Archive-name: Fantasy/karene2.txt Archive-author: Jim and Meg Norris Archive-title: Karen Eliot's Excellent Adventures # 2 Karen sat at her bar in the small pool of light cast by a desk lamp. She keyed the remote and was immediately jolted by the intense volume in her headphones. She quickly adjusted to the digital rock'n'roll. She extracted one of the two sugar cubes from the small ziploc and dropped it into the clear water which about half filled the blue crystal glass. Karen watched the thin tendrils and bubbles climbing upward from the dissolving cube. When only a vestige of the cube remained, Karen stirred the water. The painted Emperor penguin atop the glass stir stick turned and spun. Clasped lightly in Karen's regal fingers, it completed the ceremonial preparation. Karen raised the glass and drank the water in several unhurried swallows. With a phrase, she invoked her hypnotically- installed interface metaphor and prepared to enter the always open playground of her mind. Karen closed her eyes. As always, the first effect to hit was the intense joy. Beyond euphoria, she was lit by the electric pleasure of cognition. The acceleration of her awareness took Karen's breath away. She was filled with a sense of vibrant energy; restless, resisting confinement, awaiting purpose. Karen waited, still and receptive, enjoying her most powerful and balanced hit of L+ yet. Her face was transformed by a wide grin. Everything that she experienced seemed hilarious. The boundless soul laughed at every aspect of its voluntary earthly confinement. The joyous feelings mellowed and Karen could feel the visual effect hitting. She opened her eyes. Her will twisted the perspective of her view. With slight effort, she could see the framework of points underlying her previous perspective. Karen loved to come to the grid of brilliant spectral colors pulsing on a background of the deepest black. She shifted her perspective further into the grid. The perception of her immediate surroundings become masked by the perspective switching. With the underlying grid mostly in violet with some green, she could see her world alongside. With the grid shifted to yellow and blue, her world became a fading afterimage. The final displacement was to orange and red grid lines. The delicate flows between the white node points connected by the grid lines were clearly discernable. Karen relaxed, her mind still. When she felt totally cleansed, Karen twisted her perspective back to her physical circumstances. The point framework faded, but the clear joy remained. Karen tamped the last of her Mendocino purple kush into the bong bowl. She smoked several hits of the famous one-hit shit. Karen piloted her 16-valve yupster through the thickening early morning traffic. She drove to her favorite regional park, occasionally playing with the shapes of the fluffy clouds to the sounds of blasting rock'n'roll. The promising gusts of wind earlier had picked up to a steady breeze. She was easily able to fit into the street side parking space left by a suit driving a boat that didn't quite look like his father's Oldsmobile. Karen removed the two bags with her gear from the car and set off on foot. Her favorite visual hallucination was immediately operational; the clouds were false colored. The resolution improved as she watched. Horizontal and vertical movement was highlighted to the degree of magnitude. Movement tails were plotted against the latlong grid on the sky that suddenly appeared. Her left eye displayed additive color mixture and her right showed subtractive mixture. She blinked rapidly several times before establishing gray scale; positive on left, negative on right. With several more blinks she tested the binocular gray of her shaded object view mode. She switched the tactical overlay on and enjoyed the instant replacement. Dense monochrome axial and edge lines defined the plotted objects in her wireframe view mode. She blinked rapidly and switched the representation color; red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet. Trees moving in the breeze appeared as fractal fluff. She toyed briefly with switching visibility of the hidden lines before halting on the small hilltop that she'd walked to. The position was ideal for kite flying; an unobstructed hilltop with a comfortably calm lee side. Karen willed the visual hallucination suite off. Once Karen had unpacked everything that she needed, the special components of her custom kite were arrayed about her in small unitary bags. Moving lithely, she fitted the machined alloy tubes through the fabric. With some flexing of the frame tubes, the assembly locked into position. The dihedral looked perfect to her practiced eye. She quickly attached her toys to the kite. This was to be the final test of the digital camera. The stoner-friendly components were a cinch to connect and