The Masquerade Shoppe

From Torg Adventure

Evil lieutenant - sadistic Domme, tries to dominate MC, peg him, but MC resists and turns the tables.

Prisoner - Princess Pauline, beautiful damsel

Scientist - geeky, chick. MC seduces her to get out of Mind Control ray.

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NaNoWriLess STORY: Masquerade


Masquerade by Brett Slocum Copyright 2011 by Brett Slocum, brett.slocum@gmail.com


My best friend, Victor, had the best Halloween party every year. Amazing food, plenty of drink, and a wide variety of gorgeous women. Victor always knew the sexiest single women in the city, it seemed. I was looking for a costume for Friday's party. All the ones I could make at home were lame and, besides, I'd done them before. I wanted something new and hunky, so maybe one of those women might notice me and get interested, and maybe I might get laid. I'd been fallow for far too long. My work as a pantry chef at the swanky downtown restaurant was exciting and wonderful, but also hectic and tiring. The long hours of making salads and appetizers had taken their toll on my sex life.

I was headed toward the big costume rental shop when I saw a new shop just four blocks from my house. I could have sworn it wasn't there last week. It was in a building that had been a big coffeehouse until the recession forced it to close. The space had been empty for a year.

I stopped because of the sandwich board sign in front -- "Madame Vivante's Costumery - Make Your Fantasy Come True". I parked and walked in.

The door jingled as I entered. The place was huge and filled with racks of clothes. A woman stood just inside the door behind the front counter. This could only be Madame Vivante. She was an older woman dressed in clothes more suited to the Sixties than the new millennium -- a flower pattern gauzy blouse and a green skirt. She was short and featurelessly round.

"Welcome to my shop," she said with a thick French accent. "I have many coztumes zat will make your fantazies come true. Just browse around, and zere are changing rooms in ze back." She vaguely pointed toward the back of the shop. She then returned to her seat behind the counter and read her French fashion magazine.

I strolled through the shop and found many costumes. I thought about the party and who might be coming. I wanted something interesting and sexy. I found superhero costumes, horror movie costumes, politicians, celebrities, hillbillies, and many more.

A splash of red and a weird-looking pistol attracted my attention. When I pulled the costume off the rack, I saw that it was straight out of the old black-and-white Flash Gordon serials my grandfather watched with me as a kid. It was a metallic red shirt with gold ringed epaulettes, red pants with gold piping down the seam, a black belt with holster for the ray gun, and black boots. To complete the costume, it had a round plastic bubble for a space helmet. An insignia on the chest had a retro-looking rocket that looked a lot like a Nazi V-2 flying in front of a sun with sunbeams shooting out of it. Below the insignia, the words 'Star Patrol' were embroidered.

The material of the costume was very thin with slight padding to add the appearance of muscles, and I suspected that it would fit tightly. No one would come in anything like this, and the skin-tightness and the added muscles would surely get some women looking my way. I found the changing room in the back of the store.

I was right about it being tight. I had some trouble getting it on, but, once everything was in place, it felt great, almost like it was custom fit to my body. I sat on the bench and yanked the boots on, popped the helmet over my head and clamped it to the uniform shirt, and I drew the blast pistol. I could tell I looked good. Damn! The changing room had no mirror. I stepped out the door to ask Madame Vivante where to find one.


Instead of the store, I found myself in a bright landscape of blue bushes and what looks like orange grass. Everything looked alien, including the reddish sky with an orange sun and two moons -- one moldy green and the other pale yellow. Just ahead of me, the grass and bushes gave way to a stony terrain pockmarked with small craters. As a kid, I had gone to Craters of the Moon National Monument in Idaho, and this looked way too much like that. My mind flip-flopped, trying to put blue sky and green grass into the scene.

I also felt different. I looked at the costume. Something was strange. I felt the fabric, and it was no longer padded. And my chest sported thicker muscles. The ray gun at my belt felt heavier, no longer plastic. I pulled it out and hefted it. It looked real.

Inside the helmet, a crackle of radio static interrupted my observations. A distinctly female voice said, "Captain, the atmosphere is Type A3 -- breathable with harmless trace elements and a tolerable amount of dust. You may remove your helmet without injury."

I turned around and saw what must have been the source of the transmission. The woman standing behind me had distinctly silver skin, and a lot of it was showing. Her uniform was designed to cover as little as possible – the top was a tight band of silvery fabric over her full breasts. A matching pair of shorts that looked painted on completed the outfit.

