while i work on some other fic, have this short piece that has been floating around my brain for a bit. Sarcasmosaur(?) is the creator of Olga, so props goes to them as the character does not belong to me. The BLU Soldier drummed his fingers on the table impatiently as he sat at the small round table, a watery glass of whiskey by his side. He had been dragged along to this second-rate, smoke-filled supper club by the over enthusiastic Medic from his team, who did nothing but rant and rave about the place during the entire trip. Oh how he wanted to strangle the Kraut so bad right now, making him exchange his military fatigues for a tight-fitting tuxedo and feeding him steak so bland that Solly felt like he was eating a dishrag. "This better be worth my hard-earned American money," He fumed as he watched the doctor finish the last of his dinner. Medic took his napkin and dabbed at the corner of his mouth daintily. "Oh trust me, Herr Soldat. You vill not be disappointed. Miss Olga sings zem...ah country songs you people love so much. Like ze Patsy Cline und Dottie Vest." Solly just grumbled in reply. What did that Nazi fairy know about country music? The lights dimmed and a spotlight shown on the stage, illuminating the cheap velvet curtains. A rail thin man in a white and black suit came out on stage and walked up to the microphone, tapping it to see if it was working. "Good evening ladies and gentlemen," the MC said in a pleasant voice that reminded Solly of Bing Crosby, but sounded tinny over the speakers. "On the behalf of the management and myself, we thank you for coming to the Black Mesa Dining Hall and hope you have enjoyed your stay." At this, Solly wanted to give the man a piece of his mind about his service, but a stern look from the doctor made him bite his tongue. "Now without further ado," the MC continued. "Your entertainment for tonight. Please give a warm welcome to the talented Russian beauty: Olga Mannlova." A piano began to play as the meager audience clapped, the curtain opening slowly, revealing the singer as she stepped gingerly to the microphone after the MC left. To Solly, she looked exactly like Marilyn Monroe...if she was a linebacker for the Green Bay Packers. She wore a sparkly pink, strapless dress with matching gloves and jewelry, her bleached blonde hair done perfectly into a wavy bob. A sapphire-blue eye seemed to catch the American in her gaze as she took a deep breath. "Crazy..." Olga sang huskily. "I'm crazy for feeling...so lonely. I'm crazy. Crazy for feeling...so blue..." The spotlight followed her as she kept singing, stepping down from the stage to weave between the tables. Occasionally, she would stop and flirt a little with a man, which was usually met with cold looks from their wives. But Olga had locked onto the table with Soldier and Medic, the former caught in her thick eyelashed cross-hairs. "Oh mein gott, she's coming zis way!" Medic squealed as he quickly looked himself over in a spoon. "Do I look presentable, Herr Soldat?" Solly didn't reply, his mouth having suddenly gone dry. His body tensed and his heart hammered in his chest, causing him to break out in a sweat. The large woman was coming closer, her voice so dark and mysterious that it made him shudder uncomfortably. A feeling of blood rushing from his face down to his groin and Solly hoped to God that he wasn't going to give this Olga Mann-Loving-Commie a belt buckle salute. The spotlight shone on their table and Solly looked up, finding himself face to face with Olga. She reached out a hand and stroked the man's chin seductively as she finished up the song, brushing a silken finger up his cheek. She then leaned in close, her breath tickling Soldier's ear. "Come see me after show," Olga whispered with that same seduction she put into the song and left, striding back to the stage to finish her set. By now, poor Medic was nearly foaming at the mouth with ecstasy as he shook Soldier's arm like a dog on a piece of meat. "She spoke to you! She touched you! Tell me what it felt like, lucky lucky Soldat!" Solly had drifted back into reality and was obviously annoyed with the German trying to pull his arm off. "Get off me, stupid Kraut!" He snarled, slapping Medic's hands with the Disciplinary Action, (kept on him at all times) attempting to hide the blush forming on his cheeks. "She just said, 'Thank You for coming.' Nothing more. Now settle down and watch the rest of the show." He continued to watch Olga with a transfixed expression, anxiously awaiting for the end to see what the chanteuse had in store for him. -----------------break because i want to------------------------------------- "Herr Soldat, aren't you coming?" Medic asked as he put on his jacket. The set had ended and most of the crowd had left already, and the bussers were clearing up the tables for tomorrow. "Yes, but I...uh...need to go use the restroom." Soldier muttered as he straightened out the tuxedo. "Vant me to vait outside for you?" "In the truck," Soldier hastily replied. "Don't leave without me or I'll string you up like we did to your buddies at the Nuremburg trials." Medic shot Soldier a scathing look as he walked off. "Zat vas rude and uncalled for! I am deeply offended, schweinhund!!" He snapped and stormed out the door. Solly went down a hallway and past the restrooms, coming to a door with Olga's name on it. Taking a deep breath, he rapped sharply at the door, hoping that he wasn't interrupting the woman. With a creak, the door opened and Olga stood in front of him, still dressed. "I thought you were not going to...come," She said with a sly smile dancing on her red lips. Olga let the man in and went to her vanity where two martini glasses and a bottle of vodka sat. "Please make yourself comfortable." Solly gave a nod and took off the restrictive tuxedo jacket, hanging it on a coat rack in the corner. The room was quite large for what he expected as he took a seat on a small vintage couch. "So...have you been performing long?" He asked, trying to start a conversation although it sounded awkward. "For a little while," Olga replied as she took off her jewelry. "It is more of...how you say job that bring extra money?" She turned and poured the vodka into the glasses. "Care