The Yabyum Palace
(Excerpt from The Big God Network)

Takeshi was horny. Intensely horny. Hornier than Krishna, Casanova, Catherine the Great, Madonna, Rasputin, Sonia Braga, Henry Miller, Bill Clinton, Christy Canyon, Priapus, and Vatsyayana put together. Such was his arousal this evening that Takeshi had decided to indulge in a few hours of mind-body fulfillment at the Yabyum Palace, a legendary site among cybersex connoisseurs.

               He embarked on his journey in the Kyoto Commons in Otaku Net. Once there, he walked over to a kiosk in the middle of the square, and searched through the different links. He entered his credit code, touched Yabyum, and immediately found himself standing alone on a riverbank.

               At his feet, red clay slanted steeply down towards slowly moving water, obscured by fog. Tangled trees and serpentine roots formed a dense wall behind him, hiding the sources of muffled roars and howls and clicking noises. The woods smelled of old leaves and sweet flowers, and the muddy bank emitted a pungent, earthy odor. Takeshi was glad he’d upgraded to the Revlon olfactory unit.

               He surveyed his surroundings. Obviously, he was supposed to move forward, but how? Sometimes there were puzzles to solve and it wasn’t always readily apparent where to begin.

               As Takeshi pondered his options, a boatman appeared out of the mist that rose off the water. He was thin, with a long scraggly beard and ragged clothes. On his face, lines of white earth ran from his hair-line to his nose, identifying him as a devotee of Vishnu. The Vaishnava man pushed his primitive log raft across the water with a long straight branch.

               The boatman paused a short distance away, and motioned Takeshi silently towards the water. He leapt forward and landed unsteadily on the raft, which tipped slightly with his weight. The Vaishnava nodded sagely and then reached out with the branch and pushed off the bank, sending them drifting through the fog on smooth river currents. Aromatic patchouli emanated from sticks of burning incense on the raft. It felt like only moments had passed and then they were approaching a small dock, where three women were waiting. Each wore an orange sari, feathered anklets and a silver nose ring. They had exquisite mandalas painted in henna on their hands and the Third Eye of awakened consciousness brightly decorating their foreheads.

               I think this is going to be well worth the yen, thought Takeshi. The women clustered around him, giggling, and led him down a red clay path between reflecting pools towards a miniature Taj Mahal. Two immense wooden doors carved with elaborate jungle scenes swung open and Takeshi entered a long narrow hallway whose green-and-white marble floor was flanked by animated statuary on either side. The women pulled him along, past a curvaceous Parvati standing gracefully. They strolled by a four-armed Shiva dancing in a circle of fire, the baby Krishna suckling one of Yashoda’s voluptuous breasts, and a seated Buddha attended by sixteen adherents. Bot-hisattvas, mused Takeshi.

               The women were laughing and caressing him as they walked. They lavished kisses upon his cheeks and nose and neck. He basked in their attentions and ran his fingers lightly over their thighs and hips. Takeshi was getting aroused as the journey continued and the living sandstone statues had become explicitly erotic. The couples enacted dozens of love postures, several of which seemed acrobatically impossible even for rubber-limbed yoga masters.

               Takeshi gazed at their nudity and thought about his own appearance. Clothes were always a factor in VR, and had to be dealt with in some way. One could manifest in any outfit imaginable, as any person or thing you wanted, or nude with either a fictional body or an accurate representation. “Adaptations” made users fitter, firmer, better endowed, or more beautiful. Takeshi had no problems with his body; he always went as himself. He was shy outside with women in social situations, but less inhibited on the Net. When it was time to reveal one’s manifest in the altogether, Takeshi was ready. And now was such a time. His fingers touched the palm of his left hand, which held sensors for certain functions, and his clothes disappeared.

               He stood nude before the three women, who fondled him with abandon. A screeching peacock ran by and jumped atop a tall slab of sandstone. On it was inscribed:

Welcome to the delight of body, mind and soul

Delight in exquisite sensation as you awaken the body

In the field of the senses your divine essence will flower

               As he finished reading the words, his three escorts jumped in front of him and their saris landed in soft piles at their feet.

               “Kiss us,” laughed the first. “Kiss us well and you may pass.”

               “Kiss us in those places meant to be kissed,” said the second. “The forehead, the eyes, the earlobes, the cheeks, the throat, the nape, the bosom, the lips, and inside the mouth.”

               “Don’t forget the thighs, behind the knees and along the inner arm, not to mention the navel, buttocks, and toes,” said the third.

               “And the yoni,” smiled the first.

               “With pleasure,” said Takeshi. He anointed each of his ladies with as many kisses as he could muster, until they were beside themselves with pleasure, writhing and groping him, entwining about him, rubbing against his legs and his wandering hands.

               The three women were moaning fiercely in unison and Takeshi was wondering whom he should mount first when they disappeared.

               He found himself alone in an alcove filled with fountains and burning candles. He felt a twinge of loss at the absence of his gorgeous companions, then bittersweet melancholy as he thought of his inability to find a flesh-and-blood woman outside whom he could love and who would love him in return. Would he never find his mate?

               The insistent stirring of his libido obliterated his despair and his attention shifted to faint but unmistakable groans and sighs. Someone was making love around the corner, out of sight...

excerpt from The Big God Network
© J.C. McGowan 2007