Rose de Fer
Abbie adjusted her Japanese school uniform, straightened her blue-streaked wig and slung her katana across her back before launching herself into the convention room and into geek paradise. Characters from countless films, TV shows and comics mingled in wonderfully incongruous combinations. It was as if a bomb had gone off in the world of genre fiction, flinging them all into one space.
She watched in amusement as Mr Spock and Luke Skywalker amiably compared phasers and lightsabers, proof that Star Trek and Star Wars fans didn’t always have to disagree. Although, she thought, give it time. They’d probably be duking it out later over which show was the best, which ship was the fastest, which hero the coolest. Well, Abbie knew where her loyalties lay. When it came to starship commanders, Captain Picard was the one to rule them all.
There was some commotion across the room and Abbie looked over in amazement to see Godzilla pushing his way in through the fire doors. A group of Silent Hill cultists was taunting him and getting him to roar. The iconic sound filled the room, earning applause and cheers from everyone around.
‘Run!’ someone cried in a mock Japanese accent. ‘It’s Gojira!’
Doctor Who – Abbie wasn’t sure which one; she could never keep them straight – was standing with Wolverine and the Mad Hatter by a stall that sold fan T-shirts. The shirts had slogans like ‘Miskatonic University Medical School’, ‘Damn fine coffee’, ‘I am a leaf on the wind’ and ‘Sorry, ladies – I’m with the Night’s Watch’.
The dealers’ room was a maze of tables and stands, with vendors selling everything from books and DVDs to Elvish jewellery and medieval weapons. As Abbie watched a barbarian heft one of the broadswords for a photo, she wondered if it was actually metal. Her katana was only a replica, hard plastic that looked the part from a distance but wouldn’t stand close scrutiny. It was just an accessory anyway, and hardly the focal point of her outfit. What little of it there was.
The skirt of her sailor suit was short enough to show a generous expanse of leg, and the top was cut in a low sexy V that highlighted her cleavage and was cropped to flaunt the flat belly she’d been killing herself for in the gym. She looked hot. She felt hot. And while she’d come to FanCon because she genuinely loved the geek culture it celebrated, she was also after some action.
From across the room she saw the Joker eyeing her up, and she returned his manic smile.
* * *
Jen was terrified. It was a kind of sensory overload, seeing so many recognisable characters all in one place. Especially as she didn’t actually know any of them for real. Some of the costumes were simply breathtaking. The man dressed as Darkness from Legend looked at least eight feet tall, and the enormous horns he was wearing must weigh a ton. Likewise, whoever was in the Godzilla suit must be sweltering. Talk about suffering for fashion!
She had never been in such a packed room before, and for a while she could only peer through the door at the crowd, too self-conscious to go inside. How could her own outfit possibly compete? What had she been thinking? She was no Galadriel, no royal elf, just a mousy little fangirl in a long white dress with joke-shop pointy ears and a circlet she’d bought on eBay. She felt like she’d turned up to a formal dinner in jeans and a T-shirt. And not even one with a cool slogan.
For the hundredth time, she wished she’d asked her brother to come with her. She might have been able to persuade him to wear something basic, even if it didn’t come from Middle Earth. She could have turned him into a zombie or a vampire without much effort. Hell, he could have just worn his army stuff and said he was a character from Call of Duty.
Jen gazed at the parade of characters, stunned into silence. Some of the women took her breath away. Daenerys Targaryen, Xena, Katniss Everdeen and Death were amazing, and there was a girl dressed as a kind of sexy Sailor Moon manga girl who had legs to die for. Jen counted at least three slave Leias and felt a pang of envy at their boldness. She couldn’t imagine wearing anything so revealing.
Just before Rick had dumped her, she’d finally been starting to believe that she wasn’t as unappealing as she’d always imagined. But her ego had taken a pounding from the ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ text. Honestly, it was like a form letter, loaded with every cliché in the book. He’d probably downloaded it from BreakupTexts.com or something. His followup promise that he wanted to stay friends (because she was like a sister to him, ho-ho) had only reinforced her sense of worthlessness.
