Chapter 17 - Hedonism (Part 2) Sex, Drugs, and Slobs

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          You ask for someone who has been here for three days. The view changes to a dimly lit room. There are three bodies in the room, but only one of them is a human visitor. A young man just leaving the last years of teenage youth.  He had his shirt off, and pants undone. He was sitting on a soft cushion with his back against the wall. Just in front of him was a tall ornate hookah, tube in hand he sucked in every so often before letting out rings of smoke. 

            Next to him on either side were ‘female’ caretakers. One with striking red hair was leaning against the man’s shoulder, while the other with fairer pink hair was over his manhood giving him a slow relaxing oral service.  Judging by the white stains on either woman, and disheveled appearance of their reaming clothes, they had already gotten through the more pressing sexual tension of the youth and were now just helping him enjoy the afterglow. 

          “And then…” The male lets out the last of the smoke in his mouth, “Because Amir walked out we all had to stay even later.” 

          “That’s awful.” The caretaker (with her mouth free) says in perfectly fabricated sympathy. 

          “Yeah.” The young man’s hand tightening around the metal end of the hookah tube. “Keith didn’t care he lives for that office, but David has a family at home, and my final exams were in six hours.”

          “I’m sorry.” The fiery haired caretaker says, as she softly rubs her head against his chest.

          The man looks down at the back of her head and his frown turns to a smile. It reminds you of an owner who sees their dog after a long day at work. He begins to pat her head as he talks. 

           “Weeks worth of work had to be done in one night, all because Amir messed up and Keith made us cover his ass.” He takes in a small lungful of the smoke, before letting half of it out in a long-contended sigh.

           “We got it done though, four hours later. I didn’t even try to get any sleep after that. I did some last-minute cramming.” He blew a large ring of smoke, “Had a breakfast of two expressos.” Another large ring. “And managed to be the only one in class to get a perfect score on the final.”

          The caretaker looks up at him with a look of amazed surprise and admiration, “That’s amazing, you’re incredible.”

          “…Thanks.” The man says quietly, “I know you. you probably are paid to say something like that to people or whatever but it was nice to hear at least one person say that.”

          “I meant it.” The caretaker says with such a “genuine” aura that would put a Hollywood actor to shame. “You really did something amazing.”

          The man’s face turns red and he blushes once more. He fiddles with the end of the hookah for a few seconds before talking again, 

          “I didn’t get the promotion though, urgh Keith gave it to Amir anyway.” 

          The caretaker shook her head again sadly.

          “Yeah all because ahh, he’s the oldest. Senile more like it.” 

          The caretaker laughs, or more specifically your AI sends the signal for the body of the caretaker to laugh.

          “Whatever.” The man says putting his hand on the head of the pink-haired caretaker’s  around his cock and guiding her at the end. “They can keep that shitty little office, one more year until I graduate then I’m gone.”

          His words are ragged at the end, and his hips lift up as he climaxes down the soft throat of the caretaker who managed to get one last orgasm out of him.

         When he’s done he falls back downs even farther on the wall. He tries to take another inhalation from the hookah, but his breath is too uneven and he coughs it back up a second later. 

          “You work so hard, you deserve to relax.” The more vocal caretaker says to him, while the other cleaned the last of his deflating member off before curling submissively around his . The man just nodded. 

          “Do you want me to get you something a little better?” She nods over to the hookah.

          The man offers a half-hearted shrug. 
 
          The caretaker makes an expression that was half hesitant and half pleading on his behalf, by every indication only wanting what was best for the man.

          “…Alright, just a bit.” He relents.

          Before he can change his mind, the fiery-red caretaker gently stands, removes the current bowl and tray on the hookah, and replaces it from another on a shelf in the side of the room.   She sits back in her place next to the man, as they both give a moment for the coals to burn. If the man had been paying closer attention he may have noted that the ‘woman’ had handled the hot coals effortlessly with her bare hands.

          “I’m supposed to be the responsible one.” He suddenly began to ramble, still lazily laying halfway down the wall. “I had to be the one to get perfect grades in high school while on the sports team.”  The woman stroked the top of his hair, as he continued on.  “I had to be the one who got into the best college, and I had to be the one to keep a full-time job during. ‘Thousands of people graduate every year with a 4.0, you’ll be the one with job experience.’” He mocked

          He took a small inhale from the fresh mix from the hookah, and he sighed in contentment.

          “Ah…Fuck that’s good” He moaned putting his lips around to get a stronger drag, and moaned again.  The caretaker continued to stroke his head, letting the troubled young man get his words out.

          “He watches my every moment, and if I slip for a second he gives me hell. But when I am perfect, I won’t even get a good job. Not one time, not once.” His words begin to slur.  “Meanwhile my sis half fails her way through her classes and he give her anything she wants. Gave her this trip. The only reason I’m here…” He drifts, it seems he’s not fully awake any longer. More like in a daydream. “…here is because he made me. Told me I couldn’t do anything, just had to keep an eye on her.”

