TDM 014: A DAY AT THE FAIR

[erkumods]

TDM 014: A DAY AT THE FAIR

00. Arrival You come out of the water, the Nameless Island's own inherent energy drawing people in. It's like being suspended between realities and abruptly pushed from behind through a rift in dimensions. It may make you sick, or that might be the motion of the ocean, lifting you to the surface and carrying you to shore. Waterlogged and covered in sand, new arrivals will be greeted by robots who welcome them with towels and bracelet devices. The A5 card is already loaded up. If you don’t manage to get away from them quickly enough, they may even usher you toward the Laid Bare Spa, where new arrivals will be offered free massages, a sauna, hairstyling, and their clothing may come up permanently missing. But you will be given a complimentary towel to leave with if needed! Feel free to explore the Island, though there isn’t much to see beyond what arrivals before you have helped to rebuild. Most of the buildings are abandoned and in dire need of repair, and beyond the city lingers a thick fog that obscures much of the wilderness from view. Wander too far into this fog, and you will find yourself mysteriously looping back to where you began, your memories of what you were doing and how you got there erased. With that in mind, it may be wise to stake your claim on a place to live in the now, whether a rundown apartment in the City, a tent on the beach, a bed in the barracks, or your own space at the House of Worship. Your inventory will be found a day later, wrapped up haphazardly and delivered to each person's makeshift home. ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● I. HAY FEVER A new mode of transportation has made an appearance! From one end of the fairgrounds to the other, and even sometimes off the beaten path and into the wilds, robot-horse-drawn hay wagons shake, rattle, and roll. And, of course, what are hay wagons great for? Anyone fancy a roll in the hay? Anyone who is taking a hay ride will see their A5 card flash - and they will be given the option to trade one square for the vehicles square. (New players engaging in this prompt can call it a freebie.) But beware! The wagons roll at all hours of the day and night. At night, the spooks come out to play! Rides will be "haunted" by frightful spooks played by machines and your local Islanders. The 'bots will hire anyone interested to don their favorite slasher costume or ghostly garb. After all, everyone knows that fear and adrenaline are related to attraction, right? Just another thoughtful service provided by your generous benefactors. ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● II. Acute Beef Poisoning How about an eating contest? Multiple competitions are held throughout the fair: hot dogs, hot dogs, pies -- just use your imagination! Of course, there's always the chance that you've been recruited to be "eaten"... So sit back and enjoy the ride. For those of you with an exhibitionist streak, all contests are held in front of an audience. Be careful, ye who eat here, because the pies in particular have been known to have the following effects (with a two-hour duration): Meat - A simple aphro pie; a character finds themselves craving a very different kind of meat. Apple - Temporary amnesia befalls those who've tried the apple pie. The effects can be as great as forgetting your entire identity or as minor as forgetting what you've had for breakfast. Cherry - Look upon the very face of innocence! All guile falls away from this character, making it impossible for them to lie. Strawberry - The compulsion to follow orders may be strong sometimes, but the strawberry pie comes with the compulsion to give orders instead. Blueberry - Oh no! You're looking a bit... off-color? The blueberry pie turns a character's skin blue for the next two hours. ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● III. BRODEO Last but not least, try the mechanical contraptions of various sizes - equipped with equipment of various sizes as well! The objective of this game is to last as long as you can. Thirteen Hand Sam is the smallest of the mechanical horses. It has no attachments, but instead vibrates until the rider orgasms. Mechanic Mike is the second mechanical horse. With a modest six-inch dildo, it bucks its rider around until orgasm. For those who like a real challenge, the mechanical bull -- the Bonine -- is a two-person contraption that straps each rider in with their own dildo. They sit face-to-face on the thrashing machine, within touching range, able to encourage each other to come (and to lose) more quickly. Ride like you've never ridden before, or comfort someone in the aftermath of a job well done. ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● N A V I G A T I O N

Comments

[pawper]

[She glances into his face, blue eyes darkening with obvious interest even as they narrow slightly, head tilting as she tries to see what kind of opening Noiz is offering. Sure, this was an island that ran on sex and she's had plenty of casual encounters by this point, but she hasn't been propositioned by perfect strangers in...well, a long time. And those experiences had been rather uniformly less-than-great.

But fuck it, right? To turn a phrase.]

I'm fine with that, if you're serious.

[They did have an audience. Not just the (still avidly watching) robots, but a random assortment of recent and not-so-recent arrivals milling around the spa, coming in and out.]

But only if you're serious.

