02-01-2016, 03:58 AM
(This post was last modified: 02-01-2016, 10:39 PM by IvanXLIV.
Edit Reason: format
)
Hello all,
I've been working on this short story for nearly three weeks, whenever I could scrounge enough time to do so. You could say it's a whimsical retelling of my in-game experiences since joining the Club, with a great deal of poetic license.
I took the liberty of casting a few club members in, shall we say, little "cameos" - but don't worry, all names have been changed to preserve everyone's anonymity... this being said, you're welcome to guess who's who!
My sincere apolologies for any forgotten typo, superlative prose, bad translations (I worked with online ressources such as the Wiktionary), and irregular narrative. In my defense, I can only point out my neophyte's status and willingness to improve over time. Feel absolutely free to criticize any or all part of it. Praises won't be turned down either...
So, without further ado...
A NIGHT AT THE VODKA, by IvanXLIV
(text will follow in succeeding posts)
A Night at the Vodka - part I
Closing his eyes, he tried to recapture the tantalizing memory of her perfume; it evoked a blend of honey and cinnamon, or perhaps a spring-like fragrance not unlike the grassy green meadows of her Celtic birthplace. After their lovemaking, spent but glowingly happy, they had snuggled close together for a little while before going their separate ways. He had never seen her again.
A night at the Vodka - part II
The wooden steps of the corkscrewing staircase wandered down to the main den, where a splash or riotous colors shone about the glazed tiles of the dance floor. A score of partying customers, clustered in small groups, chatted and danced animatedly. Others were relaxing at the bar, propped against the glossy counter with a drink in hand, either silently surveying the whole scene or exchanging almost inaudible words.
Ivan recognized a few familiar faces: Ysatske was attending, and so was the Lord of the Bants himself. Lucia Sugosa stood besides the somber Bors of Gaunnes, and here was Mistress Tamfana, delightfully provocative as ever. Sibiem and Fordel were there too, and Pearl Deszczyk stood out in a ravishing, teal-colored satin gown. He caught a fleeting glimpse of several others known to him, but they were soon lost in the chatting throng.
“Hello Vraven, so you’re the one on duty tonight. Quite a crowd already, isn’t it?”
“Evening, Ivan. I certainly can’t complain. The usual?”
Clad in a dark grey linen shirt and matching fedora, the bartender handed a glass of ruby-hued claret to a waiting lady as he spoke.
“Yes please.”
Vraven acquiesced with a nod, pivoted toward one of the bar’s brass-colored taps, and with a swift and practiced hand filled a heavy stein with stout, dark beer. Setting the cold, foaming beverage down on the polished mahogany counter in front of Ivan, the bartender winked and signaled him to get a bit closer.
“Rumour has it one of the Founders might pay us a visit later”, he whispered with a grin.
“You don’t say? Which one?” Ivan was genuinely intrigued.
“I don’t know for sure, but it could be the Architect himself. Sorry, can’t talk much right now – customers are waiting… we’ll chat latter; perhaps when I go off-duty. Have a nice evening, my friend.”
Ivan nodded and leaned back against the counter, slowing surveying the circular chamber and the human jungle contained therein. The mug felt cool and heavy in his hand. Straining his eyes slightly due to the subdued illumination, he tried to spot the arrival of the fabled programmer, but to no avail. Another figure, however, caught his attention.
A night at the Vodka - part III
Yeoja Hwaga stood by a steel column on the far side of the room, her trim, delicate features sashaying ever so slightly to the ambient sounds. As usual, she was quietly entertaining one of her paramours, a dark and handsome fellow of evident nobility. Presently he must have regaled her with a witty anecdote, for she tossed aside her long, silky black hair to the side, laughing with joyful abandon. Her pearly smile parted the darkness like a stray beam of sunlight piercing a clouded sky.
How quaint to see her here, Ivan reflected; she usually prefers standing outdoors for her nocturnal visits, or have leisurely strolls in quieter places, such as the foot of the waterfalls or down the marbled steps of the museum.
He patiently waited for her to notice his presence. When she eventually did, he nodded a quiet greeting. Yeoja answered her friend with a quick smile before turning back to her companion. I’d better not disturb her, Ivan thought. The two of them are just getting started, and the night is long…
As time passed the dancers got steadily warmed up while a subtle, throbbing quality in the air signaled the flowing exchange of etheric playlists. The ambient lighting, already diffuse, mingled with the reflected patterns of the floor to create a dreamlike reality. At the periphery of this moving sea, darkened booths furnished with plush crimson sofas became islands of sensual privacy for an increasing number of couples.
