Virtual World Relationship

The female was hard to miss.  Who in a  world of models and movie stars would CHOOSE a nose like a pig's snout and legs like tree trunks?  She didn't know how to sit or stand, and her hair was basic jelly goo.  Her hands and feet were huge.  
    "Welcome Helga", said Alexander.  "Welcome to the Village of Vagabonds.  Would you like to make this place your home?"
    "I would have to think about it", the woman replied.  "Why do I need a home?"
    "Everyone needs a home.  A place to come to, a place to hang out when things get ruff."
    She looked around and saw couches with mismatched cushions and coiled springs emerging from the upholstery.  She saw trash barrels converted to stoves, houseplants, worn mattresses and a tired old tv console.  She said, "This place reminds me too much of my house."
    "But it's free.  You can live here in a cardboard box".
       "Do you think I could set up a tent?"
    "I'll ask", promised Alexander.
    "I just don't know".
    Alexander could tell that she honestly didn't know.  She had wandered in-world without a plan.    She needed lots of help.  But that was what he was there for, wasn't it?
     In terms of romance, Alexander kept a few irons in the fire.  He also needed to find a job.  He would have loved to work in-world but he had difficulties filling out the application.
    He had always found women willing to do little things for him, so one day he confided in Helga.  She was pretty good at spelling and was a good sport and yes, she wrote him up a nice resume and gave him a recommendation.
    "Helga, you're a good person and I like you", he declared, wishing all the while she weren't so shy.  Reclusive, as a matter of fact.  And an oddball.
    "Thank you", she responded primly.
    "Helga, what do you look like?  In real life, I mean".
    "Kinda ugly.   And fat".
   
    Sometimes he wondered about her.  She  didn't seem to catch on to  the  sexy village  innuendo.   If avatars could blush,  he  could  imagine her face turning a vivid fire  engine red.  
    She was a good listener, though.  He told her the sad story of his childhood, and of his marriages.  He taught her how to give in-world hugs.  Now and then they would hang out together.  Nothing serious.  She continued to need a lot of help, maybe a little too much help, but she had been willing to lend him a hand in return.  So maybe it was a fair trade.  In friendship, who keeps track of the fine points?
    And their friendship WAS deepening.  They talked on the phone.  She giggled when he said something funny.   He wondered if that was out of character for her.  They emailed song files back and forth.
    Finally, Alexander found a job in-world.  He was a voice technician.  He would have preferred to freelance but he truly needed the money and the work was enjoyable.
   A studio had been set up for broadcasting, video production, interviews.  Alexander was friends with one of the technicians and hoped he could get in on the ground floor of a new industry.
    The core group that wanted to proceed with video production met at the studio.  For some reason Helga showed up, though to Alexander's knowledge she hadn't been notified or invited.  Damn, he hoped she wouldn't act her usual mulish self.  He'd have to put the best face on the situation.  In the end it didn't matter.  The meeting was dominated by a gracious, sparkling, brilliant personality.  Enter Scarlet Monroe, and her throaty, sexy, cultured voice, her command of the business of broadcasting, her infectious laugh.
    Alexander was smitten.  Later, he would think of it more like a strike from a bolt of lightning.  He remembered saying to Helga, "Scarlet was flirting with me.  She wants to get into my pants.  I think she was saying, let's see what you're made of, Mr. Alexander".
    After that he was in-world 24/7, in hot pursuit.  Scarlet lived in the southern hemisphere, and on the other side of the planet, so he stayed up all night and caught a few hours of shuteye during the day.  The attraction was mutual but Scarlet still felt a misguided attachment to her unfaithful jerk of a partner.  Alexander stayed focused on her and used all the tools at his disposal.   He wanted her, and if the truth were known, he would have her eventually.  Neither of them was in a hurry.  They enjoyed the game, and they worked hard.  For Scarlet was promising  Alexander  tips on  how to land a job in-world.  She had the right connections.
    Then one day Helga sent him a portrait she had painted of him.  Damn.  He would have to thank her for it.  He said hi to her now and then, whenever they met, and he continued to be polite,  but he no longer  allowed her to follow him around.   Obviously she had spent a lot of time  on  that  painting so he had to acknowledge it.  He did  so  in as noncommittal fashion as possible.  Maybe she would take the hint.
    Not that he had time to dwell on the situation.  Scarlet was grooming him for bigger and better things.  She was  an exciting woman and she knew all the tricks.  He should have known better than to take his webcam into the shower with him with Helga watching.  She was overly sensitive and that was sad but maybe it could  work in his favor.  Lonely women, and she definitely fell in that category, can be hard to shake off but they are usually touchy, too.  Ignore them long enough and in the end they fade out of sight.  The girl had to learn to make new friends.  As far as he knew, she hung out with a group of Swedes on one of the islands.
