Jofella: Chapter 13
Everything proceeds unhindered but by its own inherently crippling difficulty. Summoning the mental and verbal courage to make contact with the old girls, the art theory girls, as he referred to them. Feeling defeated by Maria, confused by Larissa, there remained only Jessica Rocket, still sexy ass as ever. She wouldn’t fucking talk to him anymore. He never really understood why, besides the soft sexual assault. It wasn't assault, as far as the guilty intent was concerned, as far as he was concerned, he barely even understood he had done something wrong. Jessica and her sister Zindy, the bitch of the Rockette sisters. They were deep in the white wine spritzers when he finally approached them at a gathering, "Have you come to apologize to us?" said Zindy. "You fucking weak ass cock." They giggled and hollered at each other. They still had that duo power he had to respect. "What for?" Jessica just stared at him. "Everyone else already knows," Zindy laughed. He didn’t fucking care. It was sad, they had nothing, he had literally beat himself the fuck down to not giving a shit about anything, what the fuck could he give a shit about after being made a fool of by the one true angel on this earth, Misty, they would both end up mentally alone married to some soft cock. All he wanted now was a sweet pillow of puss, female company, something, he knew it would lead nowhere, but what if it went somewhere, what if that was what love was supposed to be, some depressing compromise you get used to and settle into and find the meaning of the shit universe within. Stay humble lads. They were expecting a response out of him, and when there was none, they were forced to look inwards and discover they were lonely and fucked too. Zindy walked off empty towards the bar and another group of people. Jessica stayed behind, continuing to look at Joffrey. The calm gave Joffrey the clarity to reminisce on that bitter sweet night. Sometimes everything does happen right, as right as life will allow it to be, he was fucking on point that night, maybe he was just happy, maybe he just had an aura, maybe from crypto pumping, maybe she really was attracted to him. He had a spark of confidence in him that night. She smiled. It was enough then, in the dark shitty party, insert memory disc in head, traumatic, fuck fuck, what the fuck... they went home together he could barely remember, fuck fuck fuck, why, she didn't go to the police, she didn't press rape charges, but Zindy, that bitch, went around saying shit. It was true, he had wooed her, he had captured her heart, charming as fuck. They got home fucking. Getting down into it, she wanted to suck his cock, she really wanted to suck on the source of the universe pulsing in her mouth, pacifier of chad in sexing armor, drunken regret echoing her eternal embarrassment.
"So fucking what if I wanted you in my mouth, don't you remember what happened next?" Women always yelling at me. "I've seen you hanging out with Maria, or Misty as I know her, so I'm sure you know all about her. I might as well tell you the truth." He didn't want her to give him a blow job. He was too aroused. He was afraid, he knew he would ejaculate instantly with her warm juicy tongue and lips encompassing him. He pushed her eager face away from its center of gravity. Then he reciprocated their positions, getting down to a submissive pose and forcing her onto her back, to which she obeyed, and he leaned his head as low in as his neck would allow and tactically flickered his tongue around and lightly approached her clitoris. But she didn't want him to perform orally on her either, he didn't know why at the time. "Well, it was true, I did want you to finger me, there is a sensitive spot up in me where only a finger can reach." Joffrey had nice long fingers with knobby joints made powerful from using a paintbrush. "Well I used to. No, you were doing it fine in the beginning. Maybe too good. Maybe that was the problem. I don't know. I still don't know. But then the pain started. No! It wasn't pleasure. It wasn't an orgasm. Of course I would know. That's why I told you to stop. I yelled at you to stop. I even scooched back away from you, and you moved with me and kept going. And that's when the real pain hit me. That strong physical feeling became also something deeper. Something really bad went wrong. I was losing consciousness and you kept going." Joffrey remembered there, he finally stopped when he could see her crying, that miserable curled up and puffy face of a female breaking down in hormonal sadness. The ultimate nightmare for any man who has to deal with it.
Joffrey looked down at his fingers. The nails were overgrown and they were caked in old paint and scum in all the cracks and crevices. "Do you think it was the paint on my fingers and the long nails?"
"You gave me a miscarriage, sort of. I had a special ability. Just like Maria. We were both picked up by Toji Corp."
"I killed your Tamagotchi?"