          As he takes one massive drag from the silver tip. While most of his body sags bonelessly as the chemicals allow his every muscle relax in a soft puddle of contentment, there is one exception. 

          The Red-haired caretaker puts her hand around the man’s slicked wet cock. A moment ago deflated, it now stands achingly hard and twitching thanks to the vitality and sensitivity compounds the man is taking in. She begins to stroke him up and down hypnotically as he moans once more/ 

          As the last of his strength and tension eases out of him, the hookah tube falls from his mouth. The caretaker lifts it up and places it directly between his lips, leaning over and nipping at his ear she whispers huskily,

          “Breath deep.”

          The man obeys, breathing  and cumming lazily around her hand. This doesn’t diminish its hardness however and she keeps stroking his sensitive member.

           The caretaker doesn’t take the tube away as he breaths more and more of the thick euphoric smoke into his brain.

          She keeps kissing and bitting at his neck and his head lolls to the side, her voice quiet saying 

          “You do such good job, and you deserve this. You are meant to relax.”

          He smiles.

 

          ……………………………..

          

          You leave him to his seemingly well-deserved relaxation and turn your computer to view someone else. He mentioned coming with a sister?

          In stark contrast to the small, quiet, dimly lit room you were watching before this room is large, obnoxiously lit in changing bright neon floor tiles, and is playing music so loud that it shakes the view of your camera. 

          “Nightclub” might be a bit of a misnomer as it is hardly mid-morning right now, but your services are 24 hours. And what business does the sun outside have with your guest’s fun? 

          This is one of your less ‘gimmicky’ dance clubs,  on the upper floors and meant for first time visitors. Nothing more than a stage for a DJ, drink and light narcotic bars on either side wall, and a large floor for your visitors to ‘mingle’.

          Right now, the line between dancing and soft orgy has blurred a bit. Some people hop up and down to the beat. Some people get close and personal with their dance moves. And some young girls have jumped onto the stage to begun to strip.

          You can’t spot a single worn shirt in the room among either the male or female population.  And there are so many bodies on the floor, who can really be blamed for brushing rather roughly against, and staying like that for a minute or so. 

          Not that anyone really minds the contact, the bar is openly selling ecstasy and other similar sensitivity enhancers. One such middle aged visitor seems to be experiencing the effects of them right now as she is laying across a back wall feeling her own body up and down again, a distinct look of satisfaction on her face. From her advanced age this is probably the first time in a long while she hasn’t been racked with joint pain.

          But she is not the guest you are looking for, and you ask your AI to highlight all the guests in the night club. Not everyone there is real of course, most of them of caretakers dressed and acting the part of other visitors. 

          Your arcology only offers it’s services to a tragically limited section of the outside world, meaning that throughout the year you might only have a few dozen or so guest staying in the top layer. But no one wants to be the only person to step foot on the dance floor, or the only person in a restaurant. People may feel too self-conscious on their own, so it’s far easier to accept their own private desires when a crowd of ‘people’ do the same without shame.

          As it stands, of the hundred or so bodies moving along the dance floor, three of them are currently marked as human.

          One is the previously mentioned woman, who has now moved on to some public masturbation.

          One is a younger man in the center of the dance floor, enjoying some applause for his ‘breakdancing.’

          And the last is a young girl paired off to the side of one the room’s bars. 

          Well saying ‘by the bar’ was being polite. She’s bent over the bar as a very muscular caretaker, fucks her roughly from behind. The Caretaker has his hand over her hair and was nearly banging her head through the   the thick wooden bar with every thrust. She didn’t seem to mind though, she’s smiling and is almost certainly too high to feel any real pain, only an intensity to her sex. 

          You watch for a brief minute as there pace becomes rougher and rougher until finally the caretaker hilts himself deep and their bodies both shake in mutual orgasm.

          Without missing a beat, she spins around so her back leans against the bar, and her legs wrap around the waist of the man still inside her. She grabs a full bottle from behind the bar and drenches her bare chest with alcohol.

          Once she starts to pull him in closer with the strength of her legs, the man bends over at the waist to lick at the drink covering her tits. She moans and soon they have begun their rough sex once more. 

          From the amount of sweat that would rival a tired warhorse covering the caretaker, this isn’t the first bout of ‘lovemaking’ the two of them have experienced today. And from the fiercely lustful gaze of the female guest, it isn’t near to last. 

 

…………………………

 

 

          Moving on you ask your AI to give you a view of someone who has been here for a full week.


          "Mmph Mph BURP! hah-ha, more!"

          Ah, the screen fills with the sight of the young celebrity Haley Ruth.

          One of your favorite returning visitors. She is well known not just to you, but the whole world.

         Haley Ruth: Winning the European junior’s talent show at age eight, nine, and ten. Starring in several roles as a television actor from eleven to fourteen. Moving on to movies in her later teens, and winning an Oscar. Now her current career had her balancing the role of both a singer, and model.  On tours from New York, To Moscow, To Rome, To Paris had Young Haley's solo shows bought out  months in advance by her elated fans. 

