grandekjnkj
Onlooker
Another story of mine. It is fairly long, but I like it, maybe it is my preferred story so far. I hope you enjoy it too.
[Part 1/4]
Plin, plon!
Hm, a new message, right now that I am in the middle of a class. Luckily, the professor did not hear (or he does not care).
Who bothers me?I check the sender and I get frozen. There is no "message body," it is just a "ping," but I know what it means: today is the day. I get butterflies in my stomach with the anticipation. I am so happy and excited I cannot concentrate on what the professor says.
Excitation remains high for the rest of the day, my attention level is almost nonexistent. My mind wanders planning how to get there and what to wear. I look at my reflection in the window and I ask to myself if I should go to the hairdresser. Yes, I want to be in top shape.
Even at lunch I am absented mind. My friends ask me if everything is OK, since I am less talkative than usual. Someone jokes saying I am thinking to my new secret boyfriend. I reassure them and tell them that there is no secret boyfriend right now. I would like to tell them why I am on another planet right now, but I can't. They would not understand; actually, they wouldn't even believe me...
The reason for my excitation is a wild, wild party (really wild, you'll see) that will take place this evening at the Moving Colosseum. It is so wild to be border line as a matter of legality; therefore, it is not held regularly, nor always in the same place (hence, the "Moving"). The organizers fix the dates randomly, every time in a different place. Those belonging to the special network are contacted with a "ping" on Whatsapp, like the one I received. If you want to participate, you reply with a special message and instructions on how to reach the part is sent to you. Usually they organize some shuttles using limos with smoked glasses, so you do not know where you are going. Yes, it sounds more like a kidnapping than a shuttle.
I am ready to go. The shuttle will stop in a corner few blocks away, I can go there by foot.
I check my look to see if everything is fine and I like what I see. I am a university student (electrical engineering, if you want to know). I like to play instruments, a bit of video games and I love doing cosplay because I can "change my skin" and transform myself (or, actually, let my true self coming out).
I have natural red, copper‐like, shoulder‐length wavy hairs, completed by the canonical blue eyes and freckles. The carpet matches the drapes, if you want to know. I leave it unshaven because I like it, it looks like a copper bush. (My boyfriends loved it too).
I am on the "petite" side, but not minuscule (I am something less than 165 cm tall), with a breast fairly larger than average for my height, roughly a D.
What I am wearing is (deceptively) simple: just a long white sleeveless turtle neck sweater that arrives midway the thigh and it is decorated with sequins. My arms are covered by two white finger‐less opera gloves that start from above the elbow. The sweater is fairly tight, showing the curves of my body, the nipples and their ring piercing. The sweater has a small hole at the belly button that requires a nice piercing there too. It is so tight that it would show any underwear, if I were wearing any.
I look down at my little feet and their little toes decorated with red‐orange nail varnish. I do not wear any shoes. Yes, I told you that those were wild parties, didn't I?
I began attending those parties barefoot few months ago. Everyone knows me as "Barefoot Ginger;" yeah, I'm famous. Initially I was leaving home wearing two old shoes that I would leave on the road when the shuttle arrived. Recently I got braver and I am leaving home barefoot. It is quite late in the night and the probability of meeting anyone I know are nil. I would die for the embarrassment. Let's face it: this makes me feel really "bad" and excite me.
A small white pochette with sequins holding the basic stuff completes my look.
From the description above you would think that I am the hottest girl in my class, always dressed in sexy outfit, constantly ogled by any male around, always ready to party and getting high with booze and maybe some other stuff.
You couldn't be wronger.
In real life I am quite a "next door" girl, the kind you could safely introduce to your parents. I usually wear jeans (comfortable ones) or a skirt below the knee, a t-shirt and sneakers. I also do not love getting high on alcohol (only on adrenaline, as you'll see). Yes, I drink beer and wine, but not so much that I get drunk.
Yeah, I am your average, almost boring, classmate, or at least I look like that... The folk saying "Still water runs deep" suites me like a dress.