test. The kite ready, Karen swiftly connected the signal processor and the display to the power pack. Her nipples hardened as she stood facing the oncoming chill wind with the black shark kite. Once she released the two meter long kite, it tugged aggressively to achieve altitude. The ratchet on the reel of line stopped clicking at full extension. Karen hooked the reel to a concrete-anchored barbecue grill. The kite would easily stay aloft all day, given wind. Karen plugged her goggles into the display plate. She tested the trackball controlled lens movements. The stabilized lens mount really cut down on vertigo. She switched through her visual hallucination series satisfactorily with the remote device. The view was centered downwind from her position. Karen started looking at her surroundings in an expanding spiral from the duck pond directly below the kite. She tarried briefly while watching the city maintenance crew loafing near the lake's pump housing. Only a single weather-beaten Pinto occupied the nearest parking lot. Karen spotted a boy walking purposefully toward the junked out ovenmobile where an equally weathered man sat eating a burrito in it. The boy had the eager, slightly feral look of someone exposed to particularly harsh realities of life at too young an age. The lad leaned in the passenger side window and apparently spoke with the driver. As he walked away he stopped and seemed to meet another person whom Karen hadn't noticed. The kid and the woman walked together toward the Pinto. Both crowded at the window briefly. Karen twiddled the controls to get maximum zoom and the best angle. She watched something pass hands from the woman to the driver. Then the woman and the boy got into the car. They crowded together in the middle of the car making detailed observation impossible. After a few minutes the woman and boy got out of the car. It occurred that the similarities in appearance and expression suggested a familial relationship. Had the kid set up a deal for his mom? Spiraling wider, Karen took in the surrounding neighborhood. The immediate view was a jumble of air conditioners, fireplaces, antennae, and dilapidated roofing. The yards proved to be barely more interesting, with the usual domestic animals and uninspired gardening. Still, things were not without potential as the viewing mechanism came to rest and Karen watched a woman stroking herself with tanning oil. Almost as if she had willed it the elegant woman's hand was dipping into her scant bikini bottom. The woman gave herself over to the pleasure of it and Karen absently licked the fine sheen of perspiration above her lips. Peripheral motion caught Karen's attention. The Smith's Department Store delivery van stopped at the curb in front of the woman's house. The driver walked up to the porch and waited. Karen scanned back to the poolside. Apparently in oblivion, the woman had just found the extended nub of her clitoris. Karen read her lips, "Oh...fuck...fuck me, Jim...oh...God! Fuck meee...". Waves seemed to engulf her as she sank her hand deeper into her cunt, making her shudder with orgasm. She relaxed on the lawn. Apparently she hadn't noticed the delivery man standing on her porch watching her. Karen knew that she had something here that was better than soap operas. If this followed the hallowed script line, the coy bitch would play kinda hard to get, yet a hot wench once coerced into putting out. Karen watched the woman get up and face the delivery man. The cups of her halter dangled, her proud breasts displayed openly. The look on her face as she whipped the guilty hand behind her back was priceless. She shook her tits and rolled her pelvis enticingly while upholding the verbal pretense of fighting off an over-eager admirer. He approached her and ran his hand over her breasts. She raised her pubic mound in horny response, "No, please, don't. I'll give you money." His immediate reply was, "Keep it. I'll do it for free!" Skip and Barbara introduced themselves once they were satisfied that they were committed to fucking by the rules of the mating ritual. Skip finger fucked Barbara briefly before helping her out of her sodden bikini. Barbara freed Skip's erection from his jeans and began stroking it. She kissed and licked his cock lightly and insisted that he fuck her. Skip knelt over Barbara, slipped his massive hardon into her sloshing cunt, and proceeded to pump furiously. Karen noticed what must have been neighbor kids atop the wall at the back of Barbara's property. As she watched, two boys jumped down and ran away. The others, a boy and a girl of about the same age, stared unabashedly at the rutting adults. Karen turned her attention back to Barbara and Skip. Barbara's thrashing was either seizures, or she was coming big time. Just a moment later, Skip began jabbing his pelvis against Barbara's crotch with