to share drink with Olga?" "I'm...I'm not thirsty, Ma'am." "Please. I insist." She stood up and brought the glasses over, handing one to Soldier as she sat down next to him. "You are in military, yes?" This seemed to puff up Soldier's ego. "I am. Stormed the beaches of Normandy on D-Day and put a boot so far up Hitler's ass he threw up the laces." Olga giggled at this. "How interesting. Would have been sight to see. Does brave American soldier have name?" She took a sip of the vodka, anticipating the man's next move. "Just call me Mr. Doe," Soldier replied and he took a swig of the vodka. What felt like a rocket went off in him as every inch from his stomach to his mouth burned like hellfire and every hair stood up on his skin. "J-Jesus lady..." He sputtered. "What's in this firewater?" He began to perspire again, but Olga just sat there on the couch calmly, a demure smile on her face. "Mister Doe, it is only harmless vodka. It burns first, but feel better in little while." As if Olga said magic words of some sort, the burning stopped and Soldier felt his body grow slack. "Guess I'm not really used to that strong of alcohol," he slurred. "Don't worry, Mister Doe. Takes time to develop taste." Olga had finished her drink and she set the glass on the floor. "That shirt dreadfully tight on you. Mind if I take it off?" Before the man could say anything, large fingers nimbly began to undo the buttons to the dress shirt, the tie unloosened from his neck. She gave a small gasp when the opened shirt revealed well defined muscles. "You work out." "Yes...Ma'am. Every...morning." The vodka's effects were beginning to affect Soldier's mind, turning everything aside from Olga into a haze. With a bit of guidance, he pulled the woman's face close to him, kissing her luscious red lips as he caressed her strong broad shoulders and thick neck. Olga returned this by moving her hands along Soldier's chest and sides, surprised at how the meat and fat combined to make him hard, yet pliable to the touch. She quickly pulled away, panting slightly as she stared into the soldier's eyes. "Mister Doe..." She pushed him down onto the couch, laying him down, and undone the man's trousers. Olga's thumb stroked the man's cock through his underwear and he let out a small moan as he grabbed her hair. Olga quickly removed his hand and laid it gently on his stomach, teasing his pants off. "Olga..." Solly growled as she continued to fondle his growing erection. "Oh Olga..." "Shh..." Olga lifted a finger and pressed it on Solly's lips. "Let me...perform." She took out the man's dick and held it in her hand, feeling the organ twitch slightly in her palm. With a steady rhythm, she began to pump on him, relishing every moan and gasp. When she felt he'd been primed, Olga bent down and took Solly into her mouth, shivering as the heady smell and bitter taste of him pleasured her senses. "Nng...Fuck...ah!" Soldier wheezed as the woman sucked on him. He had to admit that it had been a long time since he saw a person of the opposite gender, and this was a welcome event that he wanted to savour greatly. The woman kept on pleasuring him until he hit climax, watching as his seed spilled out of her mouth and down her chin. "I'm...sorry..." "No need to be," Olga replied as she wiped it off with a finger and licked it off. The woman rose slowly to her feet, looking down hungrily at the soldier and reaching a hand to her back. The sound of a zipper was heard, and the dress dropped off her body. Solly gazed up at her, instantly aroused again as he heard the zipper, but it turned to fear and disgust as his eyes traveled down. "What...what the hell? WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!" He tried to look away, but the throbbing erection straining through the lace panties was already burned into his mind. "What is wrong, Mister Doe?" 'Olga' asked innocently, a devilish smile taking over his face. "I have not finished our private performance yet." "Get...Get the hell away from me!" Solly yelled as he tried to move, but his body wouldn't respond. "Get the fuck away from me you commie faggot!" 'Olga', who was actually the Heavy Weapons Guy from RED, strode casually over to the vanity again and dug into the drawer, coming back with a tube of personal lubricant. He discarded his panties and began to apply the lube generously to his member, not wanting to hurt Solly too much. "Don't come near me!" Solly continued to curse, but Heavy ignored his threats and prepared him. "What the fuck...stop! Stop it! I command you to stop!" He grit his teeth as a lubed finger was inserted into his rectum, giving him a mix of pain and pleasure never experienced. "Mister Doe say he does not like, but expression says otherwise..." Heavy chuckled as he pulled out. Without another word, he thrust into Solly, slow and steady just like the handjob. He found great pleasure in listening to the man whimper and whine as he was being fucked, if only he showed such a soft side during battle. When the climax had passed, both men laid tangled around each other on the couch. "I hate you," Soldier muttered angrily as feeling returned to his body. He dressed himself hurriedly, pausing when he got too dizzy. "But you enjoyed it," Heavy grinned. "I have not made any partner make as much noise as you did." "Fuck you, you commie fag," Soldier replied as he spat on the floor. "I'll have a rocket waiting for you." He placed his hand on the door when he stopped, shook his head, then flounced out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He tried to make himself look suitable when he reached Engineer's truck, a very cross Medic waiting in the driver's seat. "About time you show up...I vas vaiting for over an hour," Medic grumbled when Solly jumped in and shut the door. "I...I had a lot of work," Solly muttered, not wanting to look at the doctor. "Vell, it sounds like a problem. Vant me to examine you ven ve return to base?" "Just shut up and drive, cupcake." Medic just rolled his eyes and started the truck, the radio turning on to a fading song: "I'm Crazy for trying...Crazy for crying...Crazy for loving you..."(Quality control: For the love of god, GET A BETA.Fic and Afic are closed to you until such.to go /workshop/.)
