HOME | DD

Description
Hyper Con(nie), Part One
by JamesE82

The penthouse apartment of Janet Raison, Eden Island, Angel Falls…

The moan was mostly for his benefit, but Janet had to admit that once he calmed down, the overly eager young man could do a thing or two for her.

“You like that?” Nathan Clark asked, taking his lips from the sultry brunette’s exposed back. Janet, face-down on her bed, was so thin that it seemed her every vertebrae was visible beneath her velvet skin, and he was making a point to kiss each and every one.

The naked woman purred, rolling her neck slightly, languidly opening her eyes to glance at the television.

She read the words PROTEST GROWS OVER CRIMSON CONSERVATIVE APPEARANCE AT SUPERHERO CONVENTION as the crawl ran beneath the scene of chaos in front of the convention hall of Paudraic's Getaway. Signs and banners swayed as some in the crowd chanted, some discussed their outrage to each other, and some simply roared their faces red in outrage.

A sign reading INTOLERANCE WILL NOT BE ACCEPTED! waved around by a bellowing black woman made Janet stifle a chuckle, wondering if the protestor realized the irony of her sign’s message… assuming it was her sign at all, and not one crafted and distributed by her people.

No, she thought. We do better work than that.

“Rent-a-mob” was a term that Ms. Raison, of course, never used herself when thinking about the literal busloads of protestors she paid to seemingly spring from nowhere in strategic locations at opportune times, but she supposed that was just what they were. There were websites she used to contact organizers, people who were good for spreading the word, filling the busses, and maybe even applying for a permit to march or protest if they thought it was absolutely necessary. Then again, just throw a few dollars, some bottles of cheap liquor, and cigarettes around the lower class neighborhoods, and presto! Tea Partiers are assaulted, courthouses are surrounded, and roiling controversy explodes from nothing.

NO NAZIS IN MY CITY! another sign read. CRAM YOUR CONSTITUTION, CONNIE! read another. SOCIALISTS FOR EQUALITY… KRIMSON KLANSWOMAN… EXECUTE THE WAR CRIMINAL!… SILENCE HATRED PERMANENTLY! with a noose hanging from it…

There had been a slip-up earlier during the coverage when Fox News had interviewed an Egyptian, the Muslim Brotherhood supporter spraying spittle into the face of the reporter as the protestor screamed again and again that America was “over,” and the Caliphate would pour the wrath of Allah upon people like the Crimson Conservative, the reporter, and all who stood in the way of his conquering faith.

That had almost made her grimace, but Janet knew that enough people had been trained to realize anything reported by Fox was untrustworthy, no matter what their own eyes and ears were telling them. She had been casually monitoring MSNBC and BGN since, and--unsurprisingly--all was going smoothly with those networks.

“We have to ask just what kind of society we are making for ourselves,“ a representative from a prominent LGBTSMIO group was saying, Janet’s half-closed eyes reading the captions on the muted TV. “We have to ask just what is acceptable, just what will be tolerated in this modern era. We have to ask ourselves if the archaic ways are gone for good, or if people like the Crimson Conservative will still be allowed to shape this world, if they will still be permitted to spread their beliefs. History has shown what comes from those old ways of thinking, and we have to ask ourselves if we are ready to watch our fellow human beings deal with the consequences of reverting to the outdated, hurtful ways that the civilized among us hope will soon be done away with permanently. Progressivism has brought us-”

The reporter politely broke away and held a hand to his earpiece. “Sorry, but it looks like… yes, we are getting word that the Crimson Conservative is in the building.”

Janet’s eyes were opened fully now, and for a moment she wondered if the Valium in her system had caused her to enter one of those half-dreaming states it sometimes put her into and she had misread the reporter’s words. Her lithe hand found the remote and unmuted the television.

“What’s up?” Nathan asked.

“Wait,” Janet said, putting her arms beneath her breasts and listening.

“Yes,” the Boundless Global News reporter said, “multiple sources are confirming that the Crimson Conservative is in the Convention Center. She has spoken to nobody, it seems, and briefly stopped by her booth a moment ago. I’m hearing… I’m hearing that she is armed, and…”

“How did she get free?” Nathan Clark asked, leaning forward so his hands were on the bed next to Janet’s chest, both of their heads pointed at the screen.

She killed everyone at the safe house, Janet thought. If someone had survived, they would have called… they had instructions to call. Despite the tranquilizers, muscle relaxants, and the Giminni‘s equipment, she still got loose and killed them all…

The reporter looked into the camera, starting to edge warily away from the crowd. “Yes, she is armed, and coming this way. They are saying-”

Then the camera panned to the front of the Convention Center, two of the front doors of which had been pushed open by the nine-foot supersoldier, who strode forward to the top of the steps and was surveying the near riot behind the security cordon.

“She could bring down an airliner with those things,” Nathan breathed, staring at the two giant firearms in her hands. “She… she wouldn’t…”

A monster would, Janet thought. People forget that she is a monster, and a monster would open fire on a crowd of unarmed people. Her heart rate increased as she strained her ears to hear what the redheaded beast was saying, but the camera was too far away to pick up her words. The crowd seemed on the verge of panic for a few moments, then, when a couple brave members of it seemed to call out taunts to the giantess, their tension quickly faded and their group-think started to become bold.

