Raped Online

Marissa entered the site through the homenode. The homenode was small, a circle perhaps two meters in diameter. Her invisibility status worked, which was something she had hoped for but not counted on.

Marissa did a quick scan of the site beyond the node. A homenode would normally take you to a central place, with clear signposts to direct you around, somewhat like the homepages of the old text-based net.

Not so here. The visuals showed a crossroad, but the scan revealed that only one of the roads was accessible. It was a plain dirt road, leading down an abandoned-looking street lined with derelict buildings. Her scan showed active users, but her eyes couldn’t see any. They weren’t invisible though, her scan revealed the invisibility status wouldn’t work outside the homenode. Which she’d need to do to go further.

Months of work had led her here. Hacking Stratton’s accounts, following breadcrumbs, locating this place in the dark corners of the web which the morality laws had created. When even the mildest form of pornography was outlawed, and accessing any was a criminal act, what people sought had grown increasingly depraved. If you were going to break the law, why stop at a tame boobie pic. Stratton’s sites were rumoured to offer more than images. She was here to find out how much more.

Marissa’s Avatar was that of an eighteen-year-old girl named Elle. Yes,using any avatar online other than you own identity was illegal. But law enforcement officers can break some laws in the course of their duty. Still, it felt strange being in a body not her own. One profile for life, an avatar an accurate projection of the body you lived in; that was normal. Elle? A fiction. And fictions were not supposed to walk the net.

Marissa took a deep breath, changed her status from “invisible” to “online,” and stepped out from the home node.

Nothing happened. Her fake avatar held. No alarms went off, or none that she could sense. She walked down the street, trying for all the world to look like just a naïve young woman investigating a naughty part of the net and not a detective investigating illicit activity of a sexual nature.

The street remained deserted. The buildings she passed had no doors or other apparent entry points. Marissa ran her hand along the side of a building. The tactile feedback was remarkable; it felt as though she was really running her hand along rough old wood with dry, peeling paint. A small fleck of paint flicked off, and she caught it in her fingers. A combination of very good coding from whoever made this site, and of course, the high-quality RJT in which her real body was lying.

An RJT, or Responsive Jell Tank, might seem a surprising choice of VR tech to use for this mission, but it was required by the site for entry. The site also required the safety features to be turned off. Yes, jailbreaking an RJT to turn off the safeties was illegal, but it was also very dangerous. If, for example, Marissa was stabbed here on the net while her body was in an RJT with no safeties, the Responsive Jell in which she was encased would form the shape, hardness and sharpness of a blade and stab her. Marissa’s crew had not turned off the safeties, not entirely. They’d lowered them as much as they dared and had made up the gap between “lowered” and “off” with a fake status overlay. So far, it appeared the site had been tricked. If Marissa were stabbed, she’d live. If she were punched in the face… well, she’d try not to get punched in the face.

A door caught her eye and a quick scan showed users in the room beyond. A lead! Might Stratton be inside? Perhaps, but that would be too fortunate. But from her knowledge of the site, any person here might be complicit in his activities, so Marissa turned towards the door with a purposeful stride. She paused. No, she was walking with too much confidence to be innocent young Elle. Marissa was bold and determined in her search. Elle would be cautious. Marissa pulled up her profile, or rather, Elle’s profile to help her get back into character. No, her profile. She’d need to start thinking of herself as Elle, in this space. A deep breath and a moment later, Elle closed her profile and looked to the door. She tiptoed timidly to it, gently pushed it ajar and peered through.

Inside was a pub. A rather ratty-looking one at that. Dim lighting, shabby-looking tables marred with rings left by countless glasses put down without a coaster. There was a man behind the bar, wiping it with a filthy cloth. It was like a caricature of a pub as one might be portrayed in a netflick or game.

A quick count of the room; twenty-three occupants. All male, mixed ages but demographics skewed older. No sign of Stratton. No sign of any naughty projections or behaviour or anything which matched the rumours. Had she come to the wrong place? Should she go?

A man at a nearby table caught her eye.

“Hello dear,” he said. “Come in.”

She couldn’t turn around now without looking suspicious, so she pushed the door open a tad more and slipped inside, keeping her steps small and uncertain like Elle would.

The smell of cigarette smoke and old beer hit her nostrils. Or, at least, Marissa’s brain thought it did. This was some good coding, but why waste it on a dingy little place like this? Well, she’d find out.

“Sit down,” the man said when she reached his table. A quick glance at his profile showed his name as Craig Jack, age 42, the location of “WA” with no country listed suggested he was from the states, and his accent certainly didn’t sound like he was from Warrington England or Western Australia.