FanCon was supposed to be her chance to get out, to be among others of her kind, others who loved ‘all that fantasy shit’ as much as she did. Possibly even make new friends. Ones who maybe – hopefully – might want to be more than just friends. Ones who wouldn’t think of her like a sister. Now here she was cowering in a doorway because she felt too inadequate to join in.
She should have picked a costume she could hide inside – the Creature from the Black Lagoon maybe. Something with a mask, anyway. No, actually, she should have shaved her head and gone as Imperator Furiosa. That might have given her some confidence. She was no Charlize Theron, but who would know behind the engine oil and the mechanical arm?
With a sigh she looked down at her dress again. Maybe it wasn’t so bad. There were people inside who had even poorer costumes than hers, and there were some who weren’t even dressed up at all.
Right, she thought, let’s do this.
She took a deep breath and stood up straight, trying to summon some Elvish poise. Then she pushed open the door and stepped inside.
* * *
The Joker had turned out to be a real joke. Just a leering teenager who was there with his mum. Not for the first time, Abbie wished there was an adults-only space to retreat to. Makeup and costumes could do wonders. They could transform you into someone else. Unfortunately, while most people used the magic to look younger, others had the opposite ambition.
‘Sorry, kid,’ she’d told him. ‘You’re a bit young for me.’
Oh, well, back to the party. There was a Klingon warrior with a body that made her nethers throb, but the green-painted Orion slave girl at his side gave off serious girlfriend vibes. She might be dressed as a meek little submissive, but Abbie imagined she’d suddenly go full domme if someone made a move on her man. A smile touched her lips at the thought of seducing both of them, but that was probably a fantasy too far, even for a convention wholly devoted to escapism.
She prowled the room, making sure everyone got a good look at her. A couple of people stopped to ask about her costume and she had to explain that she wasn’t any established manga character. Just her own creation – Kuroneko. She’d named herself after an old Japanese movie. It meant ‘black cat’. And oh, could she prowl and purr!
Confident as she was, some of the women were intimidatingly beautiful. One was the spitting image of Firefly’s Inara, and Abbie had to stare for some time before finally being convinced that it wasn’t actually her. The Resident Evil girl’s costume was less successful. It looked like it had come from a fetish shop and was at least two sizes too small, but Abbie had to commend her pluck for making the effort.
Then, on the fringe of the crowd, she spotted a willowy girl dressed as Galadriel. Her costume was fairly uninspired, but she was exceedingly pretty in that distracted, otherworldly way of girls who don’t realise just how pretty they are. Her long hair – not a wig – flowed down her back in glorious golden waves and the way she moved made Abbie think of a deer. Naturally graceful, even when frightened. She had wide, innocent eyes and a little pink rosebud of a mouth. Abbie imagined she would taste of strawberries and cream.
She was about to make her move when a man appeared out of nowhere and started talking to the girl. Abbie’s girl. At first Abbie thought he wasn’t in costume at all, but then she recognised the look. The bowler hat should have been a dead giveaway, even if she hadn’t seen the malacca-handled umbrella and velvet lapels on his tailored blue suit. The room was crawling with superhero Avengers, but here was an altogether different kind of
Avenger. One she’d encountered before.
She watched for a moment while John Steed smiled and tipped his hat to the shy elf lady, all devastating charm and charisma. Abbie knew that combination well and she bristled with jealous pique. It wasn’t just the fact that she’d shagged him before; she’d already marked the girl as hers, damn it! Now another hunter was muscling in. And much as she still fancied him and would have been more than keen to be his Mrs Peel (again), she was territorial about her sexual conquests.
It only took her a moment to decide what to do. If he could stalk and pounce, so could she.
* * *
Jen found herself blushing and stammering as the man introduced himself to her. She’d never actually seen the TV show he was from, but she knew who he was and she was charmed by his old-fashioned manner and easy smile. He was in character as well as costume.
‘My name’s Jen,’ she said, resisting the urge to curtsy as he kissed her hand.
‘And I’m Will. I must say, you do look the part, my dear.’
‘Really? Wow, and I thought I looked pretty lame compared to some of the people here.’ She shook her head in amazement as an alien xenomorph slunk past them with a hiss. ‘Most of them, actually.’
‘Not at all. The dress suits you. It would suit you anywhere, not just a convention. You truly are the Lady of Light.’
