6/14/01 – Mars Lovely
NOTE: This chapter is mostly plot. No sex, no real action.
Other installments of the story contains elements of an adult nature,
and those less than 18 years of age, or those who are offended by bondage;
non-consensual sex or rape and torture should read no further. All characters are the creation of the
author.
The Surprise
The MAS suit came in two
parts. The visible arm bands, goggles,
and metallic garter and stockings, and the invisible skein of nano circuitry
that covered Rachael’s body. The
secretive Operator, who she knew only as a disembodied voice communicating to
her through blue tinted goggles, controlled both parts. Through a nearly invisible disc that floated
over her, enabled the paralyzed woman to walk again. Walk, run, leap, left tremendous weights, essentially every thing
a good super heroine is required to do.
Though it was the silvery
armbands and stocking that enabled her perform her feats of super human strength,
it was the invisible web of circuitry that coordinated the movement of her slim
athletic body. Rachael was a spectator
to this. She could neither feel her
body nor directly control her movements.
That was the trade off, either watching the world from her bedroom
window, or being moved through it. At
least as a super heroine, she could serve her community, and occasionally the
whims of the Operator. If nothing else,
the view was better.
It was late in the afternoon
when the faint glow of the nano circuits coming online caught Rachael’s
attention. She very subtly nodded her
head causing the sunglasses balanced on her head to slip down on to her
face. When properly worn, these glasses
acted much like her MASsy goggles, allowing the Operator to see and hear
everything she could, as well as letting them communicate silently among
themselves. Her nursing assistant
continued about her business in the other room, softly humming to herself as
she washed the dishes.
The Operator’s voice greeted
her. “Rachael, I have a surprise for
you…”
In the kitchen, the nurse’s
beeper went off, and she rushed over to Rachael. Pushing the sunglasses back to rest on her forward, the
middle-aged mother explained that she had to rush out to pick her son up from
practice early. Before she left, she
positioned Rachael’s call button on her shoulder so she could call for help
from one of the other nurses, if she needed it. Quickly gathering her things, she hurried out the door.
No sooner then she stepped
out the door, the remote disc hovered out from under her chair to float above
her head. Receiving transmitted signals
from the disc, she stood bringing the sunglasses back into place and resting
the call button in her wheelchair.
Her body stretched, and then
suddenly cart wheeled into the bedroom.
She walked into her closet, and pulled a box of her old clothes out and
began to lay them out on the bed. The
Operator, through the sunglasses, was looking through some of the sexy “bad
girl” dresses Rachael had favored when hitting the dance clubs before she had
been paralyzed.
“What kind of surprise is
today? Bank robbery, kidnapping, cat
caught in a tree?” There had never
seemed to be a pattern to when the Operator called on her. Sometimes they would just talk for hours
like friends, other times it would be relentless practicing of routines and
exercising. Lately they had been
venturing out into the city more.
Engaging in fights with criminals, and just last week they had fought
their first actual super villain.
Plasmatrix had been spotted
in a local hotel. She had been on a
high profile crime spree and Operator had intercepted a report from the police
dispatch to the Special Tactics Unit.
That was the division solely focused on apprehending Meta humans and
other “greater then human threats.”
Their targets however seldom saw the courtroom portion of the American
legal system. With the increasing
number of Meta human activities, the Federal government had contracted a high
tech think group called Biowulf to handle the ‘special needs’ of the super
powered criminal element.
Knowing that back up was
minutes away; the Operator had sent MASsy in to confront the villianess. It had nearly been a disaster. Plasmatrix’ psychogenic flames had disrupted
the communications between the MAS and the remote disc, leaving Rachael
paralyzed and at her mercy. Unknown to
the Operator, Plasmatrix’ flames weren’t completely destructive. She could use them to mentally entice her
victims into a sexual frenzy. Aside
from being physically immobile, Rachael had been aroused to such a point she
wouldn’t have fought back if she could.
For two long years, Rachael had felt absolutely nothing below her
shoulders, and then suddenly she felt like she was having the best sex of her
life. Plasmatrix didn’t have the
opportunity to actually touch her, before the Operator resumed control and
defeated the villianess.