severe determination. Following their mutual orgasm, Barbara began protesting vociferously. Skip didn't seem deterred and Skip began licking Barbara's tits and belly. Karen looked back at the kids on the wall. The kids who had run away were back. They passed something rather large to their friends on top of the wall. It was a videocam! They got it going just as Skip started licking at Barbara's pussy. While continuing to lick and suck Barbara's drenched box, Skip straddled her, positioning his dong above her mouth. Barbara greedily mouthed his meat with abandon. Karen watched the two lovers perform for the juvenile audience. Eventually, both came again, but this time they collapsed afterward in exhaustion. The sex apparently complete, Karen continued her widening spiral scan. Karen was still hot from her shameless voyeurism. She unzoomed and tried to chill out. It was some time before her consciousness expanded to perceive the coverage area fully, without effort. After a period she lost track of watching and just watched. She felt the cold edges of eternity as the individuality of her perception faded. Thoroughly refreshed, Karen took off the display goggles and arose. The ultra-stable shark wasn't as thrilling to fly by hand as most kites, but was fun nonetheless. She unhooked the reel from the barbecue and stood on her local hilltop, anchoring the peeping shark. Karen was starting to become bored with the kite when she noticed a young man approaching. The smiling face of don Genaro was pasted over the approaching stranger. She hated it when that happened. The Castaneda clan, who considered her to be some kind of witch, invaded her lofty highs periodically. Karen had to wait out the limited power of the ally which was reduced by ignoring it. Meanwhile, in a thought bubble over her head, an icon-sized Yaqui sorcerers apprentice scribbled in his hilarious notebooks. "Happy Earth Day, Karen", Genaro said. "Piss on that", Karen said as she continued to fly her kite. "What?", Genaro smiled. "Happy Earth First! day", Karen replied. "What's it matter what you call it as long as we act together to save the planet?" "You sound like the environmental president. Let's link arms across Amerika and pretend. Let's pretend that someone else will fix things. Save it for the yuppie swine." "Okay, what're you doing?" "Well, let me see. I'm shipping a crate of special tree spikes, writing to imprisoned Firsters, and planting trees. And that's today." Unsure of the man's exact identity, she posed an insider question, "How's the titty project"? "Beautiful! The tiny turbofan was incredible. We got much better performance from the zeppelin than expected. And quiet? Almost inaudible at altitude. How's the vid?" "It's perfect. I taped some haus frau fucking a delivery man in her back yard over there", she said, pointing to the subdivision next to the park. "And I wasn't the only one. The kids next door are going to make her a local celebrity." Still, don Genaro could have been one of several men. But, which one? Another insider question, "And the navware?" "Haven't heard, but that was the easiest part. I'm sure it's go", Genaro responded. With the realization that she was speaking to Roger Wilco, the airframe contractor, the don Genaro face disappeared, leaving Roger's craggy, but handsome features. The figure in the thought bubble paused and looked up before vanishing. "I've got a solid lead on the fundy mentalists", Roger announced. "A church that they gather at before descending on clinics. An OR organizer flew in for a meeting tonight." Used to the short notice which was often involved in monkeywrenching, Karen pressed for details, "What's their security?" "Jesus and the parking lot lights." "What're you doing?", Karen asked, her interest piqued. "Placing caltrops. There should be a nearly full parking lot, and we have enough for all. There's even enough for the helpful tow trucks and supportive friends." Without reservation, Karen agreed to the date. She traded turns with Roger hauling in the peeping shark. Karen negotiated the suburban streets according to the instructions that she'd received. She found the health spa with little effort. She'd passed on several previous occasions, but had been unimpressed by the lack of business that was evident. If the grounds were any indication, the spa wasn't doing any too well. She parked under the shade the nearest tree to the door. The information desk was right inside the door. Karen was pleased to be recognized when she introduced herself to the pretty brunette. During the time that she waited for her masseuse, Karen watched the swimmers in the olympic pool beyond the plate glass. Several men and a woman played hide-and-seek games enthusiastically. Dena, who would her masseuse, was not what Karen had expected. She was a short, plump, Latina with a kindly but