Haunted by the Futa Ghost 13 Possessed by the Futa Ghost
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Virtualy Possessed, Part 1 free porn video
Dreams, to Mal Darads, had always been the only worthwhile thing in his
life. He couldn't believe that tomorrow, it would be over- his aspiration
to create the first VR unit. Progress had been good, with the development
of a super definition, naturalistic sound systems, and a chamber whose
environment could be easily controlled. Yet, he wanted to go all the way,
not just a 4d experience. So, when he had built a prototype for a visor
that literally hijacked the mind and turned it into the user's
playground, complete with senses and knowledge of the world. The user
retained their original state, but felt prompted to "act" the part of the
avatar they were in. Even Facebook and Google had been fighting over the
rights to the technology to revitalize themselves in the world of social
media. However, questions about it made it unpopular, and soon the entire
project- with chamber included, had been canceled. So the only existing
prototype was that he sat in his garage, glancing pensively at the
goggles.
In truth, one of the first tests he was going to run was something to fix
his appearance. Years of sleep deprivation, stress, skipped meals, and
exercise combined with his existing diet of junk had left him in sorry
shape. His hair, which used to be full and brown, had reduced itself down
to a graying, receding hairline by 40 years old. He had always thought it
would be worth it, but now all he was was a failure, both physically and
economically.
The worst part that it had worked-he had put company executives and CEOs
in their own worlds, impressed the masses at conventions and carnivals,
and won awards for his breakthrough. Yet, in the end, "the common man"
would be more afraid of it than would reimburse the stockholders trust.
So, if it worked, what stopped him from using it? Sure, there were minor
glitches that couldn't be fixed, but that didn't make it total junk.
Turning to the open laptop behind him, he quickly uploaded a new scenario
into the visor. It was ambitious- an entire city filled with computer
controlled characters. It had frozen on him a few times, but he didn't
care. It was rash, but could not be any rasher than the board's decision
to drop the future of electronics. Grabbing the goggles he slid them over
his head, positioning the sensors at his temples. Turning the device on,
his body suddenly numbed, the world turning dark.
...
beeping pierced his hearing as his eyes sot open to a glaring light
directly in his face. A mess of people were busily pushing around his
bed, medical equipment hooked up to various spots. He was at a hospital,
but why. He raked his brain for answers, suddenly realizing who he was.
He was playing the part of Melisa Zarkney, who was 25 years of age and
attended college. As the class of 3532. It was now January 26th, 3530,
and she had been in a motorcycle accident. Why had the visor put him into
her body? Had he not set the scenario setting from "random" to "male?" He
didn't have much time to think on the subject, as a doctor dressed on a
blue jumpsuit had come up to her side. While a surgical mask hid most of
his face, he could tell the physician had a scrawny face, with large
circular glasses that held two tiny digital displays in its frames.
"Miss Zarkey, We are proud to say your wounds healed up fine. Your nano
bots handled them before we could attend to them. We just had to make
sure they were working like normal." He filled her in, helping her swing
her legs over the side of the bed.
"Now, careful, your bones may have mended, but they will still be
wobbly," he cautioned as he helped her up. He examined his body,
surprised how real it seemed. Her breasts were large, at least a pert D
cup, with a tapered waist and a fine ass. The black jumpsuit was
unscathed, as it should be. The nanobots would have kept it clean, as it
had with his wounds. He knew it was ridiculous, but in a VR, the last
thing he wanted to do was worry about his health. So, the nanobots were
introduced, which healed each and every injury. Even cancer was a thing
of the past. The only real use for these medic centers were to have a
fall back if the nanites did somehow quit along the way.
"Thanks, doc," he said, hobbling out to the lobby. It was odd, having a
high-pitched voice. It was nice, however, to be fit for once. He winded
he hallways, noticing the glances of the male doctors as he rounded the
hallway which lead to the lobby. Once there, she looked around for a
guide- or person to tell them the next "objective" of the "game." He was
easy to find him, as he was the only one waiting in the reception area.
He scanned his tall, handsome, and chiseled features. Muscles bulged out
of the short sleeved jumpsuit. Somehow, it was supposed to be hot to cut
parts of your suit off, even some of the nurses had opted to wear short
skirts and low cut hems. She searched for a name for this man....Greg. Greg
Stanley, his avatar's current "fling." It seemed she had had many over
the years, as it took a second to get through the extensive list of
names. He sexily sauntered up and kissed Greg's handsome face, topped
with a long golden main. He grabbed his feminine body, wrapping his arms
around Mal's skinny sternum. They kissed again, before a cough from the
front desk broke the moment. Mal wasn't really gay, but the part required
him to be intimate, and he did not want to mess up the algorithm.