Rachael secretly toyed with
the thought of what might have happened if she had. Plasmatrix was a beautiful young red head, maybe a few years
older then herself. Though Rachael had
not been a lesbian before being paralyzed, she had never found the idea of
making love to a beautiful woman unappealing.
Rachael’s recollection of
the event was disrupted by the Operator’s mechanically altered voice. She was holding a small black dress in front
of herself, looking it over in the mirror.
“This will do,” the Operator commented. Within minutes she had changed from the t-shirt and sweat pants
into her MASsy costume, which mostly consisted of a one-piece shiny black
bathing suit. Quite unexpectedly, she
tucked the silver stocking down low, inside a pair of go-go boots, slipping the
black dress over her shoulders. She
stashed the armbands in her purse and looked back into the mirror. She looked very alluring, standing tall and
powerful, better in fact then she did before being crippled.
“We won’t be lifting a
cars tonight” the Operator joked, “but better to have the whole suit
nearby in case of emergency.”
Leaving the assisted living
community was never much of a challenge.
The staff and security cameras were concerned with folks getting in, not
with the disabled residents miraculously rising from their beds and wheelchairs
and leaping over the twelve-foot perimeter walls. But now, without the silver armbands and stockings, Rachael was
no more powerful then an average woman.
She should in the shadow of a large tree and waited for the
Operator. “I may look great, but these
boots were made for walking,” she joked looking at the black leather boots with
a thick high heel.
“Let’s try something new
today,” the Operator commented. The
disc silently lowered to within reach.
She reached up and grasped its edges.
Slowly the disc lifted her up and over the wall. Safely outside the walls she dropped to the
soft grass and the disc assumed it regular altitude.
“Do you mean to tell me I
could be riding that damn thing around the city all this time when you have me
running and jumping from building to building?”
“No, it doesn’t have the
strength to carry you very far, or very fast.
It wasn’t designed for that, but a short little hop that that shouldn’t
drain its batteries much. Besides all
that running and jumping helps keep your body fit.”
Rachael walked to the
sidewalk and down to the street. It
seemed bizarre to be walking around like a normal person. She had begun to adjust to being paralyzed
when she was chosen for the MAS, and had come to terms with running all over
town as MASsy. But to walk down a hill
and hail a cab was amazing, a mind-boggling experience. She was almost her old self. Almost.
Half an hour later, Rachael
was sitting in a dark theatre absently eating popcorn and watching the new Tomb
Raider movie. She sat isolated in the
back row, surrounded by a predominantly male audience who were half watching
their video game idol kicking ass and half watching Rachael in her revealing
dress and sunglasses. As the movie went
on, Rachael felt an odd tingle. She
wouldn’t have given it a second thought except she wasn’t capable of feeling
anything.
“Don’t mind if you notice
any thing odd,” the Operator chimed in, “I’m adjusting some the settings
based on the analysis of your encounter with Plasmatrix.”
“Analysis?” Rachael
questioned. “I thought the plasma
interference had jammed up your sensors?”
She began to feel embarrassed, remembering the intense pleasure she had
felt at the hands of her opponent.
Though the Operator was intimately familiar with the most banal of her
bodily functions, realizing that he might have been witness to utter enjoyment
of the sensations discomforted her. She
felt the same wave of warm blushing sweep over her from when her dorm mate had
walked in on her while going down on her boy friend in college. Not quite shame because it was somewhat
enticing to be caught as well.
“I’m detecting elevated
body temperatures, Rachael, is Lara Croft turning you on or something?”
She suppressed her thoughts
about the villianess, and her old boyfriend.
“Not likely Ops!” she chided back, then noticed that Angelina Jolie did
indeed cut a strikingly attractive Tomb Raider. They had cast that role right.
She watched closely as the actress danced through another fight scene,
and wondered if she looked that good when tussling with the bad guys.
“Ow!” Rachael exclaimed as a
small jolt of electricity shocked her shoulders. She turned and looked over her shoulder. “Ops, what was that?”
