writing chapter 8.5

Fairy raced thru the crowds, kneeing and elbowing people out of her way, cutting in front of fans taking pictures of various posed fantasy figures and spoiling a number of otherwise usable shots. Many of the photobombs were posted anyway, adding to the legend as her avatar appeared several places at once.

Lots of people mistook Radhu for a posing figure as he waited patiently by the elevator. He allowed the photographs, explaining that he wasn’t Robin Hood, nor was he a Hunger Games character. Rather, he represented one of the archetypes portrayed in the mind-blowingly real Teh Gema, the new MMO by a team of Dragoncon fans.

“Oh yeah, I’ve been down there and saw the walkthru. It’s really real!”

“Oh, right, I remember last year. Did they fly this time?”

“Hey, did you make your costume?”

“I designed it.” After awhile, he began asking people who stopped to take his picture if they’d seen someone else wearing an avatar costume and resembling an Indian sex goddess.

But by that time Fairy had changed out of her avatar costume and was in the handicapped stall of a men’s bathroom, doing some guy dressed in nothing but a pair of crotchless panties and garters. And 8″ stilettos. And a nurse’s cap. She was doing some guy dressed as a member of Dragoncon’s security team, who had his shirt stuffed in his mouth, his pants around his ankles, and his wrists tied with his belt.

Various security paraphernalia were in the toilet, including his phone, and his membership badge was in small broken pieces on the floor. Fairy had discovered early that the tougher they were, the more they liked getting their ass kicked sexually. So she was destroying every shred of his identity. Having extracted her fee in cash, she was going thru his wallet and setting everything burnable into a little pile on the floor.

You might object here that this doesn’t sound like sex, and you’d be right. It was foreplay, and Fairy believed in the buildup. When he was good and pissed, making screaming sounds thru his t-shirt, she got right up into his face and started abusing him, one hand on his cock. She considered the clean up, thinking of the hotel staff who had to endure Dragoncon without the possibility of a tip. She would make him clean it up himself, if he were a submissive. But he was a congenial bully, and would never go along with it after he’d come. She abused him some more as he got harder and more swollen, his eyes glazing over, the muscles of his neck beginning to tighten.

She continued insulting him, staring into his eyes and pinching a nipple as hard as she dared. He cringed, his hips thrusting with the intensity of his feelings. “Oh, God, baby, you’re the best,” he tried to say as she pulled a safety pin off her garter and stroked it down the front of his neck, slapping his dick against his leg over and over.

“Do you want it?” she whispered.

“Hurt me,” he moaned, straining to thrust himself into her hand.

But she held her hand just out of reach. She pointed the pin at his nose, brought it close, and pressed the point lightly against the outer corner of his nostril. He gasped and held his breath, as she pressed it in deeper; all movement ceased.

Except for Fairy’s hand creeping ever closer to his dick He could feel the warmth. She breathed hotly into his ear. She almost touched it as she stroked the air around its thin four and a half inches. He quivered. Slowly, slowly, she raked the safety pin down his bare chest, leaving welts and oozing blood. The fingers of her other hand just barely tickled his balls.

His eyes watched greedily as she licked her lips. Sweat beaded on his upper lip (where a drop of blood showed the pin’s first wound). She faced him fully, adjusted her posture, squatting a little so her head rested on his chest and her hands were buried in his crotch.

Then she did three things at once. She bit his nipple, hard. She twisted a pinch of scrotum and jabbed the skin with the pin, hard, and she grabbed his cock and pulled, hard. One two three strokes – quick and insistent – and he whimpered. Four – stopped most of the way thru the stroke with a twist of the pin – and he shuddered. Five – a slow one – pause, lick his nipple once, breathe on it wetly, and then nip at it – and his knees buckled. Six – firm and imperative – and he groaned, then he screamed thru his gag, then his hips did a vigorous clonic movement, and due to Fairy’s aiming skills (and the strength of her forearms) he came neatly into the toilet in half a dozen squirts, which the crowd on the other side of the door appreciated – hand signals giving the guy a ten.

Fairy flushed, satisfied that she’d spared some poor cleaning person a nasty job indeed. She splashed clean water on the smoldering wallet on the floor, then undid the guy’s hands and helped him put his t-shirt back on. The stall was filthy.

“That was amazing, girl,” he whispered hoarsely. She smiled knowingly; she had that effect on people. He flexed his wrists. “When can I see you again?”

She finished dressing. “I guess that’ll have to wait until next year, don’t you?”

“Unless you’re free tomorrow?” he asked hopefully, bending to pick up his pants.

“You’ve got my number,” she replied, and turned to unlatch the door and slip out.

Just then someone knocked on the door, and a gruff tenor voice demanded to know what was going on in there. Fairy looked thru the crack and saw a cop. Someone dressed as a cop. Someone dressed in drag as a cop.

Fairy straightened up and winked at her client, then pushed the door open, forcing people to move back to let her out. She squeezed thru and felt the door latch shut behind her. Then she turned to the girl in the cop costume, who was flashing a valid-looking rent-a-cop ID at her.

