CyberpunkErotica (2 page)

“Where are the memory boards?” I asked him, the hairs going up on the back of my neck. I should have run. Why didn’t I?

“I, er, look, Zara,” he blurted. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“Sorry about what?” I demanded.

“Oh, God,” he snivelled, the tears suddenly streaking down his face. “They, they found me, Zara, they caught me. I, I was going to belong to them unless I helped them.”

“Helped who? Helped how?” I shouted as I slid down from the stool. “The police?” God, how I hoped it was the police. The police work for what is left of the government. Most can be bought off, one way or another. I’ve given the odd hand job or a suck off to get out of a tight spot, same as everyone.

“No, it was the corps,” said Tony, clutching his head and weeping.

I gaped, frozen, couldn’t move. The corps. Or Corporate Investigations to give them their proper title. Once those bastards have you, you’re lost.

“Tony,” I whispered. “What have you done?”

“I’m sorry,” he blubbered, his fat belly trembling under his tight, stained t-shirt. “What else could I do? I had to tell them. I had to tell them everything!”

“Please come with us, miss,” said a voice behind me. Turning around, my vision swimming, I saw them.

Chapter Three

Two corps operatives. Both the same. Dark suits, short hair, pale but healthy compared to most people on the street, but of course, corps work in offices with air purifiers. The rest of us have to breathe the real shit, with all that entails.

Around us, the huge, surging crowd continued to flow by. Some stopped and stared at the corps operatives, but most didn’t care or were too scared to stop. No one messes with the corps.

“Who are you?” I asked as I stepped away. Not that I needed telling.

One of the men flipped a shiny plastic id card at me. “Corporate Investigations,” he said. “You will come with us on suspicion of crimes against corporate entities, specifically, breaking corporate monopoly by assisting in recycling old consumer goods, and thus, prejudicial activities toward intellectual ownership and copyright.”

I cursed. Crime against the corporate is, of course, the worst crime imaginable. As they say on the street, “kill a man, pay the fine, rob a company, do their time.”

“I know my rights,” I said. Back then, I believed the same as everyone else, that this was an actual legal term that meant I could go free. I truly didn’t realise how pig ignorant I was. How ignorant everyone on the street was. How ignorant we had been made.

“You will come with us. Now,” snapped the other corps, stepping toward me.

This finally broke the spell. I grabbed my bag and swung it at him, smashing it on the side of his head. I was lucky. He stumbled into the other corps, and I was away, sprinting as fast as I could along the crowded road, fighting the flow of thousands of people.

The rain lashed down in the dark street, all illuminated by the harsh orange security strips bolted to every available surface. Inside the orange strips, as I found out later, were surveillance devices. That’s how they were able to track me as I fled.

I turned onto a larger road that had once been for ground cars. The global earthquake caused the road to split, lifting up six feet along its entire length on one side and dropping down on the other, leaving a gigantic gash in the street. There are camps and squatters lined up against the ridge, using the raised surface as a protective wall. Many of the squatters fall down the exposed chasm as they get high on cheap slap, but they’re quickly replaced by the next set of deadbeats.

I nearly joined them as I pelted along, running for all I was worth, past street traders, past the hos and their pimps, past the drug dealers, all working under the harsh glow of the advertising boards. Fear gave me speed and a heightened sense of reality. I barely ever look at the streets as I walk them. They’re all dirty and flooded with the orange security light that nevertheless leaves dark shadows, pools of utter blackness, in doorways and side alleys where the crackers and skinners lurk.

I saw the old buildings of London, some centuries old, leaning haphazardly, and realised how much decay there was on the streets. The only new things were the security lights and the advertising billboards, all bolted onto any surface, lashed there against crumbling stone. Quite often, they fall off and crush dozens of people below, in which case the London Council has to pay compensation to the advertisers for ruining their boards and depriving them of precious airtime for their products.

I turned a corner and nearly ran into Butch and his sex gang. Fortunately, they were already busy on some woman. She was lying, sobbing, as they took turns, waiting for the end, after which she would have to get up and move on or else lie there forever. We’ve all been there.