"Right well, Boss called and wanted you to get to the office right away.
Said something about a "morning report"," he said, leading her out to his
hovercraft. It was shaped like a saucer, which was a more popular model
in the business. Mel thought a moment, sifting through memories 'till he
found what the phrase meant. Melissa was interning for a major tech
company who was searching for another means of space travel. Rockets,
even in this reality, were too expensive for everyone but the top two tax
brackets.
"It's in my satchel, but that got lost in the accident, I thought," he
remembered, worriedly tuning to him.
"You sooo owe me a date, then, because I rescued it from the police
before they could use it for evidence," he coyly laughed, taking the
brown bag from the back seat and waving it in front of her face.
"Fine. City Slickers, pick me up at seven. You pay this time," Mel
resigned, taking the satchel from him and giving him a peck on the cheek.
...
Melissa's office building was located right in the heart of the
professional plaza that occupied one half of campus. It, like the rest of
them, looked large with synthetic diamond windows along its sides, even
the roof. A large banner hung over the entrance, declaring "Aeronautics
international". Mal entered it, flashing the badge from her bag at
Gloria, an Amazonian looking security guard, who waved him through. He
relied on Melissa's memories to take her to where her boss, Jason Gates,
was waiting. He laid Melissa's bag down on her desk, before extracting
the manila viewing pad and hurrying to the glass office twenty feet away.
"Sorry, sir, had a little accident this morning," he heaved after running
the entire distance.
"So I heard. I hope you're okay. Just By the way, I still say ditch the
bike. Isn't that your fourth time now," he replied, taking the file from
her. He was short and round, a comically large mustache growing from his
upper lip. He was also part the reason the whole jumpsuits issue was
originally scrapped
"Fifth," Mel corrected him, counting the number f times it came up in her
memory.
"Bah, you are much too adventurous or your age. Anyways, I need you to
look into this new design someone posted, see if you can't find a problem
with it somewhere," he said, a tone of pleading in his voice.
"Right Mr. Gates, Will do," she answered, taking the thin slice of
holographic paper and carrying it back to her office. Laying it on her
desk, she pressed the blue circle that lit the paper. Instantly, a
hologram popped up, showing the 3-d outline of a small craft. Slowly, he
studied it, referencing all existing knowledge of space flight in
Melisa's memory bank. All he could figure generally is that the fuel was
too close to the person, so when the tank would blow, it out be instant
death trap. Then, he started moving the parts around checking the inner
workings of the craft itself. It wasn't very slickly designed; the jagged
arrangements of pipes could easily back up the system and cause the thing
to blow. That would be more than enough for the board to reject it.
Satisfied, he knocked on Mr. Gate's doo, and he waved him in.
"And," he asked excitedly.
"Lucky for you, I wouldn't jump on this thing. Too much of a chance of
explosions," he answered. Pleased, Mr. Gates did a little fist pump.
"Good job, Melissa. I can always count on you," he glowed.
"You WILL have to suggest something soon, you do realize," he asked, deep
concern in his effeminate voice.
"Ya, but not any of Mr. Walowitz's work, I hope. Anyways, that's all I
needed. You go home and get some rest."
He thanked Melissa's boss and was on his way again. To his surprise, her
boyfriend was parked outside, waiting for her.
"Uh, Honey, aren't you supposed to beat work," he asked him worriedly.
"Meh, it was a lull day. Not many people are on site, so I figured I
would come by and take you to lunch so we could spend the evening at
home," he said, not taking his eyes off of a dirty magazine, with women
unzipping their jumpsuits to expose naked skin.
"And why are you reading that," he asked suspiciously. Normally he
wouldn't care, but Melissa, at least from her bio, would have definitely
taken offence to it.
"Getting ready for tonight," he excused, kissing him on the cheek.
"Sure," he laughed.
...
Lunch had been a quick affair. City Slickers wasn't open, but the Burger
Time besides it was and afforded them even more time to get home and "get
busy." He was perturbed that the computer had loaded this scenario, and
had been growing worried over the past hour as the pleasantries had to
become more and more sexual for him to stay in character. He knew that
this would end badly- in bed. Yet, the coaxing mad him act like Melissa,
so there would be no way of stopping it. Then, what would happen? In the
beta mode, 90% of men who got a woman's body and had sex in it actually
died, as if the extreme energy of the act was overloading and literally
frying the user's brain. He just hoped he could at least activate a sub-
quest to diverge from that path.
