“315,569,260”
by Xenos
Foreward: The following little piece was written as a part of the EMSCA 10th Anniversary Expo. The challenge was to create a tale that had some sort of anniversary element—and if it was a 10th anniversary, all the better. Well, as usual, I took things a bit literally and the following tale is the result.
For those of you who have been playing along at home for the past 10 years (or 10 days)—how many of the EMSCA stories that are represented in this tale can you recognize?
And, of course, to Simon—thank you so much for your hard work and dedication to the cause. I’m not certain that there are words that can properly express the gratitude I feel for your ongoing efforts.
Prologue
Server had no concept of time. April? December? It mattered not. Somewhere in a subroutine, seconds were ticked off on a counter, though it had no idea what those numbers meant.
All that really concerned Server was performing the tasks it was programmed to do. A hard drive held its contents while sockets and ports delivered streams of text across vast distances around the world. It was a peaceful existence and, had Server been given to emotion, it would have described its life as “considerably more than enjoyable”.
This isn’t a tale about Server, though. It only begins there—more specifically, it begins in a specific directory on its hard drive labeled: “/var/htdocs/~mcstories/”
1996
Dark Wizard (not his real name) stared at his screen. Porn was good. Erotic fiction was his favorite kind of porn. Pictures in a magazine were hot, but a story allowed the mind to explore and to create its own vivid and moving imagery.
Alert and focused, Wizard’s eyes dashed left, scanned right, then dashed to the left again. He repeated this process over and over while his mind absorbed the facts regarding one of the Pentagon’s most clandestine projects. Originally shelved, but brought back to life by a retired official, the experiment in psychological warfare was quite astounding to consider.
Screen after screen, Wizard scanned and watched as Lori, poor Lori, was slowly captivated by words on her own computer screen. His shoulders began to slump as he watched the ex-Pentagon official indulge his foot fetish upon his mentally afflicted secretary. The words on Wizard’s screen flowed more easily now as his mind immersed itself in the tale.
By the time poor Lori had gleefully shoved her bosses hard prick into her mouth, Wizard was dealing with a hard prick of his own. With one hand on the scroll keys and the other on his erection, he couldn’t take his eyes from the screen.
Then finally, as Lori pleaded for her co-worker Audrey to submit to the man, Wizard’s cock exploded in his pants. Somehow, the 4096 words had changed him.
Wizard’s understanding of the human mind became greater. He was ready for his next story.
1998
Amy (also not her real name) punched the words “medical experiments” into the search box. She had a paper due in less than a week and she couldn’t put it off any longer. Unfortunately, even AltaVista—the king of all search engines—couldn’t make this paper interesting.
Or could it?
She had never heard of any organization with the acronym A.S.S.T.R. but Alta Vista seemed to think that it was relevant to her quest. Apparently, it had run an experiment known as GEF-26A. Amy wondered if she could use it for her report.
Click.
She loaded the page and began to read the narrative. Even before Gena and her twin sister Tina had signed the papers to take part in the experiment, Amy knew that this was a work of fiction. It would be of no use for her report, yet as Tina and Gena were being shuttled into the country by van, Amy found herself unable to close her browser.
Growing aroused, Amy read through the tale and shivered at the imagery dancing in her mind. When Tina itched, she itched. When Gina succumbed to that alien tongue sliding into her throat, Amy succumbed to her own growing passion. Her hand in her pants, Amy thrilled as the twins transformed. Hotter and hotter, Amy transformed as well.
“So girls, you are now genetically mutated sex slaves. Does that appeal to you?”
“Oh yes!” thought Amy as she trembled beneath her own ministrations.
“Of course it does”, the doctor smiled, “Of course it does.”
2001
Kevin (fake name), already having been affected by the data stored on Server’s hard drive, was looking for something special. He just wasn’t sure what it was, yet. If he rushed it, if he chose the wrong piece, his plan would surely fail.
Then, as if delivered by fate, he found what he was looking for. It was a tale of a girl named Andrea who made a video that she showed to her roommate Susan. Over the course of the story, Kevin saw just how perfect it would be.