“Hey, Zara, you want some fun?” hooted Butch as he stood in front of me, his arms spread wide to catch me. Butch and his gang are always looking for meat. They have their code. Steal the victim and share and share alike. If you accept it, you’ll get a few slaps, maybe a kick, maybe lose a tooth or break a rib, but then you’re done. Take a mood pill, you’re good to go again.

That night, however, I felt rage. Rage at my life. Rage at how life was for everyone. When would the revolution happen? Sex gangs could do as they wanted because no one stopped them. No one ever tried. All the police would do was give you a crime number to prove you were a victim of crime and a few credit notes in compensation. That was it. Anyone from a steel city gets attacked, the private police rip the city apart to get the criminal, and the system pays the victim a huge lump sum of hard cash.

I growled in fury and charged at Butch. His grin faded as he saw me heading straight toward him, probably something that had never happened before. Then, I was on him. My heavy bag smashed into his face, and I followed up with a heavy boot straight to his balls. He fell with a howl.

The rest of his gang turned on me, pulling knives and chains.

“Run!” I screamed at the woman on the floor. She crawled upright and staggered away.

“You’re going down, bitch,” leered one of the gang.

“Only after you’ve dealt with the corps,” I snarled back. “They’re right behind me.”

“You’re lying,” snapped another of the gang. Then, the aerial corps car, lights flashing, swung in behind me and accelerated forward.

“Shit!” screamed Butch as he hauled himself up and tried to run, cupping himself in agony. The gang fled as the two corps jumped from the car. I shoved a gang member into another and they fell, sprawling, blocking the route, and I was running again.

I continued up the street and glanced behind me. The gang was desperately trying to get away, while behind them, I could see the corps. I skidded into a side street, turned left down another, then left again, and appeared back on the main road just in time to see the corps looking round, confused. They’d lost me.

I slipped away, laughing and crying in fear and rage, and headed for the flat.

Chapter Four

I wouldn’t have been able to describe how I felt at that moment, not properly. I didn’t have the vocabulary, or even the ability to sift my thoughts in a rational manner. Those things had been denied me by my upbringing. I only have it now, after… but I’m getting ahead of myself.

I got back to my flat, feeling elated for having, as I thought, escaped the system, but I was angry as well. Undefined feelings moved within me. Why should I have to live like this, illegally, just to get money for food and rent? Why do any of us have to live this way? There are too many parasites, not enough police, not enough good jobs except for those who went to the best schools, but then, they’ve got class. I’ve got nothing.

I was emotionally and intellectually confused, trying to put words around concepts I could see only as vague outlines in my mind. I could not articulate everything I felt and thought, but neither did I realise the fact that I couldn’t articulate what I felt. I was just aware of being disturbed by half-formed ideas which were too big for my head.

At that point, Wrecker wondered past. “All right?” he asked as he walked through from the kitchen, carrying food that I paid for.

I followed him into the sitting room, which was also the bedroom.

“We’re nearly out of electric,” he said, gesturing at the display on the wall. “Got any money?”

“Why don’t you put some coins in?” I demanded in exasperation.

“I haven’t got any,” he said, shrugging, his eyes never leaving the multimedia screen.

“Then turn the media centre off and conserve the power for heating and hot water,” I snapped as he reached for his game headband.

He sighed, as though I were being completely unreasonable. “Lift out of order, is it?” he asked, finally looking at me and noticing my heavy breathing and flushed face. The lift frequently breaks down in the flat. The last time was because a drug dealer had flung a body down the shaft. It took over a year for the owners to fix it.

“No,” I replied, wondering if I should tell him what had happened. I wanted to talk to someone but Wrecker was useless. He’s only got one talent, aside from not paying his way. He still gets his laundry done by his mum when I refuse to do it.

I looked at his muscles, his bandana, his leather biker vest and felt the usual stirring. He is good on your arm. All my female friends are jealous. “Get over here,” I rasped, feeling yet more strange feelings running through me. Again, I couldn’t explain them clearly, but I had escaped, I was free and adrenalin was surging through me. I was in a state of triumph and I felt I needed to celebrate, for something in me had changed.

