her as an unexpected stair might.  Her
ears popped as she swallowed the lump in her throat.  Regaining
her composure, Karen took stock of her surroundings.
     Fluorescent fixtures hung at regular intervals from the high
ceiling.  Movable partitions divided the immense room.
     Karen watched the dayglo border of the gate fade, and with it
the gray fog beyond.
     Madge and Tar had already donned heavy terry robes and
slippers.  The crisp chill imparted to the room by the thick stone
walls inspired Karen and Drew to follow suit.
     Madge opened the heavy drapes before the tall doors, lighting
the large chamber with brilliant afternoon sunshine.  Tar opened
the glass doors and stepped out on a small semicircular balcony.
"Welcome to Amber," he announced with a low bow and a gesture
which took in the city below.
     Just outside, gardeners dressed in Renaissance-era clothing
tended an area with familiar flowers, trees, and shrubs.  Looking
about, Karen observed that she was in a castle built on the
shoulder of a mountain.  Above and behind her, ponderosa and blue
spruce made up the most of the thick tree life.  Below, the
balcony overlooked the picturesque city of Amber and the
glittering harbor.
     Houses of stone, brick, or wood, an occasional whitewashed
plastered  wall, the odd thatched roof, and the rare stone mansion
dominated the view of the eastern portion of the city.  The
southernmost part of the city merged with the trees that led
eventually into the forest and out into the countryside.
     Tar handed a pair of binoculars to Karen and began to
describe the predominantly commercial western section of Amber.
"See that wide cobblestone street that swings southeastwards and
then eastwards, marking the boundaries of the city?" Tar asked.
Without waiting, he carried on.  "That's the Main Concourse.  It's
the place of business for most Amber merchants".  Karen looked at
the busy shops, cafes, and restaurants; deals being made, goods
being purchased, and merchants trying to shout their
advertisements.
     Karen handed the binox to Drew as Tar described the
fascinating activity in the harbor.  "The port area is unsafe,
unsavory, and dangerous.  Harbor Road gives way to Death Alley
over there," he said, pointing.
     Drew scrutinized the industrious port.  Barges full of wares
were bustling between warehouses both large and small, and between
the docks which dotted the harbor.  Several barks were being
unloaded.  Sailors on one large schooner were rigging staysails
off the mizzenmast.
     Madge joined her friends on the balcony.  She handed them
white metallic cards, upon which she had written their names in
exquisite calligraphy.  The flip side of the cards was devoted to
the standard glyph for Information Hazards;  the anterior view of
the human eye, with a seductive spiral fractal within the iris.
     "These security keys will unlock doors with adjacent card
slots," Madge said.  With emphasis, she continued.  "Don't open
doors without card readers.  Ever."
     "Just carry them with you," Tar suggested.  "Since you can't
go anywhere without them."  He dropped his in the pocket of his
robe.  "Let's take a look around," he said, leading the expedition
from the balcony.
     "This is the hardware lab," Tar indicated with an
encompassing gesture.
     "In the northeast corner is the laminar-flow rooms.  The IC
fab people have diffusion furnaces, chemical vapor deposition
systems, as well as lithography and etching equipment.  They're
kept pretty busy making wafers of pirated circuitry.
     "The containment dome next to the lam-flow building houses
the power kernel, shielding, transformers, and the like.
     "The systems prototypers use most of the rest of the layout.
Currently, they're turning out 32-bit microprocessor-based
computers.  They're rack-mounted and ugly as hell, but with the
different semiconductors, they run at ten times the clock
frequencies you can do back home."
     Arriving at the armored door, Tar pushed his card into the
reader.  The powered door slid slowly into its pocket within the
reinforced wall, and closed heavily behind them.
     The group followed Tar down a thoroughly featureless hallway.
Just to the left of the grand staircase, they used the servants'
stairway in the northwest corner of the castle.  Tar led his
friends down two flights of stairs.  Many of the doors which were
immediately visible on the second floor had card locks.
     Madge led the coterie down another long hall to a pair of
double doors.  The doors swung inward after the presentation of
her card, and they entered the sparsely furnished library.
     Warm sunlight suffused the library through the four inset,
floor-to-ceiling windows along the west side of the room.
     "Usually this is a place of relaxation and study for members
of the royal family," Tar stated.  "Generally, however, they avoid
us.  It is strongly suggested that we reciprocate."  Karen
recognized the usual response to I-hazards.
     Madge showed them the three tall stacks that extended from
the north wall and smaller shelves and smaller tables which lined
the west wall.  A desk sat in the center of the north section, and
a larger double table sat under the southwest windows.  A
comfortable sofa and chair sat in front of the banked fire.
     The ubiquitous card key slot was the only clue to the
decorative false panel in the southwest corner of the library.
Madge motioned Karen to try her card on the lock.  With a snick,
the panel eased open enough to pull.  Karen followed Madge up the
dimly lit stairway to the upper level where her card was again
necessary.
     As the panel closed behind the women, Tar led Drew to a
section devoted to Shadow Earth.  A computer workstation had the
Great Books of the Western World on optical disk.  "Merely a quick
reference," teased Tar.  Nearby, stacks contained complete sets of
St. Augustine, Chaucer, Shakespeare, Cervantes, Montaigne,
Machiavelli, Castiglione, Sidney, Bacon, Ben Johnson, Samuel
Johnson, Hegel, Heidegger, Newton, Einstein, Pope, Boccaccio,
Milton, Rabelais, and Virgil.  First editions of seminal works
from ancient to postmodern took up proximate stacks.
      Madge led Karen along the walkway which extended around the
perimeter of the upper level.  Tracked ladders reached the highest
shelves near the ceiling.
     The entrance to the study room was cleverly concealed from
view below.  As Madge stepped across the threshold a gentle
bioluminescence lit the small room evenly.  There was barely room
around the table and chairs to get to the books on the shelves
along all walls.  The _Necronomicon_, companion volumes, and
commentaries absorbed Karen's attention.  "I'd bet my postsynaptic
membranes that the complete Curwen collection of thaumaturgical,
alchemical, and theological works is here," Karen remarked,
following Madge from the alcove.
     They passed empty shelves along the walkway before arriving
at another recess.  In a glass case a single volume lay
