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The Spider (standard:Fan Fiction, 3578 words) | |||
Author: Shamoil Ahmad | Added: Apr 09 2010 | Views/Reads: 3025/2135 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
The story is based on saber chatting.It reflects sex-culture of saber world where people of the third world are melting in like salt in water. | |||
Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story When he made maiden entry into the Lovers' Lane of Sify, he found there were more than hundred chatterers with pseudo ID. He had made initial foray with ‘hi', ‘hello', but no one took notice. He was not aware of the nuances of chatting. When his friend had loaded Yahoo Messenger, his eyes had widened. He then knew that chatting meant enjoying cyber sex and not just Yahoo, it was served by any site and chatting rooms were meant for that alone. Yahoo was full up to the brim with this. It had rather taken care of all categories of sex-starved groups. For the same sex women there was Lesbian Lounge and for men there was Gay Room. For the married there was a special room named Married and Flirt and Single Again Disco, Inferno Love, rooms named as Sixties Love, Fifties Love and Forties Love where chatting went on openly. The friend advised him to change his ID. “Your ID looks like the beard of a Mulla (Muslim priest)...Miya Salauddin Ansari in the midst of Spiderman, Sex Hunter, Pain Killer, Lioness Jungle, Sexy Prince, Red Hot Lady, High Volt 2000...! The friend laughed heartily...! “That's the reason why you keep clicking in the chatting room and no one notices you...” Then he delivered a long lecture on cyber culture and explained the meaning and significance of ID, “you are not what you are...rather you are what you are not...this is the requirement of the consumer culture...in this culture you must be seen as what you are not.” When he still did not understand, the friend further explained that in this cyber world truth and falsehood are interchangeable and are jumbled together. You cannot sift them. This world is as false as it is true. When you construct an ID you construct a falsehood and each falsehood of the cyber world is a truth.” For a few days he remained confused as to what kind of ID should be constructed for himself. One day while he was dozing off, suddenly a name came to his mind: Tiger Wood...He was surprised and happy too that in his subconscious there was this identity lurking within. He thought Tiger Wood had risen from his left side...he is really the tiger...out to hunt in the jungle of chatting world.... “hi!” “hi!” “asl plz...!” “m 32 India.” “m2.” “bye.” “bye.” What was the use of a male chatting with another male? Chatting should be between male and female. He had no success initially. The matter did not go beyond ASL. But god provides sugar to those who look for sugar ..... That was Lesbian Lounge where some grains of sugar fell on his palm. “hi!” “hi!” “r u male?” “Yes!” “What are you doing in a lesbian room?” “Looking for a partner.” “Go to men's room.” “I'm not gay.” “OK.” “Are you female?” “Yeah.” “Lesb...?” “No.” “Why here...?” “Same as you.” “We can become friend...?” “Sure.” “Your good name please...?” “Madhuri Saxena.” “Location?” “California...but I hail from India.” “Wow...! Me too...!” “Are you married, Madhuri?” “Divorcee.” “Can I add you, Madhuri?” “Yup...!” He clicked on the plus sign of the window chatting. This was the first female ID that came to his messenger list. But the chatting could not continue for long. She informed that her son had arrived and that she could not do much chatting in the presence of her son. But she assured she will be back at this hour tomorrow. Nazma too had returned from the school. He also thought it prudent to sign out. He was happy. At least he got one friend...now there will be chatting...but there is gap in age....has a young son...must be forty...he is himself thirty....if she asked he will say forty...and name...? name Brajesh Malik....! He smiled....every lie in the cyber world is a truth...! She came next day too. Nazma had gone in the neighbourhood. He was alone in the house. After exchanging pleasantries she asked where he lived in India. He lied that he lived in Delhi...then he smiled as he thought living in Delhi was a status symbol. He asked what was the time there. “What is time there...?” “10 pm.” “11 am here.” He was at a loss on how to make a beginning on sex....what if she took offence...? Madhuri herself resolved this problem. She asked. “r u alone...?” “Yes...and u...?” “i'm always alone.” “i'm with u.” “thnx.” “u r lvly.” “u 2...” “can I kiss u?” “sure!” “thnx...” and he pulled Madhuri into his arms. “taking u in my arms...” “oh, yes...!” “pressing u hard against my chest.” “wonderful!” “u r hanging in my arms.” “Oh...hhh...hhhh...!” “ur feet raised above ground...!” “yes, darling, carry on.” “took you to bed.” “nice!” “lying side by side.” “wow...!” “kissing your neck...” “Oh...!” “ur earlobes...” “ah...i like it.” “keeping my lips upon ur lips....” “Ummmmm!” “pushing my tongue in...!” “Ohhhhhh...!” He was feeling the excitement. The cyber magic was casting its spell. The way she was responding, he actually thought he had planted his lips on her lips. “unzipping ur bra...!” And the gap began to narrow down. He was typing with his vacillating fingers. The eyes were on the screen but words were acquiring the shape of body...the blood was racing in the veins. After the chatting had concluded he remained lying on her body like a mound. “relaxing...!” “u are hot.” “u 2...!” It surprised him no ends. .it was as good as real sex...had some other talks as well. For instance, she informed him that she was a resident of UP, and is doing