| Another silly one, so one-handed surfers might like to check back later…This is a fantasy, and that means I can be anyone, anywhere, any time, so… I’m going to be “me” in the 1980’s, when white jeans were somehow sexy, leg-warmers weren’t ridiculous, and guys wore pastel jackets even if they were straight… As you can see, I know so very little about the era beyond a puddle of well-mixed cultural kitsch that this should at the very least be droll if you lived through it… ***“Nancy’s joining me because the message this evening is not my message, but ours…” the gigantic, state-of-the-art 24” television in the centre of the alcove resisted the puny remote signal to the distance of almost touching, then *sighed* in full stereo sound, and we were alone again in the room… the miracle of live link-up broadcasts sadly had a downside when left in the hands of international politicians…Nancy’s wisdom would have been wasted on us anyway even if she actually knew what she was talking about this time… we were in no fit state to make rational choices… I drunkenly tripped over Clarence as he made his happy-tailed way from person to person, fishing for appreciative strokes with his nose, and snuffling up the carpet-snow of fallen crumbs from the table…“So… Gemma… you fail your CHA roll…”“Uhhh….? Hello? I don’t think so sweetie…” my dee-dee boppers flicked aggressively forward as I fixed Mondrack the Terrible with a sharp glare, the little glittery hearts bobbing wildly but expressively in trying to communicate that Gemma simply does not ever fail a routine charisma check; not here in the basement, not there in the sewers of some godforsaken extension kit… I loosened the straps on my metal roller-skates as Mondrack tried to meet my defiant eyes… I wrinkled my nose in protest… A hush descended in the room as my fellow adventurers held their breath at the challenge... The sound of six digital watches going berserk on the hour the only break in the tension...“So… Gemma… you fail your CHA roll… and no, I am not going to accept a flash of your cleavage as any sort of modifier…” Busted! My hand drew away from my collar slowly as if it didn’t even comprehend what he could have been suggesting…“Yeah, wouldn’t it be nice of we could all do that once in a while?” Rich ran a comb through his quiff and pulled his best Morrissey-getting-slapped face…“You know what Rich? Wouldn’t it be nice if you rolled your dice where we could all see them once in a while?” glitter snowed down onto the map of Olde Dragonlance as I pulled a killer pout… “And why the hell did they name their country after a weapon that’s frankly crap, eh?”“See? I told you girls couldn’t play! No imagination… no feel for fantasy…” Mark seemed quite animated for a man who called himself The Lord of Apathy; don’t misunderstand me: he called himself that all the time, not just in the game… All black nail polish and panda eyeliner; I had offered to show him how to use lipstick, you know, to make himself look more like a human being, and less like a clown, but apparently I could “never understand” his pain, so therefore never appreciate the “parody of beauty” he was expressing… In a literal sense he was of course wrong as it was plain for all to see that here was a victim of a repressed upbringing…My nostrils flared in contempt. “And while we’re all picking on me, it’s pronounced “old” not “oldie”, and “ye” is pronounced “the”, oh learned wizard of the white age… How can an age be “white” anyway?” I was not backing down from that CHA roll…The Sage of All Towers adjusted the plaster strip on his glasses nervously, a little souvenir from a time when I had failed an INT roll during some campaign of his…“Why are all of your characters called Gemma, Gemma?” my name pronounced to rhyme with “MMMMMMMmmmng”… Our party midget thief… so sorry… halfing thief was expressing himself particularly maturely this evening… As I stared down at him his rolled-up jacket sleeves flopped down yet again, and he tried to catch them both awkwardly… I unconsciously reached down to check that my leg warmers were level…“Err… look, why don’t we play another cassette and have a break before continuing?” Pretty good attempt at harmony for a self-professed Follower of Chaos, William looked around the table with winning eyes, and I went gooey from my throat to my stomach… then slightly green… then definitely unwell as three hours of binge drinking suddenly resurfaced unexpectedly…The hurried sound of eject, scrabble, insert, close, re-wind, violent mechanical protest, then hisssss as the speaker spoke once more. The unmistakable electronic bleeps of the Theme from Knightrider excited the smoky air, and we all gazed in open-mouthed awe at just how cool William was…“How did you get it so clear? Is this with a microphone?” The discussion moved onto the finer points of taping from the television, how awkward the explosion at the beginning of Thundercats was to record without distortion, and the exact nature of the crime that the whole of the A-team