dinamizmus1000

I feel synth-cotton resting on my body, shifting as my chest moves up and down with every breath. I feel expensive leather brush against my skin as my hand twitches. I smell the subtle sour tinge of real cigar smoke, just a hint. I smell the almost unnoticeable fragrance of a luxury car’s scented air filter. Like the one in that Delamain cab that night. I hear someone taking a quiet drag from a cigar, puffing the smoke out with the same motion, an experienced smoker. I hear the sounds of a city street stream in through a narrow hole. Kabuki. I see, first an utterly blinding light, then it clears and the details of the sunroof I was staring through comes into focus. No wonder I was blinded by the light, the sun, peeking through the thick, grey clouds, is perfectly framed by the window. Like some fresh cyberware, or an old computer, my body turns on. I push against the car seat with my elbows and sit up straight. Like a freshly melted glacier, my head turns. Next to me, in the back

It feels so grey. I don’t see anything, yet it’s not dark at all. It feels like when the sun shines on your eyelids, but it’s all the same color. I almost want to close my eyes, but I can’t. Feels like I don’t have eyelids to close, or eyes, even. In fact, I don’t feel like I have anything. No face, no head no hands, arms, legs, feet, anything. I don’t feel anything, none of my nerves are shooting at all. I try to move a finger, but I don’t have any. I try to look around, but without eyes, nothing happens. Not like there’s anything to see. From what I can tell, everything is just a matte grey. It feels incredibly confined, and at the same time so vast that I can’t comprehend. If I had a heart, it would run at a thousand beats a second. I want to hyperventillate, but I have no lungs for air to rush to, no muscles to squeeze in, no mouth for air to rush in, no air to breathe! Then I’m walking along the coast of Pacifica. The smell of the ocean air mixes with the rotting trash washed

I wake from my dreamless sleep at the sound of sharp chirping. Red lights flash into my eye, which makes them flutter. I groan and turn on my back. My left arm’s held down by something and I tug on it, but then feel skin shift over it and realize that it’s Judy that’s pinning it down. She moves around a bit, and my arm’s free to move. I stay still until I hear her snoring again, then check my agent for what woke me up. It tells me that it was a call from an unknown person. I release a frustrated grunt, then carefully stand up and slink out of the bedroom. I tiptoe across the apartment and, after putting on a pair of slippers, leave through the front door and go to the fire escape. I lean on the railing and tell my agent to call the contact back. A small window opens in the corner of my vision and the call starts to ring. It rings once. Twice. Thrice. It rings for the fourth time. I heave off the railing, about to go back inside when the other side connects. A black background fills

//TW// This is (if you couldn't guess) a fetish story. This part contains: Fat Fetishism The town of Barra de Cazones isn’t the busiest town, but it does have it’s fair share of traffic. The main road is busiest at noon and at around 7-8 PM, when the workers from the nearby fusion power plant come home, which employs most of the town’s working populace. The side roads and alleys also have a bit of noise from the local residents, but less from cars and more from pedestrians, cyclists, and whatever shady stuff that goes on in those dark corners. Not many dare to drive in these tight corridors, even less have cars to begin with. Today, however, in the middle of the night, a small orange taxi was doing just that, maneuvering the sharp corners and the trash left on the sidewalk, moving slowly, but confidently, like it knew the place inside and out. After it came out of a small alley over to Ensueño Plaza, it slowed down and parked on the road curb. The door on the left front and the