"I was a Pokeprincess. I was menstruating, or sort of the equivalent, there's no blood, just a fresh battery sort of chemical odor. But I still didn't want you to go down on me. Well somehow you did something, maybe it was your disgusting painter fingers, you caused the pokeball developing inside me to prematurely open up and eject. The sharp metal edges damaged my womb, at least that's what the trad doctors said, they thought I was masturbating with it, but there's probably something else. It made me infertile. It destroyed all my artistic abilities. Toji doesn't want anything to do with me anymore. I can't make shit. Now I'm stuck studying art theory. Fucking criticism! Next time a woman says stop you better fucking do it."
"What kind of pokemon was it?"
"A Dratini."
Dratini.
"Its over for you Joffrey. You wont know when or how, but I'm gonna make your artistic life miserable, I'll fucking destroy you, you little cuck faggot."
There were no other girls for him to hang out with, get close to, maybe have something happen between them. He couldn't just call up a girl, he was too nervous, he needed his relationships to build up slowly over time, develop a unique history to give him some stable ground to act upon. He had no choice but to crawl back to Maria and Larissa. There was very little chance of there being a future for him with either of them, but it didn't matter, he needed something, anything, even if it was just some distant contact, an intimacy of hopeless losers cucked into their own prison cells next to each other. Plus, Jessica's revelation had made him think, maybe there really was some weakness to Maria beyond her grooming. If all her charm and success is dependent on her gift, and that gift can so easily be taken away or lost to the inherent weaknesses of a mortal body, did she not then have the same vulnerabilities as all the suffering creatures below her, was she really such a goddess beyond his match? He didn't wanna get his hopes up too much, he had already been through enough mental anguish over her, yet he couldn't not explore that weakness, subtly make her aware of it, see if he could tip the scales in his favour.
They were sitting at a table with a group of the usual people at Cafe Englander. Jofella recognized the scene. He had just catalogued his version of it for the Saga of Maria Toji Disc Adventure Series. The screen panned and shifted in, leaving stuttering moments of still frame, moments to reflect, it was so different now with Maria playing the Saga, he looked so hopeless and retarded, sitting there, talking about Wolfgang Bauer's Café Tamagotchi. It was especially difficult watching himself while knowing he had been so close. It was the right approach to attack her with some brotherly teasing, a slight humiliation of her in front of the others, it made her sad. Everyone knew she made Tamagotchi art, but they still didn't know about her condition. "No the play has nothing to do with Tamagotchis exactly, well in spirit yes, but it's really its own universe." Joffrey was just getting the conversation going. The others followed in for him, "You must know about the play, Maria, your art is all about Tamagotchi, right?" She just sat there nervous, barely touching her spritzer.
Why don't you just fucking tell them everything, she thought to herself. She really was getting tired of hiding it, who fucking cares anymore, so what if she was a weeb freak, at least she had Woldgang Bauer on her side. But Joffrey tested this resolve, "Why don't you show everyone your tattoo, Maria." She realized she couldn't. She was simply too shy, or maybe it really was shame, maybe she really was a victim of Toji and the Pokemaster. She was getting even more sad. She had run into Jessica Rocket the other day and was thinking about her. She knew Jessica and Zindy as an artist duo from when they were on their guest semester at the Venice Academy. They were working on some kind of Pokemon and human hybrid reality game. Apparently Jessica had an ability similar to her own but instead of Tamagotchis, her body produced pokeballs. She hadn't developed her skill quite well enough yet, that's why she was studying with Toji under the Pokemaster, the pokeballs didn't yet contain real live pokemon, more like digital entities, visible as sort of holographics, still absorbable into Toji computer systems and compatible networks, but not real flesh. She didn't get to know them so well at the time in Venice, Jessica was just explaining this to her the other day. Zindy was the curator behind her skill, she wanted to train Jessica's body better, she had set up some guys for Jessica to fuck, to get her body accustomed to interbreeding, but then something terrible happened, Jessica wouldn't say exactly what, she also seemed too ashamed to get into this. In any case, she lost her ability. She was left with nothing. Toji dropped their apprenticeship. Misty was worried. What if she lost her ability too? She'd be all alone, sitting there with no brain, just a hot dumb body and this loser cuck Joffrey getting drunk and making fun of her even more than he already was. He kept this smug mocking expression on his face every time his vision glanced over her, he wouldn't even look her in the eye except to accentuate his ridicule. He's not even trying to fuck me. Fuck this place. This city is so fucking depressing. I don’t even wanna fuck him. Why is it making me like this, Larissa?
