AnimeCon Harem 6: Playing Decoy

Stephanie was sitting in Brian’s lap in the middle of a packed panel room at the convention, and someone had set her on fire. She was burning with desire from the top of her sex-addled head all the way down to her toes, flames curling with delight as she felt Brian plant the first of a series of slow, savory kisses along her neck. Roiling pink heat seemed to blaze from every inch of her body as though she’d been doused with gasoline arousal, but no one around her seemed to notice. It was surreal to her how no one else was reacting to this incredible moment, how the attention of everyone else remained on the distant, droning words of those two voice actors speaking into their microphones.

Just minutes ago, she’d been crying because she thought she’d somehow messed up and lost him for good. It had felt like her inner flame had extinguished, like her very soul had gone dark. Those feelings of despair and sadness reared up inside her like a night-time thicket of self-doubt, ugly and gnarled, the dry old growth of regret and fear… and then, Brian returned and promptly lit everything within her on fire. Ignited all of it into kindling to feed a pink flame that burned brighter than it ever had before.

The saying, ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder,’ isn’t something that can ever be understood until it’s really FELT, Stephanie decided, biting her lip. I’ve had a taste of Brian, and a taste of going without, and… everything’s just so clear to me now. I NEED him in my life.

Yesterday, when she’d daringly told him I’m ready for anything you can throw at me, he’d answered her perfectly with a surprise kiss. She wasn’t able to interpret Brian’s if you do that, I might not be able to hold back as a warning, anymore. After ruminating over their unique situation all day and all night—and even more importantly, after her talks with Kelly—Brian’s words now instead seemed like open provocation!

I want him to take me. I NEED him. Even if he’s somehow able to hold out longer—I can’t! Her legs weren’t even closed now, and when she couldn’t bear it any more she was sharply rocking her hips to rub her sex against the thigh she was riding. Brian wasn’t trying to stop her, either—he was suckling her neck in a way that was making her feel molten heat course through her body. Every few unsteady breaths when she pressed herself down against him, he was bouncing her entire body up slightly on his leg, in time with her own eager movements. Not too fast, of course, as they didn’t want to draw attention to themselves. But, at the same time... it wasn’t fast enough. Need was blossoming brilliantly inside of her.

I want him to fuck me. I want him to fuck me. I want him to fuck me, Stephanie’s mind was going pink with desire. If it feels anything at all like this… I WANT HIM TO FUCK ME! Her self-control was wavering, and she was just about to grind herself against him without care of the consequences or worrying whoever might notice, when she felt his hands clamp down on her. Prevented from bucking harder, she trembled against his grip. Even that sudden restriction of his hands pinning her against him was so sexy it was difficult to endure.

“Yes, I have a question for Vic,” the girl in the cloak beside them called out. Stephanie froze, sheepishly remembering they were in a very crowded room, in the middle of a panel hosted by famous voice actors.

“When you were recording the voice for Cedric Edifice, and you had those intimate lines for the character Wintry Rumball—was it weird interacting with her voice actress?”

“Oh, it was so weird,” Vic joked, eliciting several squeals from his fangirls. “But, no, seriously—I definitely know which lines you mean, and Wintry’s English voice actress Katie Pane was very understanding and professional in all the takes we had to do—”

“Steph?” Brian whispered.

“Y-yes?” She asked in a hushed voice, still dazed as liquid pink seemed to blaze across enormous swathes of her brain.

“Can you grab my helmet? It’s under our chair.”

“Okay,” She fumbled beneath them slightly, almost losing her balance because of the way she was perched on his thigh. As she glanced around the room, she saw everyone was sitting very still, apparently paying close attention to whatever story Vic Magnolia was relating. “A-are we leaving?”

“Well… We don’t have to. If you rest my helmet in your lap...” Brian murmured in her ear. “...no one’ll be able to tell when I’m fingering you.”

* * *

“Alright, everybody! It’s past time! It’s twelve o‘ seven—so, everyone that’s gonna make it is here, and we’re heading out!”

The ringleader taking charge of the Hero Hero Haruki meetup was a villainess all the goofy Darkmask minions energetically addressed as ‘Akari D?kumasuku-sama,’ or sometimes simply as ‘the boss.’ Rather than their simple fabric bodysuit with the cartoonish spine and ribs pattern, this girl’s ensemble featured a plunging neckline fashioned as the crossed bones of a Jolly Roger, and in lieu of an ordinary skull helmet, she wore a teased out red wig with a tiara-like circlet of large fake rubies.