“Remember, I see
everything you see…I thought you were getting a little too interested in the
plot, or what passes for it here”
The Operator began to talk,
or rant more precisely, about the degrading standards for American films. He went on and on about how superior the
European films were, and how the Independent moviemakers were being corrupted
by the lure of big budget films. Rachael
tapped her foot lightly on the sticky floor, impatiently tolerating the
commentary. She reached up and slid the
glasses up to her forehead. It didn’t
silence the voice, but it did help distance it so she could enjoy the
film. Sipping soda from her cup, she
wiped her wet fingers down her arm. The
water chilled her.
It slowly dawned on
her. The tingle. The shock.
She had looked over her shoulder.
She had pushed the glasses up.
She had reached for her soda, felt the moisture, and the chill of the
condensation. The MAS hadn’t. She didn’t feel anything even with the
suit. She hadn’t moved her body on her
own accord in years, yet she had just done it.
Looking down she watched as she made her foot tap on the sticky
floor. It started and stopped at her
command. Amazed, she didn’t notice the
increasing volume of the Operator as he called her name. A flick of her neck brought the sunglasses
back in place.
“What…what the hell is
happening Ops? I can move!” She immediately tried to stand, but felt a
slight pressure as the MAS kept her sitting.
“Don’t go jumping up and
ruining this fine cinematic masterpiece for the other now!” Operator deadpanned. “As I mentioned, I made some adjustments
in how the nano circuits interact with your neural link.”
“I noticed in the video
feeds from the hotel security cameras, that you continued to move after all
transmissions from the remote disc had ceased.
At first I thought it was an effect of the plasma, but after time indexing
the video with the biofeedback telemetry, I realized that the mental
stimulation from Plasmatrix’ attack had temporarily bridged your brain to the
nano circuits. Instead of using my
electronic feeds to move you, your nervous system had rerouted itself through
the suit. It wasn’t graceful or
refined, but it was all you writhing out there. I was up all night experimenting with the neural frequencies
trying to duplicate Plasmatrix’ influence, and it looks like it worked.”
Rachael began to struggle
against the suit, trying to stand up. “Let
me go damn it, let me stand up!”
The crowd turned and looked
at her, and she quickly settled down.
“Listen, your nervous
system isn’t ready to fend for itself.
The few simple movements were a test.
Your readings are already erratic, it you tried to walk out of her now,
and you might not make it five feet before you began to have seizures! You might do incalculable damage to your
synapses! So much that even the suit wouldn’t
be able to assist you!”
“But I want to do something,
I want to move!” Rachael felt tears of
frustration building up. She had long
ago put aside tears for her situation and focused all her energy, first on
adjusting to her disability, then on being MASsy. But now, with freedom so close at hand she couldn’t keep her
emotions buried any longer. Her hand
lifted up to her check and rubbed the tear away. She felt the warm water on her fingertip and her check.
“Listen, you will move,
you’ll walk and run, in time. For two
years your brain hasn’t processed any sensations south of your chin. If I opened up all the connections, the
sensory overload would crash your brain like Windows XP!”
Rachael’s rational side
reasserted itself, and she ignored the cheap Microsoft joke. “How long,” she started, “how long will it
take before I can do it myself? Do it
all without you?”
“I’m sorry to hear you
are so hot to be rid of me, Rachael.”
The Operator was silent for a moment.
“I have no idea how long it would take for you body to adjust. This has never happened before, and frankly,
it never even occurred to me that this might happen. Even if you could adapt to this tomorrow, the suit itself will
require its regular maintenance. You’ll
never be like before, but there is a chance you might be able to have a more
normal life.”
Rachael sat stunned. She couldn’t let herself ponder the
opportunities. It would be too cruel if
it didn’t happen, to be so close and lose it all again.
“Well, there is something
else,” the Operator continued, “we can share the load…”
“Share the load?”
“We’ll I can allow you to
control the movements, but shield you from most of the sensations. Slowly acclimate your mind to the sensory
interface. I can protect you from
accidentally injuring yourself, like I do now, but allow you to decide what you
do…”
“I want to go for a walk,”
she said.
Planting her hands against
the arms of the theatre chair, she stood.
Awkwardly at first, she slowly moved her way down the stairs and out of
the theatre into the darkening night.