Monday, September 27, 2010

AWHB Stories: A Fine Bubbly

Finally, I've managed to turn my fanfic-debilitating MMO addiction into, well, fanfic! (On a personal note, I don't think I've had this much fun with shortfic in ever.)

A Fine Bubbly
An adult Phantasy Star Universe/Portable fanfic by /m/’s Haken Browning

    The residential block of Clad 6 was silent save for the clatter of designer heels against tile. Chelsea savored this somewhat as she made her way to her apartment, a bottle of champagne cradled in her arms and held seductively close to her unreal-even-by-Cast-standards chest.
    Not that anyone was awake to appreciate the sight, mind. Even with traffic going in and out of the colony 24/7, this area always managed to be quiet around the vicinity of 4:00 AM of whichever planet’s time any particular occupant was synchronized to.
    It is thus that Chelsea sighed as she ambled into her room at approximately 3:58 Parum Time, immediately nestling on her bed in preparation for her daily 40-minute maintenance period. “Ahhh…ze new day…she will be upon us soon, non?” She whispered to the bottle of wine in her arms.
    It obviously didn’t respond. Neudaizian wines weren’t exactly known conversationalists, not even the ‘608 Briand-al-Saguraki the Cast had just acquired to celebrate the three-month anniversary of her new pub’s opening.
    “…Ze strong, silent type.” She smirked. “I know your kind. Rough around ze edges, but only to hide ze soft, gentle heart, yes?” As if expecting a response, she rotated the bottle such that the neck was poised to intrude upon her ample cleavage. “Ah, but le Coeur, she is not a thing to be feared. You can tell me. It is what I am here for, non?”
    The bottleneck squeezed – rather, WAS squeezed – between Chelsea’s breasts. “Mmmm…such firmness…oui oui, you will be SUCH a satisfying nut to crack…” The cut of her dress made the fact that she was still wearing it more or less irrelevant, so the Cast proceeded to bob the bottle up and down, licking lasciviously at the gold wrapper around the cork as it neared her mouth.
    “Aha…your taste, she is that of ze seasoned lover. Je amour.” One hand continued rocking the champagne as the other slipped beneath the folds of her dress, meticulously peeling a thong back between her legs. “It is time. Dance with me, si vous plait?”
    It didn’t answer, of course, being a bottle of wine. So Chelsea answered for it, withdrawing the bottle from her cleavage and seductively peeling away the wrapper. “Your form is impeccable. Our dance, it will be magnifique.”
    One last seductive lick at the cork before she positioned the bottle between her legs. “Do not worry about being gentle…It will be better for us if I accept you as you are, non?” With a faint grunt, the cheery Cast made with said acceptance, letting the three and a half inches of bottleneck slip into her vagina.
    It was, of course, a wondrous sensation, the female organ having been calibrated at an expense most female Casts would never bother incurring. Chelsea, however, was a more adventurous sort – and one well-versed in how to be personable. That meant being equipped with everything necessary to experience the full range of humanoid emotion – lust included.
    And so the bottle of champagne continued to be thrust into what would serve as Chelsea’s birth canal were she not an android. (Some corners HAD to be cut for practicality’s sake, after all.) As with most such insertions, however, the woman found herself wanting more.
    “Mmmm, lover…you’ve grown so big…” Slowly, Chelsea wriggled and stretched her folds, trying to slip more of the bottle inside despite its girth almost quadrupling past the neck. A gasp escaped her lips as her hips widened just enough to allow another fourth of the bottle inside her.
    “Ohhh…my sweet…you are truly an exceptional lover!” The Cast’s eyes were starting to roll back as more and more of her insides were intruded upon by the plexiglass paramour, her hands pressing at its base as five, then six inches made their way into her abdomen. “Le piece de resistance…it is coming!”
    A faint pop emanated from Chelsea’s core as the cork was caught by her faux-cervix.
    She twisted.
    Her throat let out an orgasmic yelp as the bubbly was released from its prison, gushing against her vaginal walls. Her arms struggled to hold the bottle inside as it tried to rocket out, merely releasing more and more liquor into the fleshy cavity. And of course, the Cast was too soundly racked by pleasure to care that the excess was dripping from her folds, leaking all over her bedsheets. (A quick burn of a Remodeling Ticket would fix that, right? She was in an “Eastern Dark” mood this month, anyway.)
    After some time, the bottle was finally withdrawn. The blissful look on Chelsea’s face contorted into a frown as she gazed upon the bottle, now one-third full. “Ugh…such is ze paradox of men. Such exceptional performance…but only once.” And then it brightened right back up as she kissed the label. “…But even once is wonder enough, non? Go now, and carry that memory with you for the rest of your days.”
    She guzzled the remainder before setting the bottle on her end table, shutting her eyes as her maintenance period proper began.


[OMAKE A – White Wine Side]

    Chelsea was jostled out of her recalibrating slumber by the click of her door opening. “An intruder? …Oh, it is just you, Madame Boss.”
    Ursula Laurent kicked the door shut behind her. “I could smell the wine from across the hall. You know it’s a bad idea to drink this late, even if it’s right before your shutdown.”
    “Why, ‘Sula, I didn’t know you were awake to care…but of course, I can tell you are just jealous I had that vintage all to myself, yes?”
    “You damn right.” The Newman withdrew a bottle of ‘625 Raffon Cherise from her jacket before tossing it and her corset aside. “Got time for another tasting before work?”
    “…Always, ‘Sula.” She craned her neck to accept the impending kiss from ‘Madame Boss’, noting the way Ursula savored the taste of champagne on her breath before the two tumbled back onto the bed.

[OMAKE B – Red Wine Side]

    “Hey, Chelsea.” It was the following morning at Little Wing, and for some odd reason, Kraz Muehler had decided to address the Cast instead of spending the hours before lunch juggling reports and bikini image sets.
    “Pardon, Monsieur Boss?”
    “Ursula and I’ve been talking, and with you taking on this second job…we think it’d be a good idea to balance out your intake. Get a little red wine in your system, y’know?”
    “Oh? And what brings you such an epiphany?”
    “Oh, nothing, really. Just something I stumbled upon last time I tagged along with [insert Player Character’s name here].” He withdrew a red minibottle with a jagged “G” emblazoned on the label. “I dunno the first thing about wine, and even I can tell this is a luxurious vintage.”
    “How so, Monsieur Boss?”
    “Because the first time I picked it up, THIS happened.” Suddenly, Kraz’s Blast Gauge shot to full power as the bottle was thrust into the sommelier’s corkscrew that appeared on his belt. “Henshin.”
    Kraz was docked two weeks’ pay that day for an unauthorized Nanoblast into “Goro Val” (or what Earthlings might call “Kamen Rider G”), seeing as how the burst of energy carved a G-shaped hole into the window behind him – not exactly something you want to do within the confines of a space station.

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