While the dozens of Darkmasks in various disguises and the scattering of costumed heroes turned their attention to the Akari cosplayer, Kelly maneuvered the Darkmask she’d singled out towards the edge of the gathering. She needed to position herself so she could also see their suspected stalker, the Magical Doll Himari who suspiciously seemed to have taken possession of Brian’s phone. Thankfully, Kelly’s faux-Brian—the Darkmask who, like Brian, had a plastic helmet, real gloves, and an actual utility belt—became strangely cooperative and compliant when Kelly revealed she was using him to play a prank on someone.

“We have a secret photoshoot location downtown, and this year, we’re bringing with us… the evil crimson light!” At the Akari’s enthusiastic gesture, one of the nearby Darkmask minions lifted a battered cardboard box up above his head. It was dusty old thing that looked like it’d been retrieved from someone’s attic—snowflakes and a waving Santa Claus were printed on the faded side. Polite applause and a few cheers sounded out.

“Merry Christmas!” one of the Darkmasks cheered in a high-pitched voice.

“Sh-shut up,” the Akari flustered, angrily waving for her minion to lower the box again. “That’s just the box I have them in, okay?”

“Uhh… what’s in the box?” One of the caped heroes asked.

“The evil crimson light,” Another hero replied smartly, dramatically adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose with his middle finger. “It’s like you’re not even listening.”

“And that is…?”

“No idea,” the hero wearing glasses shrugged.

“Do you know where the photoshoot’s gonna be?” Kelly asked the Darkmask whose arm she was clinging to. Despite how similar they appeared at first glance, this guy and Brian were really nothing alike, and she couldn’t help but worry that her impromptu decoy would be seen through in no time at all. Rather than a bodysuit that snugly clung to splendid abdominal muscles, this guy was kind of flabby. Even his posture wasn’t as good as Brian’s—he was slouching way too much.

“No, I don’t know,” he shook his head. His muffled voice was all wrong, too—it sounded like there was some stuffy dweeb under that helmet. “Are you coming, too?”

“Of course,” Kelly forced a charming smile. “Wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

In an enormous group, the assembled Darkmasks and the small handful of heroes trooped together out through the sets of double-doors into the plaza outside the convention center, and then continued on, heading down the city sidewalk for several blocks. As they walked, Kelly made meaningless small talk with the Darkmask she was holding hands with, not failing to note the Magical Doll Himari shadowing their Hero Hero Haruki group from a short distance away.

“Do you know where your friend got this Komari-mart bag?” the faux-Brian asked, lifting the plastic grocery bag up again to check it out.

“He made it,” Kelly said. “Think he said he used a stencil to put the logo on. Do you want it?”

“Hell yeah,” the Darkmask answered, jerking his head towards her. “For real? Can I keep it?”

“Keep your helmet on ‘till I can play a... trick on this certain someone, and it’s all yours,” Kelly promised. It’s just a plastic bag, after all. Even if he did stencil it himself, it couldn’t have been THAT hard, right?

Their secret destination turned out to be one of the multi-level parking garages near the convention center. The scattered group all headed down to a basement sublevel, and then congregated around the Akari Dakumasuku cosplayer as she opened up the battered Christmas box. Inside were a dozen squat, oversized light-bulbs—red-tinted exterior lamps, presumably once part of someone’s Christmas decorations.

“Okay, listen up, everyone!” Akari commanded. “The far side of the garage over there is all concrete, with support girders and cool pipes and stuff! So long as we replace their white bulbs with our evil crimson light, it’s perfect for Locus Solus, the super secret D?kumasuku lair!”

The area she indicated along the far wall featured a small curb and otherwise had a utilitarian, industrial look. Even more importantly, it didn’t have painted spaces for cars to park—only a no parking sign. So long as they didn’t take any wide-angled shots, none of the various vehicles filling the parking garage to capacity nearby would be visible.

“Wait a minute,” the skeptical caped hero from before spoke up. “Isn’t this… sorta bordering on vandalism? Do we even have to switch the bulbs? Can’t we just post-process all the photos with a red filter, or something?”

“Hashtag no filter,” his glasses-wearing buddy joked back. “C’mon, besides—don’t you wanna see how many Skullfies it takes to change a lightbulb?”

They watched as a Darkmask minion crouched down to allow another Darkmask to climb onto his shoulders. The pair of Darkmasks then tottered unsteadily in the direction of the first overhead light. Several others were preparing to do the same, setting aside their purses, aprons, wigs, straw hats, and other random disguise pieces aside in small piles beside the worn cardboard box.