“She wouldn’t,” Nathan said again. “There’s not a chance she’d blow away Americans in broad daylight, with cameras covering her from every angle. She wouldn’t be that stup-”

The young man never finished his sentence, because that was when the woman beneath him reacted to what happened on the screen by suddenly arching herself back and unthinkingly sending her head into his face. She did not realize she had bloodied Nathan Clark’s lips, or that he had fallen to the side and tumbled off her bed.

All she knew at that moment was that the Crimson Conservative was sweeping the crowd with her firearms, pitilessly sending projectiles forward into the screaming sea of humanity.

--To be continued…--

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Has Connie finally lost her mind? Is this all just a piece of drug-induced delirium taking place only in Janet Raison’s head? Is there more to the crowd than meets the eye, and the supersoldier is actually doing a good deed? Is that not the Crimson Conservative at all, but some impostor? Will things become clear in my replies to comments below? The answer to the last question is “yes,” anyway; forget tension this time, I don’t want people to think something worse is happening than what Connie did in “They’ve Made their Bed…”, and really, while Janet is right about Connie being a monster, you don’t actually think she’d…

Anyway, I finally started telling the story of what my lumbering right-winger did during ’s Hyper Con event, which took place in a venue generously provided by , which in turn is located in the metropolis of . I heard the deadline for Hyper Con stories is today, but I’m gonna cheat a little and say that as long as I started this little tale in time, I’m allowed to finish it another day.

Also, as some people may have noticed, I’m skipping a scene in the story that started here, fav.me/d6gr4vp , and was hinted at here, fav.me/d6hskfm . Part two of “Why Connie was Late to Hyper Con” isn’t directly related to Hyper Con itself, meaning I can post that later and not worry about the deadline. Also, someone rightly pointed out that I had been doing a lot of fanservice lately, and the picture to go along with what happened to Connie while in captivity is fanservice all the way, so I’ll save it for a while. (Speaking of, why not vote in my poll about that topic if you haven’t already? jamese82.deviantart.com/journa… )

The above piece was done by Artist X, who--as always--has my thanks for his generosity in letting me use works he is no longer happy with.

The Crimson Conservative is my creation, © 2009.

Comments welcome, even if it’s to say that you’d still give Ms. Raison a go in the sack despite the risk of ending up (literally) floored.

Description
Hyper Con(nie), Part One
by JamesE82

The penthouse apartment of Janet Raison, Eden Island, Angel Falls…

The moan was mostly for his benefit, but Janet had to admit that once he calmed down, the overly eager young man could do a thing or two for her.

“You like that?” Nathan Clark asked, taking his lips from the sultry brunette’s exposed back. Janet, face-down on her bed, was so thin that it seemed her every vertebrae was visible beneath her velvet skin, and he was making a point to kiss each and every one.

The naked woman purred, rolling her neck slightly, languidly opening her eyes to glance at the television.

She read the words PROTEST GROWS OVER CRIMSON CONSERVATIVE APPEARANCE AT SUPERHERO CONVENTION as the crawl ran beneath the scene of chaos in front of the convention hall of Paudraic's Getaway. Signs and banners swayed as some in the crowd chanted, some discussed their outrage to each other, and some simply roared their faces red in outrage.

A sign reading INTOLERANCE WILL NOT BE ACCEPTED! waved around by a bellowing black woman made Janet stifle a chuckle, wondering if the protestor realized the irony of her sign’s message… assuming it was her sign at all, and not one crafted and distributed by her people.

No, she thought. We do better work than that.

“Rent-a-mob” was a term that Ms. Raison, of course, never used herself when thinking about the literal busloads of protestors she paid to seemingly spring from nowhere in strategic locations at opportune times, but she supposed that was just what they were. There were websites she used to contact organizers, people who were good for spreading the word, filling the busses, and maybe even applying for a permit to march or protest if they thought it was absolutely necessary. Then again, just throw a few dollars, some bottles of cheap liquor, and cigarettes around the lower class neighborhoods, and presto! Tea Partiers are assaulted, courthouses are surrounded, and roiling controversy explodes from nothing.

NO NAZIS IN MY CITY! another sign read. CRAM YOUR CONSTITUTION, CONNIE! read another. SOCIALISTS FOR EQUALITY… KRIMSON KLANSWOMAN… EXECUTE THE WAR CRIMINAL!… SILENCE HATRED PERMANENTLY! with a noose hanging from it…

There had been a slip-up earlier during the coverage when Fox News had interviewed an Egyptian, the Muslim Brotherhood supporter spraying spittle into the face of the reporter as the protestor screamed again and again that America was “over,” and the Caliphate would pour the wrath of Allah upon people like the Crimson Conservative, the reporter, and all who stood in the way of his conquering faith.