I am at the designated corner, waiting for the shuttle. It is a mid December night and it is quite cold (I am wearing only the sweater, remember). I think it will snow, I can feel it with my feet from the temperature of the road: it is so freezing it almost hurts.
The limo arrives and I get on, there is already someone else. "Hi, Ginger! Long time no see... Cold night, uh? Well, we'll be up to us to make it hot...""Hi Firefox! Nice to see you!"
Firefox is maybe my best friend in this alternate reality. She is a redhead like me, but she has not hairs, she has a mane: huge, heavy and long almost to the buttocks. She is quite tall and imposing, think about Jessica Rabbit in "Who Framed Roger Rabbit" or Anita Ekberg but red. Despite her almost intimidating appearance she is very nice and sweet and fun to be around. I often wonder about her "regular world person:" what she does for a living, if she has a family and so on... but this kind of questions are taboo here.
She wears an elegant tight and long dress without shoulder and with a huge split showing nice, round, feminine thighs and long harmonious legs ending with two impressive sexy stilettos. The dress has shades of orange, red and yellow that look like flames and it nicely matches her shade of red. From an hole on the back, just in the middle of the butt, a fluffy, orange fox tail, hold by a plug, exits (did I tell you that the party is wild?). I do not know how she manages to walk, stand and even sit with that thing, but she does. Actually, she is also able to wag it when flirting with someone. A fundamental skill, no doubt. The picture is completed by two cute fox ears. Now maybe you understand why she is called Firefox...
Bottles of pretty expensive champagne and a huge box of caviar are there for us, free. You can have also some cocaine, if you ask. I never tried; as I told you I prefer to get high on adrenaline.
I help myself with the champagne and toast with Firefox. We do the "arm crossed toast" like two lovers and exchange a fast kiss. In real life I am heterosexual, mind you, but here it is different, especially with Firefox...
You could wonder about the cost of the ticket if you get limo shuttle, champagne, caviar, and other stuff for free. Well, I do not know, actually, but I know that we are in the range of tens of thousand of euros. Yes, stuff for very rich people.
How can a humble university student afford these prices? Well, there is a way to get a ticket for free, sorta...
You see, they can sell tickets at such outrageous prices because of the "piece of resistance" of the event: during the night one (sometimes more) person gets executed on stage. Yes, you read it right: they kill someone for fun, a bit like they did in ancient Rome in Colosseum (hence the name). Yes, quite sick.
The victims are volunteers, making this, technically, not a murder but a kind of "assisted suicide" which is legal here. The legal issues are quite muddy, though, and this is what makes these events borderline with legality (besides the complimentary drugs).
Volunteers? Why should one volunteer for such a thing? Because of a perverted "Russian roulette" mechanism; let me explain...
If you want to enter for free, you propose yourself as a volunteer, submitting your "execution plan." Every night they draw at random one of the present volunteers, the Chosen One, who will go on stage to suffer the ordeal s/he chosen for him/herself.
There are different "volunteer ticket" levels: the more spectacular the execution, the higher the level granted. More spectacular means, as you can guess, slower and more painful. It is not so exciting to see someone killed with a gunshot to the head, better to see someone slowly hanged or burned at stake. This is why the volunteers are also called torturettes. In case you are wondering, I have the top ticket. Yes, my demise will be wonderful.
Every night there is a fairly number of volunteers, so there is a good probability that this "Russian roulette" will spare you. Of course, there is a possibility that you do not go back home... What they do with the victim body is not really known. For sure they do not give it back to the family and the torturette simply vanishes... Someone says that they are "served" as snacks during the event, but it is not clear if it is true or it is just a rumor spread by the organizers to make the event more "exciting" and "perverted" (and sick, yes, but this is the market they aim to).
This is why these events are not regular, nor in the same place: they do not want a pattern of lost young people to pop up.
You could ask if any party can be so good to justify the high price of your life, even if with some probability of being spared, and you would be right. It is like some very expensive wine bottle: how can a wine to be so good to justify a price of 1000 euro per bottle?