midwifery in California. As for himself, he told he was a businessman and that he was not married yet. Madhuri said she was thirty-eight...and he said he was forty... He did not get to know about the arrival of Nazma. No sooner she stepped into the room than he signed out. But when she asked about he was chatting with, he just parried the question. Nazma wanted to know as to how to talk to her bhaijaan (elder brother). “fix the date and time first and send him an offline message asking him to be present online at the designated time” he said and acquainted her with the method of sending offline message on Yahoo. He was happy. While in office, he often recalled the conversations. How was she responding? It does not happen that way even on the bed. He began to receive e-mails from Madhuri. But there were fewer romantic allusions. She usually recounted her own tails of family problems. Her daughter was a salesgirl in a departmental store. She had a boyfriend who always demanded money. If he did not get money, he became indifferent. She had to pay to obviate tension. That way half of her wages was consumed by her boyfriend. Her son too sailed in the same boat. He too had a girlfriend. Sometimes he would not return home for days and Madhuri would get distraught. Madhuri wrote her son was her weakness. She could not bear to stay away from him. She pleaded with her son that he stay with his girlfriend in this house itself. He replied to Madhuri's mail with care. He counseled restraint and said everything will be alright at the appropriate time. He was getting to prey now. Love 40's was his favourite room. In no time several IDs got connected to his own...Lady Diana 2000, Asian Queen, Purple Cloud, Pramila Garg, Shakila Arif, Monalisa 2000. He had sex chatting with them, but the kind of empathy he had established with Madhuri...that was not to be found anywhere else. Madhuri was his .first cyber love...! He had understood everything about chatting. He was able to ascertain age from ID. IDs that seemingly carried genuine names like ‘Pramila Garg' and ‘Shakila Arif' belonged to mature women. Teenagers had strange IDs such as ‘Khushboo Gumnam', ‘Tanha Dil' etc. Asian connection facilitated his interaction with Khushboo Gumnam. She hailed from Bangalore but lived in Dubai. Her husband was a software engineer. She would be alone the whole day, sitting over net at home and at times she was seen in the chatting room even during midnights. But she did not seem interested in sex related matters. She needed a friend with whom she could share her emotional outpourings. She confided that her husband was suspicious by nature. He would lock her in when he went to office and she had to suffer this ignominy. He then asked her if her husband objected to her chatting late in the night.... She informed him that what she did on the net did not at all bother him. He was more concerned about his sleep. After cohabiting he slept like an ass. Then she said a very personal thing that like horse her husband.... He got rid of Khushboo Gumnam. It was not possible to do cyber with her. But he liked Pramila Garg. She was horny and she liked riding. She had given her age as thirty. But he knew she must have been over forty. She had two children. Her husband was a banker. She opened up in the very first meeting. When he pulled Pramila into his bosom, she had fallen over him and had said, “I'll ride you, honey...” “oh... sure...!” “I'm always on top.” “welcome.” Pramila was a game. He regarded himself as raw. On the screen, the words began to swirl like snake. Oceanic waves began to rage in his veins. Birds began to chirp vociferously. She swung...sideways....circular...he was out of his senses. He had not had this kind of experience even with Madhuri. For many days the intoxicating impact of that riding remained on him, but Pramila was never seen again. He extensively searched for her...for months he kept looking for her in chatting rooms. He sent her offline message on a number of occasions, but there was no trace of her. Many others came his way...he did riding also with most of them, but the kind of joy she delivered, no one else did. He had encountered Shakila Arif in her Islamic facet. In the Religious and Belief section of Yahoo there was a religion room. Buddhist, Hindu, Jewish, Christian and Islamic rooms...he did sex chatting everywhere. He found Shakila in the corner of the Islamic room. She was looking for life partner. She was thirty-six and liked to converse in Urdu. “salaam.” “walekum salaam.” “u r muslim?” “yes.” “shiya or sunni?” “sunni.” “age?” “36.” “married?” “o...and u...? “no.” “why ?” “didn't get any.” “i also didn't get any girl.” “should I add you?” “by all means.” Both of them added one another in their list. “should I say one thing?” “Yes.” “may i kiss you?” “r u stupid or what?” “u are stupid that missing an opportunity.” “i didn't come here for this.” “what else ?” “i m lking 4 a life partner.” “u will be d c ved.” “this is cyber world.” He stopped chatting and deleted Shakila's ID from his messenger list. Earlier, it was his practice to first come to home from office; but after taking tea, he would to go to café. On occasions when Nazma would be outdoors for some reason, he would chat from home itself. Sometimes he used to start chatting in the dead of the night as well, but on such occasions he would remain very alert...at times when Nazma woke up, she fixed her eyes on the screen and he had to sign out on such occasions. One day when he returned from office, he found Nazma very happy. She told him that she had chatted with her bhaijaan. He was coming to India the next month. That day he also received a mail from Madhuri. Her son came with his girl