That had almost made her grimace, but Janet knew that enough people had been trained to realize anything reported by Fox was untrustworthy, no matter what their own eyes and ears were telling them. She had been casually monitoring MSNBC and BGN since, and--unsurprisingly--all was going smoothly with those networks.

“We have to ask just what kind of society we are making for ourselves,“ a representative from a prominent LGBTSMIO group was saying, Janet’s half-closed eyes reading the captions on the muted TV. “We have to ask just what is acceptable, just what will be tolerated in this modern era. We have to ask ourselves if the archaic ways are gone for good, or if people like the Crimson Conservative will still be allowed to shape this world, if they will still be permitted to spread their beliefs. History has shown what comes from those old ways of thinking, and we have to ask ourselves if we are ready to watch our fellow human beings deal with the consequences of reverting to the outdated, hurtful ways that the civilized among us hope will soon be done away with permanently. Progressivism has brought us-”

The reporter politely broke away and held a hand to his earpiece. “Sorry, but it looks like… yes, we are getting word that the Crimson Conservative is in the building.”

Janet’s eyes were opened fully now, and for a moment she wondered if the Valium in her system had caused her to enter one of those half-dreaming states it sometimes put her into and she had misread the reporter’s words. Her lithe hand found the remote and unmuted the television.

“What’s up?” Nathan asked.

“Wait,” Janet said, putting her arms beneath her breasts and listening.

“Yes,” the Boundless Global News reporter said, “multiple sources are confirming that the Crimson Conservative is in the Convention Center. She has spoken to nobody, it seems, and briefly stopped by her booth a moment ago. I’m hearing… I’m hearing that she is armed, and…”

“How did she get free?” Nathan Clark asked, leaning forward so his hands were on the bed next to Janet’s chest, both of their heads pointed at the screen.

She killed everyone at the safe house, Janet thought. If someone had survived, they would have called… they had instructions to call. Despite the tranquilizers, muscle relaxants, and the Giminni‘s equipment, she still got loose and killed them all…

The reporter looked into the camera, starting to edge warily away from the crowd. “Yes, she is armed, and coming this way. They are saying-”

Then the camera panned to the front of the Convention Center, two of the front doors of which had been pushed open by the nine-foot supersoldier, who strode forward to the top of the steps and was surveying the near riot behind the security cordon.

“She could bring down an airliner with those things,” Nathan breathed, staring at the two giant firearms in her hands. “She… she wouldn’t…”

A monster would, Janet thought. People forget that she is a monster, and a monster would open fire on a crowd of unarmed people. Her heart rate increased as she strained her ears to hear what the redheaded beast was saying, but the camera was too far away to pick up her words. The crowd seemed on the verge of panic for a few moments, then, when a couple brave members of it seemed to call out taunts to the giantess, their tension quickly faded and their group-think started to become bold.

“She wouldn’t,” Nathan said again. “There’s not a chance she’d blow away Americans in broad daylight, with cameras covering her from every angle. She wouldn’t be that stup-”

The young man never finished his sentence, because that was when the woman beneath him reacted to what happened on the screen by suddenly arching herself back and unthinkingly sending her head into his face. She did not realize she had bloodied Nathan Clark’s lips, or that he had fallen to the side and tumbled off her bed.

All she knew at that moment was that the Crimson Conservative was sweeping the crowd with her firearms, pitilessly sending projectiles forward into the screaming sea of humanity.

--To be continued…--

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Has Connie finally lost her mind? Is this all just a piece of drug-induced delirium taking place only in Janet Raison’s head? Is there more to the crowd than meets the eye, and the supersoldier is actually doing a good deed? Is that not the Crimson Conservative at all, but some impostor? Will things become clear in my replies to comments below? The answer to the last question is “yes,” anyway; forget tension this time, I don’t want people to think something worse is happening than what Connie did in “They’ve Made their Bed…”, and really, while Janet is right about Connie being a monster, you don’t actually think she’d…

Anyway, I finally started telling the story of what my lumbering right-winger did during ’s Hyper Con event, which took place in a venue generously provided by , which in turn is located in the metropolis of . I heard the deadline for Hyper Con stories is today, but I’m gonna cheat a little and say that as long as I started this little tale in time, I’m allowed to finish it another day.

Also, as some people may have noticed, I’m skipping a scene in the story that started here, fav.me/d6gr4vp , and was hinted at here, fav.me/d6hskfm . Part two of “Why Connie was Late to Hyper Con” isn’t directly related to Hyper Con itself, meaning I can post that later and not worry about the deadline. Also, someone rightly pointed out that I had been doing a lot of fanservice lately, and the picture to go along with what happened to Connie while in captivity is fanservice all the way, so I’ll save it for a while. (Speaking of, why not vote in my poll about that topic if you haven’t already? jamese82.deviantart.com/journa… )

The above piece was done by Artist X, who--as always--has my thanks for his generosity in letting me use works he is no longer happy with.

The Crimson Conservative is my creation, © 2009.

Comments welcome, even if it’s to say that you’d still give Ms. Raison a go in the sack despite the risk of ending up (literally) floored.