“I think I’m a little lost.” This was a far cry from the naughty-but-fun place Marissa was pretending Elle had been reeled in by.

“Then why not take some time for a chat? Or you got someplace to be?”

“No,” Marissa sat Elle down next to Craig. “Nowhere to be. Got some free time.”

“How nice.” There was a flicker as he scanned her stats. “Nice RJT. One sweet piece of tech you got there.”

It was a nice one. It needed to be for what they needed it to do, but not many eighteen-year-olds had access to tech like that.

“Oh, it’s my dad’s. Wish it was mine.” Elle shrugged.

“Nice of him to let you borrow it.”

“Oh… well… I didn’t really ask…” Elle squirmed a little uncomfortably. “He’s away, see.”

“Ah,” Craig chuckled. “Well, if he’s not using it right now…”

“Exactly! It’s just a waste sitting there, unused. He and mum are overseas, it’s school holidays, but I’m not allowed to go out, or have a party or anything. They say I should just study and get ahead of the class, I’m at uni next year. I haven’t even got this year’s booklists yet.” This all came out in a rush, the way a lonely eighteen-year-old might overshare.

“Ah, typical Asian parents then? Study study study, no time off for good behaviour?”

“Something like that,” Elle agreed.

“How long they overseas for?”

“Three weeks altogether, they’ve been gone two. Only check in on me via message to make sure I’m being good, they can’t be bothered even calling. I haven’t even gone out drinking since I turned eighteen! What do they think I’m up to? Got so sick of it that I set an app to auto-reply how good I’m being. Nothing to do but sit at home and surf the net. Good thing I know how to put an IPM on that.” Elle sighed. Typical dramatic teenager, but what Marissa was really saying was I’m home alone. I don’t have much life experience. No one’s going to call or check what I’m up to. There’s an IPM active which means nothing here is being recorded. You could get away with a lot.

“Ah, oh, yeah. Drinking age over there’s eighteen, isn’t it? It’s twenty-one here.”

“Didn’t they change that?”

“Nah, big hoo-ha about changing it, but in the end kept it as is.”

“Come on, get with modern times!” Elle joked.

“Right?” Craig said with a chuckle. “So how’d you end up here?”

“Well… not sure where is…” Elle shifted uncomfortably again.

“Oh, just a place where some like-minded fellas get together, you know, socially.”

“Oh, no girls allowed then?”

“Nah, girls allowed. Especially pretty ones.” Ugh. Disgusting. The Elle character was young enough to be his daughter, but Marissa was playing her as innocent and naïve. So Elle giggled.

“So, how’d you end up here?” Craig asked.

“Well, I was looking at some… um… flicks. You know…”

“Ah,” Craig leaned forward and gave her a little wink. “Naughty ones?”

“Yeah,” Elle blushed. “And, um, well… one click led to another, and I, uh… well, I found some more naughty ones. And this guy there I was talking to suggested this place he thought I’d like. But the web address he gave me must have been wrong.”

“Maybe you would like it here?” Craig prompted. After all, I could show you a good time.” His hand settled on her thigh under the table.

“Oh– um–” Elle flinched back. “I– I wasn’t looking for that. Wasn’t looking to do anything.” She stood up. “I should probably be going anyway.”

“But you’ve got nowhere to be right now,” Craig said with a sly smile. “Stay.”

Marissa tried to focus on making her avatar look afraid, and the reaction wasn’t entirely performed. But the butterflies in her belly weren’t just from fear. Somewhere inside her, something dark stirred, something she’d never admitted aloud and barely admitted to herself. The reason she’d volunteered for this assignment when others hesitated. The reason the idea of this place had stuck in her mind long after the briefings had ended.

Elle stood. Elle didn’t have those desires. She was a good girl. She didn’t want what Marissa secretly desired. Hopefully, that would make Craig want her all the more.

“I really should go,” Elle said, quieter now.

Craig’s smile didn’t change.

“I… um… I’m not that sort of girl! I was just looking—”

“I’ll give you a better angle to see from!” Craig grabbed her by the wrist and spun her around. Before Elle had quite taken stock of the situation she was lying on the table on her belly, with Craig’s hand pressing her down between her shoulderblades, while the other hand was already yanking her skirt up.

“Hey! Let me go!” Elle twisted and kicked. Marissa tried to make the struggle enough to look desperate but not enough to actually break free. Around the pub chairs scraped back. Men rose and began to close in.