“Em?” he called to his fiance. “Could you come here for a minute?”
Emily (fake name, too) came into Kevin’s study, curious as to what he might want.
“Sit down here for a minute,” he told her, offering up his chair. “I’d like you to read something.”
Together, Emily and Kevin shared a healthy and enjoyable sex life. Kevin had a problem, though. He wasn’t sure if the web site served to nourish his fetish or if it had created it in the first place. That, of course, didn’t matter. All that Kevin wanted to do was to share that fetish with the woman he would be spending the rest of his life with.
“I know this isn’t really your thing,” he said while pushing in Emily’s chair so she could see the screen clearly. “I’d like you to read this story, though.”
Emily nodded in agreement. She knew that Kevin enjoyed erotic fiction and wasn’t opposed to seeing if she could learn to understand its attraction.
Kevin stood to the side as his lovely fiance began to read the tale. He didn’t want to see the words, but needed to see what she thought of those words. He could almost envision where she was in the tale as her breathing began to slow. He smiled as Emily fell along with Andrea into the video’s hypnotic spell.
While Andrea tried to figure out what was happening with the patterns on the TV, Emily was wondering what was happening to her. She could feel herself becoming aroused as the tale unfolded.
“Am I supposed to be his slut?” she wondered as she clicked onto the second part of the tale.
Further and further she read. More and more she understood why Kevin found these stories to be so fascinating. She was so caught up in the story that she didn’t immediately notice that her fiance had stepped up beside her. When he pulled out his semi-hard cock, her hand reached up and stroked it without a second thought.
As the tables turned on Susan, Emily stroked and read further. Kevin’s cock erupted while the electric waves of orgasm converged on Andrea’s cunt.
Emily looked up at Kevin and smiled.
“There would be so many nights like this, she thought, as the ecstasy echoed out through her limbs. So many things to try...”
2004
Today Eddie (yup, you guessed it—a fictional name) had learned two things: 1) Flowers are not impatient, they are impatiens and 2) That he was a mind control fetishist—especially if the story dealt with both physical and mental transformations.
He wasn’t sure if he identified with the controller or the controllee. He wasn’t even sure if “controllee” was a word. He was only thankful to learn that he wasn’t alone in the world.
Eddie, like Carol Thompson in the story he’d just read, should have been out taking care of his yard. His discovery of this little niche on the World Wide Web caused him to put it off for yet another day. He wanted to know more.
Who were these like-minded individuals?
What drew them to the pale green pages that held thousands of tales of dominance and submission?
How did they first discover that the shackles in our minds bound far tighter than leather and chain?
When did it all begin?
His mind raced with his heart as he sought out these answers and more. All day, and into the night, he searched. Finally, Eddie took a deep breath of slime.
And slept.
This Morning
Simon bar Sinister (as real a name as any), clicked the upload button as he had done virtually every Sunday for the past ten years. Server, being neither happy nor upset about it, accepted the data and placed it where it belonged.
When it comes right down to it, it’s sad that Server didn’t possess the power to reason and to feel. Somewhere in its memory banks and on its hard drive it had accumulated an astounding amount of data. It could probably have told us exactly how many minds and hearts it had touched over the past decade. It might have even questioned the meaning of its own existence.
After all, Server was a powerful thing. It could, through the epic tales it stored, evoke an incalculable range of emotions in the minds of those it reached. It had inspired tens or maybe hundreds of thousands of readers. At night in the dark, Server’s tales had witnessed thousands of slouching forms, hands firmly encrotched, as they thrilled to the grammatic arts.
Alas, poor Server couldn’t reason; couldn’t feel. It had no awareness of the minds and hearts it had affected. And as each second ticked off on the internal counter, Server had no idea how it had affected me.
As I sit here writing, slouched and in the dark, I feel sorry for our friend the Server. He has affected us all during the course of these past ten wonderful years. Over 1000 authors have entrusted the words of over 4500 tales in his care. And those words, those wonderfully arranged words, have influenced our emotions and controlled our eager minds.
“I wonder how many more people I can seduce during the next 315,569,260 seconds?” wondered Server, as the writer submitted his tale...