Of course Joffrey wanted to fuck her. Larissa reassured her, leaning in next to her and whispering. She could see it in Joffrey's eye's, it was the same way she couldn't look Joffrey in the eye for more than half a second without freezing up. Jofella could remember it as well. He was attempting to do what the chads teach one to do, in his own way, he was treating her as one of the lads, just teasing her, trying to get that upper hand of confidence. But he lost himself, he was taking it too far, the problem was clear to him now, he did not have the natural chad instincts, even if he was on the top of his game, the best he could do was some kind of brotherly teasing, he couldn't get that extra step to make her need his cock, what's worse, he couldn't even try, he was so scared of saying the wrong thing, all he could do was drunkenly mumble off about how gay japanese cultural obsession is.
"Oh my god he's so fucking stupid." She said to Larissa. "I was ready to lay my pussy out for him and he's fucking missing it. I'm gonna give him one more chance to see if he can fuck. I'm gonna give him the rape test. If he fails that then I'm getting the fuck out of this city and going to Berlin. I'm gonna track down Mifella and those guys and at least I'll be around some real artists."
"What's the rape test?"
"Well not rape, in Italy we call it minor incursio sexualis."
—-----
Fed up with the fruitless pursuit of a suitable woman, Joffrey did what men in similar conundrums with the puss have been doing for millenia, he went fishing. Though every epoch holds its own techniques and species in relevant esteems, no sport is immune to cultural force, and here Joffrey found himself not casting nets at balling schools in the eddies of the Danube, but in the shallow creeks leading in, roadside ditches, culvert outflows, eroded flood plain depression where any inch of water can pool in a connected flow, even the rills splitting down the banks where pinheads leap and splash, indistinguishable from insect larvae to the untrained eye. It was all for the art of course, attired in english fly fishing gear, but commanding a handmade japanese tanago rod, intricately carved from the finest wood and barely outlengthening a chopstick, weebelescing, he had been collecting video footage, internet videos, fuck painting, he was going back to his old hobby.
After a day's work he had plucked a few fit for a gold fish tank and enough HD frames to string up some content. Dragging his satchel of gear home it hit him, a delay, grating resistance of time and production, he knew he should have live streamed, he had purchased the latest Toji palmtop with a data phone, connectable as a modem, running on AA batteries, he could have pushed out 3 frames a second, not bad, but something was lacking in confidence. Then, fiddling around with the gear on the train, seeing if it was really possible to mobile stream, he received a message from Maria. A message from Maria, he repeated to himself, blinking, making sure it was real, on this fine fishing day, in the explosions of possible scenarios, the limitless permutations in the unfolding of events here we are, on this fine fishing day, was it fishing then, the answer all along, well microfishing, perhaps it's all in that, not manly Marlin fishing, but the slender armed japanese art of microfishing, ahh life.... who the fuck knows, I love microfishing, I love japan, I love Misty, fuck it, let's do a live stream.
He wrote back to her. He did want to apologize. He felt it now, only just now, for making her show her Tamagotchi belly button to everyone like a circus freak. But he didn't want to completely cave into her, he didn't want to watch anime, but a compromise, he'd been wanting to watch a classic samurai movie, How about Harakiri, he said. She was into it, she was into his suggestion, oh yes she was falling into him. Ah what a joy life is.
He got home and booted up the streaming software on his desktop PC, he didn't have a Toji yet, but he had the peripherals to connect to the Toji servers and network access points. His followers were very interested, the gay ones, he hadn't posted a fishing vid in awhile, and now micros, what's this? That was the point of the stream, a discussion, analysis and Q&A of the japanese tradition."Japanese people cherish small things...ancient proto anime engravings depict old men hunched over rice field drainage ditches... the Tokyo bitterling, most prized of all micro fish... the shogun samurai was once said to have stolen another man's wife, the prize beauty of the village, the master's daughter, over having out fished him in a micro fishing contest... well yes, I mean it has sort of happened to me too... not a japanese girl, no, but as close as you can get, she is animated." His followers couldn't believe it. Such a girl as he described.