Whether the story was supposed to be about Soldier being confronted with his closeted homosexuality or just about Soldier being so stupid that he can't tell that his 6'5", 350-pound, baritone-voiced teammate is disguised as a woman in front of him, making this an explicitly non-con fic sort of turned it into an exercise in bad taste, for me. It wasn't campy or descriptive enough to be porn comedy, and you didn't spend enough time and effort focusing on Soldier and Heavy's feelings(? inner conflict?) to make it 'work' as anything deeper.
Wow, this is just as offensive as your mpreg fic. I think I'm sensing a pattern here. How old are you anyway, Toki?
Wow, did you just take a character (well, a stage persona of Valve's character anyway) that I created to be seductive and desirable despite being an overwhelmingly obvious drag queen and use her to write a ridiculously offensive deceptive tranny/gay rapist fic? Way to go there, slugger!
what is going on in this thread I am very confused send help
sage
Yikes. This appears to be a bizarre (not to mention creepily flippant) attempt at an extended "your mouth says no but your body says yes" yaoi-flavored rape joke. That huge mess aside, there were quite a few grammatically awkward sentences and just general clumsy writing. I would work on these nuts and bolts (chosen subject matter being a whole other issue).
Dreadful. I can't tell you how disheartening this is. Your grammar is alright, but you just don't have the plot nor the tact to execute your abilities. If this and your previous work are any indication, you are not mature enough to handle sexual topics. Not only that, but you dragged someone else's creation into this! That's despicable! Let's talk more about your other issues at hand, as others will continue to hammer harder the major, glaring flaws with this piece. First of all--Black Mesa Dining Hall? That's distracting. Unless you have a piece of technology in your hands and you want to make a crack at other Valve games, do not mention other technology companies. Not Black Mesa, and certainly not Aperture Science. Second--do not be cute with your breaks. Just break. ---. Done. We get it. There had to be an easier way to reveal Olga's identity to the audience, even if we already knew. Don't just drop his title and team! Describe! Converse! Engage! We're reading, so paint us a picture. Show, don't tell. Additionally, your pacing could use some work. For rape being such a climactic event (pardon the pun), it is remarkably short. This should be obvious, but rape is a horrifying crime. If you are going to write about it, show the victim's suffering and confusion. Don't just say "Well, it pushed the right buttons, but.." Just no! Grab the audience by the collar and give them a good shake. Leave them spinning! If you are not banned for this, stop writing for the adult section. Divorce yourself from these topics. You do not have the grace to pull them off. There's a lot more to write about than just sex and sexual variants.
Toki, I want to love you for determination and your upbeat attitude, but you have got to start taking responsibility for the content of your stories. You write one instalment after another, one fic after another, about transpeople and every single time your audience tells you that what you're writing is ignorant, insensitive, and ultimately offensive. Understand that this happens sometimes; we can't each have a lot of life experience with every minority group in the world, and sometimes it's hard to tell whether or not you've learned enough through your limited exposure to portray them well. When this happens, there are two simple, positive ways to handle it. Both ways require that you first accept that you don't have the knowledge and skills necessary at the time to portray the subject matter that you're trying to play. a) Put the project on hold so that you can better prepare yourself, through extensive research and practise, to write the story in an informed and sensitive manner, or b) Scrap the story and pursue writing about something that you know more about. By now, the only thing I can recommend for you is that you stop writing about transgenders, or intersex people, in fact, I'd be most comfortable if you didn't even write about gays, because you don't know what you're talking about, and you don't have the tact or conscientiousness to make up for what you don't know. If think you really, really need to write about queer topics, then prove that it's important to you by doing your homework and showing it in your writing. But whatever you do, do not keep throwing these poor people around as excuses and plot devices, like they're not people at all. The queer community puts up with enough ignorance and abuse already.
I am enjoying the comments immensely. Much more than the actual writing.