I cannot speak for the wine lovers, but for me it is not the club nights (that are really fun), but the adrenaline I get by playing this high risk game and that it makes me feel alive. I almost get drunk by the excitation. Between two events I miss these high excitement nights where I dress like a bitch and walk barefoot, ready to have my blood shed on stage. Also, the execution I choose is a sexual fantasy of mine and I get wet only by imagining that today could be my day. I know that Firefox is thinking the same right now, I can literally smell it. I touch her down there and she is wet; she touches me too. We kiss intensely while giving each other pleasure. A good starting.
We relax for a while in the afterglow, while the car bumps up and down on some irregular terrain, then Firefox reaches for her pochette. "Oh, by the way, Ginger, I have something for you." She pulls out a tiny, pink, cylindrical object, that looks like a tampon, but made of silicone. It could be a vibrator. "It is a vibrator" Yeah, I guessed it. "You can control it with a smartphone. Its shape allows you to wear it continuously and you can activate it with the smartphone when, for example, you are on the metro, masturbating in front of everyone..."
I take it, it is smooth and soft, it is kawaii and perverted, it resonates with my being, I love it. I could wear it right now.
"It has also a special feature: you can 'twin' two of them so that they are activated at the same time; it has also a 'smart‐twin' mode where every device feels the arousal of the wearer and communicates it to the other, so that the two partners have they arousal synchronized."
Wow... I love it even more; not only for the dissolute overtones that this idea suggests, but also for the technical side... I get lost in thinking how this can be done... (remember that under this libertine look dwells an engineer soul after all...)
"I propose you a pact" Firefox's voice snaps me back to reality. She takes out another vibrator from her pochette, this one blue. "Let's twin them and wear them. If one of us is the Chosen One this night, the other one will use the app to masturbate together with the victim. Just think about it: dying while being masturbated by your friend, knowing it is your last orgasm... Think how much the public will love to see you or me panting and groaning with our last breaths..."
I am getting wet again... let's do it! While I insert the vibrator (it is quite comfy, good work!) I smile thinking about what my classmates would say if they could see me now: the sweater rolled up to my navel, my legs open, fitting a vibrator inside me in front of Firefox who is doing the same. I massage myself to check if it is well fitted, feeling my "copper wool."
[continue]
[Part 1/4]
Plin, plon!
Hm, a new message, right now that I am in the middle of a class. Luckily, the professor did not hear (or he does not care).
Who bothers me?I check the sender and I get frozen. There is no "message body," it is just a "ping," but I know what it means: today is the day. I get butterflies in my stomach with the anticipation. I am so happy and excited I cannot concentrate on what the professor says.
Excitation remains high for the rest of the day, my attention level is almost nonexistent. My mind wanders planning how to get there and what to wear. I look at my reflection in the window and I ask to myself if I should go to the hairdresser. Yes, I want to be in top shape.
Even at lunch I am absented mind. My friends ask me if everything is OK, since I am less talkative than usual. Someone jokes saying I am thinking to my new secret boyfriend. I reassure them and tell them that there is no secret boyfriend right now. I would like to tell them why I am on another planet right now, but I can't. They would not understand; actually, they wouldn't even believe me...
The reason for my excitation is a wild, wild party (really wild, you'll see) that will take place this evening at the Moving Colosseum. It is so wild to be border line as a matter of legality; therefore, it is not held regularly, nor always in the same place (hence, the "Moving"). The organizers fix the dates randomly, every time in a different place. Those belonging to the special network are contacted with a "ping" on Whatsapp, like the one I received. If you want to participate, you reply with a special message and instructions on how to reach the part is sent to you. Usually they organize some shuttles using limos with smoked glasses, so you do not know where you are going. Yes, it sounds more like a kidnapping than a shuttle.
I am ready to go. The shuttle will stop in a corner few blocks away, I can go there by foot.
I check my look to see if everything is fine and I like what I see. I am a university student (electrical engineering, if you want to know). I like to play instruments, a bit of video games and I love doing cosplay because I can "change my skin" and transform myself (or, actually, let my true self coming out).
I have natural red, copper‐like, shoulder‐length wavy hairs, completed by the canonical blue eyes and freckles. The carpet matches the drapes, if you want to know. I leave it unshaven because I like it, it looks like a copper bush. (My boyfriends loved it too).