          And she really was quite good, walking onto stage in a sleek hand stitched dress, nothing to vulgar of course. She would parade down the stage, outfits hanging tightly on her slim frame. All the while singing with a voice that would calm the rage of even the most savage of wild beasts. 

          Haley Ruth, world idol.
Her skin light and free of blemish.
Her figure youthful and healthy, maintained.
Eyes full of joy for the world, and free of malice.
Sponsor of several drug rehabilitation centers.
Wealth spent in philanthropy.
Humble in interviews despite her status.
Friendly to fans, treating each and every one she meets with respect.

          Haley Ruth, world Idol loved by all...for ten months out of the year. Like clockwork every year for the last three she would take an eight-week period of absence from the world stage, with only the most minor of farewells.Then just as suddenly she'd return, as if the missing period had never occurred. She gently refused all question to the subject of her absence. 

          There was much speculation to the cause of these hiatuses. During the first there was panic, by nearly the entire world to find one of its last beacons of fame. But now during the fourth consistent period of seeming to fall off the earth, the rumors and speculations had grown to new heights. 

 
          The more mild of her fans supplied they were simple staycations to recharge her mental batteries.
          Others speculated that she spent time in the more degenerated regions of the world helping  the live of the less fortunate. She was just to humble to admit to it.
          Speculations to supply she spent time with an estranged family.
          Times in rehab.
          Mental breaks hidden from public eye.
          Abduction by governments.
          Abductions by aliens.
          Abduction by the shoe-shiners.

 

          But none could guess the state young Haley was in now.

          “Brap- another another!”

 
         Haley Ruth, four year visoter to your little Arcology. 
Once sweet face, now filled to the brim with food and spewing crumbs as she screamed for more.
Hair unkept and unwashed, a mix of colors from the food that's gotten stuck in it.
Still wearing a dress, but it was no longer as fine. If it wasn't already ruined by the food and sweat stains it would be by the massive hole in the center that ripped open to fit her bloated stomach through.
Her skin dirty and starting to form pimples, a lack of bathing and eating the food she was eating would do that to you.
Her eyes, dilated with euphoria.Or perhaps the dilation was a side effect of the drugs running through her system, cocktails of heroin, cocaine, meth, stomach relaxants, the list went on.

          "Ah! Hurry- 'namh' bitch!" She screamed shoving a creampuff in her mouth. Nearly immediately an older female caretaker wheels in a serving cart filled in with a fresh batch of sweets.

          Without pause Haley grabs the caretaker by the hair and pulls her to the ground. 

          "Know who I am? Count yourself lucky I let you like my cunt you fucking slave."

          The  abused caretaker makes a mimicked voice of perfect meekness, and lifts up the bloated hard mass that is Haley's stomach to get at and lick the sweaty lower folds beneath.  The pop idol moans, and lets loose a fart right next to the caretaker’s face. Not shamed in the least she moves on to her new array of food.

          With her left hand she grabs a cheeseburger and in the right she grabs into a massive red cake. Without hesitance she shoves both of them into her mouth at once- smearing half of it on her own cheeks and forcing the rest into her stretched stomach and gullet.

 
          She was one of your favorites indeed. For the last near half decade now, Haley would come in secret, book herself a room and stay there for the rest of the two months.

          Like her last trips she hasn't left her room since she arrived, only stuffed herself like mad, abused her caretaker, and slept. Even basic hyenine has fallen by the side judging from the brown and black stains you can see at the back of her dress, and you can nearly smell her room from here. 

          Her first year her weight went from 82-183, the second 79-215, the third 77-251, and this yeah, she started at a meager 74. You hope by the end she'll be able to break three hundred.    You often wondered why Haley came here. 

          Was her persona on the outside and act, only there to make money to fund her trips here?
          Was this a more complex form of bulimia? Like a model who would eat a feast only to willingly vomit it up after?
          Was this her way of resisting temptation on the outside? The only way to maintain her physic and attitude is to drown herself in her vices? 10 months of the purity of a maiden, 2 months the embodiment of filth and greed?

 Or perhaps most simply she just needed some time to relax. Some time to make herself happy without outside judgement.

          Whatever the case it would always end the same. As requested an alarm would sound when the two months of debauchery had passed. Blank faced, she would walk her way to a purifying tank, pull off the sticky  stained dress she was wearing, and rest in the tank. Hours later when she was restored to the figure she had when arriving, she'd put on a fresh dress. Matters settled and without another word, she'd depart back to the world’s view to be there idol.

 
          Once you watched her preform a show just a scant few hours after leaving you Archology. And just as always, she was beautifully, talented and humble preforming a six-hour show by herself. A stark contrast to the dirty, spoiled, hog of a woman who could hardly muster the energy to bring food to her own mouth or scream for a "slave to lick her 'dirty shithole" faster. 

          You swap off the camera allowing Haley to enjoy her privacy once more. Perhaps one day she might even reach the 2nd or 3rd level.



(To be continued....)
 