Saturday, January 27, 2007

I'm 21, old enough to own my own cybergirl, so I went to the emporium to acquaint myself with the Spring collection. They stood arrayed, those electronic marvels, on polyester pedestals. Each one was full of attitude, posturing herself to potential customers, as if to say to each "Of course you want to buy me, but who says I want you?" I walked back and forth, standing once before each of them to bask in the electronic fields that emanated from high voltage hearts - I'm a sucker for cyber auras.

Zera X was the one who tingled best. I admired her shiny white limbs and imagined the surfaces hidden beneath the designer coverings. She wanted me, too. I could tell. Those hybrid machines had a way of planting subliminal attraction in the customer, if he was the one they wanted. And I knew that I was the one.

"So, you've bonded with one of our models," the salesman ventured enthusiastically. His inviting smile caused all misgivings or doubts about man-machine morality to evaporate, like an electrostatic discharge vanishes into nothing.

"Yes, with Zera. Zera X," I answered, as self-confidently as a guy might say "I do" before the justice of the peace.

"Then she's yours," he told me, "I'll just have to work out the final price." His agile fingers pushed a long series of buttons on the store register, a little more than made me comfortable, but then he looked up and named the amount, "Fifteen thousand nine hundred and sixty-nine credits. Do you have it?"

"Yes, I do," I said, though not with complete enthusiasm. It would take my entire savings. Somehow these purchases always did.

The salesman noticed my unease and reassured me, "It may seem like much now, but remember, you're acquiring a companion for life. For eternity, if you will. Think of her as an investment!"

The static tingling that originated from Zera and ended in a pleasurable center of my brain continued. There was really no need for the reassurance. I knew what I wanted. I wanted Zera.

"Done!" I said.

After that, my "march down the aisle" went very fast. Two muscled delivery clerks came to us from behind the backroom curtains where they usually waited unobserved for the event of a sale. They strolled over, zapped me with what looked like a cattle prod, resulting in my complete and total paralysis. Then they picked me up, carried my rigid form over to Zera, and finally, as gently as the ring slides onto a bride's finger, they balanced me onto the pedestal right by her side.

Story #387

Sorry for such a late post! Thanks everyone of you who took the time to contribute. That goes double for multiple personalities!

Thanks to everyone who contributed stories last time: My muse, Doug, Mushroom, Al who is at a disadvantage in this list because his name is very short and hard to click, Cheesemaster, multi-lingual Frances Bo Bances, Lammy, Mrs. Weirsdo, and Tom & Icy.

Cooper, Jamie and {illyria} did not write stories, but made my day with their comments.

Feb. 3rd: Damn! I'm having trouble keeping up with everything these days. My story will be posted soon - just can't say when.


Lammy said...

Ultimate Modern Mel strutted on the stage of the Happy Wiener, a popular gay night club, with the mime, Guy Debby the Ding Dong Girl, amidst the flashing mustard laser lights while the band played Aud Lang Syne even though it was in September. Mel was considered a psychic who would pantomime forthcoming events onstage as the audiance shouted wild guesses of the meanings of his presage gestures. He was considered a man ahead of his time.

As the band emulated the midnight chimes of a clock, Mel ravishly kissed Guy Debby causing the crowd to reach a frenzied excitement of embracing and caressing and kissing to celebrate a year yet to come. But all went black. Darkness gripped the crowd that fell suddenly silent as all that could be seen were the two ghostly white faces of the mimes with visages of horror and shock, eyes and mouth opened wide.

The white faces dimmed and faded into the ocean of darkness. Screams from the crowd echoed through the thick blackness. There was stomping of scampering feet from a sightless stampeed.

The lights slowly returned sight like fans blowing away thick smoke and the crowd again stood in silence. The mimes were bouncing around on the stage as if they were laughing hysterically and soon the crowd joined in and the sounds of laughter filled the room.

Tom & Icy said...

The vampire model, Darula, was the hit of the undead style show with her contrasting black and white outfit emphasizing the theme of enlightenment in the darkness. The sheer lace neck scarf hides the fang wounds while the button charm necklace holds one button from the clothing of each new victim. The suede helmet cap neatly holds the hair from falling in the way during the hightened frenzie and excitement of the sensuous wrestling and oral phlebotomy to facilitate the transfusion of energy sustaining hemoglobin. The yellow sunflower symbolizes the infusion of life sustaining light into the undeadness and its conversion to darkness.

Darula defended her style from critics that declared "Goth is dead" by saying, "Goth is undead!"

Dusty Doggy said...

Petulabrose stood and declared "I am a blogaholic." as her colorless, sun-deprived face resembled the contenence of her everlasting gaze at the dim screen throughout all hours of the day and night. She admitted knowing it only took twelve steps from the computer to the front door, but whined that there was something hypnotic about the computer and some compelling drive to write comments on Doug's Waking Ambrose blog. She pleaded for help from Blogaholics Annonomys to help her once again see the light of day.

The Alien Guy said...