Ivan, idly sipping his preferred lager, took time to study the latter in detail. At the nearest booth, an elfin woman slowly crept in the lap of her partner, her tiny, perky breasts level with his square chin. The man slid his hands under her skirt, guiding her with slow, measured thrusts. She sighed a low, sustained moan of pleasure, gyrating her hips at an increasing pace.
In the booth next to them, two men were hungrily locking lips, and judging by the occasional tremor from under their table, their hands were busy as well. Further away, a short-haired, dark-skinned girl coyly slid a magnetic card in her lover’s cleavage and moments later, both women dissolved in a cascade of brightly glowing pixels – presumably transported to the former’s hotel room.
Other alcoves across the room were similarly affected, as the ambient mood of barely-suppressed desire reached yet another carnal level. In those dark recesses, searching hands were groping with increasing boldness, mouths kissed and nibbled skin moistily, bodies heaved and breathed with gasps of pleasure. Ivan smiled knowingly. It would seem the natives are indeed restless tonight…
A night at the Vodka - part IV
A slight movement to the left of him brought Ivan out of his reverie. A subtle lavender scent, with a dash of sandalwood, agreeably filled his nostrils. A woman, in all likelihood. He turned nonchalantly toward her, grateful for a chance to chat and trade stories with another patron…
… and just stared at her, transfixed, his heart skipping several beats. The lady – for it was indeed a woman – was incredibly attractive; Ivan distinctly felt his pulse quickening once more, along with the first warm stirrings in his loins indicative of a rising erection. Somewhat self-consciously, he shifted his overall posture to conceal the growing bulge in his pants.
Never had Ivan beheld such a beauty since meeting Samscha the elfmaiden. Tall and lithe as a birch tree, and just as fair, she had sauntered out of the canopied twilight of the Inkeigangu Forest, her silvery white braids glittering in the sunlit morning, tauntingly eager to roleplay their naughty tryst up to its naked, lustful conclusions.
The newcomer was, by contrast, dark haired, with undulating locks the shade of Arabian nights cascading down her slim shoulders, almost reaching to the small of her back. And those eyes… Men afraid of water must have eagerly drowned in their inviting depts. Ochi chornyye, ochi strastnyye, ochi zhguchiye i prekrasnyye… the traditional lyrics flooded Ivan’s mind unbidden.
“Hello. I’m new here… this is quite a fascinating place, isn’t it?” asked the lady demurely.
“It is indeed. And stimulating, too.” Ivan answered affably.
After a short pause, he added: “So are the people who travel to the Land, as you can see…” With a discreet gesture, he pointed to the recessed, shadowed booths and their fornicating occupants.
“Oh my…” The lady grinned, blushing ever so slightly, her breath catching for a brief moment. She drew closer to Ivan, her forearm brushing gently against his. Her exotic perfume was distinctly enticing now, and it made him feel giddy. His erected member was getting painfully hard, too.
“Have you visited the various districts of the Land? Each one is special in its own way, miss…?”
“My name is Madida. No, I haven’t ventured very far…” She was still gazing intently at the nearest alcove, her full, luscious lips slightly parted. Ivan couldn’t help wondering how they would taste and feel. The elfin woman was on all fours on the table now, gripping the edges tightly, her face contorted in the throes of ecstasy; her partner remained seated, anointing her genitals with a probing tongue.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Madida. You can call me Ivan.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Ivan.” She turned back toward him, with a playful shyness that wasn’t feigned. “Please, do tell me everything there is to know about this place…”
… They talked until the small hours of the night, oblivious to the world around them. Their friendly banter grew interspersed with long, meaningful stares and pointedly subtle innuendos.
A night at the Vodka - part V (final)
… After awhile, buoyed by their exquisitely stimulating tête-à-tête, Ivan ventured a bold proposal to his beautiful companion: “Would you accept a formal bond of friendship?”
A few milliseconds later, he felt the etheric connection surge briefly, confirming Madida’s acceptance. Smiling, she entwined her slender arm under his, resting her head on his shoulder contentedly. Her dark, lustrous hair was soft on his chin; the warmth of her perfect body and her slow, steady breathing had a soothing effect on his aroused senses.
“Would you care for a long, quiet walk to the overlook? At this time of night, the cascading waters glitter with motes of reflected starlight… It’s quite a sight, you know.”
“I certainly would. Lead the way”, answered Madida.
Leaving the noise of the Kabák Vódki behind, they stepped into the relative tranquility of the cold, crisp air of the surrounding taiga. The moonlit skies were entirely bereft of clouds, the myriad stars twinkling high above, strewn about the black tapestry of the firmament like so many faceted gemstones. In the surrounding silence, the snow crackled with vivid clarity under their nonchalant, measured footsteps.