[zunge]

[Releasing her wrist, he holds up his own and activates the bracelet to make his own card appear. His very blank card full of not a single indication that he's marked off any squares. The one on there right now took place after this la la la.]

Of course I'm serious. It'd benefit us both.

[pawper]

[A quick glance over his card—something that only takes two minutes instead of ten, thank god for reading lessons—and...wait, what? A low mumble slips out, barely audible and under her breath:]

What the heck is sounding? [H-Hm! Thoughts for later.] ...Sure. Okay.

[That measuring, speculative look still on her face, Lys shrugs off the towel draped around her shoulders. Before, her small breasts had been at least nominally covered, but now lay exposed to open air. Ignoring the approving murmurs from the robots, the hyperawareness of being stared at by strangers, she looks only at Noiz, nipples hardening in brazen and traitorous display.]

How do you want to do this?

[zunge]

[Sparing only a brief glance at her now exposed chest, mostly out of curiosity, Noiz chucks aside the towel that was draped around his neck. Both hands start working on undoing his tie and overshirt.]

You could give me a lapdance.

[Once he has those open and off, he pulls off the undershirt. Everything gets dumped into a damp pile. He glances around in search of someplace to sit.]

What about you, anything you want?

[pawper]

I'm fine with whatever.

[If they were in a cafe or somewhere else that made foodplay a remote possibility, she'd mention that as a "no". But they aren't, so she doesn't. At his searching glance, Lys scoots over to clear stacks of folded spa towels from the long bench across from her.]

Though, uh, I don't know if a lapdance would be "sexy" enough. [The implication here being that it's because Lys would be the one performing it. She's been made painfully aware of how she's not to everyone's taste: taller than him, with small breasts, muscled and sinewy.] If it doesn't check off the square, I can go down on you?

[zunge]

[His brow scrunched up in confusion.]

Lapdances are common at strip joints. It's bound to be enough.

[For now he leaves her question unanswered.]

[pawper]

I guess? I've never been to one of those. This place is just, you know, weird sometimes. Inconsistent.

[If she seems a little weirded out, it's partly due to the surreality of chatting while publicly naked and partly to that lack of a response. Eagerness, confusion, amused disgust, wholesale rejection; she's used to those, has seen them before. A non-reaction was new, nudging her off-kilter so that she colors again, face and throat burning with new heat.

The bench is swept clean of towels and other spa accoutrements. Somehow she manages to continue looking only at Noiz, waiting for him to dictate the next step.]

[zunge]

[He takes a spot on the bench, finally looking her over with any degree of scrutiny lasting longer than a couple seconds. Since he needs to leave room for her on his lap he can't bring a leg up for comfort like he prefers, so instead he slouches back and grips the edge of the bench.]

Inconsistent how so?

[He might as well get some information from her while she's on the topic.]

[pawper]

It's just...

[Lys trails off as she stands up, knotting the thin towel around her waist triple-tight. Clears her throat and finds her voice again, stepping closer, adjusting to acting normally while mentally preparing to grind crotches with a perfect stranger.]

It's just weird, sometimes, what counts for a square.

[And then she moves to straddle him, the muscles in her long, coltish legs flexing as she settles only so much of her weight on his lap and no more. The robots chirp approvingly, tinny chiptune noises mingling with low chatter from the human onlookers; Lys drops her voice in turn, murmuring so only Noiz can hear as she rocks her hips, pressing against him.]

I've checked off some squares without having sex. I was just turned on.

[Like she's turned on now, almost against her own will, keenly aware of the eyes watching them.]

But other times, that wasn't enough.

[zunge]

Weird.

[He means the finickiness. Noiz lifts a hand to rest oh so lightly at her waist, right around where the towel is knotted in place. His gaze flits from her face downward, taking in a good view of her bare chest and further south toward the top of her towel.]

Maybe it was because of the square itself.

...Are you turned on right now?

[pawper]

Yeah, kinda...

[Her voice is steady but her breathing is shallow, goosebumps prickling along the line of her shoulders. Her nipples, already swollen and hard, are flushed a deep rosy-pink; the touch of his hand makes electric heat spark through them, and a quiet voice in the back of her mind wonders if it means she's been on this island for too long. The rest of her doesn't care, swept up in the sensation of being watched, studied like a piece of performance art. She doesn't like being stared at by a crowd, not usually, but there was a certain thrill to it now. Maybe because it's something she's not normally into, the sheer strangeness setting her nerves alight.]

You?

[zunge]

Mmm... A little.

[He resists the urge to flit his gaze away due to the topic being now focused on him.]