'Woman' was perhaps a misnomer, because in addition to the metallic skin, she had no belly button, her eyes were jet black with no irises, and she had no hair on her body, at least not where I could see. In the 'metal' of her right shoulder, were inscribed the characters, 'J-9'. I thought she was more of a robot or android than a human. Like a memory, the term 'fembot' popped into my head unbidden. But everything else about this creature screamed 'female' -- her curvy figure and large breasts, her gorgeous face and full, pouty silver lips, her narrow waist, flaring hips, and mile-long legs. She didn't seem mechanical -- her joints appeared to look and work like human joints, and there was no hum or clank of machinery. I wondered what she kept under the skimpy uniform, and if she had working parts.

Then my mind shuddered to a halt. What had happened? Where was I? Where was Madame Vivante? Where was the costume shop? I started to panic, thinking I was hallucinating or schizophrenic. This fembot was clearly not Madame Vivante in disguise. She was too tall and voluptuous. Madame Vivante was a ball of flesh. What could I do? Is this what a nervous breakdown feels like? I settled on this being a product of too much work. Maybe I just flipped out. I decided the best course of action was to play along. Maybe my mind would sort things out, and I'd find myself back in the costume shop, or perhaps my bed. That's it, it's a dream of my work-addled brain. So, act like I know what's going on.

I operated the clamps on the helmet a little clumsily, though, this time, the whoosh of pressurized air proved there was some differential inside and outside. I realized there were now straps that held the helmet behind my head, ready to be put back on at a moment's notice.

The fembot spoke with her mouth this time, saying, "Are you feeling nominal, Captain? I sense that your cardiac rate and blood pressure are elevated. Are you are in a state of anxiety?"

"I'm fine," I said, trying to relax from the strange situation. "Where are we?"

"Longitude thirty-five-point-seven degrees, latitude one-hundred-forty-two-point-two degrees. On a bearing of thirty-two-point-eight degrees from planetary magnetic north, we should reach mission target area in zero-point-eight-four kilometers," she replied smoothly, straightening up some.

Ask a silly question, I thought with a mental shrug. Okay, maybe I need to be more specific with her.

"Which planet?"

"Casi Four of the Jesra cluster," she added, "but you are aware of this fact already. Is this a test?"

"Yes," I quickly stated. "I was testing you." Can't have the fembot thinking I'm not who she thinks I am.

"Ah, very well. I presume you want to hear the mission overview again also?" she asked.

"Go ahead."

"I assure you that my memory banks are fully functional. Our mission is to infiltrate Admiral Xing's secret base and free the Alliance prisoners. Alliance spies have died to transmit information about the Admiral's new mind control device. Our mission includes orders to destroy this mind control device, if we find it." The fembot couldn't show emotion, but J-9 seemed annoyed. Then I wondered where that information came from. I dismissed the thought.

"Okay, you are correct. Your memory banks are functioning perfectly. Let move." I gazed ahead and saw a glow on the horizon. I trotted toward it, avoiding the rocky footing. It was a rather long distance to the next piece of bizarre jungle. This was the coolest dream I'd ever had before. Then I remembered that I wasn't asleep.

The vegetation got thicker as I neared the base. I reviewed everything I could from Grandpa's reruns of Buck Rogers and those old Flash Gordon serials. I chuckled as the appearance of the fembot reminded me of that weekend Victor rented Flesh Gordon and Barbarella. Maybe if I just played along, I could have some fun and get out of this alive. The hero always triumphed in the end in those old serials. Oh, and got the girl. I wondered if I got the fembot or some beautiful princess.

"I detect a force field and guards ahead," J-9 stated at a low volume. It's not like she whispered, just lowered the volume of her voice. "How will we lower the shield?"

"Can you detect the field generator?" I asked.

"Seventeen-point-six degrees to starboard." She pointed to my right. "There are two lifeforms near it. I detect the energy signatures of two blast rifles."

"Thank you, J-9."

"You do not need to thank me, Captain. It is my purpose to serve you, and I am a fembot. I do not require social pleasantries."

"I'll try to remember that, J-9, but remember that I am human, and social pleasantries are part of my programming." I was feeling good about the witty repartee.

"I will remember, of course. We have already tested my memory banks." Now she definitely sounded annoyed.

I moved in the direction she indicated, wary of the guards ahead. The vegetation was now thick enough to give us good cover. We came to a clearing and remained in the brush. Ahead I saw two guards in outlandish uniforms with ringed epaulettes and helmets with a fin down the middle. They held rifles that looked like they were made with vacuum tubes and compact fluorescent light bulbs. They stood in front of a large gray box with lots of blinking lights and antennae. I drew my ray gun from my belt.