I am on the "petite" side, but not minuscule (I am something less than 165 cm tall), with a breast fairly larger than average for my height, roughly a D.
What I am wearing is (deceptively) simple: just a long white sleeveless turtle neck sweater that arrives midway the thigh and it is decorated with sequins. My arms are covered by two white finger‐less opera gloves that start from above the elbow. The sweater is fairly tight, showing the curves of my body, the nipples and their ring piercing. The sweater has a small hole at the belly button that requires a nice piercing there too. It is so tight that it would show any underwear, if I were wearing any.
I look down at my little feet and their little toes decorated with red‐orange nail varnish. I do not wear any shoes. Yes, I told you that those were wild parties, didn't I?
I began attending those parties barefoot few months ago. Everyone knows me as "Barefoot Ginger;" yeah, I'm famous. Initially I was leaving home wearing two old shoes that I would leave on the road when the shuttle arrived. Recently I got braver and I am leaving home barefoot. It is quite late in the night and the probability of meeting anyone I know are nil. I would die for the embarrassment. Let's face it: this makes me feel really "bad" and excite me.
A small white pochette with sequins holding the basic stuff completes my look.
From the description above you would think that I am the hottest girl in my class, always dressed in sexy outfit, constantly ogled by any male around, always ready to party and getting high with booze and maybe some other stuff.
You couldn't be wronger.
In real life I am quite a "next door" girl, the kind you could safely introduce to your parents. I usually wear jeans (comfortable ones) or a skirt below the knee, a t-shirt and sneakers. I also do not love getting high on alcohol (only on adrenaline, as you'll see). Yes, I drink beer and wine, but not so much that I get drunk.
Yeah, I am your average, almost boring, classmate, or at least I look like that... The folk saying "Still water runs deep" suites me like a dress.
I am at the designated corner, waiting for the shuttle. It is a mid December night and it is quite cold (I am wearing only the sweater, remember). I think it will snow, I can feel it with my feet from the temperature of the road: it is so freezing it almost hurts.
The limo arrives and I get on, there is already someone else. "Hi, Ginger! Long time no see... Cold night, uh? Well, we'll be up to us to make it hot...""Hi Firefox! Nice to see you!"
Firefox is maybe my best friend in this alternate reality. She is a redhead like me, but she has not hairs, she has a mane: huge, heavy and long almost to the buttocks. She is quite tall and imposing, think about Jessica Rabbit in "Who Framed Roger Rabbit" or Anita Ekberg but red. Despite her almost intimidating appearance she is very nice and sweet and fun to be around. I often wonder about her "regular world person:" what she does for a living, if she has a family and so on... but this kind of questions are taboo here.
She wears an elegant tight and long dress without shoulder and with a huge split showing nice, round, feminine thighs and long harmonious legs ending with two impressive sexy stilettos. The dress has shades of orange, red and yellow that look like flames and it nicely matches her shade of red. From an hole on the back, just in the middle of the butt, a fluffy, orange fox tail, hold by a plug, exits (did I tell you that the party is wild?). I do not know how she manages to walk, stand and even sit with that thing, but she does. Actually, she is also able to wag it when flirting with someone. A fundamental skill, no doubt. The picture is completed by two cute fox ears. Now maybe you understand why she is called Firefox...
Bottles of pretty expensive champagne and a huge box of caviar are there for us, free. You can have also some cocaine, if you ask. I never tried; as I told you I prefer to get high on adrenaline.
I help myself with the champagne and toast with Firefox. We do the "arm crossed toast" like two lovers and exchange a fast kiss. In real life I am heterosexual, mind you, but here it is different, especially with Firefox...
You could wonder about the cost of the ticket if you get limo shuttle, champagne, caviar, and other stuff for free. Well, I do not know, actually, but I know that we are in the range of tens of thousand of euros. Yes, stuff for very rich people.
How can a humble university student afford these prices? Well, there is a way to get a ticket for free, sorta...
