I looked up into the revolving ceiling fan, felt his powerful arms holding me tight, and his breath on my neck and thought. “You’ve gonna really love me before we’re done, Paul Stover. You may think you created me and that I’m yours for a game. If that’s what you want, here I am. But, I’m one of the great game makers. I want you. I’m going to mold you into my perfect partner. You are exactly as I’ve dreamed. You are mine, dear boy. Just wait, love. Just you wait. We’re in for a summer of games—and we’re going to recreate each other. Two game players are really going to create reality and revel in the best sex either of us has ever imagined. Soon neither of us will know the boundary between VR and life. Let the games begin.” BD
I created this story some months ago—and then when I reached this point, I realized that I had “painted” myself into a box. Writers’ block? Not sure where to go next? Maybe nowhere. Comments? BD