She giggled, feeling like a schoolgirl at her first dance. Was he being serious or just trying to get her into bed? The idea certainly wasn’t without its own appeal. She had needs of her own, needs Rick had never been able to satisfy. Rick, who wouldn’t even watch Lord of the Rings with her, much less come to a place like this. What a wanker. And just like that, she banished him from her mind.
Will took a gold pocket watch on a long chain from his waistcoat and read the time before snapping it shut. ‘I wonder if you’d like to get some lunch with me,’ he said. ‘Only I skipped the hotel breakfast and I’m quite famished.’
Jen blushed. ‘Lunch? Oh. Um …’ She glanced around the room. ‘I’ve only just come in. Got here, I mean.’ Then, at his look of disappointment, she quickly reconsidered. ‘But yeah, lunch would be great!’
‘Splendid,’ he said. ‘Do you like champagne?’
She opened her mouth to respond, but the voice she heard next wasn’t her own.
‘I love champagne.’
She jumped and then turned around to see who had spoken. It was the sexy Sailor Moon girl. Jen’s breath caught in her throat and she stood gawping, not knowing what to say.
But Will clearly wasn’t so easily flummoxed. ‘Do you now?’
He didn’t sound at all cross. In fact, his eyes were dancing with mischief and excitement, as though he’d just been challenged to a duel.
‘Is this guy bothering you, sweetie?’ the other girl asked.
‘Well, um, no,’ Jen stammered. ‘We were – um, just going to have lunch.’ She looked at Will for validation. He nodded, smiling at the new arrival. It took a moment but Jen finally twigged. ‘I’m sorry, do you two know each other?’
‘We’ve met,’ said the other girl, a sly smile spreading across her features. She crossed her arms over her ample bosom and watched him expectantly.
Jen wasn’t sure what to make of the situation. It didn’t feel like a domestic dispute she’d got caught in the middle of, but there was clearly more going on than she was aware of.
‘I’m Abbie, by the way,’ the girl said, suddenly offering Jen her hand.
Jen automatically stuck out her hand too and the girl clasped it tightly. The contact sent tiny shock waves through her body. Abbie was everything Jen had ever wanted to be – beautiful, audacious and drop-dead sexy.
‘My name’s Jen,’ she managed to mumble. She glanced awkwardly at Will, who took a step closer to her, as though choosing sides. He looped a proprietary arm around her shoulders and Jen trembled as more shock waves coursed through her. She felt like a mouse caught between two cats. Two incredibly seductive cats.
‘I like your costume,’ Jen said. She could hear the envy in her own voice. Envy at Abbie’s body, at her courage in displaying so much skin, at her undeniable allure. Jen wasn’t even bi, but she felt her body responding to Abbie.
‘And yours too,’ she added, turning to Will. She felt like she was drowning in arousal. Her body was feverish beneath her Elvish gown.
Will laughed softly. ‘Oh, I’d hardly call it a costume,’ he said in a casual oh-this-old-thing tone. ‘It’s how more men ought to dress, really.’
Jen couldn’t argue with that. ‘Definitely.’
‘Mm-hmm,’ Abbie purred. Now it was her turn to get proprietary. She slid herself closer and Jen caught a whiff of her perfume. Something exotic and heady, with hints of jasmine. She inhaled deeply, feeling intoxicated by the scent.
For a few moments no one spoke. Will and Abbie exchanged glances across Jen and Jen looked from one to the other, waiting for someone to speak. She didn’t know what to say herself.
Fortunately, Will finally broke the silence. ‘Well, then,’ he said, ‘my room or yours?’
Jen’s heart did a little tumble and she pressed her legs together as her sex pulsed in response to his proposition. Did he mean her room? Or Abbie’s?
Before she could start stammering again and make a fool of herself, Abbie lifted her head and decided the issue with a single word. ‘Mine.’ Her smile included both Jen and Will, so there was absolutely no mistaking her intentions.
Will smiled, suddenly looking less like the gentlemanly Steed and more like the Big Bad Wolf. He and Abbie each took one of Jen’s arms and led her from the dealers’ room and out into the hotel. She was grateful for the support; she didn’t think she could have walked by herself.
