Stable Employment Pt. 02 - Final - Sex Stories

Stable Employment Pt. 02 - Final

... vindicated, for it was the bite of the apple that led to their deaths. In order to know that paradise wasn't a prison, they had to give it up. The man in Plato's cave left the fire behind and ventured out into the unforgiving snow. Jane the Savage Dickgirl in that brave new world... well. That's almosttoo on the nose." If ever someone could start pacing like a lunatic while still sitting down, it would be this man opposite me, right now, and it is fucking scary. He's not some cartoon with shoulders five times wider than his waist, and I don't see any hint of bulging, rippling, veiny muscle... but he's a man. He's stronger than girls. He's stronger than dickgirls. It's not even close. There's something coursing through his veins that I'm sure science understands, but that it can't possibly do justice with its warnings. You need art. You need witchy-woo-woo nonsense. You need people to be genuinely scared of the story you tell around the campfire so that they don't go to that real place where something very real is really waiting to really kill them.

"... Who in the fuck are you?" I ask.

The horrible, magical substance recedes, but now that I've sensed it, I know that it's not gone. It'll never be gone. He shrugs. "I'm just a man, Corin. I'm not special -- just rare. I dabble in history, literature, and art. I dabble in everything. It's something to do between orgasms, amazing food, the unique pleasure of shitting, and the strange bliss of sleep. That's all anything ...

... is."

"You're kinda fucked up though."

He laughs. Even though it's not violent or threatening at all, it's still scary. "I really do like you, Corin," he says. "I know you don't like me, and that's okay. If we take you on, it's all about the girls. Me trying to get you to like me? It'll be a game. We'll barely have time to play it anyway. Maybe a few rounds ofHonor Combat Arena. Heck, you might not even know it's me you're playing with, or against. Maybe you already have."

I shrug, and it's three different kinds of fake. "Not really my game," I reply. "I'm more of aCheerful Cartoon Melee Explosion girl."

"I know," he says. "You're not bad with Magic Kat. I'm a fan of Choo Cherub, but I get my wins with Empty Armor."

Fuck me. Just... fuck me. He knows everything about me. I didn't really believe it until just now, but how can you possibly deny it when somebody knows your main inMelee? I have half a mind to call him out, just on the off chance he's bullshitting and doesn't actually play. What if he does, though? What if he's being honest about everything?

Also: fuck me, because this scary, half-alien creature is... just a person. He's just a fucking person. He's got that dark magic coursing through his veins, but still. I need to get my head back in the game -- and that's what he keeps trying to tell me, right? It's a game. The interview is a game. The job is a game. Everything's a game, in a game, in a game. So? Let's play.

"Do you find me sexually attractive?" ...