    Scarlet was clever and talented and she kept him on his toes.   Alexander had finally met his match.  The sound of her voice excited him.  Her intelligence excited him.  "You're making me hard", he'd say, and that husky sexy chortle of hers would almost send him over the edge.  But then she'd get down to business, critiquing his work, his approach, his plans.  He almost told her about his career as an in-world gigolo but in the interest of professionalism he refrained.  The time would have to be right for confessions of that nature.  Perhaps in that passionate moment of which he dreamed.  Yes, Alexander wanted Scarlet and he was determined to have her.
    So now and then he would throw a few crumbs of attention to Helga, complimenting her on her dress or her jewelry.  Kindness never hurts.  As long as she wasn't following him around like a puppy dog he didn't mind patting her on the head now and then.  But his good will was a mistake.  Wouldn't you know, she confronted him one day and said, "I thought we were friends".
    Alexander hated to shut people off and burn bridges, so he said, "What makes you think we're not friends?"
    Helga didn't have an answer for that one.  Perhaps she was too inhibited to express what she felt, or suspected.  She hemmed and hawed and finally said something about a meltdown.
    "Well, I have teased you a lot", he said.  Meaning, of course, that  their banter should NOT have been taken seriously.  Lonely and pathetic women are apt to read too much into a flirtation.  But hey, didn't she have three or four boyfriends in-world?  Or at least a circle of friends?  She ran a series of shop.  Artwork and photos.  She actually sold stuff.  But not very much.  Obviously not enough to keep her busy and out of his hair.
    However Helga accepted his explanation.  She seemed happy.  He excused himself and went off to the village.  He had a date with Scarlet.  They were going to play a board game.  She had vowed to whip his ass.  Or maybe he would whip hers.  Either way, it would be exquisite fun.
    Scarlet was in a sexy mood.  She had already confided her misgivings about the unfaithful partner and she had decided to put him out of her mind.  Alexander sat on the edge of his chair.  The game pieces clicked, the dice rattled.  She had promised a lot, to teach him the ropes regarding her business, to introduce him to the right people.  He would relish working under her. She had made unspoken promises as well, simply by virtue of her presence here.  They communicated covertly, the tone of her voice speaking volumes.
    He took a calculated risk, that wasn't a risk at all.  "What color are your panties?" he asked.
    "Mmm.  Let me see.  I think they're eggshell.  The color is called Vanilla Ice Cream".
    "Sounds delicious.  Thong or bikini?"
    "I hate thongs.  Unless of course I'm not going to wear them for hours and hours".
    "Are they easy to slip out of?"
    "Abundantly".
    "Cotton or silk?"
    "Both".
     "Both, you say?"
    "Lace and silk and the crotch is one hundred percent Egyptian cotton".
    "Ah, the crotch.  Sweeeet.  Victoria's Secret?"
    "I beg your pardon?"
    "It's a lingerie store for women."
    "I see.  I bought these at Pandora's.  By the way, they were very expensive and special.  But I'm worth it".
    "You are, Scarlet. Worth every dollar".
    "I love Pandora's.  The writer in me adores the names they come up with for colors.  I have chocolate souffle panties, too, and lime sherbet".
    "Yummy.  Would you let me take a lick?"
    "Only if you pay the penalty, Mr. Alexander".
    "And what might that be?"
    "Twenty lashes if you lose the game".
    "Lashes from your whip, my dear, would be a pleasure.  But I have no intentions of losing".
    "Your choice, sir.  And your move".
    But Alexander didn't make his move.  In the distance he saw a familiar site, the shy and reclusive Helga hovering and lurking.
    He lowered his voice and muttered, "We'll have to move over and make room for another player.  Helga is just over yonder and she's coming this way".
    "Oh, no!  Let's excuse ourselves and find a different game room.  I would prefer not to play with Helga.  We tried checkers the other day and she was slow.  I never thought I'd meet with someone who couldn't catch on to checkers.  It's elementary, but she was clueless, and it was absolutely painful to watch.  I've never seen anyone that slow in my life".
    "She's actually quite intelligent".
    "No no no, I'm not saying she is lacking in intelligence or that she is impaired or retarded in any way.  Simply that she doesn't catch on to games that any school child should know.  So let's treat her nicely but let's leave."
    "Scarlet.  I'm afraid she has heard what you said".
    Silence lasted a full five seconds.  "Oh, no!" gasped Scarlet.
    "And she is upset", said Alexander.
    Helga had wandered off, but not very far.  Her back was turned.
    "I'm sorry she's upset", said Scarlet.  "But it was nothing.  It's just a game.  There is no need for her to take it seriously".
    Alexander knew that Helga was reeling, like someone who has been hit on the head with a plank.  And not only from the insult to her intelligence.  From the revelation of his budding relationship with Scarlet, and the true reason he hadn't voluntarily spoken to Helga in days.  The proverbial double whammy, and all in the space of ten seconds.