Kelly reluctantly freed her faux-Brian Darkmask to assist the others in removing the original lights—after all, the bulbs throughout this underground level of the parking garage were hot from always remaining on, and he was one of the few wearing actual gloves. Stepping off to the side out of everyone’s way near the row of cars, Kelly tried to appear like she was caught up in watching the cosplayers’ antics with amusement. She didn’t spare a glance when the Magical Doll Himari nonchalantly ambled over to stand beside her—the two girls weren’t the only odd ones out during the meetup; someone’s friend in a Shinobi Souls cosplay had tagged along, and there were four others in plain clothes toting bags and cameras.

“I just love your outfit,” the Himari finally spoke up, sidling up closer to Kelly. “Is it burando?”

Just as Kelly turned to meet the mysterious Magical Doll Himari cosplayer who’d been discreetly eyeing her and the faux-Brian face-to-face for the first time—one of the nearby overhead lights was successfully unscrewed by a pair of Darkmasks. Half of the area they stood in plunged into sudden darkness, casting a sinister contrast of shadows across this Himari girl’s face.

“It is,” Kelly smiled serenely at her. “It’s Noblesse Oblique.”

“Noblesse Oblique…” the Himari echoed, and although Kelly couldn’t clearly see her eyes, the Magical Doll Himari wore a rigid smile and seemed to be appraising more than just the gothic lolita outfit. “It’s very nice—I’m impressed! It’s such a shame though, it doesn’t seem to fit you, like, at all.”

“Oh, you noticed?” With a sputter of burning red light, the nearby pair of Darkmasks screwed in the first of the red bulbs, and Kelly’s untroubled smile slowly widened into a wicked grin. “That’s okay, though—this outfit was never meant for me.”

“Hah, yeah. Clearly,” the Himari gave out a brisk laugh as they both turned back towards the somewhat comical caper the Darkmasks were trying to pull off. Several more sections of the parking garage went dark, and several more red bulbs took their place. Intended more for decorative holiday purposes, they were nowhere near as bright as the parking garage’s original ones, and outside their immediate vicinity that was bathed in red light, it was difficult to see down the aisles or between the rows of cars at all.

The outfit was probably meant for YOU… wasn’t it? Kelly was almost completely sure this Himari was in fact Chloe. The probing text Brian received this morning, that unlikely incident with Stephanie being sent who knows where, and then his phone likely being stolen by this girl… who else could she be?

“Do you know that Darkmask cosplayer?” the Himari asked, waving in the direction of the one Kelly had been walking with. “Over there, that one?”

“The one with the plastic helmet?” Kelly asked. “The one who’s ‘bout to drop that bulb?”

The sound of shattering glass resounded, turning the heads of everyone at the Hero Hero Haruki meetup and sending everyone silent for a moment. Then, everyone tried speaking at once.

“Shit!”

“Hey, you okay, man?”

“You—you idiots! Was that one of the garage’s lights, or one of mine?!”

“Don’t touch it, stupid! You’ll cut yourself!”

“...Yeah,” the Himari confirmed, sounding almost pleased. “That one.”

“Nope, don’t know him!” Kelly laughed. “Met him like, six minutes ago. He’s a riot, though, right?”

“Oh,” the girl said, sounding surprised. “Really?”

“Okay, fuck! Enough fooling around, you guys!” the Akari D?kumasuku yelled, her voice echoing through the red glare of the sublevel. “All you Darkmasks line up for a group photo by the pipes, here! No disguises for this one, we’re gonna do four… okay, three rows of people all doing the salute thing! You know what I’m talking about. Next we’ll do the heroes, one by one. Maybe one shot each where you’re like, captured by Darkmasks, and one where you’re fighting your way free?”

“But, uh—just so you know, I’ve heard he’s really bad news. Rumor is, he’s skeezy as fuck. Just between you and me,” The Magical Doll Himari muttered in Kelly’s direction. “If you know what I mean? He doesn’t have a good reputation.”

“Sounds kinda hot.” Kelly didn’t turn her head back to the Himari—she didn’t have to. She was facing the formation of Darkmask soldiers as they queued up for the first round of photos, but her eyes were on the red-tinted reflection of the car window closest to them, where she could carefully watch each and every sway and bob of the Magical Doll’s giant fluffy twin-tails.

* * *

Sounds hot? You just met him and you’re already throwing yourself all over him like a fucking prostitute? Chloe stifled the sneer she wanted to direct at this thirsty gothic lolita bitch. Did you ever consider that he might be taken? That there might be consequences? Well, this is what you get for rubbing your oh-so-precious thousand-dollar burando all over MY boyfriend, you goddamn whore.