Wrecker grinned as I pulled the bed down from its niche in the wall. He unwound himself from the sofa and walked cockily over to me, swaying his hips, letting me see the rippling torso under his top.

It occurred to me he really loved himself and that his grin was more of a leer, almost adolescent in its appearance, but I was hot and horny, and he was good between my legs. I’ve always liked a bad boy. I wanted to reform them.

“Get your clothes off,” I said as the bed banged onto the floor.

Wrecker looked surprised at my words and tone. “Hey, baby, you first,” he said, stretching out to me.

I slapped his hand away. “Undress,” I snapped at him.

Again, he looked surprised, but this time he began to pull his top off.

“Slowly,” I rasped. Again, I couldn’t explain it, but I needed more than just the act. I needed to nourish another part of me, a part that was just awakening, a part of me that needed sensual stimulus, not just physical satisfaction. “Tease me with it.”

I watched as Wrecker slowly, self-consciously, pulled his top off, revealing his sculpted torso.

“Now your jeans,” I said, ogling his gorgeous body, yet strangely conscious that the package was better than the contents. I tried to ignore the alien thought, the criticism of Wrecker’s personality, to concentrate on his body as his muscled legs appeared from under his black jeans.

He stumbled as he pulled them off, unnerved by my close, hungry examination. “Are you all right?” he asked, doubt in his voice as he stood there in his tight purple pants.

“What’s the matter, don’t you enjoy me looking at you?” I asked. “You like looking at those women in your skin flicks.”

He shrugged, his movement sending a ripple around his shoulders and a corresponding ripple through my stomach. God, he was gorgeous. “That’s different, they’re used to it, they like it,” he whined. Gorgeous on the outside, at least. “And they get paid for it.”

“Get on the bed,” I said, repressing a sigh. Whatever mental stimulation I needed, I knew then I would never get it from Wrecker. “Get your pants off,” I added. He was happy to oblige.

I quickly pulled my clothes off, releasing my breasts from their tight container. They’re not huge, but I have a small body, so they look pretty damn big against me. As always, they were the one part of me that Wrecker would look at during sex.

He moved over and gestured next to him, indicating I should go underneath, as always. This time, however, I was hungry and still angry. I grabbed him and thrust him onto his back. His eyes widened in shock.

“Hey, baby, what you doing?” he asked.

“Shut up,” I replied, taking in his perfect physique. Then, I dived onto his cock.

I took the large, throbbing muscle in my mouth and sucked hard, barely conscious of the change in me. Before, I had always taken a cock in my mouth and just licked a bit. Now, I wanted to devour it. I wanted to suck it clean off his body. I wanted to feel it move and squirm in my mouth as I pleasured it, to taste the head, to feel the round, hard end of it against my tongue, to feel the warmth of it ignite deep inside my throat.

My pussy almost dripped in excitement and power as I took control, thrusting my head down the length, feeding the cock down my throat before rising back up, saliva spurting out as my mouth cleared the muscle. My spit dribbled down, drooling over the purple head, before I plunged back down once more, harder, faster, sucking with greater intent, feeling not just the cock but the whole experience of devouring it, of hearing Wrecker groan in pleasure, of feeling his dick spasm as I worked him in total control.

With a final suck, I lifted myself, still dribbling, and raised myself on my knees so I towered over Wrecker. Dawn was breaking and natural light was filtering in through the curtains, shafts of warm golden colour spreading out over Wrecker’s muscles. One shaft fell over his hairless chest, illuminating one nipple, a second fell over his taut stomach, while a third went over his thighs, leaving him in dark and light stripes.

He tried to rise but I pushed him back. I straddled him. This time, I was on top and I was staying there. I grabbed his soaking cock, lubricated by my drool, and lifted myself over it, aligning the head with my soaking pussy before dropping myself down.

I almost exploded. His cock slid up inside, rigid, straight, huge, parting me in delight. My juices flowed as I cried out, a yell of pure enjoyment, shock and power. My nipples stiffened and stretched out, straining so much I thought they would burst, especially as I took Wrecker’s hands and lifted them to my breasts.