deferential manner. Dena led Karen to a private massage room. Once the door was closed, she withdrew a small pipe and her stash of Humboldt skunk from her purse. As she loaded the pipe she explained to Karen, "It's an excellent high. No seeds". The women sat calmly and puffed the bowl to dust. Karen roused herself from her mental fog and stood, gracefully pulling the pinafore dress over her head. Her tits jiggled delightfully when she shook her hair out. Almost as an afterthought, she slipped her bikini panties off and stepped out of her sandals. She dropped all three articles of clothing on the chair which she'd just been sitting in and and lay face on the prepared table. Dena waited, warming the oil in hands that had sturdy, practiced fingers. Karen hadn't taken note of Dena's covert appreciation of her gorgeous body as she disrobed. Starting with a sweeping arch that took in Karen's shoulders and the upper portion of her back, Dena began. Her fingers worked in concert to slowly knead the areas that offered resistance. Karen felt the tension retreat as Dena worked her flesh with warm circular pressure. Dena used delicate touches to relax Karen's neck and scalp before turning her attentions to Karen's lower back. Captivated by the gentle curve of Karen's sweetly freckled ass, Dena cupped and rubbed the lovely buttocks. Karen automatically spread her legs apart as Dena stroked her upper thighs. Dena thoroughly rubbed Karen's shapely legs. As she proceeded toward Karen's ankles she was overcome by the perfect picture of split tail. Dena bent Karen's legs up at the knees and began a detailed study of her feet. Her fingers traced every detail of Karen's toes, arches, and heels. Karen rolled over at the easy touch. Dena intertwined her fingers between Karen's toes and lightly sucked and licked between them, the while rolling her fingers along the tender arch. Karen's erect nipples testified to her growing excitement. She arched her back involuntarily and moaned excitedly from the wonderful sensory overload. Dena's expert hands kneaded Karen's calf. She massaged Karen's upper thigh and knee. Karen's legs gradually spread further apart revealing her moist and puffy pussy. Dena rubbed the other leg from the thigh to the knee and ankle. Finally, she gave Karen's left foot equal treatment. While Karen relaxed, Dena moved around to Karen's side. She made several applications of oil to Karen's chest, manipulating her breasts gently. Dena lost herself briefly playing with Karen's firm and shapely tits. The well oiled mounds conformed to the constantly changing pressure from her hands, but immediately returned to their pert contours when released. Dena concentrated her efforts on each breast in turn once Karen's nips came up; one hand shifting and sliding, the other tugging and twisting the sensitive nipple. When she could tear herself away, Dena bent over and lightly kissed each of Karen's coral-colored nips. Only the slightest pressure was required to prompt Karen to reposition herself on the table. From slender feet to tapered calves to slim thighs, Dena relished the view of Karen's shapely legs dangling from the table. She felt nothing short of adoration for the flower of womanly flesh nestled in Karen's downy pubes. Dena dabbed special spice-scented oil on Karen's swollen mound, rubbing gently around and around. She brushed the fleshy inner lips and saw the first drops of translucent dew. With practiced strokes, Dena manipulated the lubricated labia. She caressed the clitoral hood with one hand while easing the index finger of the other into the snug pussy. She tantalized the hardened pea and the delicate labial fold. Dena added more oil and began screwing her finger in and out of Karen's cunt; slowly at first, but faster and faster in tempo to Karen's bucking hips and inarticulate moans. When she got the track of Karen's approaching orgasm Dena carefully synced her motions, until the orgasmic waves from Karen's clit and G-spot cascaded over her repeatedly. Dena slipped the amyl capsule from her stash while Karen relaxed, laying back, breathing raggedly. As soon as Karen was desensitized, Dena lowered her mouth to Karen's crotch and exhaled warmly. Dena reamed the point of her delicate tongue into the puckered rosebud of Karen's asshole. Karen moaned gently and rubbed an erect nipple between forefinger and thumb of one hand while she played with Dena's glossy mane with the other hand. Aroused by the musky femininity, Dena began licking the length of Karen's slit with fervor, occasionally tugging her pussy lips gently, or nuzzling her swollen clit. As she licked gentle circular patterns, Dena prepared to crush the capsule. She carefully led Karen to the edge of orgasm; hips gyrating, rolling her pussy wantonly, crazed. Karen had just started her hard climax when she smelled the medicinal