While Chloe was trailing behind the Hero Hero Haruki group earlier, she’d been carefully peeling open mustard packets one by one. She was delighted when she tried a little dab of it on her fingertip; it was perfect. Cheap mustard; an acrid-smelling, greasy colored goop just right for absolutely ruining the delicate fabric and hundred-dollar lace that adorns beautiful burando like that. Her entire palm was filled with the little individually-packaged condiments, all opened at one end and ready to splurt out on something like a grotesque yellow cumshot.

You must think your outfit looks pretty nice, Chloe snickered to herself, feeling her pulse quicken with anticipation. But, don’t you see the IRONY of wearing a set called CALAMITY QUEEN? All I have to do is clench my hand into a fist, and your expensive brand is ruined. Permanently. One little gesture on my part, and it all becomes garbage—just like you. Garbage. You’re fucking garbage.

Chloe stepped back from the gothic lolita girl and made as if to wander off, pleased to notice that this stupid whore had zero self-awareness of what was going on around her—the cunt was still stupidly watching Brian and the rest of those Darkmask retards shuffle around like trained monkeys for photo after humiliating photo.

Savoring the triumph of this moment, Chloe turned, already walking away, and squeezed, feeling the handful of mustard packets empty themselves out in a spurt. Chloe unhurriedly continued walking, not looking back to see the damage yet or stupidly looking around to see if anyone had caught her in the act— she knew that would just draw attention to herself. No one could’ve seen clearly in this shitty red light, anyways. Hah. They’re all too far away!

She wrestled with the urge to turn back and look, to see how bad it was, how much damage she’d done, to see if the stupid cunt even noticed… but she restrained herself. Not ‘till I’m a good distance away. Hopefully, the whore won’t even notice that her perfect little outfit is fucking spattered with nasty for a good minute or two. Maybe someone else’ll notice it first, and point it out to her? How fucking embarrassing is that gonna be?

“Okay, everyone! One last big group photo with the Darkmasks in ranks, let’s do one big one together with the masks off!”

That’s when Chloe couldn’t help but turn. She was far enough away, she wagered, to be able to catch the look on Brian’s face without being spotted herself. She wanted to remember whatever doofy look he might be wearing in this moment, wanted to savor it. That fleeting happiness before the scene would inevitably be interrupted by shrieks of disbelief and horror as his new companion realizes what had happened to her thousand-dollar brand. That’s it. I want to see it.

Only—he wasn’t there. The many Darkmasks wearing fabric sentai-suits unzipped each other along the back of the head to reveal their ordinary faces, but the one that removed an actual helmet… wasn’t Brian. It was some sallow-faced, dorky-looking teenage guy.

What... the fuck, Chloe looked across the row of Darkmasks squeezing together for the group picture in confusion, her mind going blank. Where’s Brian?

“You look surprised,” the girl in gothic lolita pointed out with a laugh, turning to face her with an elegant swirl of her skirt.

What the fuck? Chloe stared, frozen in disbelief. There wasn’t a single speck of mustard on the girl’s dress. She’d felt that mustard spurt out. There should be globs of it everywhere, or at least flecks of it on her and some on the oil-stained surface of the parking garage… but there was nothing. The Noblesse Oblique this girl was wearing was still pristine, as if she’d just pulled it out of its mint packaging and tried it on. I look SURPRISED? You couldn’t even see me. That’s impossible.

“I wondered what you’d try,” Kelly smiled, shaking her head and stalking closer. With the blazing red light burning behind her, that composed smile of hers instead seemed positively fiendish. “But... I didn’t expect that. That was gross.”

“...What?” Chloe blinked. You weren’t even looking in my direction. And there’s nothing even on you—there’s no evidence! You can’t accuse me of anything—

In that perfectly clean Calamity Queen set, the dark-haired girl approached at a measured pace, one step at a time, stopping only when she was right in front of Chloe. The girl in gothic lolita raised one cupped hand... to reveal it contained a messy slough of splattered mustard, filling her palm, with a little bit starting to dribble down her wrist.

No way. No fucking way. Chloe felt panic start rising up within her, and she started to take a step back. She reached out and caught it? No way. She wasn’t even paying attention when I—

Before Chloe could recoil, she was slapped across the face with the slimy handful of captured condiment. Pungent mustard smeared across her careful makeup. Greasy yellow speckled the nearby dangling twintail, and spattered her neck. Then, the girl grabbed the front of Chloe’s sailor fuku with her messy hand and pushed, shoving her onto the pavement of the parking garage.

“Good try,” the girl in Noblesse Oblique chuckled, wryly shaking her head as she brushed past Chloe with a dramatic swirl of her skirts. “You just didn’t put in enough effort.”

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