Erf. In a heavy cyberpunk mood now. Watching tons of films and sketching up Keif. May change his name to something more cyber…ish. :p
The New Tenant
The penthouse windows peered out over the smog of the city. It sat nestled above the clouds like Olympus, distant and detached from the filth and squalor of the streets below. Even if the yellow-orange miasma had not blotted out the blighted metropolis blow, the suite sat so high above it all that it was only visible as little spots of twinkling light in the shadow of the great towers.
Keif’s chin rested on his sharp knees, thighs pressed against his chest as he leaned against the reflective glass of the apartment’s great windows, his breath against the surface fogging over the cityscape beneath him. It was quite a view and the youth felt a twinge of vertigo. His skin prickled as he felt the rush of air from the suite’s vents, the air purifiers filling the room with the sweet scent of perfume and incense.
The flat was exquisitely furnished with antique furniture made of real wood. It felt so strange and foreign beneath Keif’s fingers. Something about knowing it was not synthetic altered the boy’s perception of it, made him feel a strange awe to sit upon something so foreign.
There has been an outcry for details of my weekend. I am not one to kiss and tell, especially with regard to this individual and how i feel. My life is not pornography. :p
Suffice to say, there was a posh dinner, opera, and I’m a little twitterpated.
A Desk Job - Chapter 2, Part 2
There was no real way to explain things to Mom. It made him blush to think about it, let alone say it. The tall, suited man eyeing him like a piece of meat. The abrupt way in which he told Fenton to undress, to bare all to a perfect stranger.
Fenton didn’t even get down to more than his boxers and an undershirt for gym at school. His mom hadn’t seen him naked since the days in which he tied a blanket around his neck and marched around the neighborhood as the 5-year-old king of everything. It wasn’t that he was unpleasant to look at. It just made him turn red from his ears to his shoulders with shame.
So Fenton quietly climbed the stairs after making some half-assed story about the office really being interested in a girl for the position. That got Mom fuming a lot more than he wanted. The interview would come up again, he knew it.
In his room he shed all of his interview attire, trying to take off the dirty feeling with it. The fact that he was now naked was not lost on him. But he felt a little better and the youth settled down in front of his computer to while away the evening, trying to void his mind the best way he knew how.
Porn.
A Desk Job - Chapter 2, Part 1
His legs were still quaking when he closed the door to his house a bus-ride later. Fenton leaned against his, breathing heavily. Sweat had soaked through his shirt and vest, his lower lips quivered nervously.
“Fent? Is that you?” Mom called from somewhere deeper in the house. “How did the interview go? Dad wanted me to call as soon as you got back.”
Was this serious? What the hell went on in that office? Did he mistakenly apply for a meetup or something equally unseemly? Artists were weird, he knew that much, but Fenton expected some propriety.
He had is dignity after all. There would be other jobs. He could do better.
Fenton tried to convince himself of those words, pressed against the door. He tried to ignore the fact that this was the first interview he’d received in almost four months of searching since graduation. Desperation was not a word he wanted to contemplate.
“I… I don’t think I was a good fit for the job.” He shouted back to Mom finally. Sluggishly he worked at the knot of his bow tie and started to undo his shirt, pulling the fabric from his sweat slicked skin.
There would be other jobs, he said to his bare stomach.
I just completed an amazing week of kink, romance, and dorkiness. And now I’m going to run it in your collective faces. Sorry, internet folk, you took second place to something very magical. Like a fairy tail or something equally impossible. My days of posting and writing kink are numbered…
I can’t believe how happy these last few days has left me.
/mush
I may have watched the Bad Little Boy episode of Adventure Time last night. Got me wanting to draw Marshall Lee as a realish person. He’s an awesome character.
In fact, all the characters in Fionna and Cake are better than the original cast. There, I said it. :p
At least he confesses to being a villain, like me.
Valentines Day Candy
This did not seem like a usual delivery. To Devlin this almost felt like a strip-o-gram, far outside any of the weird he’d done before. Granted he didn't really mind showing off his body a little: soccer kept him lean. Since his Valentines Day deliveries were always to middle-aged, sex-starved women he knew a little skin would ensure a big tip.
Devlin worked for a local confectionery shop as a delivery boy. It was not a full-time position but it was something he could do most days after school. The shop was a mom-and-pop affair called Sweet Salvation, originally run by a nice older couple who had since given up control of the day-to-day affairs to their son Bowen two months ago.
Devlin’s ass squeaked in the red pvc shorts as he accelerated from a dead stop at a stop sign. Really they weren't shorts, more an amalgamation of straps and buckles with a well placed cod piece. His top was similarly revealing, equating to a bolero that left his midriff completely exposed. And then there were the stockings and full length gloves - lacy and white. Makeup and a bow.
What the hell.
A Desk Job - Chapter 1, Part 5
Obviously Fenton did not hear what he thought he’d just heard. Though, try as he might, he could not come up with any other phrase that he might have misheard.
“I… beg your pardon?” He gulped. Unconsciously he cupped his hands in front of his crotch as though to cover himself.
“Your clothes. Take them off.” The words were slow and deliberately spoken. The man’s face betrayed no emotion. He spoke matter-of-factually, as though talking to a young child.
Fenton took a step away, edging towards the door. “I think there has been some kind of mistake. I was looking … er … applying for the front desk position.”
“Indeed. And a front desk needs to meet certain physical standards.”
“I don’t understand.” Another step towards the door.
“Obviously. You are the desk. Furniture. In return, $60,000 a year, benefits, insurance, vacation, and other perks. Our offices are private and I have … certain proclivities that I enjoy.”
A knot formed in Fenton’s throat. This was nonsense! Who’d ever heard of a person as furniture? Was this really a design office or some kind of sick sex parlor?
The man smiled as Fenton’s obvious confusion played out across his face.
“I … there … this is not what I thought I was interviewing for. I’m so sorry. Please excuse me.”
The youth turned and fled the building, his legs shaking and barely able to carry him home.
A Desk Job - Chapter 1, Part 4
This man was stiff and impersonal, it kept Fenton’s nerves at an all time high. He had not even been asked any difficult questions yet and this was already proving to be the toughest interview.
Was he in good shape? Fenton squirmed at the question, his hands visibly playing with the hem of his vest. What did that have to do with anything? It was a desk job, not lifting freight, right?
“I … don’t really do sports or anything like that.” The boy started. Shit. Wrong answer. Have to come up with something better. “But… I try to stay active..”
It wasn’t necessarily true. Fenton took the stairs when he could, but that was the extent of his workout. He was lean with youth but still possessed a little tummy pudge from hours of Reddit, TV, and xBox.
The man paced around him like a stalking predator, his eyes making Fenton flush with embarrassment and nerves. When did the real interview questions start? Why was he feeling like a slab of meat right now?
“Strip down.”