The icy snowbanks of the Krasnyj Nakal gradually lost their rasterized cohesion as the boundary with the next District drew near. In the space of an heartbeat, command lines of geographical data rearranged themselves with mathematical precision; snow-covered trees and soviet symbols morphed into the flowing currents of the River and its majestic, cascading waters.
Madida stared in awed elation at the enchanting tableau, finally murmuring: "Oh Ivan... I had no idea. I't so beautiful and peaceful..."
After an inordinately long pause, ladden with a palpable aura of pent-up desire crackling around them like an electrical discharge, Ivan gently took his partner’s hand and drew her close.
“I think we should continue this conversation in a more secluded place…” he whispered. “What do you think?”
“I thought you’d never ask, Ivan.”
She nimbly took a step back, materialized an indigo-colored magnetic card out of thin air and placed it in his open palm, smiling suavely. The luminescent pink letters printed on one side read: ‘Wild West Motel – Block B, Room 23’.
Ivan stared at the card in bewildered amazement, his heart roaring and pounding madly within his chest like a caged animal. Madida was already ambling southward, down the path leading to the dusty streets of the Wild West District.
She paused, turned sideways and looked at him longingly.
“Well, are you coming?”
Her gaze held the promise of all the world’s pleasures.
THE END
I've been working on this short story for nearly three weeks, whenever I could scrounge enough time to do so. You could say it's a whimsical retelling of my in-game experiences since joining the Club, with a great deal of poetic license.
I took the liberty of casting a few club members in, shall we say, little "cameos" - but don't worry, all names have been changed to preserve everyone's anonymity... this being said, you're welcome to guess who's who!
My sincere apolologies for any forgotten typo, superlative prose, bad translations (I worked with online ressources such as the Wiktionary), and irregular narrative. In my defense, I can only point out my neophyte's status and willingness to improve over time. Feel absolutely free to criticize any or all part of it. Praises won't be turned down either...
So, without further ado...
A NIGHT AT THE VODKA, by IvanXLIV
(text will follow in succeeding posts)
A Night at the Vodka - part I
Ivan was strolling along the snow-covered path, his breath steaming in the cold, crisp air of the Krasnyj Nakal District. The sun was still high in the sky, and the snow-covered boughs of the tall, majestic pines glittered blindingly around him. The rhythmic thudding of the local oil plant added a pleasant shiver to his quickening pace – he was getting closer…
Glancing about, it almost felt as if he was back in his native Siberia… almost. This pixelated facsimile of his homeland did not follow the same natural laws; the cold, for instance, could never cause frostbite or hypothermia, even if one were dressed in the most simple of apparel. Bikini-clad ladies regularly made snow angels around here, electronic snow melting and running along their shapely limbs.
As the winding path turned, he saw at last the large neon letters of the Kabák Vódki humming right ahead. Already a few patrons were stepping into the tall, rounded structure. Built in the retro-soviet style, the bar was becoming a popular gathering place for the denizens of the Land.
Ivan paused on the threshold, staring in the relative darkness ahead of him. The muffled pounding of dance music, mixed with random snatches of conversation, rose toward him like a warm and spicy breeze. His heart was already racing.
I wonder who’ll be in attendance tonight, he mused. Perhaps I’ll see Red Meadhb honce more…
His thoughts trailed off and lead him back to that special evening, so many nights ago, where he had met, talked to, and then made sweet, passionate love to the fiery maiden. It was she who had taken his virtual virginity, peeled away his remaining inhibitions with gentle coaxing, and brought him to the very gates of electronic ecstasy.
Red Meadhbh... As the name rolled silently on his tongue like a bittersweet piece of candy, Ivan pictured with lustful clarity her curvaceous body, the way he had traced the small of her back with a trembling hand, her tousled mane of curly red hair…how they tossed and tumbled, their bodies melding together in orgasmic unison under the purple velvet sheets.
A night at the Vodka - part II
The wooden steps of the corkscrewing staircase wandered down to the main den, where a splash or riotous colors shone about the glazed tiles of the dance floor. A score of partying customers, clustered in small groups, chatted and danced animatedly. Others were relaxing at the bar, propped against the glossy counter with a drink in hand, either silently surveying the whole scene or exchanging almost inaudible words.