When Joffrey's doorbell rang the stream was still going, he really was seeing a girl, maybe there was something to micro fishing after all, maybe there was hope in this world for their nascent streaming community. Maria entered the frame. A still image, freezing then shifting, girl alive, the camera struggled to process the powerful force of data.
Dust particles of Joffrey's bodily sheddings vibrated on the firing silicon chips soldered to his motherboard, laser cut data lines of recording discs sprayed with disk drive lubricant, cooling fans running at full force, the first sex tape looped back into Jofella with a pop of incubation. For the past hour or so the sex tape had been held in suspension in the background of his desktop, not paused, a standing reserve still pulsing its energy, building up, waiting to be released. It was all under Misty's control, controlling exactly what Joffrey experienced on his screen for maximum cucksploitation, she knew exactly when to bring the sex tape back up. His anti porno virus software protection disabled, her program slipped through his interface directly into the sex tape, now playing, an old cassette 4:3 ratio, as if it always had been, auto rewind and replay for eternity, a sex tape passed on through the generations, a super program was forming with active and static data energy particles, buzzing through his system and on the screen, that powerful fucking screen, he couldn’t look away, no one could, Maria was the screen addiction itself in all screens, the drug addicted brains of billions addicted to her, she was hiding in their screens, the Roman Goddess of screens, can't look away, its so nice to look at her, the angle of view shifts, not Joffrey's but the entire concept of viewing angles, universal laws, bending optical gaze through space, the electro matter balls off, oscillating up and down, from his crotch to the screen, allowing him to look at his cock and her face at the same time. The tape doesn't lie, it's real, it was recorded. Carbon static data. No possibility of Ai interference. But Misty was inside. More powerful than Ai because she is real. At least I'm feeling real, even if it's hell. Strapped in his chair, the tape fast forwarding and then reversing, positioning itself, Maria then repositioned it correctly to her will adjusting the contents of the frame, it was her saga, Joffrey was in the chair, he remembered this all too well, he remembered rewinding and replaying softcore nudity scenes of hot actresses on VHS tapes as a boy, he never thought adulthood would be more or less the same, just more gay.
The chaos of the birth of this new disk program, it's just a disc program, Jofella kept telling himself, all the world's a disc, spinning through the universe, turntable of the Goddesses, just scratch me once in the right place dear Misty.
The right beat. Digital excretions coming out of pores like salt sweet data bits encoding her body, information extending off her forming the 3D model of his room, polarized into the magnetic tape of the VHS, back through it, rewinding, becoming it, Harakari shoots through their eyes in an instant, the closing sounds echo out, her voice over top saying she wants to stay over, for the Tamagotchis, she was gathering them in the bed, digital wrapper of sheets, the seance would not be complete without the ones he inseminated for her, no longer fresh, potentially incubating, she ran her thumb over one, something was happening, in that minor everyday feeling keeping one safe from insanity, stable but bored in consistency, in the boundlessness of the universe and time finally something was happening to him, he was escaping that minor stability, maybe it was just the nudity of her fresh breasts, there is nothing more, he knew, and they became like a family, all wrapped up together in the sheets, the two of them with the Tamagotchis. Her plump ass, how was such an ass on such a trim figured girl possible, so budding, yet so well proportioned in modesty, with it grooving in to him, lying on their sides, her face away from him, in all this splendor of anticipation, he heard the faint sounds, he sensed the hormonal changes, she was beginning, he paused in further analysis, yes, she was beginning to cry.
Crystalizing saltiness, soaking the pillowcase, infecting it with her sadness, a heavenly stain none the less, like corpses of ancient giants becoming mountains, this stain would live on in the geology of his dreams becoming nightmares until his internal disk stopped spinning forever. Imprinting into his mouth, drooling tongue, detecting her trace growing ever fainter until it was eventually covered over by Lalaidy, sweet Lalaidy get her out of my head he could only recall bad things now, negative associations with tears, stop, stop, Jessica Rocket's crying face, he had never really played the Women's Tears disc adventure that seriously, a japanese DOS game, he remembered there were some commands you could type into the console, beg forgiveness, tell her everything is gonna be alright, probe the crying thing with a question, "What is it, Maria? What is it?"