She glanced at the name – Caroline Street – looked at the cop, with her Bronson wig and her plastic moustache, and nodded. “Nice costume,” and said something about her fiance with a bad case of diarrhea loud enough for everyone to hear. They moved away, disappointed. Fairy nodded to the cop. “Later,” and marched out of the bathroom.

Caroline turned and knocked on the stall door and threatened to call for backup if there was any trouble, and the security team member opened the stall and waved bits of his badge at her, then pulled rank on her when he realized she was mall security and didn’t have jurisdiction over Dragoncon affairs.

Fairy rode the escalator to the lobby and made her way to the gaming hall, checking her schedule. Time for some lunch on the way to the boys’ panel, then a client who liked playing grasshopper with a rope in the closet, and needed supervision. Then time for a quick shower, then the bondage scene she was unofficially hosting, starting whenever she got there.

While Anomia was blissed out among friends, Josh and Snake were surrounded by foes down in the game hall, the boys were surrounded on all sides by hostile forces.

“How come the game’s not ready?” “Why’s it play so shitty? Nice scenery and all, but where’s the guns? Where are all the enemies?” “Who wants arcade games? Where’s the easter egg level with the alien invasion and death rays?” “What’s this quantum shit?” “Where’s the beer and weed?”

Josh and Snake were at a loss. The demo was a walkthru with no action, just sauntering thru the caves and tunnels past one ride island after another. Fairy’s uplifting music in the background. None of the rides worked, the amusement park was empty and silent, the arcade room was eerie with blinking lights and random buzzes and bells; now and then a tinny voice crying out a slogan or game title.

There was food to eat in the hub’s foot court, tho the audience didn’t get any, and the scenery was breathtaking even tho most of those who felt the chill blamed the air conditioning. People grumbled. But none of the stuff they’d showed them on the cloud level earlier was available on the carnival level because they’d disabled it months ago. The fans were getting restless. “How we made Teh Gema” was about to start, and they had nothing. Kurt was off doing a lecture about the kernel over at the Electronic Frontier Foundation track, or they’d drag him up there to spout gibberish at them.

These were the fans they’d been crowing to all year about the spectacular features and fantastic progress, and then had a badly conceived, badly executed nongame with gorgeous backgrounds. Josh’s palms were sweaty. He poured some bourbon into his coffee and gulped it down. Shouldn’t have done that ice just before the panel.

Snake was better prepared. Always have a backup. “Pay no attention to those glitches.” he said, flipping thru the slideshow and stopping at an awe-inspiring view of the Transantarctic mountains. “When you have a setting this perfect, you should take your time to get the other details right,” he continued smoothly. “This game is so complex that you can play it for months before you see something twice. The way we’ve designed it, it’s created anew every time you play it, and your gameplay is enhanced by a whole new build of changes based on your player history.”

This was all pie in the sky, and they knew it. “And did I mention the gamegear? Even if the game was completely crap – which really it’s a great game – even if the game sucked brony dick and teabagged his balls – there’ll still be the game gear that’s light years past even the most theoretical interface possible. Forget the Magic Finger – it’s still beta – nano camera, optical mouse, LED on the index finger with velcro. Sounds great, but there are too many moving parts. And it’s external. Our system runs thru your body, using your own energy to power the device. And it communicates wirelessly – not bluetooth and eeg headsets. Fuck no, we use quantum tunneling. Everyone else is going with smaller and smaller devices and bluetooth and other ancient classical methods. As if Steampunk was supposed to be the computer interface of the future.” They laughed. He lowered his voice. “No, ours is the future of electronics. Our interface is quantum.”

Snake wanted to wait before bringing out the game gear. He wanted them at fever pitch before displaying a fucking rubber band and invisible nothing for a product. Never did a salesman have less to work with.

“Best of all, they’re free. You don’t have to buy them, you just get your hands on a 3D printer and you can download the sensors that go on your wrist and forehead.”

“Like a glove and glasses?”

“Like finger sensors and camera helmets””

Josh waved his wristband and pointed between his eyebrows. Snake sighed. ‘A silicone band and an invisible eye dot,” he explained.

The crowd loved it. “Where do we download them?”

Snake brightened. “Don’t forget you can play the game on any device at all with this equipment. Your Alienware 18 all the way down to your coffee maker. That’s because…” He leaned forward to tell them the secret, “It’s not the device, it’s the program that matters. More to the point, it’s all down to the kernel of our revolutionary new quantum program.”

Anomia had joined them up front by this point, and now Fairy came straying in, the last bite of a sandwich in her mouth. He looked disappointed. “If our tech guy wasn’t down talking to the hackers, he could explain it all. I don’t understand a word myself.”

So now they were all up front, trying to figure out what to say next. So they referred to the title of the presentation – how we made it, well sort of – and started bumbling thru the story, sounding like they were thinking twice about it.

Snake seemed to be taking all the credit, and that began to piss the girls off.

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About jeanne

artist, grandma, alien

Posted on November 6, 2013, in Dailies, dragoncon, fiction, Nanowrimo. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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