The Addict | Chapter 5 of "Hourglass"

From my new science fiction novel - about seduction, biohacking & philosophy

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How long have I been gaming? I’m likely late for my big date with Astrid, and she’ll never want to see me again!

Was Xavier’s first thought. As he paused the game, the Demon erupted with scorn: Xavier, you fucking addict. You had a kinda-sorta chance with a beautiful girl, yet here you are wasting your life gaming!

But relief flooded his mind when he saw the time: before 6 PM. I still have 90 minutes to get ready for my date and book it over to Astrid’s place! It’s only a few minutes by auto-taxi.

Xavier was near the top of the cognitive enhancement roller coaster. Sitting in the nerve center of his little online gambling empire, which he had designed with sensory deprivation in mind, he was almost overwhelmed with sensation, sound, and sight. His hearing was as sharp as a bat’s. From his mid-rise condo, he could differentiate the individual sounds outside his window that were usually a smörgåsbord of generic city noise: a car’s squeaky brakes, a motorcycle revving, a metro train crossing a bridge, a car’s engine starting, a woman yelling, and a horn honking. The glowing screens of the nerve center sharply contrasted with the dusky spectrum of colors in the sky outside. They displayed various live reports of the digitally quantifiable aspects of Xavier’s life: his rankings in gaming tournaments, the performance of the investments he had made in funds, emails, and social media notifications, along with a slew of biofeedback data; his heart rate variability, blood sugar levels, and his proportion of alpha to gamma brain waves. In a few seconds, he could glance from screen to screen, take in, and analyze about 50 different metrics.

I should eat something soon! But… It would be a shame to waste this buzz! He resumed playing.

The two curvaceous figures in the bed didn’t seem to pay a lot of mind to Xavier’s visitation of the chamber. He approached their bed, and they didn’t react much, although one of them uttered in a low, sultry voice, “Geia” (“Hello” in Greek), as she brushed her hair off her shoulder.

I wonder what I can get away with here with the temple’s vestal virgins, while still accomplishing my mission? I can’t let them know I’m an intruder; they might call guards.

A devious idea crossed Xavier’s mind. He turned to see the priest hovering outside the doorway, craning his neck to look in, afraid to enter the room yet obviously curious about what was happening. He gestured to the two in the bed that he needed a minute, left the chamber, closed the double doors, and pinned the priest up against the wall with the tip of his short sword. “Tell those two that I’m a high priest of a different order, I’ve taken a vow of silence, and I have a gift for them. Then get the signaling staff, come back, knock three times on the door, and wait outside.” The priest nodded confusedly, entered the chamber, and exchanged a few abrupt statements with the two.

The priest then disappeared down the corridor toward where Xavier presumed the signaling staff was stored. Xavier grabbed the vase of flowers and entered the room. The sight of the flowers piqued the girls’ attention; they sat up in bed. Xavier placed the flowers on the fireplace’s mantle and removed two flowers, which he carried to the bed while holding firm eye contact.

I need a piece of “gaming hardware” for this part.

Xavier paused the game to grab his Sensation Sheath out of the dishwasher. Slipping it on himself, he shuddered in a tiny way as the siren song of Serotonin washed over him…

I know what you’re thinking, Dear Reader: “Are you gonna blow a load in your Sim before your big date?” Well, Sensation Sheaths interface with the nervous system and can modulate cardio-pulmonary (heart rate and breathing) rhythms to bring you and keep you right at the edge of ejaculation. For millennia past, men who wanted to experience multiple, full-body orgasms without the “small death” of an energy-draining ejaculation had to devote many meditative solo sessions to mastering a complicated series of sphincter locks and breathing techniques, cultivating themselves to become tantric lovers^¹. Now, we just have an algorithm for that. In a few virtual sessions, training the algo on your biology, it figures out how to take you right to the ecstatic brink of explosion but not over it. So I’ll be fine for my date tonight.