"You've always…" she let out in between the sobs, "You've always been so mean to me about the Tamagotchis."
He had to think about it, his brain was not there, having been left behind alone in the anticipation of her love, he had to breathe deeper and reflect, digging into his brain, what had happened between them, what was happening now. It was true, he realized, he had been mean to her, that was the point though, it made perfect sense at the time, she was being a bitch, and girls like it when you make fun of them, I mean she is here right now, isn't she? But then what is all this, she really does seem sad, you can't fake that swollen sobbing face, the acidic chemical secretions coming out of her pores. He felt bad about it all. "I'm sorry." She kept crying. He actually never really meant to take that far, he was a humorous guy, slight teasing was in his nature, but the grooming accusations, and the way he treated her in Englander in front of everyone just wasn't him. That was it, he was acting like someone else. He was trying to do what a chad would do. He thought it was the best way to be able to have sex with her.
"Why did you treat me that way then? It's like you hate me. Why do you hate me?" She continued to cry heavily.
"I was just trying to make you like me." He could feel it all coming together, like she was opening it up for reconciliation, as if it were a prerequisite to sex. It was almost too easy. Still, it was getting to him, what the fuck was wrong with him. He knew.
"I'm just covering up for my own insecurities, I had a Tamagotchi too you know, and I used to love Pokemon, that's the main thing, I was completely obsessed, my older brothers made fun of me relentlessly, I was so ashamed, that's when I got into fishing, catch 'em all, well at least real life pokemons wasn't as lame, not lame, I mean, I never should have listened to the others, I should have kept doing it, and look, Pokemon is on the rise now, If I had dedicated myself to the anime arts, who knows, I would be way more relevant now, instead of doing this euro trad art painting bullshit."
"What colour was your Tamagotchi?" The crying slowed down. A signal, even the computer system was detecting the frequency shift.
The camera auto zoomed in and out, adjusting its focus, shifting the frame, the cpu and gpu increased their speeds, it wasn't happening automatically, his computer was being controlled, Toji Corp had picked up on the stream, powerful cuck data encodings triggered alarms, Maria's aura had expanded the video servers production capacity, the bit rate was off the charts, composing almost an infinity of frames, the Pokemaster sat at the control station, he knew she would pull it off on Joffrey, if she wouldn't pull it off on him, she refused him even that, she would never give him the satisfaction of humiliating him, then at least he could live his fantasy through Joffrey, frozen, butterfly heartbeats, drooling.
Maria curled up into herself and snuggled her ass back in towards Joffrey, "Hold me", maybe she really was falling for him, a special feeling, oh so special and pure for life. She reached around and grabbed a hold of his penis which was formatted to handle the grip. It was happening it was really happening, he was in love with her, the Tamagothis buzzed, digital vibrations, anime hormones, she turned on her side to face him and opened her thighs towards him, putting one leg on top and rolling him over on top of her, he grabbed one of the gotchis in his clutched fist and brought it into the hair flowing wildly around her neck in the beautiful beast of feminine body nest, she was wet enough already, "Uh huh", she said, he fished his cock around that little explored topography of flesh, found the path, slowly guiding it in, releasing her sweet lubricant, pulling himself half way out, then back in in one hot juicy insertion of ejaculate arousing glory, preliminary intercourse achieved, "Stop!" she gasped, "Stop!" yelling, lightly pushing him back from her, but not quite moving away from him. "I think I'm just gonna go home to sleep actually." What could he say, he thought of Jessica Rocket, the former Pokeball Queen, he shuddered in horror, he couldn't bear to do the same thing to Maria, perhaps the last left of her kind, she looked at him, waiting for his response, he was aroused as hell, his cock was still half way inside of her, but he just couldn't chad up, "Okay," and slowly slid himself out with that springing pop of released pressure. She looked at him in pity, got up, got her Tamogitchis and other things and left, barely looking at him or saying goodbye. He jacked off three times and felt extremely confused. The confusion was repressing the bitter reality of the encounter, her wonderful scent still dancing around him, stuck in the room and to the bed like her holy spirit enchanting him, the faint hope that this was just the beginning and something really could develop between them. Tying to sleep, he finally saw the green light of the webcam recording and streaming to all his viewers. "Fuck."