"Oh, I'm stuffed. Wanna go back to my place," he asked coyly at the
table. Mel couldn't help but giggle, giving Melissa's boyfriend a "come
hither" look. If he was going to diverge from this path, the opportunity
was now. Yet, scanning the environment didn't even reveal a squirrel to
chase. So, playing along and hoping that there would be something like a
car wreck, he allowed Melissa to be escorted out the door and into the
car. To his dismay, not a single accident occurred, and his was drawing
closer to the significant event. He searched for any sign, or even a way
to break the algorithm, but nothing yielded. Even worse, his body seemed
to become less and less under his control. When they parked, he felt
abject horror as Greg lead him up the drive and into the house, stopping
only for an instant to drop the keys off on a basket by the kitchen
before taking him to their bedroom. He fought for control, but he now
only seemed a passenger in the girl's body as they kissed, deep and
passionately. The foreplay became rougher as he unzipped her skin tight
jumpsuit, the cool air touching his sensitive skin. He felt a slight
shock- Melissa was really sensitive! In the back of his mind it felt
good, as if the shock of the air was changing more than the temperature
control on Melissa's skin. As he roughly tugged her out of it, the
feeling became more prevalent as more skin came in contact with the
chilling air. Then, his hand touched her skin. Wait, had he...she...he just
thought of her-himself as Melissa? He was getting scared now, as
progressively she...he was starting to think like Melissa. Shoving the rest
of it off her legs, Mel thought frantically for a solution, but to no
avail. In fact, she was beginning to enjoy it, somewhat.
As his hands roamed her body, she could not help but lower his jumpsuit,
his hard dick popping up as it passed the crotch. She shouldn't be doing
this! She was a Man! Yet, the devilish thought hit her again, and she
coyly wrapped her lips around the beautiful dick and began to move up and
down its pulsating surface. Wait, what had she just called it? Beautiful?
The changes were becoming quicker as Mel became more confused who she
was. Looking up, she caught a glimpse of her boyfriend's face. It wasn't
right, but it was getting harder for Melissa to resist the avatar's
personality. No, her name was...Mel...Mel...Melissa! This was now officially a
"worse" situation, as she was sucking her boyfriend's dick, when she
shouldn't mentally be his girlfriend at all. It was just that he was so
handsome, and charming, and she...loved him! Wait, no, that was not right.
Her name was Melissa, and she loved her boyfriend. Wait! She had just
said it again! In fact, the more she said it, the more lustful she grew.
She tried to remember her old life, only to find out she couldn't. Hadn't
she been the inventor of this system that made this possible? Yet, why
would the creator be on her knees playing with a dick? No, she was an
intern at an aerospace company! No that wasn't right. She moved onto
something else. Family sounded good! She vaguely recalled a wife, which
didn't make sense, as she was a very straight woman. Okay, childhood. She
realized it was getting progressively worse, as memories of growing up a
girl had popped up in her head, without being able to recall what they
had replaced. Yet, if she was a girl, then had they really been replaced?
Just then, he came into her mouth. She shouldn't bet she coyly swallowed
it, coyly eyeing her boyfriend's smile.
"Bad girl, swallowing my semen. I think you need to be punished! On the
bed, now," he ordered, and she obeyed, spreading her to reveal an open
pussy. She shouldn't be doing this for some reason. Yet, as his hard dick
penetrated, waves of pleasure questioned that motive. It felt so GOOD to
be fucked, why couldn't she accept it? She couldn't help but moan in
pleasure. She was his girlfriend, wasn't he? Wave after wave washed over
him, the pressure building. As she climaxed for the first time. OHH, it
felt so good! All inhibition was suddenly gone.
"FUCK ME HARDER," she screamed, and he complied willingly. This continued
for another hour, till she had climaxed ten times, and both fell to the
bed bone tired. She loved the way her nanites allowed her to get more
from sex. Not that it had been any other way, of course. At least not
that she remembered. Wrapping her arms around her man, she fell asleep.
...
Melissa woke up, realizing something was wrong. She looked down to see
her naked body, encrusted in seman! Flicking a bit off from around her
lips, she suddenly remembered what happened last night! She gasped. She
couldn't be sure the glitch was real, but there could be no explanation
why both she's and Mel's had merged into one conflicting memory database.
Conflicting memories of her first date, one where she was an eleven year
old girl at Burger Time, and the other as a 17 year old guy in the year
1980. It all gave her a headache, but she needed to get down to the
bottom of this mystery. Getting dressing, she decided that it was
probably a better idea if she took a shower first. Going into his
bathroom, she slipped off her jumpsuit and got in the shower and turned
the water on. It felt odd, for the first time she could remember, in her
strange mix of girl boy memory bank. The girl's side said it was normal
the guy's side said it wasn't. she could tell it was going to be a long
day. Suddenly, the shower door opened, and a rather naked Greg climbed
in. Again, the conflicting memories dueled over whether to kick him out
or let him stay.
