Norris

Norris has never considered himself to be a particularly lucky person. He was the runt of the litter when he was born and hasn't develop all that much since. He's now thirty years old, stands five feet six inches in his socks and weighs just about enough to prevent him from blowing away in a moderate breeze. His hair is already receding and he needs to wear glasses for everything but sleeping and swimming. Particularly so with swimming - since he's never swum in his life and never intends to. He says if God had intended man to swim, He'd have put the sea on top of the land instead of safely beside it. As you can tell, Norris is a very deep thinker.

But Norris not only feels himself unlucky, he also feels deeply unhappy and as lonely as a pork pie at a Jewish wedding. His sex-life exclusively consists of do-it-yourself hand jobs, supported by porn on his laptop. It's not just that women don't see him as being sexy, they simply don't seem to see him at all. In his time and when people have bothered to call Norris anything at all, he's either been called a geek or a nerd; (and to think his mother had told him he'd never amount to anything. Just goes to show how much she knew!) He now actually wears both these rather derogatory epithets as badges of honour. He condiders that he valiantly earned them by battling though a rigorous college I. T. course and in consequence now enjoys well deserved renown as being something of an Information Technology guru. This can, at times, make him feel like a giant of a man on the inside. Unfortunately, every glance at his full length mirror opens his eyes to the truth that "there's nothing to see here. Move along please."

Because of Norris's constant exposure to the interweb, he's totally aware of everything that goes on on it, plus the opportunities it affords for nine stone apologies like himself to indulge in fantasies in which he's either a mighty muscle-bound hero - or a similarly well endowed villain. To this end, he seeks out roleplaying Apps such as Reddit and Discord where females actually want to play at being and killed through direct messaging. They place their requests online and then scores of guys message them back offering to ravish and snuff them by administering lethal doses of text to them. Norris has been one of those guys. Using the username, Carnalravisher Thunderlust, his avatar looks well able to stride the world like a handsome all conquering colossus. On the strength of this, Norris gets his fair share of invites to play, but overall, finds the experience unsatisfactory. This is because his roleplaying partners tend to have very fixed ideas about how they want to be and killed, reducing him to the role of a mere functionary. In this, his roleplay character ends up simply doing as he's told; (e.g. 'No, you have to garotte me from behind with a silk ribbon - and its got to be a bright red one, otherwise I'm not playing!) It's hard to feel all conqueringly powerful when your victim is calling the shots.

It therefore piques Norris's interest no end when, on idling through the latest role-play requests today, he reads . . . "Hi. I'd like to do a roleplay where I'm to commit suicide but haven't got enough nerve to actually kill myself. I therefore need someone to come round to my place and snuff me good and proper. You can stuff me too if you like. My unresisting body will be totally yours to do anything you want with. Nothing’s off limits (except any underage stuff of course. I have read the rules). Please direct message me if interested." The lady posting the request calls herself Miss Yielding-Readily.

Norris is intrigued and wastes no time in starting an online conversation which runs thus . . .

Hi Miss Yielding-Readily. (May I call you Yielding for short?) I'd love to rp with you if you really mean it about leaving what I do to you entirely up to me. I think I can guarantee you a satisfyingly erotic .

Hi Carnalravisher Thunderlust (cute name by the way and yes, do call me Yielding. Yielding by name, Yielding by nature as they say). Great to hear from you. What do you have in mind for me?

Well, let's set the scene for a start. It'll help with plot development. For instance, where abouts do you live?

Islington.

What? London?

Yeah!

Oh wow! In real life?

Whoops! Yes. I really wasn't supposed to reveal that, was I. I did read the rules, honest. I just forgot.

Fuck the rules! Look Yielding, I'm at Finsbury Park, just down the road from you. I mean, on the World Wide Web, what were the chances we'd end up playing with such a close neighbour?

Yeah, that's spooky alright; like it's meant to be. You been killing women online for long?

A couple of years now. It’s just this kink I've got.

Well, I for one am really pleased you've got it because I've been obsessing about dying for months now.

Look, this is only a suggestion and you can shoot me down in flames if you like, but what say you to us meeting up in person so that we might more intimately discuss the means of your sexy demise?

What? Do you mean . . . like . . . on a date . . . sort of thing?

Well, I was thinking more along the lines of coffee and a chat sort of thing . . . in the first instance of course.

Oh yeah, of course! Definitely. Er, does it have to be coffee?

And so the conversation continues between a guy who hopes he's at last finding his perfect roleplaying partner and a milf who hopes she might be able to pursuade this guy to kill her for real. Ultimately, they'll decide to meet up in the Red Lion pub this very evening.

There is, of course, one ginormous flaw in this arrangement that not even Norris, for all his deep thinking, has though deeply enough about to spot, yet. Will he spot it in time to avert disaster and save us all from having to ditch this entire story after only two chapters? Don't know! Exciting, isn't it?