You see, they can sell tickets at such outrageous prices because of the "piece of resistance" of the event: during the night one (sometimes more) person gets executed on stage. Yes, you read it right: they kill someone for fun, a bit like they did in ancient Rome in Colosseum (hence the name). Yes, quite sick.
The victims are volunteers, making this, technically, not a murder but a kind of "assisted suicide" which is legal here. The legal issues are quite muddy, though, and this is what makes these events borderline with legality (besides the complimentary drugs).
Volunteers? Why should one volunteer for such a thing? Because of a perverted "Russian roulette" mechanism; let me explain...
If you want to enter for free, you propose yourself as a volunteer, submitting your "execution plan." Every night they draw at random one of the present volunteers, the Chosen One, who will go on stage to suffer the ordeal s/he chosen for him/herself.
There are different "volunteer ticket" levels: the more spectacular the execution, the higher the level granted. More spectacular means, as you can guess, slower and more painful. It is not so exciting to see someone killed with a gunshot to the head, better to see someone slowly hanged or burned at stake. This is why the volunteers are also called torturettes. In case you are wondering, I have the top ticket. Yes, my demise will be wonderful.
Every night there is a fairly number of volunteers, so there is a good probability that this "Russian roulette" will spare you. Of course, there is a possibility that you do not go back home... What they do with the victim body is not really known. For sure they do not give it back to the family and the torturette simply vanishes... Someone says that they are "served" as snacks during the event, but it is not clear if it is true or it is just a rumor spread by the organizers to make the event more "exciting" and "perverted" (and sick, yes, but this is the market they aim to).
This is why these events are not regular, nor in the same place: they do not want a pattern of lost young people to pop up.
You could ask if any party can be so good to justify the high price of your life, even if with some probability of being spared, and you would be right. It is like some very expensive wine bottle: how can a wine to be so good to justify a price of 1000 euro per bottle?
I cannot speak for the wine lovers, but for me it is not the club nights (that are really fun), but the adrenaline I get by playing this high risk game and that it makes me feel alive. I almost get drunk by the excitation. Between two events I miss these high excitement nights where I dress like a bitch and walk barefoot, ready to have my blood shed on stage. Also, the execution I choose is a sexual fantasy of mine and I get wet only by imagining that today could be my day. I know that Firefox is thinking the same right now, I can literally smell it. I touch her down there and she is wet; she touches me too. We kiss intensely while giving each other pleasure. A good starting.
We relax for a while in the afterglow, while the car bumps up and down on some irregular terrain, then Firefox reaches for her pochette. "Oh, by the way, Ginger, I have something for you." She pulls out a tiny, pink, cylindrical object, that looks like a tampon, but made of silicone. It could be a vibrator. "It is a vibrator" Yeah, I guessed it. "You can control it with a smartphone. Its shape allows you to wear it continuously and you can activate it with the smartphone when, for example, you are on the metro, masturbating in front of everyone..."
I take it, it is smooth and soft, it is kawaii and perverted, it resonates with my being, I love it. I could wear it right now.
"It has also a special feature: you can 'twin' two of them so that they are activated at the same time; it has also a 'smart‐twin' mode where every device feels the arousal of the wearer and communicates it to the other, so that the two partners have they arousal synchronized."
Wow... I love it even more; not only for the dissolute overtones that this idea suggests, but also for the technical side... I get lost in thinking how this can be done... (remember that under this libertine look dwells an engineer soul after all...)
"I propose you a pact" Firefox's voice snaps me back to reality. She takes out another vibrator from her pochette, this one blue. "Let's twin them and wear them. If one of us is the Chosen One this night, the other one will use the app to masturbate together with the victim. Just think about it: dying while being masturbated by your friend, knowing it is your last orgasm... Think how much the public will love to see you or me panting and groaning with our last breaths..."
I am getting wet again... let's do it! While I insert the vibrator (it is quite comfy, good work!) I smile thinking about what my classmates would say if they could see me now: the sweater rolled up to my navel, my legs open, fitting a vibrator inside me in front of Firefox who is doing the same. I massage myself to check if it is well fitted, feeling my "copper wool."
[continue]