Right at my ear I heard the very quiet voice of J-9 saying, "You can only shoot one guard. The other will shoot back, causing lots of noise. How shall we neutralize them both at the same time?"

"You don't have a ray gun?" I whispered. I remembered that her outfit didn't leave any room for hiding a ray gun.

"No, Captain. You know that the Star Patrol doesn't allow bots to use energy weapons. You are testing me often today."

"Can you sneak around behind the guard on the right and neutralize him? I'll take the one on the left."

"Yes, Sir. That is within my programming."

"Okay, when you are ready, give me a sign and we will coordinate our attack."

"Yes, Sir." I turned and saw her silver body slip into the undergrowth. Her backside was as beautiful as her front. Her ass in those tight shorts was flawless. I turned back to the guards.

In a half minute, I saw J-9's face in the leaves behind the guard on the right. I nodded to her, and she returned the nod. I took aim at the left guard. I saw her body emerge from the jungle, and she threw a flying karate kick at the head of the guard. I shot the other guard just as her foot connected. The ray gun emitted a light crack as a beam of purplish light lanced out to the other guard. It struck him in the chest. He began to cry out, but his outburst was cut short by the smoking hole that appeared in the middle of his chest. I hoped his shout wasn't loud enough to be heard.

I rushed up to the force field generator. A Jacob's Ladder of arcing electricity in the antenna seemed to be creating the field.

"J-9, if I shoot that antenna, will it destroy the force field."

"Yes, Captain, but it will also cause the generator to explode, warning the base of our presence. Perhaps if we turn off the switch?" She pointed at a large lever in the side of the gray box. The words 'Force Field On' and 'Force Field Off' were stenciled at the top and bottom of the lever. The lever was in the upper position. Of course, in the serials, everything was set up to help the hero. I pushed the lever down, the blinking lights all ceased, and the sparks in the Jacob's Ladder stopped as well.

The two of us dashed toward the base through the thick undergrowth.

We came to the edge of the clearing surrounding a large bulbous gray and black building. Rounded towers, minarets, onion domes, bay windows, and outcroppings of unknown purpose covered the surface of the base. Two guards stood in front of a fortified door.

"Well, from this range, we can't sneak up on them, so I'll just have to shoot them both and hope no one observes," I said quietly.

J-9 said, "I can project a directional sonic blast that will stun them. It's beyond the range of human hearing, so it won't alert the rest of the guards. That might be more effective."

"Great, J-9! That sounds better than shooting them. But why didn’t you suggest that at the field generator?" I asked.

"The sonic blast would have triggered a cascading power cycle that would have caused the generator to explode," she replied.

"Okay. Proceed."

J-9 formed her mouth into an 'O'. I thought that would be the perfect shape for a much more pleasant activity. Then I shook my head to dispel the prurient imagery.

She faced the two guards by the door. I heard a gnat buzzing by my ear and the two guards fell to the ground. J-9 and I ran for the door.

I grabbed keys off the guard dressed in a fancier uniform, probably the officer. J-9 dragged the other body out from the open. I quickly unlocked the door, and J-9 dragged the guard inside. She did so effortlessly. I pulled the other guard through, feeling the increased strength of my muscles. This really was a great dream. Inside, I found a weapons closet. I quickly stripped off the officer's uniform, the closest to my size. I found handcuffs and gags in the closet as well, so I used them on the guards. I kept my ray gun.

"I'm disguised, but we can't put you in a uniform," I said.

"I detect the positron emissions from other fembots in this facility, so I will be able to blend in, Captain," the fembot said.

"Good, let's find those prisoners and the mind control device, J-9!" I headed down a corridor into the enemy base. The passage ended at a stairway going both up and down.

"J-9, analysis, please," I said, not knowing which way to go.

"After analyzing all of our encounters with the Emperor, I calculate a 72 percent probability that the cell block is underground and an 87 percent probability that the mind control device is in Xing's command center. There is a 59 percent chance that the command center is at the top of the fortress," J-9 explained.

"I think we need to destroy that mind control machine first, J-9, so let's head upstairs first." I was really getting into my role. They should totally make this into a movie.

As we headed upstairs, we passed other guards and officers on the stairs. We passed a malebot and fembot pair. I observed something interesting when the malebot passed J-9: his head didn't move, but his eyes followed her. I couldn't see her eyes, but guessed they did the same. We got to the top of the stairway, after three more levels. A hallway went left and right from the top of the stairs.

I picked left on instinct, J-9 followed. I could feel the hum of the building in my bones.


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