“Green light, start stroking.”
His latest discovery wasn’t tagged as a JOI video, and yet there it was, in gorgeous full screen, dictating the rules of engagement. Nadine was a perfect tease in a petite body, one hazelnut eye visible on camera and the other one obscured by platinum blonde locks. Despite her frail complexion, she had the cutest pair of perked up tits he had seen in a while, highlighted by the Lolita-like strapless mini corset dress in red and black PVC she was wearing. Her smile also hit all the right notes of enticement and allure, extending mellifluously to the corners of her glossy lips with every dirty syllable.
Call-centers are weird. Call-centers are exhausting. Call-centers exist, not to promote legitimate thinking, but to fry as many brain cells as possible in sixty seconds. They test one’s patience, the limits of frustration and sheer stupidity all at the same time. Smart people become dumb hearing the dumb complaints on the other side of the line. Dumb people become even dumber, parroting factoids and canned propositions to deaf ears, incapable of even acknowledging what’s being said. He hated the amorphous boundaries of his workplace, the raspy microphone next to his mouth, and the gopher-faced yuppie that had parachuted his way to a leadership position without a clear understanding of what that word entailed. A lot of things to hate, and just one way to shake them off.
“White light,” he heard her say, echoing with an extra layer of depth through the speakers.
“Red light, stop and take a breather. Put your hands to the side and stretch your fingers if you feel a slight numbness on the tips,” the video continued, shattering any illusion of interactivity he could conceive in his mind’s eye. Trent cleared his throat, allowed the air to pass through at steady intervals. Only four minutes had elapsed and there were still sixteen more in the queue, making hers one of the longest videos in the last eight months. Bushy Carmen’s – or was it Camille? – still clocked the longest, but more than half of the fifty-minute romp comprising shots of crossing and uncrossing her legs while droning the “horny slut” moniker non-stop. He had never returned to her website to that date and had no intentions to.
“Green light and listen to the beat. I want you to keep up with it, alternating between hands. This will get rough, so you better be prepared to get a hold of yourself. If even a drop of pre-cum comes to the surface, you will lick it and, if you dare to cum without permission, chances are you are never getting off again!” she giggled.
Nadine’s rhythm was strong, a heavy bass line interspersed with the sound of a mechanical beating heart. His hands moved fast to stay in perfect synch, never going for a full stroke but rather snappy rubs. It was a lot like rope-climbing in high-school. He missed P.E. Classes, the nubile shapes of the wannabe cheerleaders, Mrs. Jenkins’ ass protruding from the neon spandex leggings… his thoughts derailed into those long-gone years of basketball finals and making out under the bleachers… the heart beating faster, the pacing getting louder…
Okay, now he was absolutely, 100% sure to have heard that. It wasn’t just an aural trick, a rapid dissociation between body and mind. The words lingered on with a slight vibrato, two converted to four, none of which made sense. Adding to the unequivocal echo still ringing in his ears, there was a visual confirmation, too. A filter of diaphanous blankness now enveloped her face, dominating the whole screen and rendering most of her features blurry, save for the visible eye and lips. The details he couldn’t see gave way to an intriguing display of void, negative space consuming the positive one. The rhythm intensified as he tried to come to terms with the present absence before him.
He blinked in response, and the glow vanished. The bass echoed one last time before fading away. She sat in bed, legs stretched, naked toes beckoning. It was the first time he was seeing them. They were pretty, though not as pretty as her porcelain face.
No, absolutely not. He had to make it to the end at least, before deciding if it was worth it to look more stuff of her online. Strange interruptions notwithstanding, the scales were tipping in her favor. He had a feeling she would look fantastic in leather, hmm… leather had such a wonderful smell…
“I can kneel, no problem,” he nodded forward, left hand already working to build himself up again. The floor was cold, perhaps a bit too cold. The central heating was broken again, no doubt about it. That was what? The fourth malfunction in two months? It was time to have a conversation with the landlord to negotiate a better rent.
“White light means nothingness, complete relaxation. While it’s on, you may keep stroking if you wish, or you may choose not to. Either way, it doesn’t matter. Don’t stop to think about what it might mean. Try to stop thinking and then… do it.”
She smiled from behind the veil of whiteness that, once again, rose to meet him, and he stopped halfway through, a futuristic statue crystallized in a single moment, yet still keeping enough elasticity to give off an impression of unbridled energy. White fell upon his eyelids, wings fluttered within dreamy anesthesia.
Trent said nothing, for anything he could say would cause a slurred syllable, a babbling word, an inebriated sentence.
“That word is… hard. Yes, hard. I love the way the letters that compose it swirl around my tongue every time I let them out but, most of all, I love the effects that follow it, the changes in the surrounding world with each repetition. Pay attention… hard… hard… hard…”
“I know you felt the energy being channeled, its rippling waves sending shivers down your spine, but perhaps you didn’t feel it as you should have because a part of you is still busy, trying to struggle against the white… you can relax because you’re safe, and safety brings about increased focus. Focus more intently on my words and let’s give it another go, shall we? This time around, I will use the word in a couple of sentences so listen good, listen hard…
“It’s so hard to fight the increasing flow of sensations, the luscious images pouring from every known direction and converging inside your spellbound mind… mentioning the word hard again just hardens it even more for you… hardness is more than a simple manifestation of physical pleasure, it’s also a doctrine of the spirit, so hard to ignore…”
“Keep growing harder and harder, blank and hard for me, so many endorphins unleashed, so many paths to explore… let’s go down the hardest one, the hard chiseled one that ends on a hard wall of erotic pleasure. Your head bangs hard against it, and becomes even harder, bigger, gigantic, hard, hard, hard…”
“The harder it gets between your legs, the softer it becomes everywhere else. Hard cock, hard balls, soft reasoning, soft mind… Too hard to think when you’re hard for me, too hard to not want to be hard like this all the time… so hard and receptive, so hard and obedient, so hard and ensla…
Trent saw the white light falling in flakes inside his bedroom, controlled purity to control him further. It descended upon his hair, glued itself to his eyelashes, made its flavor known in his dry tongue. It was so good, so liberating. White light, new life. The need to orgasm subsided but remained in waiting, ready to be reactivated at any time.
The number flashed from black to white, and everything special melted at the video’s end. Trent remained still and serene for a few minutes, still hearing fragments of the familiar challenge, now rendered dull. At great cost, he pulled himself back together, grabbed his boxers and zipped his pants. A memory whirred, its gears pulling him to the phone. He smiled like an innocent child, followed its trail and punched in the right sequence, 9448354448, each number cementing the trigger deep inside his mind:
“Hello,” she began. “I don’t know who you are, but I know you watched my video. I also know you’re one of the few that made this call and, for that, I’m grateful. You got a taste of something different, something special, something that can go a long way if you’re willing to take the steps forward. Things will change, but change can be a good thing if properly guided so… stranger on the line, it is time for that question I told you about in the video, and it is time for your answer. What do you want?”
Nadine laughed like she hadn’t laughed in millennia and, who knows, perhaps that was true.
“Nice to meet you, Trent. And yes, my name really is Nadine. Does that surprise you?”
“I’m full of surprises, as you’ll come to discover. I hope you’re sitting down,” she chirped.
“Good. Let’s have fun, shall we? See you inside the white light.”