The boy from S.A.C.A.D.A. dug deep in his pockets and counted his coins as he ran toward the jingling tune coming from the ice cream truck. He studied the small frozen statuettes made of vanilla with coatings of chocolate for their hat, scarf, dress and boots. He slapped the coins onto the window counter of the truck as he gripped the flat stick that was rammed up the frozen girl's arse. He first bit off the head, then the boots and worked his way slowly toward the middle which he considered the best part.

Dog Face Girl said...

The once colorful Pansi has lost her hue from dwelling in the shadows of the Netherworld. Her once agile body, is now ossified and stiff from being annealed by the starvation of life among her new undead neighbors. Most believe it is only a temporary reaction to the sudden change of environment as well as the depressing trip wrapped in a box and being bounced around in a package delivery truck. With the love of her friends she is recovering and soon will regain her chroma and flex.

Indeterminacy said...

I'm still wondering what to write and you guys are running circles around my "creativity" - I'm afraid to read the stories yet or I'll really get writer's block.

Hashish Henry said...

Michelangelo borrowed an invention from his pal, Leonardo, a time machine that brought him 500 years to this year of 2007. While he was here, he studied the culture and then carved from stone what he thought would be his greatest masterpiece, which he called the future of womankind. Unfortunately, the people of these modern days did not recognize him nor his genius and only considered his statue mediocre saying it just looked like any ole mannequin. Broken hearted, he returned to his own time where he was appreciated by his contemperaries and went on to carve the statue of David.

Whispering Fairy said...

Indie was awakened by sounds of ghosts rummaging through his myriad of old LP record albums. Inquiring as to the object of their search, a girl ghost with pale ectoplasmic skin softly requested that he play the old music that is now stored in dusty mausoleum-like shelves, so as to resurrect the souls of almost forgotten artists. As he played the music, the songs likewise stirred his youthful spirit and creativity and intensified and iterated his enthusiasm for writing and creating.

Lula said...

God sent forth his angels to once again seek the righteous of the world, yet this was even more challenging in modern times than it had ever been in days of yore. The few were led to the etherical bridge that would lead them away from the wicked earth to a place of purity and kindness with love for all fellow creatures. They were told not to look back at the wickedness they were retreating from nor to see it's ultimate destruction. Yet Lot's wife couldn't resist one last peek and peered back into the face of the atrocious legacy of mankind. She was immediately turned into salt, her skin shining bright white and reflecting the flames that consumed the evil.

Cheesemeister said...

"Oh shit," said Medusa. "That blasted Agamemnon tricked me into looking into a mirror and now here I am, a department store dummy!"

Cheesemeister said...

As you can see, Lammy et al have run circles around me as well!

Cocaine Jesus said...

they floated in. satin and silk on milky sex legs. a froth of sensuallity and a buzz of vibrant sexuality.
electric eyes blazed static and flash light popped to the tune of a fujiya and miyagi song. throbbing like eloctrodes with their thighs sighing a creamed flesh strut.
pulses raced and erections grew hard in the sodium glare of the cat walks eye.
they were the dash of future with the winged flash of angels past. a jg ballard short story that spoke of cocaine and sleaze.
no sooner had they exploded onto the face of the world with a sharp slap and they were gone.
vapour trails that fled the blue sky.

weirsdo said...

Tom and his friends have really gone to town.

These figures remind me of a movie, "The Perfect Crime," I saw the other night. In it a woman disguises a dead person as a ski-clothed mannequin to hide the body. . . .

Anonymous said...


"MOM! I'm here can't you see me, can't you hear me?"

"mom I'm standing by the window.. I can't move!! The last thing I remember is wishing to be emotionless...I was so tired of hurting. Why did he have to leave mom.. why!?"


"Oh mom, even now I want you to hear me, why can't you hear me...."

"I remember once.. grandma told me never to wish to not feel. She said it would turn me into something no one could ever see. I guess because everyone feels right mom? So if you don't feel.. then you can't exist? Maybe thats it! I went to the land of the mannequin-people!"



The head rolled into a hole and was never seen again.

(haha no time for a different ending.. I have to rush.)

you're still great at the story thing indie, keep it up! The stories make my day!

Doug said...

The Ladies' European American Football league was the first to award bonus points for plumage.

cooper said...

Mannequins always give me a feeling or horror or mystery. Usually murder comes to mind.

Interesting ideas from all, I would not have been able to make a light post from this picture.

Indeterminacy said...

You dear people are so fantastic! I finished my story at last, and allowed myself to enjoy the amazing stories posted here. It's enough to fill a small book!

Tom&Ivy, et al, Cheesemesiter, Doug, Mrs. Weirsdo, Cocaine Jesus and Colored Clouds! Thank you very much for taking time to share your inspirations. I loved everything I read here, especially the ice cream.

Cocain J: You are as poetic as always.

Colored Clouds: Your story was great and so was the ending!

Cooper: this also reminds me of my favorite Twilight Zone episode, The After Hours, with the mannequins. There's something about mannequins.