A Dog >
by e. munro
Natalie likes to stalk, a little—to peep, to follow, and digitally access her lovers. Her current online lover, Sue, is tagged bait, locatable, and portable. From Natalie’s pocket, desk, or handbag, she can pinpoint her.
She types fast, logs in to her Facebook page, checks Sue’s relationship status: still single. Natalie flexes her fingers and snoops through Sue’s photo album, freshly updated from last night’s post-footy, beer-swilling celebration. Most photos show Sue lavishing a scruffy blonde with kisses. Tortured curiosity drives Natalie to poke the blonde. Within seconds, a friend-request arrives.
Natalie’d bet her lingerie collection that Sue Facebook snoops in return. After all Sue pursues Natalie, sure and hawk-like, during their online-conferences. Despite the limitations of clicking push-to-talk buttons, video syncing, and the virtual presence of their work colleagues, Sue is not subtle. And, she gets what she wants. Afternoon cybersex sessions and Natalie’s witless surrender to self-inflicted knot burns, bruised knees and dreamy orgasms.
The morning deluge of emails fills her Inbox. Natalie scans emails while replaying videos of yesterday’s cybersex in the top left hand corner of her screen. Later, she agrees to an evening conferencing request while trawling through the tartlet’s photo album—loaded with fresh pictorial evidence of buttery buns.
At lunchtime an alert shows a new post on Sue’s wall. She’s on the prowl, and telecommuting, in her local café. Apparently, the new waitress is a total cutie, wears very low cut jeans, and sways her hips like a Tahitian babe. Natalie checks her lover’s location. Fifty road-rage minutes are all it’d take to turn up and cramp her style. But, for shut-in Natalie, an actual meeting is as easy as jockeying for center stage on The Voice. Instead, fifty digital-rage minutes are all it takes for Natalie to search and sign and pay for a platinum membership of the Online Hackers Club. She scrolls through the club’s list of hacking software.
Sue’s charm pings through the Wi-Fi. She is seeking a cybersex hookup with Natalie while simultaneously posting about her upcoming meat date with the Tahitian cutie. Natalie downloads The Hacker’s Swiss Army Knife, software designed to anonymously hack into and impersonate another user, and rips into the tutorials.
Several espressos later it is their usual cybersex time: two pm. Natalie pauses for a slow breath, she gathers her courage. Lips twitching into a grin, fingers light on the keyboard she initiates the hacking software, it bombs the workplace network—with an endless loop of sexually explicit and inflammatory posts. Such behaviour is a dismissible offence.
Natalie Defriends Sue.
published 2 October 2013