AIN SOPH Part 3

LillyKatt.com was the most reliable paycheck Lilly received in her life, so she did not see any sin in her actions. The photos were never taken with the intent of posting them on the Internet, she was just a girl using what she had at her disposal to earn a living. Pure American Dream stuff.

It just so happened the only thing Lilly had at her disposal was 100 gigabytes of pornographic pictures she took when she was 17 with her boyfriend, Chet. The pictures were taken a long time ago, and for better or worse, they were now paying Lilly's rent, having groceries delivered to her door, and providing the money she needed if she ever wanted to get back their son, Kyle. At times, taking those pictures was the only thing that could get Kyle's daddy off. Had Lilly known they'd end up on the Internet, she would never have let Chet take them. If she knew she'd be posting them herself, she probably would have gone with Chet to his grave.

Fairly heavily into drugs at the time, Lilly wasn't exactly sure how or when she'd met Chet. It was more like she came out of the fog and he was by her side. Chet used to tell people they met backstage at a Cradle of Filth show, but Lilly couldn't remember if she'd ever seen Cradle of Filth. Both remained reasonably clean through the better part of their relationship. 

Everyone had eccentricities. Chet had his photos, but only Lilly still fully knew about that. He also had long hair, liked loud music, and wore shirts covered with monsters and ripped up people. Lilly never had a problem with these things, but at his wake most of his relatives told her they were sorry he was killed in a motorcycle crash, "...but he was such a nice boy." After Chet died, it was a lot of drugs for Lilly again.

When she came out of the fog, Kyle was gone too. Not gone gone, but it seemed that way to her. She had been allowed to see Kyle once a week under supervision of Chet's parents, and the judge promised the amount could be increased if she proved she was off drugs for one month. Eventually Chet’s parents may be given permission to return Kyle to Lilly’s care. Unfortunately, this judge believed 95% clean was as good as not clean at all, and the process dragged on.

Lilly tried to get a job and get herself off public support, but there weren't many jobs around town, and Lilly had not been impressed with any one more than the next. She'd been a clerk, a food prepper, a bartender, and once, for about a week, she was a beautician, but none had worked out in the long run. She left each by giving two weeks notice when she found out she had three weeks to live. She found little sympathy with the courts, who would not grant custody to Lilly even now that she was on dialysis. She swore up and down that she was no longer a drug addict, but because she was a drug addict, nobody believed her. The judge told her in no uncertain terms, "That's what you said last time."

Lilly had not been off drugs long enough to prove she could maintain that sort of a lifestyle, even with a life-threatening condition, so she cried in the parking lot for over an hour until she was capable of driving home. When she got home, she dug out the laptop Chet bought her, and looked up the game recommended by a couple college kids from the pizzeria she'd recently retired from. There were more ways than drugs to burn away the minutes she was stuck with on Earth.

‘Tactical Adventure Online’ was a MMO, or ‘Massive Multiplayer Online’ game that connected people around the world through a fictional Universe of planets and star-systems brimming with Science Fiction adventure. The web page featured a hulking brute of a shirtless warrior with long hair and a battle axe larger than the plate-mail-bikini-clad elf that leaned on her toothpick-thin rapier in front of the warrior. Below were a star ship battling with a mech warrior. The guys at the pizzeria said a player could go anywhere and be anything. Lilly would be happy to be something.

Across the top of the Tactical Adventure Online login screen was a plain white banner ad with heavy black letters. "Why do it yourself?" Lilly didn't pay any attention.

She created a character named 'StarScream,' the name Chet always wanted for his death metal band. He'd written three ten-minute epics based on the works of Robert E. Howard, and designed a logo as well. The letters were nearly unreadable, modeled after his musical heros. Chet loved Amon Amarth, and when he wasn't listening to them, he liked Cephalic Carnage, Agoraphobic Nosebleed, Job For A Cowboy, or a dozen other bands with equally unreadable logos that Lilly was expected to to identify from a few guitar notes. Lilly pretended she was into these bands as well, but only because Chet liked it when she wore the shirts.

She would have done anything for Chet. When he first asked about the pictures, she assumed he wanted to put them on the Internet. He assured her, offering to use her camera that she could erase herself as soon as the were done. He didn't care if he ever saw the photos again, it just got Chet hot to take them.

At first, Lilly did erase the pictures, figuring Chet planned to lure her into a false sense of security and take the pictures when Lilly wasn’t paying attention. She erased the first few sets without looking, but after a couple weeks, Lilly couldn’t resist. She looked, and then she downloaded them on the laptop Chet thought they sold for drug money.