It always takes a while to get my motor revved.

[Here's to hoping she doesn't find that suspicious. A lot of guys would have the beginnings of a boner by now, presuming they didn't find the lap dancer unappealing.]

[pawper]

That's fine...I mean, no rush, right?

[The robots certainly weren't going to kick them out; if anything, they'd probably be given all kinds of spa freebies the longer this little show went on. And a slow start wasn't the most ominous sign in the world. She's used to being found unappealing—or at least, to being manipulated into thinking that she was.

So she keeps moving, balancing her weight in his lap as their hips grind together. Nothing practiced, but nothing clumsy either, earnestly trying to make this enjoyable for the both of them. Her sense of fairness demanded it, pushing past the burning sense of self-consciousness that had no right making her body feel more and more like a coiled spring twisting tighter, tighter, knotting into a furtive throbbing heat between her legs.]

Just, um, let me know if you want anything else. Or something different? Wouldn't really be fair if I'm the only one having a good time.

[She considers offering, again, to blow him, but decides not to. He'd heard her quite clearly the first time.]

[zunge]

[His hand rests idly on her hip as she moves atop him. Pale green eyes take in those exposed stretches of skin, any sheen of sweat that builds up during her exertions, the way her petite tits move. Though she's flatter than most women he knows, it's not like it makes a difference to him. It just draws more attention to her pert nipples.]

It's fine. I enjoy watching.

[A throb of arousal spikes through him, and he slips his other hand between them to brush against a nipple. She hadn't said he wasn't allowed to touch, so who cares that lapdances usually forbid the one being danced upon to touch the dancer?]

[pawper]

O-Okay. Great. That's just—

[Whatever stupid thing she was about to say next is swallowed up in a gasp as he touches her, betraying just how much she liked it. Not giving herself time to worry about being pinched or grabbed somewhere unpleasant, she arches into his hand, arousal strumming through her body from head to toe like she was a guitar string.]

...a-ahh. More? Please.

[Okay, so. Maybe this place has turned her into a little bit of a nympho. A light sheen of sweat prickles her skin from stimulation alone, stray drops gathering at the vulnerable dip of her collarbone. The weight of eyes locked on them has yet to slide away; intrigued, perhaps, by how the "dancer" seems so much more excitable than the guy whose lap she's grinding.]

[zunge]

[The way her back arches like his mere touch just pressed the right button and cranked up her arousal is a delectable sight to see. The cherry on top: her stammering voice and any flush that grows and blossoms then and there.]

Your body sure is sensitive.

[He brushes his fingers against her nipples again, first one then the other. He also takes the time to lean forward to lick the liquid gathering near the crook of her neck on its way to a dip, tongue darting out to flick at warm, damp, salty skin.]

[pawper]

[She feels like an instrument in his hands, like a machine with every wire and node laid bare; responsive to the lightest touch, growing more and more overheated. He's barely doing anything—was he even hard? And yet she can't seem to help herself.]

N-Nnn...I've been here for too long.

[She smiles strangely around the gasp she can't bite back, staring at the ceiling as she tilts her head back to let him taste as much as he wants. Panting, increasingly lightheaded, she forces herself to keep moving against him in a parody of sex, toes curling against the spa's tiled floor.]

[zunge]

[He's hard by now, getting there slowly but at least he is. She's reactive enough to his touch and makes the right kind of sounds and expressions that it does far more to stimulate his arousal than the sight of a naked body does. He's normalized nudity that much. Her embarrassment but continued willingness to proceed in spite of performative shame is hot.

Noiz nuzzles at her neck and runs his tongue along the skin more, smooth metal tracing along it at times. Fingers play with a nipple now.]

I don't see any issue here.

[pawper]

[His erection is a relief—proof that what she was doing was at least vaguely interesting—and yet nowhere near enough. Simply grinding against him, feeling his heat and the growing hardness in his pants, was more of a tease than truly satisfying, amping up her arousal without bringing her to any kind of peak. Her bare skin felt oversensitive, her nerves like live wires sparking wildly at the lightest touch.

She had learned, in bits and pieces, about chastity belts and the fine art of orgasm denial. Only now does Lys begin to grasp the merits of that kind of play.]

I-I...

[An idea occurs and still, she hesitates. They'd only just met. Maybe he'd think she was gross if she went through with it. People were watching them.

Watching her.

Face tightening, lips pressed flat in a trembling line, Lys fumbles clumsily with the knots keeping the towel secured around her waist, sweat beading thickly at her temples and throat as she struggles to concentrate.]