"Hey, baby, taking a shower without me? What's the problem," he asked,
toying with her hair. She stpped a gut reaction to kick him the nuts for
the comment, trying to act as normal as possible.
"Not now, honey. I have a headache," she replied. Her girl part instantly
started complaining, but she did her best to ignore their insistence of
giving in to his temptation.
"I see, need me to drive you down to the medic? Maybe the crash did
something to your nanites," he suggested, nibbling at her neck.
"Probably, but I can drive myself," she sighed. She reallywasn;t going to
go to he medic, she was going to the Q. Something from the male portion
of her memories seemed to duggest it could help her.
"Okay, then. See you tonight," he said, kissing her before leaving the
shower. She hated doing that, but it just didn't seem right for the most
bizarre reason.
...
The Q turned out to be a club, in the middle of the downtown sector. She
doubted a drink would calm her nerves, especially in such a dangerous
part of town, but the male memories seemed to reflect that this was the
place. Pushing open the old wooden doors, she was suddenly assaulted the
overpowering aroma of sweat and cigar smoke. An old speaker system was
blasting some crackled old synth tune, adding to this place's "rustic
appeal." The place was a wreck; tables scattered about, the bar old and
chipped. Even the barman himself looked old, yet ratty at the same time.
His skin was pulled tight over black, plotting eyes, his clothes
reminding her of the slum lord of her first apartment. Of course, that
was instantly rivaled with the memory of an actually very nice dorm room,
back in the 1980's.
"Can I help you, miss," he sneered, leering at her bust. She felt
uncomfortable, both "sides" of her did.
"Yes, she answered. I have a...sensitive cognitive issue, and was told you
could solve it."
"Oh? And what would that be."
"Um, is it possible to discuss this in private?" There was an obvious
creeper at the back table who had also noticed her presence.
"Of course, to my office." There was an unsettling glint in his eye, but
she followed him into the shabby office anyways.
"Now, what's wrong with your brain, dear," he asked, settling down in an
office chair behind the cluttered desk. She took a fold up chair from
against the wall and sat down in it.
"Is it possible to have two sets of memories?"
"Under normal circumstances, no. Why do you ask?"
"I have the distinct memories of some guy named Mel as well as min. He
lived in the 20th to 21st century, as far as I can tell."
"Hmm...Tell me, does your memory recollect anything from yesterday?" she
tried to think; she could only really remember getting in the crash then
waking up in the middle of having sex with Greg.
"No..."
"Ah!" he quickly rummaged through the papers on the desk, pulling out a
coffee stained medical report.
"I'm afraid, my dear, you have been possessed."
"Possessed? By what?"
"Well, I haven't seen it often, but you were temporarily controlled by
this Mel person. You see, it was a minor successful business venture in
the mid 21st century: through what humanity believed to be "virtual
reality," a user would remotely control a person in an "alternate world,"
and live their life as a game. Really, what they were doing was literally
creating an alternate world with the available quantum material in the
continuum, such as our world. What was the first thing you remember after
the gap?" She barely understood what he said, but got the point this Mel
guy had hijacked her body.
"In the middle of sex, with my boyfriend."
Again his eyes lit up, digging back into the files to pull out another
report, giving it to her.
"I know what happened. This guy, Mel, took your body for a day. Part of
the gig was that they had to act the part, so whatever program he was
running forced him to respond like you. He resisted, the program started
replacing you as the dominate personality, essentially zipping you two
together. That's why you have two personalities now."
"Can it be undone? I really don't want to have this guy in my head."
"Unfortunately, I don't really know. You, this guy was struggling because
of a rather famous glitch that would end up destroying the whole product
line. Whenever anyone was in an activity of high energy, like sex, it
overloaded the remote device, and since it was connected directly to the
user's brain, it well...fried the brain."
"Then wouldn't they just die?" she didn't like the way this was going.
"If they were already trying to pull out, then maybe. But, in this case,
this guy was foolish enough not to, leaving the total of his personality
and memories in you. I have to check whether his body survived, but if
it's dead, he may just not have a home to go home to." Instantly, the
male persona started complaining, which got her side complaining about
having to be stuck with this guy, and the total commotion gave her a
painful migraine.
"Is there anything you can do to at least remove him from me without
actually killing him?"
"It's painful, but I can 'unzip' the memories and deposit him into a
robot shell. You'd be out for a few hours, but the result may be worth it
if it's causing you that much pain already."
"Right, do it."
Taking a small device from the desk drawer, he came around the desk. It
looked like an electric razor, but instead of laser blades, it had a
small monitoring device. Wincing, he turned it on and put it on her
forehead. Pain surged as she could feel the two memory banks dislodging
themselves from one another, both screaming. It was too much; she
fainted.
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