Lilly had bright blue hair back then, and could fit herself through a coat-hanger. Everyone told her she was beautiful, but Lilly knew her tits weren’t big enough, and it wasn’t until after the baby that she had anything close to big-girl hips. Lilly’s mother swore she didn’t have her proportions until after college, but Lilly assumed the drugs left her scrawny.

Looking through Chet’s eye, Lilly saw herself ravishing and sultry, crawling on all fours like a bitch-lion, hungry for something she’d never have enough of. The beer eventually counteracted the drugs and she got a little tummy, but Chet always picked angles to hide it away. Lilly would go back and look through them when she needed to feel good about herself. The pictures, and an hour a day on the treadmill Chet bought her a few weeks before he died. The tight regiment allowed her to maintain a physique smaller than what she’d once call fit.

Lilly never did tell Chet about the pictures, and he never asked. To the day he died, Lilly had an elaborate ritual of retrieving the camera from where it had been discarded, looking through a few of them with a wry smile, and pretending to erase them. Then she’d go to the bathroom to clean up, and switch out an identical memory card to download later. There were not many photos of actual sex, Chet lost interest by then. The one time she’d convinced one of their friends to tape them in the bathroom at a Danzig show. Lilly had been so drunk, and Chet had been so nervous that neither could properly perform. Lilly had almost erased that one, but as bad as she thought it was, the video received 700 hits a week, most often from repeat visitors. Looking back, her deception seemed so obvious, and she wondered if maybe Chet knew all along.

StarScream was a robot dragon capable of space travel that could rearrange her molecules and assume the shape of a hominid creature of approximately human size. StarScream’s primary weapon was Adamant Claws. Only after a few hours in the game did she upgrade to ranged weapons, purchasing a mouth-mounted cannon, as well as a mouth-mounted flame thrower that she found she rarely used, but still thought was cool. StarScream logged a lot of hours the first week, and even more the next. By the third week, if she had to leave the house, she was rushing home to avoid missing important missions.

“Why do it yourself?” The first time, Lilly ignored it. Same with the second, and the third time as well. The tenth time, she was starting to wonder, and was very curious by the twentieth time. Why should she do it herself? By the thirtieth time, she had to know. Lilly clicked on the link and came to a glowing white website with a drop-down menu, and words above it in heavy black font reading, “Type what you want.” Lilly typed “Chet.”

When the computer was processing, Lilly’s cursor turned into a Misfits skull spinning hypnotically. It spun for a very long time. Then, the web page refreshed. “Can not deliver at this time. Type what you want.”

Lilly typed, “Kyle.”

The skull spun. The page refreshed. “Can not deliver. Type what you want.”

Even though she was alone, Lilly had to laugh to pretend she wasn’t crying. Disability had been approved, and she had received a card in the mail. Getting around outside had become difficult without a car, so Lilly had been looking for an agency to deliver groceries when she discovered the pizzeria that accepted her card. Wiping a tear, Lilly typed, “Pizza.”

The skull spun. The page refreshed. “Estimated arrival time, twenty-seven minutes. Type what you want.”

Lilly typed, “soda”.

Spin. Refresh. “Estimated arrival time, twenty-eight minutes. Type what you want.”

Lilly would have thought nothing of it if she wasn’t forced to hide her pipe under the couch when a delivery man walked in to make sure everything was all right. He said he heard crying, but Lilly couldn’t remember. He had pizza for her, 18" with pineapple and ham, and a bottle of Alternatron black cherry soda. This was Chet’s exact order. Lilly only had twenty bucks to last all week, so she jerked off the driver and gave him a slice.

When Lilly wondered about it later, she thought it was a joke. She went back o the site and looked for other links, or some kind of ‘Contact Us’ button, but there was only the question box and the words, “Type what you want.”

Lilly typed, “A new chair.”

After refreshing, the page asked, “For what room? Type what you want.”

Lilly would definitely blow someone for a leather recliner. “Living room,” she said.

The website responded, “Estimated arrival time, eighteen hours, ten minutes.” The chair was a perfect fit for the living room. Payments were arranged for her. Then she asked how to build LillyKatt.com, how to make it a pay site, and how to have that pay delivered directly to her bank account so she could make money and spend it without ever leaving her home. She alternated her time between TAO and the treadmill. An hour on each.

One day, when Lilly was bored with the game and couldn’t find a chatroom in English, she paid a visit to the unnamed website. “Type what you want,” it requested.

“Why did I get a pineapple pizza when I first visited the site?”

Spinning Fiend. Refresh. “You asked. Type what you want.”

“Who answers these questions,” Lilly asked.

Crimson Ghost. Refresh. “Answers based on location, keywords, and statistical analysis. Type what you want.”

“Do you have a name?” Lilly asked aloud, as well as on the keyboard.

Ghost. Refresh. “King Dagon. Type what you want.”