Ivan recognized a few familiar faces: Ysatske was attending, and so was the Lord of the Bants himself. Lucia Sugosa stood besides the somber Bors of Gaunnes, and here was Mistress Tamfana, delightfully provocative as ever. Sibiem and Fordel were there too, and Pearl Deszczyk stood out in a ravishing, teal-colored satin gown. He caught a fleeting glimpse of several others known to him, but they were soon lost in the chatting throng.
“Hello Vraven, so you’re the one on duty tonight. Quite a crowd already, isn’t it?”
“Evening, Ivan. I certainly can’t complain. The usual?”
Clad in a dark grey linen shirt and matching fedora, the bartender handed a glass of ruby-hued claret to a waiting lady as he spoke.
“Yes please.”
Vraven acquiesced with a nod, pivoted toward one of the bar’s brass-colored taps, and with a swift and practiced hand filled a heavy stein with stout, dark beer. Setting the cold, foaming beverage down on the polished mahogany counter in front of Ivan, the bartender winked and signaled him to get a bit closer.
“Rumour has it one of the Founders might pay us a visit later”, he whispered with a grin.
“You don’t say? Which one?” Ivan was genuinely intrigued.
“I don’t know for sure, but it could be the Architect himself. Sorry, can’t talk much right now – customers are waiting… we’ll chat latter; perhaps when I go off-duty. Have a nice evening, my friend.”
Ivan nodded and leaned back against the counter, slowing surveying the circular chamber and the human jungle contained therein. The mug felt cool and heavy in his hand. Straining his eyes slightly due to the subdued illumination, he tried to spot the arrival of the fabled programmer, but to no avail. Another figure, however, caught his attention.
A night at the Vodka - part III
Yeoja Hwaga stood by a steel column on the far side of the room, her trim, delicate features sashaying ever so slightly to the ambient sounds. As usual, she was quietly entertaining one of her paramours, a dark and handsome fellow of evident nobility. Presently he must have regaled her with a witty anecdote, for she tossed aside her long, silky black hair to the side, laughing with joyful abandon. Her pearly smile parted the darkness like a stray beam of sunlight piercing a clouded sky.
How quaint to see her here, Ivan reflected; she usually prefers standing outdoors for her nocturnal visits, or have leisurely strolls in quieter places, such as the foot of the waterfalls or down the marbled steps of the museum.
He patiently waited for her to notice his presence. When she eventually did, he nodded a quiet greeting. Yeoja answered her friend with a quick smile before turning back to her companion. I’d better not disturb her, Ivan thought. The two of them are just getting started, and the night is long…
As time passed the dancers got steadily warmed up while a subtle, throbbing quality in the air signaled the flowing exchange of etheric playlists. The ambient lighting, already diffuse, mingled with the reflected patterns of the floor to create a dreamlike reality. At the periphery of this moving sea, darkened booths furnished with plush crimson sofas became islands of sensual privacy for an increasing number of couples.
Ivan, idly sipping his preferred lager, took time to study the latter in detail. At the nearest booth, an elfin woman slowly crept in the lap of her partner, her tiny, perky breasts level with his square chin. The man slid his hands under her skirt, guiding her with slow, measured thrusts. She sighed a low, sustained moan of pleasure, gyrating her hips at an increasing pace.
In the booth next to them, two men were hungrily locking lips, and judging by the occasional tremor from under their table, their hands were busy as well. Further away, a short-haired, dark-skinned girl coyly slid a magnetic card in her lover’s cleavage and moments later, both women dissolved in a cascade of brightly glowing pixels – presumably transported to the former’s hotel room.
Other alcoves across the room were similarly affected, as the ambient mood of barely-suppressed desire reached yet another carnal level. In those dark recesses, searching hands were groping with increasing boldness, mouths kissed and nibbled skin moistily, bodies heaved and breathed with gasps of pleasure. Ivan smiled knowingly. It would seem the natives are indeed restless tonight…
A night at the Vodka - part IV
A slight movement to the left of him brought Ivan out of his reverie. A subtle lavender scent, with a dash of sandalwood, agreeably filled his nostrils. A woman, in all likelihood. He turned nonchalantly toward her, grateful for a chance to chat and trade stories with another patron…
… and just stared at her, transfixed, his heart skipping several beats. The lady – for it was indeed a woman – was incredibly attractive; Ivan distinctly felt his pulse quickening once more, along with the first warm stirrings in his loins indicative of a rising erection. Somewhat self-consciously, he shifted his overall posture to conceal the growing bulge in his pants.
Never had Ivan beheld such a beauty since meeting Samscha the elfmaiden. Tall and lithe as a birch tree, and just as fair, she had sauntered out of the canopied twilight of the Inkeigangu Forest, her silvery white braids glittering in the sunlit morning, tauntingly eager to roleplay their naughty tryst up to its naked, lustful conclusions.