illuminated by a lamp within.  Karen immediately opened the
unsecured case and removed the _Handbook For The Recently Deceased_.
She'd long wanted a glance at "The Handbook", or "The Manual" as
it was sometimes known.  She quickly turned to the intermediate
interface chapter on haunting to see just how detailed an
explanation was in fact there.  "It reads like stereo
instructions," Karen commented as she replaced the volume and
followed Madge.
     Madge and Karen rejoined Tar and Drew by the large marble
fireplace on the west wall.  Tar's continuing explanation of the
library request and procurement system answered Karen's questions
about the mint condition of the books.  Beyond explanation was the
posthumous editions section.  She'd seen still-boxed unknown works
by Brautigan, Hellman, Maugham, Abbey, Steinbeck, and P.K. Dick,
among others.
     Madge directed the tour of the guest apartments at the north
end of the second floor.  The hospitable domicile was complete
with sitting, sleeping, and dining areas as well as a small
library which seemed devoted to quantum mechanics and associated
arcana.
     The bedroom reminded Karen of a first-rate residence hotel.
     Drew bounced on the satin sheeted bed which was as
comfortable as it appeared.  "So, what's the project here?"
     Madge indulged in the luxury of the love seat.  "Software
development for the Crown.  All the hardware billets are filled."
     Karen sat at the small writing table across from the bed and
regarded the fresh cut flowers in the crystal vase.  "Yeah?"
     Tar lounged in the chair adjacent to the night stand.  "We're
building a reality editor."
     "A what?" Karen asked.
     "You know. Cut, paste, add, delete, change. The usual" Madge
answered.
     "Is this artificial intelligence?" Drew suspiciously
inquired.
     "Nah," replied Tar.  He continued wryly.  "That's
specifically prohibited by the contract.  It seems that their
first attempt resulted in a rogue consciousness."
     "Then how?" Karen wanted to know.
     Madge took up the explanation.  "Limited domain, iterative
techniques.  Purely procedural code.  Brute fuckin' force.  You
can hack your way up to speed on the metaprogramming language
pretty quickly."
     Karen mulled that over.  "What's functional?"
     Madge smiled broadly before answering.  "One module.  Fun
with billboards, bumper-stickers, and graffiti.  You should have
been here the night that I replaced the text 'to protect and
serve' with 'tool of the rich man' wherever it occurred on squad
cars back home."
     With an even bigger grin, Tar mischievously interrupted.
"Shit hit the fan.  Even a new rule.  No more RE tests on Shadow
Earth.  Bellona only now, which almost takes the fun out of it,"
he concluded with a wink.
     "What's the hitch?" Drew probed.
     "We want to ensure that expansion of the operating envelope
doesn't bite us in the ass," Madge responded.  "The next project
mandate is a 'no tricks' safety module.  Apparently they watch
Twilight Zone when in Shadow Earth."
     "Anyway," Tar said, "You should sleep on it.  This little
trick of somatic projection is about to fail.  When it does, you
will regain consciousness back home.  It's best if you're asleep
when it happens."
     "How much longer?" Karen inquired.
     "A couple of hours, tops."
     Madge and Tar excused themselves, leaving Karen and Drew
alone for the first time since their arrival in Amber.
     Karen arose from the small table and joined Drew by the bed.
"What do you think?" she asked him, doffing her robe. Turning the
down comforter back, she couldn't discern what kept it from
sliding off the sheets.
     While fluffing the pillow, Karen noticed the hawk feather
bound to a chunk of turquoise with a hide band which was lying on
the sheet.  She stared at the token, her attention captivated.
     "They're playing with a fusion torch," Drew answered as he
dropped his robe with hers.  "Somebody's gonna get burned," he
said, following her gaze.  "What do you think?"
     When their eyes met, Karen shook her head fractionally and
dropped the pillow, covering the token.  "Who could be trusted
with this thing?  I don't see resolving that issue within the
context of a safety module."
     Following Karen's apparent lead, Drew dropped the
conversation and snuggled next to her in the regal bed.
     They rolled to their backs from the warm spoon.  Karen
initiated an old game for descent to sleep.  She wrapped her
slender fingers around Drew's limp hose, which began hardening
immediately.  Karen wanted to fall asleep with Drew still
throbbing in her fist, before he fell asleep and softened in her
grasp.  Drew wanted to fall asleep rigid in Karen's hot palm,
before she fell asleep and her grip failed.
     While usually successful, the technique couldn't overcome
deep tension.  Karen commenced a standard variation to get the
game back on track.  She soothingly released Drew's penis and
cupped his balls, massaging and rolling them within their hairy
sack.  Tickling his scrotum with her long fingernails brought
Drew's member to throbbing rigidity.
     Karen rubbed the shaft of Drew's veiny cock with fingertips
and nails, bringing his excitement to fever pitch.  She teased a
glob of ooze from his purple helmet and spread it all over the
bulbous head, playing with its firmness.
     Karen encircled Drew's engorged manhood and began pumping.
Slowly at first, and then faster, she twisted and tugged his cock
with supple fingers.  Drew signaled his oncoming orgasm with
insistently bucking hips as he fucked her hand ever faster.
     As Drew exploded in orgasm, Karen contained his load by
clamping her thumb and forefinger just below the head of his cock.
She held tightly through the rhythmic pulsations of his
ejaculation.
     As Drew lay back, Karen slipped under the covers.  She locked
her mouth around his dick and released the clamp, draining his hot
thick seed and swallowing it.  She milked the residual jism and
licked it off, smacking her lips contentedly.
     Karen lay on her back next to Drew holding his hand, fingers
intertwined, until he reciprocated.
     Drew rested the palm of his hand on Karen's trimmed pubic
patch, rubbing her mound in a circular pattern.  His fingers
traced from the mons along the length of her puffy outer lips.
Her fleshy inner lips were engorged, slick with plentiful juices.
With his long middle finger he distributed the creamy
lubrication around her erect clit which poked from beneath its
hood.
     With an index finger, Drew slowly rubbed one side of the
hood, stimulating the clit indirectly, tracing small spirals on
the sensitive skin.
     When Karen's bucking hips and rapid breathing announced her
undeniable orgasm, Drew increased his pace slightly.  Karen came
with a pleased moan and relaxed, Drew's warm hand resting on her
quivering pussy.
     Karen reached over and resumed the game by grasping Drew's
hardening penis.  They both fell asleep nearly immediately,
thoroughly relaxed.