odor. Instantly, the vasodilator hit and Dena jammed a finger in her ass. Karen rode the forever acceleration of rocket-boosted- orgasm nearly to seizures before it faded. She lay back, spent and exhausted. Dena slowly arose and walked to Karen's side where she leaned over and cuddled the redhead gently. They snuggled briefly before Dena patted Karen's sweet ass and stepped away to prepare the shower. Karen got up once she heard the water running. The shower was a freestanding pipe in the corner with a massage shower head on a hose. A tile sill provided a shallow basin around the drain. Karen was captivated by the radiant smile which Dena sported as she soaped a washcloth. Invigorated by the very scent of the lathered mint soap as she approached, Karen slipped into the steamy shower. Karen raised her arms and intertwined her fingers behind her head while Dena began walking around her, rinsing her with the needle spray hot water. When Dena hung the shower head on the pipe Karen turned to direct the massaging water on her shoulders and upper back. Dena knelt and eased Karen's legs apart. She gently yet thoroughly washed the blushing snatch with the stimulating soap. Dena turned off the shower and patted a large fluffy towel against Karen's lightly freckled skin, drying her completely. The two women hugged warmly before returning to Karen's clothes and a final smoke before Karen dressed and left for the swimming pool. Roger Wilco had all the equipment set up and tested at the safe house before Karen arrived late in the evening. They awaited the cabal contact who was to direct the signoff mission of the zeppelin. Hedda Steam was an old friend of Karen's, but Roger only knew her from construction review meetings. Roger answered the knock at the door. The raven-haired Amerind was as beautiful, and as businesslike, as ever. Roger led her to the back bedroom where the computers and radios were arrayed. Karen and Hedda embraced warmly and pecked each others cheeks. Karen offered the first hit of red-haired sinse to Hedda, who obliged by lighting the bong and drawing deeply. After several passes of the pipe, the three were relaxed and ready. The mischief was about to begin. Karen and Hedda had watched Roger transmit the flight instructions that had allowed the zeppelin to shadow the formation of six Bell 206 utility helicopters. With several keystrokes, Roger selected the radio navaids to be jammed. It was no small coincidence that the formation was currently relying on them for navigation. With a press of the RETURN key, programming was uploaded to the special pod which was attached to the zeppelin. The chopper pilots became concerned when red flags started to extend into the faces of their radio navigation instruments. They switched through the various VOR frequencies available to them and found the same static everywhere. The cabal mission outline had optimistically projected that the malathion sprayers would abort their mission and return to base once they could no longer rely on absolute positioning. That hope was shattered when the lead pilot ordered continuing on visual. "Charlie Mike", he'd called on the radio as he began the final turn, leading the legal urban aerial poisoning of sleeping families. Hedda nodded and Roger selected and transmitted another program. The zeppelin began forging the signals returned by the altitude-encoding radar transponders of the formation. Roger, Hedda, and Karen waited a tense few minutes, listening for trouble. When none came, Hedda nodded again and Roger sent an initiating signal. In an instant, the helicopters all appeared to have been hijacked. The air traffic controllers saw the assigned squawk codes turn to 7500 in one sweep of the interrogating radar beam. The nightmare was only starting for the controllers. Their calls weren't heard or returned by the formation. The pilots were apparently getting somewhat edgy about the loss of communication as well. Unable to communicate with one another, the pilots broke formation according to contingency plan. Once the formation began breaking up, the zeppelin changed the forged squawk codes to 7700; emergency. The encoded altitude was rapidly decreased until the signal was completely blanked. The controllers believed that the choppers had crashed and began responding accordingly. Roger transmitted the final program. The zeppelin ceased all radio interference and turned to its departure path; a secure cabal- operated landing zone waited in the desert. The turbofan-powered zeppelin slipped away, its anechoic coating hiding it from the radar below and above, where the alerted interceptors snooped. Roger, Karen, and Hedda were almost rolling on the floor in laughter from the conversations between the malathion sprayers and the air traffic controllers. It was going to be a very late night for these lackeys of agribiz. --