could have committed to warrant the deployment of a light infantry division dedicated solely to their re-capture… and for the moment at least, there was still a good chance that I was simply going to breeze that CHA roll after all…****“SO… Gemma… YOU FAIL your CHA ROLL…” fifteen chain-smoked cigarettes on, and the only thing beginning to concede with Mondrack was his ability to see through the smoke cloud I was infusing the room with… Rich had mentioned something about some magazine article he had caught our beloved Dungeon Master reading all about self-development, whatever that means, and saw him actually fill out a coupon for a series of supposedly “life-altering” cassette tapes… totally wasted on Mondrack of course, because it did kind of imply you have to have a life to begin with…Below the blanket of smoke, Clarence feasted on a fallen slice of pizza, oblivious to the valiant struggle being fought above his head.I flicked my pink unicorn dice irritably into the side of William’s wood nymph miniature, which flipped nimbly into Rich’s Cleric of Sexual Depravity. “You know, that nymph must get pretty hot in all her bra and knickers…” I scowled. “And I have a Catholic friend who says nuns don’t really dress like that Rich…” his crushing disappointment clear for all to see…A black onyx skull die lanced of Princess Gemma the Bold’s shield, and *plinked* into the pewter goblet being grasped by The Sage of All Towers… In unison now: “You’re shit! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!”, and the Lord of Apathy was suitably told.Back to me, please…“This reminds me of the time when you lot made me be the character with the red shirt in that Star Trek game… you all picked on me then, too…” I exhaled my self-pity, and tried to look more hurt than drunk…A loud coughing fit from The Sage broke the stand-off once more, and when the die had been dislodged, I launched my final offensive…***“If that’s what it takes… the yes…” Hah-hah! Mondrack just got called on his shit…The stunned silence sank into my drunken brain; ah what the hell, how bad could it really be?***Five years of Just Seventeen magazine and never one article on how to give head to a dog! I made a mental note to get the word processor out and rectify this glaring omission in the modern girl’s bible, but for the moment my attention was focused on keeping Clarence inside of my mouth without his amazing length gagging my throat.My dee-dee boppers swayed rhythmically to the rhythm as Clarence lay in appreciative awe on his little back up on the table.The redness of his huge erection was intensified by the lily whiteness of my hands, and from the unblinking expressions of the audience, most likely my pale lips too… The texture was incredibly smooth inside of my mouth… soft yet solid… odd yet not unpleasant… and at least Clarence wasn’t the type of dog to force my head into his crotch just for the sake of hearing me choke… not like the last dickhead I was with, and he didn’t even offer to pay my bus fare when it arrived; talk about ungrateful!I worked up and down slowly with my lips, gently grazing the taught flesh with my teeth, a real showgirl blowjob, according to Cosmo…I could feel their eyes watering with the desire to blink, their tear ducts swelling with impulsive agony as they mentally tried to invent a way of recording this sight easily and without the need for developing film in a public laboratory, and then perhaps somehow sending it to all of their friends really quickly without having to go through customs and excise…The other wonderful thing about Clarence was that despite my initial concern, not a single stray hair slipped into my mouth, what with his erection being a good three inches longer than I could comfortably fit inside of my throat. So, if I was going to choke, it would be on an obstruction that didn’t require five minutes coughing and hacking to remove…… or so I thought…You might think that somewhere someone would have mentioned so basic facts about dogs, their extraordinary ability to swell up inside of your mouth, and… and here’s where I might really have paid attention in class… exactly how much of an alarming mouthful, a sudden choking throat-full, a subsequent puking-in-your-own-lap-full, that a dog can ejaculate…As I heaved up a night’s worth of drink, pizza and dog semen down my denim shirt and into a spreading mauve stain on my beautiful white jeans, lines of sticky drool-puke-cum dangling from my lips and hair now that the glittering hearts had leapt away to safety, I smiled triumphantly at the gagging table of adventurers, for now they truly understood that Gemma does not fail a routine CHA roll, ever…THE END***Yeah, there was one in every party wasn’t there? Well, I was worse… I never blew a dog, but I did give someone a hand-job for a quick reshuffle of the deck when everyone else was out bringing home the pizzas… Princess Gemma the Bold never failed her CHA rolls ever again, routine or otherwise… |
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