"- long have we been away?," Karen heard Drew asking as the
primacy of her presence in the sweat lodge reasserted itself.
    "Only a moment," Tar answered.  "The standard hit is two
hours, with a yield of six months on the other side of the gate.
Time dilation is the chief benefit of transfer contracts.  A
session each in the morning and afternoon, five days a week,
amounts to an effective extention to your life of five years."
     "It's easy to loose your perspective," Madge continued.
"The point of the upgrade is to provide an anchor or sorts; an
orientation to this plane.  If you abandon your body it'll die,
and with it the projection through the gate.  Believe me, that
distinction will seem unimportant after years in Amber, Gaea, or
Snug Harbor."
     "Not to mention Wonderland, Toontown, Pell Station, or
Bellona," Tar added.
     Karen never found it necessary to be diplomatic when
inquiring about how someone else profitted from her effort.
"What's the coven get from this?  It seems a lot like a Manhattan
Project at first glance.  Are you sure that we're on the right
side of the balance of power?"
     Madge deferred to Tar for the first question.  "They
Shadowshift cargo for us," he said.  "The personal performance
bonus specifies shipment equivalent to your body mass between
terminuses of your choice.  The coven will get a dedicated voyage
of a triple-masted sailing vessel plus a generous letter of credit
against the Crown's treasury.  Most valuable of all, however, is
information.  What we experience and learn, individually and
collectively, is ours."
     Madge fielded the second question herself.  "Helen Gone
negotiated the treaty with Random.  She trusts him.  His goodwill
was adequately demonstrated when he provided the Jewel of
Judgement for the development of the isomorphic aerogel that we
use in the effector arrays."
     Karen paused for a moment.  "Is the upgrade absolutely
necessary?  Can't I just go in for it later?"
     "It is important to your development and essential to gate
transfer contracts," Madge answered, apparently somewhat pained to
be quoting the party line.  She added gently, "I think I know how
you feel.  I faced 'simplicity, sincerity, serenity' with some
apprehension as well.  Frankly, proceeding although I had
reservations was a key to growth.  You are being asked to
demonstrate your confidence in the coven and your place in our
work."
     As Karen considered, Drew pressed his concern forward.  "How
does the Amber work-for-hire project fit in with the coven's
work?"
     "Our work is with those that we were born among," Tar
answered.  "The upgrade strengthens the bonds we have with this
world, but we have coffers to fill.  The challenging work that
affords personal growth has to be sold.  Amber's buying."
     Karen sat back for a moment with her eyes closed,
contemplating the decision, phrasing it tactfully.  "In addition
to taking leave from the university, I'm declaring a retreat from
my coven office."  So much for attending her Samhain initiation.
     Madge and Tar either weren't surprised, or took it well.
Turning to Drew, Tar asked, "And you?"
     "She's my partner.  I strongly prefer to maintain a lockstep
arrangement in our interfaces, so I'll pass on the upgrade for the
present."  Drew paused for a moment, knowing that Karen wanted him
along with her.  "I'm going to complete our work and see it
through at the university."
     They sat in silence for several minutes.  The pregnant pause
allowed room to reflect and proceed without divisive words.
     It was Madge who spoke first.  "So be it.  Your decisions
will be respected."  Her voice was still tinged with antinomy, but
it was replaced by genuine warmth as she continued.  "If there's
anything that we can do, please call upon us.  We would be pleased
to help in any way possible."
     Karen and Drew lingered briefly on pleasantries, but the
divergent path that they'd cast upon obviated shop talk.