The newcomer was, by contrast, dark haired, with undulating locks the shade of Arabian nights cascading down her slim shoulders, almost reaching to the small of her back. And those eyes… Men afraid of water must have eagerly drowned in their inviting depts. Ochi chornyye, ochi strastnyye, ochi zhguchiye i prekrasnyye… the traditional lyrics flooded Ivan’s mind unbidden.
“Hello. I’m new here… this is quite a fascinating place, isn’t it?” asked the lady demurely.
“It is indeed. And stimulating, too.” Ivan answered affably.
After a short pause, he added: “So are the people who travel to the Land, as you can see…” With a discreet gesture, he pointed to the recessed, shadowed booths and their fornicating occupants.
“Oh my…” The lady grinned, blushing ever so slightly, her breath catching for a brief moment. She drew closer to Ivan, her forearm brushing gently against his. Her exotic perfume was distinctly enticing now, and it made him feel giddy. His erected member was getting painfully hard, too.
“Have you visited the various districts of the Land? Each one is special in its own way, miss…?”
“My name is Madida. No, I haven’t ventured very far…” She was still gazing intently at the nearest alcove, her full, luscious lips slightly parted. Ivan couldn’t help wondering how they would taste and feel. The elfin woman was on all fours on the table now, gripping the edges tightly, her face contorted in the throes of ecstasy; her partner remained seated, anointing her genitals with a probing tongue.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Madida. You can call me Ivan.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Ivan.” She turned back toward him, with a playful shyness that wasn’t feigned. “Please, do tell me everything there is to know about this place…”
… They talked until the small hours of the night, oblivious to the world around them. Their friendly banter grew interspersed with long, meaningful stares and pointedly subtle innuendos.
A night at the Vodka - part V (final)
… After awhile, buoyed by their exquisitely stimulating tête-à-tête, Ivan ventured a bold proposal to his beautiful companion: “Would you accept a formal bond of friendship?”
A few milliseconds later, he felt the etheric connection surge briefly, confirming Madida’s acceptance. Smiling, she entwined her slender arm under his, resting her head on his shoulder contentedly. Her dark, lustrous hair was soft on his chin; the warmth of her perfect body and her slow, steady breathing had a soothing effect on his aroused senses.
“Would you care for a long, quiet walk to the overlook? At this time of night, the cascading waters glitter with motes of reflected starlight… It’s quite a sight, you know.”
“I certainly would. Lead the way”, answered Madida.
Leaving the noise of the Kabák Vódki behind, they stepped into the relative tranquility of the cold, crisp air of the surrounding taiga. The moonlit skies were entirely bereft of clouds, the myriad stars twinkling high above, strewn about the black tapestry of the firmament like so many faceted gemstones. In the surrounding silence, the snow crackled with vivid clarity under their nonchalant, measured footsteps.
The icy snowbanks of the Krasnyj Nakal gradually lost their rasterized cohesion as the boundary with the next District drew near. In the space of an heartbeat, command lines of geographical data rearranged themselves with mathematical precision; snow-covered trees and soviet symbols morphed into the flowing currents of the River and its majestic, cascading waters.
Madida stared in awed elation at the enchanting tableau, finally murmuring: "Oh Ivan... I had no idea. I't so beautiful and peaceful..."
After an inordinately long pause, ladden with a palpable aura of pent-up desire crackling around them like an electrical discharge, Ivan gently took his partner’s hand and drew her close.
“I think we should continue this conversation in a more secluded place…” he whispered. “What do you think?”
“I thought you’d never ask, Ivan.”
She nimbly took a step back, materialized an indigo-colored magnetic card out of thin air and placed it in his open palm, smiling suavely. The luminescent pink letters printed on one side read: ‘Wild West Motel – Block B, Room 23’.
Ivan stared at the card in bewildered amazement, his heart roaring and pounding madly within his chest like a caged animal. Madida was already ambling southward, down the path leading to the dusty streets of the Wild West District.
She paused, turned sideways and looked at him longingly.
“Well, are you coming?”
Her gaze held the promise of all the world’s pleasures.
THE END
"Let my worship be within the heart that rejoiceth, for behold: all acts of love and pleasure are my rituals."
- The Goddess -
- The Goddess -
![[Image: SzHsWmI.gif]](http://i.imgur.com/SzHsWmI.gif)
![[Image: xpXEtwW.gif?noredirect]](https://i.imgur.com/xpXEtwW.gif?noredirect)