    The portrait had been an act of desperation, and a true gift from the heart.  But gosh darn it, she had given it freely and voluntarily.  He had nothing to do with it.
    "I think you should apologize", he said to Scarlet.
    "What about our game?"
    The sexual tension between them had just had a big bucket of cold water dumped on it.  Didn't Helga ever get tired and go to bed?  There was something creepy about the way she was always lurking.  Almost like she was stalking him.  But deep down he knew she was too shy to stalk anyone.  "Go over there and apologize", he reiterated.  "And take your time.  That's more important than any game".
    Scarlet approached Helga and made an apology of sorts.  Alexander would have been happier if Scarlet had taken  responsibility for her words.  The offer of contrition had more of a "I'm sorry you feel bad" thrust than true regret, placing the onus of hurt squarely back on the victim.
    But Helga and her injuries, though pathetic to see, were an annoyance, a buzzing insect, a nasty slug on a cleanly swept walkway.  Alexander strove to recapture the excitement of the evening, and the warm feeling in his crotch.  He had only to allude to the Vanilla Ice Cream, the lime sherbet, the chocolate souffle colors that  he and Scarlet knew were the colors of her thongs, bikinis and bras.  She laughed, he got hard, and Helga receded to the dark corners of his consciousness.
    Scarlet won the game.  As promised, he bent over to receive the sharp snap of her flagellation and it was oh so good.
    The hour grew late, the game room emptied, and still that sodden lump of humanity named Helga lingered.  What did she want?  Alexander knew what Scarlet wanted, and no mistake about it. She  was sending signals interspersed with lure of professional advancement, and there was no question as to which was the most attractive.
    But after all he had spent hours with Helga, and told her he was sweet on her, that falling in love with her was a possibility, and all sorts of nonsense.  He sighed  at  how stupid he had been, not seeing that she would be hard to shake off.
    "Excuse me", he said to Scarlet.  "I have to go take care of something.  I'll only be a minute".
    "I will hold you to that", replied Scarlet.  "Hurry, hurry, hurry.  Don't keep a lady waiting!"
    Helga's eyes swam with tears and hurt.  Her breathing was ragged.  "I'm not slow", she whispered.  "I just don't like games".
    "It broke my heart when she spoke to you like that", he said softly.  "What can I do to make you feel better?"
    "Nothing...nothing...".
    Alexander's explanation to Helga was brief and he hoped it rang true.   And it WAS true.  Sort of.  "I need a job and income", he explained.  "Scarlet works for companies that may need my services.  I don't approve of her tactics and the way she treats people, and if I am hired I will most certainly request, let's make that insist, that I will not be working under her. I will make it very clear that she is not under any circumstances going to be my boss or supervisor".
    Helga was an easy sell.  The relief and joy in her voice cleared his murky conscience, and he was able to return to the "business" at hand.
    He quirked an eyebrow at Scarlet.  "Now, where were we?"
    "Discussing ice cream, I believe".
    He chuckled.  "Oh, yes.  Did I tell you much I love lime sherbet in a sugar cone?"
    "Too sweet".
    "Believe me, honey, I can never get enough sweetness".
    But Scarlet was hardly what could be called sweet.  If Alexander had to think of her as a flavor, he would pick hot salsa.
    Attraction can't be shut off like the spigot on a water hose.  Although Alexander began to share with Helga again, most of his anecdotes were about his adventures in-world with Scarlet.  They had gone here and there together, they had done interviews and worked hard as a team.  He had photos and videos to document their efforts, which he showed to Helga.  It was like living their giddy times together once again.  Helga was supportive and interested, but there was a certain flatness to her response.  Still, evenings in the village, Helga lingered like chronic bronchitis.
    "Alexander", Scarlet would say in front of a crowd, "You may post a photo now and then but if it doesn't please you, just pull it!"  And a few minutes later she would remark, "A good artist puts his work out there but when he doesn't get a response he knows how to pull it."
    Yes, Scarlet gave him a strong urge to pull it.  Obviously she knew her power over him.  He had admitted it to her.  Too bad she was such a bitch.  Or maybe that was her lure.
   Helga sat on the couch, mulish as ever.  Alexander excused himself and went to bed.  The next night she was there again, so Alexander invited her into his life once more and showed her the webcam.  And thus their friendship continued almost as it had been before Scarlet came between them, and he determined to never let Helga know she was there by default.
    Every now and then he looked for Scarlet.  Her appearances grew infrequent, and then he did not see her anymore.  He hoped for Helga's sake that Scarlet would stay away, for he knew that sexy voice and throaty laugh and the way she said, "Pull it" would force him to send Helga spinning off into cyberspace, never to be seen again.