Karen comfortably discussed administrative details related to
Arkham during the drive back to Los Angeles, but Drew concluded
that the slight tension in Karen's face suggested that she would
make a point of not asking him for an explanation of his decision.
"Look Karen, I don't have the appreciation for Featherstone that
you evidently do.  By a twist of fate I got off the reservation
before it sucked me under.  I've lived with the medicine man mumbo
jumbo."
     Karen rested her hand gently on his thigh.  "It's really
okay, Drew."
     Drew concentrated on a corner, perfectly cranking the wheel,
braking, and then accelerating.  "Are you even considering the
upgrade?"
     "Do we need it?" she asked.
     "At this rate, 'suffering, sacrifice, and self-abasement'
could be next," he said with a chuckle.
     "This is not a social crisis," Karen said with a radiant
grin.
     "It's just another tricky day," concluded Drew, with a wink.





/*
We wish to express our gratitude for the original work of Roger
Zelazny, Neil Randall, Jim Clouse, and Todd Hamilton.  Thanks also
to Avon Books and Bill Fawcett.

Christopher and Morgana Abbey created the Wonderland Tarot, which
is published by U.S. Games Systems.

Miscellaneous acknowledgements:  H.P. Lovecraft, Lewis Carroll,
Mantak and Maneewan Chia, Jennifer Brennan, Rachel Pollack, Carol
Anthony, and Science News.
*/



  DISCLAIMER: The secretary will disavow any knowledge of my actions in the
              event that I am caught or killed.

            Jim Norris      [e-mail]      [phone]
--

Mail rec.arts.erotica submissions to [e-mail].
Most software will automatically mail your postings to that address.
--
David Zinkin ([e-mail]) -- Rochester General Hospital Radiology
   (Consultant) and Case Western Reserve Univ. (Psychology/Chemistry)

Prisoner of CHEM 302 & 305 and SMAFU (Situation Marriott, all f***ed up)