friend, stayed for two days and then went away. They fought the whole day, remained locked inside the room. Seeing all this, she did not want that they should get married. In reply he said that this is a sado-masochistic relationship between them. Without this they could not even indulge in sex. And if she did not want he should marry her, the reason is- she is jealous of her son's girl friend. A certain Saroj India once stumbled upon him in the Lesbian Lounge. Gave her age as twenty-five and informed that she was bi-sexual. Chatting with her was exciting. There was a novelty about it. She liked doggy...elbow and knee on the bed...face downward...when he was relaxing after chatting Saroj India revealed that he was male. He got wild, but by then he had signed out. He was surprised—how could he get fooled? But chatting was quite real. Who knows even Pramila Garg could be a male? And Madhuri...? Is Madhuri also a male? But he sensed truthfulness in what Madhuri said. He liked the way she acquainted him with the family matters and shared her problems with him. When in jolly mood she would chirp and sing old film songs. He too would sing and have sex with her; and he felt he was not in café but in her home. He thought of using web-cam. Cam to cam....it was not possible to deceive in front of camera. But in café he would not be able to undress before the camera and at home there was Nazma. But gradually he began to feel bored with chatting. The same old words even with new IDs. Oh...the sameness....ooohhhh....aaahhh...your legs...! He found these words floating on the screen like dead birds. He thought of giving up chatting. His visits to café became less frequent, but old habits like old slaves kept demanding their share of booty. After a few days recess, he would feel the same impulse and then spend hours in café. Once seated in the Flirting Room, he was passing through insipidity when suddenly an ID appeared on the screen....Beauty-in-Chain. It was an attractive ID. He could not help saying hello to it. “hello!” “hi!” “r u beauty...?” “Yes!” “i'm beast.” “ha...ha...ha...beauty and the beast.” “location please...” “city of Love.” “wow...i'm 4m the city of dick.” “is it a big city?” “yes, honey!” “fine.” “want to see it?” “cam...?” “no cam.” “how to see?” “hold it...feel it!” “i'm in chain tiger.” “ok, honey, i unchain u.” “ok!” “unzipping ur bra...” “yes...!” “ur round boobs...!” “c mole between them.” “yes....I c it.” “put ur lips on it.” “i do...!” “my nipples erect...suck them!” “Ohhhhhh...!” He was exceedingly surprised. No one had ever responded that fast. His fingers were moving on the key board in a machine-like manner and the words like itching dogs were raising their heads. The response was hot from the other side. But a pall of gloom had begun to overtake him. He thought of changing the topic of discussion. “r u single?” “i'm housewife.” “ur husband?” “must be chatting somewhere.” Beauty-in-Chain too appeared to be a game. Some time she would become doggy and some time claim to be sixty-nine. He realised it with some difficulty that cyber culture was a sex culture where those of the third world were getting dissolved into it like salt into water...everyone trying to find a private part of the body for self.... He returned home on his tired legs. Nazma was looking very happy. “Bhaijaan will log on now.” “How do you know that?” “I was on the net. I got his off line message.” “Are you a regular on the net?” “Sometimes.” Nazma smiled. He opened the net. He felt like opening a new ID in the name of Brajesh Malik. The moment he typed ‘B', Beauty-in-Chain emerged on the screen. He was taken aback-how come this ID in his computer memory? He looked at Nazma whose face suddenly became white. He felt like being in sewerage of a room and Nazma was wriggling like an insect. His fist tightened, his eyes disgorging fire and brimstone. He was fixedly staring at Nazma. “What happened to you?” Nazma asked in trepidation. He continued to stare at her like that. “Why are you looking at me like that?” His lips were sealed and his body was trembling. “Why are you silent?” Nazma's dread increased. A mysterious mist was beginning to pall on her. To him Nazma's image appeared on the computer screen and the ID of Beauty-in-Chain was crawling like a spider. “Why don't you speak?” Nazma shook him violently as though he just woke him from sleep. “Hi!” He smiled. To Nazma. His voice appeared to have come from a distance. ”Hi, Beauty-in-Chain.” And Nazma's face turned black. “Tiger Wood here!” He menacingly advanced towards her like a cheetah. Nazma retreated in fear. “Come on, darling...I'll unchain you...!” He wanted to catch hold of Nazma's hand which she managed to extricate from his clutch. “What has happened to you?” “Hold my dick...” Nazma was shaking in fear. “Feel it.” He shrieked. “Unzip your bra.” He held her by her scruff and pulled violently towards himself and in the process buttons of her blouse gave way...Nazma's breast got exposed and he burst into a peal of laughter. “Ha...ha...ha...your round boobs....!” “I see mole between them.” “Your nipples erect...!” “Come on...” “Come to your senses.” Nazma said entreatingly. “Come on, be doggy.” He gave a violent push to Nazma. She fell on the floor. Her saree rose up to her buttocks. “Your elbow and knee on bed...face downward...!” Nazma folded her hands. “Please, I'm Nazma.” “No...!” “Please...!” “No...no...no...!” “What has happened to you?” “You're Beauty-in-Chain.” “It's me...” “Come on.” He pulled hard at her legs. “Spread your legs...” “I'm Nazma, Nazma...!” “Nazma is dead...dead....dead...!” He shrieked violently. And Nazma began to sob bitterly....! Tweet
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