* * *
Abbie put the DO NOT DISTURB sign on the door and closed it behind her guests. This was even better than she’d imagined. She’d never had a threesome before but she’d fantasised about it as much as any guy ever had. She had no idea if Will was experienced in this area, but she wasn’t about to admit her newbie-ness.
Jen looked more like a terrified rabbit than a queenly elf, but that was fine. Abbie was happy to guide her. As long as Will played fair. The three-way vibes between them were intense, but it didn’t have to be a competition. They weren’t fighting over Jen, after all, just sharing her.
‘You’re a very bad girl, you know,’ Will said, removing his derby and setting it on the desk beside his umbrella.
Abbie quirked an eyebrow at him. ‘Bad girls have all the fun.’
‘Hmmm,’ he said, looking pointedly at Jen. ‘We shall see.’
The girl blushed in response to the insinuation. Good girl, bad girl.
Abbie took over and led Jen to the bed. She could feel the girl trembling beneath her hands and she stroked her hair like a pet to calm her. It was lovely, like spun gold. What a stunning Lady Godiva she would make. Jen stood obediently still as Abbie slipped the circlet off. It had left indentations in her forehead and Abbie pressed her lips against the marks. Jen shuddered beneath her kiss before reaching out tentatively to touch Abbie’s face. Abbie caught her hand, brought the girl’s fingers to her mouth and licked and sucked them in turn.
Will had removed his jacket, but instead of taking off his shirt he was rolling up his sleeves. She frowned in puzzlement.
‘You are a very bad girl, aren’t you,’ he said more than asked.
Abbie couldn’t help but respond to the sexy authority in his voice. She gave him a sex-kitten pout as she chewed a finger and traced a circle on the carpet with one high-heeled foot. ‘What are you going to do about it?’ she teased.
Jen’s face went scarlet as she realised what was about to happen.
Will turned Abbie around and slipped the katana off her shoulder. He pulled it from the sheath and inspected it. He flexed the plastic sword between his hands, testing its strength and clearly finding it sturdy enough for his purpose.
Jen backed away, her eyes wide.
‘Don�
��t worry, sweetness,’ Abbie felt compelled to say. ‘Good girls don’t have to suffer.’ Then she added with a sultry wink, ‘Not unless they want to.’
Without waiting to be instructed, she bent herself over the end of the bed, standing on tiptoe to present her bottom. The shortness of her skirt left little to the imagination, but Will flipped it up anyway.
‘I thought Japanese schoolgirls always wore white cotton panties,’ he said with a chuckle.
She was formulating a flirty response when Jen spoke up. ‘Not the bad ones.’
Ah, so the shy little minx was finding her courage. Warmth flooded Abbie’s sex at the thought of Jen watching and enjoying what was about to happen.
‘Quite right,’ Will said, tracing his finger over Abbie’s lacy blue knickers.
They weren’t quite as minimalist as a thong, but they still flaunted a lot of cheek. They made her arse look its most enticing. She gave her bum a little wiggle for emphasis.
Will raised the makeshift samurai sword and brought it down with a sharp crack.
Abbie jumped up with a little cry, taken aback by just how much it stung. Pain splashed across her bottom, intensifying the fire already burning between her legs. It was exquisite. She got control of herself and, with a little sigh, resumed the position without having to be told.
‘Good girl,’ Will said, his voice low and silky.
Abbie dared a glance at Jen, who had inched a little closer and looked mesmerised by what was happening. When the second stroke fell, igniting more fire across her cheeks, it was all she could do not to reach back and rub the sting away.
Clearly understanding her predicament, Jen crept onto the bed and took hold of Abbie’s wrists. She seemed to be gaining confidence every moment.
Abbie gazed into the girl’s shining blue eyes as she waited for the next stroke. God, she was beautiful! And Abbie was also beginning to suspect she wasn’t quite as innocent as she’d portrayed herself. Here in the bedroom the elf ears gave her a slightly devilish look.
Will flicked the katana down across Abbie’s bottom again and again, making her yelp and writhe and struggle in Jen’s grip. The pain was delicious and it was making her shamelessly wet. She could feel the dampness soaking the gusset of her knickers. She wouldn’t be able to take much more before she needed another kind of attention.
Come Play With Me Again Page 8
