Portal Project – The Lottery Games · Part 4

Portal Project – The Lottery Games · Part 4 (4/4)
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t her performance in the finals.”

The image cut back to the action. The stage was dark– or as dark as it could be with the regular stadium lighting still on. The new panel of three judges were seated at their tables. Everything was quiet. Suddenly the music cut in with a loud blare of trumpets and four spotlights snapped on showing number four, fully clothed in a black, sequined evening dress, hanging sideways on the pole by her legs. Her arms were cloaked in what appeared to be black, elbow-length gloves, but her hands, themselves, appeared bare.

As the music began to play, she began slowly circling the pole. Evidently she was twisting herself around the pole using her one hand which was gripping the pole above her. She continued turning until she was facing away from the judges’ tables. She reached down to the pole with her other hand and released her feet and then did what was effectively a handstand straight out from the pole so that she was once again facing the three judges’ tables.

Number four slid her lower hand up the pole slightly and then slid her upper hand also up the pole. She repeated this several times until she had raised herself to the desired height. Then, without moving her legs, she bent her lower arm and slowly rotated her body until she was standing on the ground.

“One of the judges is applauding with the crowd,” said Harold in amazement.

As her feet touched the ground, the music changed and she began moving away from the pole. Her whole body was swaying with the music as she moved toward the first judge’s table. She held her left hand up to her mouth and apparently bit the end of the faux glove because as she pulled her arm back, the black glove-like sleeve remained dangling from her teeth.

She bowed deeply to the judge, laying the glove on the table immediately in front of him, and then danced back towards the center of the room. She swayed with the music as she spun slowly in the spotlight. When she was once again facing the judges, the second glove was dangling from her teeth.

She again danced over to the tables. Many in the audience, as well as the three judges, were moving slightly with her swaying dance as she made her way to the second judge. Again she bowed deeply, and again she laid the glove on the table with her teeth.

The music changed into something that sounded like a tango and she moved back toward the pole with large steps. Once there she stood on her hands next to the pole facing it and grasped the pole with her legs. As she did so, the dress fell over her upper body to revealed her legs, which were encased in non-transparent, black stockings which were held up with a black satin garter-belt. A pair of almost thong-like panties covered her crotch.

She moved her arms so that her lower body was touching the pole and then gripped it tightly with her legs so that she could arch her back until her head was upright and looking out at the judges. Her dress, which had fallen over her head as she hung upside down, was in her hands.

The music changed once again to something that sounded like a shepherd’s pipe. As the flute-like music played a haunting refrain, she slowly pulled the dress upward until it came over her head revealing an almost transparent black lace brasier holding her ample breasts.

Once the dress was totally clear of her body, she allowed herself to slide rapidly down the pole. Just before her stomach would have hit the ground, she tucked her body downward and released her legs so that she could do a tumbler’s roll onto the stage. Her roll was perfect and she ended up on one knee in front of the third judge holding the dress in her hands and presenting it forward almost as if it were an offering to the gods.

She set the dress on the table in front of him and moved back toward the first judge’s table. The music had changed to what, in our world, would be called a soft “bump and grind” and she stood with her eyes closed rotating in place while she pulsed her pelvis in time to the music. When she was once again facing the judge, she reached down, and in exact time with the drum emphasis in the music released one of the garter clips. She then rotated in place once again until she was facing the second judge and released another clip. Another rotation to the third judge and the third clip was released. One final rotation brought her around once again to the first judge and the fourth and final clip was opened exactly in time with the beat of the drum.

She then stood facing the judge with her hips and pelvis rotating and thrusting in time to the music as she slowly slid the garter-belt down over her hips. The stockings themselves evidently did not really need to the support of the garter-belt and remained securely in place encasing her legs in their blackness.

She continued to slide the belt downward with her hands until it was past the rounded part of her ass and almost to her knees. She then let it fall slowly on its own as she gyrated in time to the music. When it was finally on the floor, and again in time to the drums in the music, she staged-kicked the garter-belt upward into her hands. Then with a slightly exaggerated throwing of her hips, she walked over to the judge’s table and on the final beat of the music, slammed the belt solidly onto the table in front of him.

The music changed to something that sounded more like a waltz and she glided away from the table toward the center of the stage. She was flowing over the floor almost as if she were dancing with a partner. It even looked like she were grasping someone’s shoulders and her movements to unclasp the front of her bra were almost not noticeable until suddenly she was holding the bra in her hands as she danced with her breasts bare. The spotlights reflected off a light dusting of glitter near her areoles and nipples. She spun several times across the floor and with the same graceful motion with which she had removed her bra, she placed it on the table in front of the second judge.

The music continued with the waltz as she spun across the floor moving closer with each spin to the third judge. “How she is going to remove those panties in time to the music?” Harold, the announcer wondered aloud.

In answer to his question, she stopped at the judge’s table, right alongside judge three, and stood there swaying and bobbing with the music. She bent over and kissed him slightly on the cheek and evidently said something, because he reached out and put a finger on each side of her hips in the edge of her panties and slowly began pulling them downward.

They were only slightly below her knees when she stepped out of them and danced away. The judge lifted them to his face and sniffed them before placing them on the table in front of him.

Number four then returned to the pole and once again lifted herself onto the pole with her legs. She again moved higher on the pole and reached down to grab the pole with her arms, only this time she brought her legs in front of the pole so that she was effectively standing on the pole with her feet just inside her arms. The bent-over position of her body showed her most intimate parts to the judges and the audience as she circled the pole at an ever-increasing speed.

The music once again changed to a rather bland style of pop and she suddenly snapped her legs back to straight and released her hands from the pole. She flew through the air flipping and twisting and landed on her feet directly in front of the first judge. She smiled at him and reached down to take his hands in hers. Lifting him from his seat, she danced him back toward the bed. Once alongside the bed, she slid his coat from his shoulders and hung it carefully on a hanger on one of the valets. She then stood behind him and slid her hands up and down his chest while she slowly loosened his tie and took it from around his neck. The tie, she placed around the top of the hanger on which the suit coat was hung.

Still remaining behind him, she slowly unbuttoned his shirt, pausing occasionally to slide her hands under the shirt to stroke his abdomen. When the shirt was fully unbuttoned, she pulled it from the waistband of his pants and slid it off his shoulders. It was placed on a separate hanger on the valet.

She then guided him to sit on the bed and knelt before him to remove his shoes. These she carefully placed on a shelf at the bottom of the valet. She next removed his socks and draped them over a small rod on the side of the valet.

The music changed slightly, but was still an innocuous pop song of some sort, as she once again pulled him to his feet and stood behind him to loosen his belt and slacks. This took several moments as she slowly rubbed her breasts and nipples around his back while she worked with his belt and zipper. Finally she lowered his pants slowly to the floor and lifted his ankles slightly, one at a time, so that she could pull the pants clear of his legs. She held the pants up and carefully folded them before hanging them over a special hanger on the valet.

She then turned the judge slightly so that he was facing her. She went down on her knees and grasped the edge of his boxers with her teeth and pulled downward. She had to release her grip and move from one leg to the other several times before she was able to tug the boxers to the floor. There was a slight giggle from the audience as she struggled to pull them past his now prestigious erection. Once the boxers were clear of his feet, she crawled, carrying them in her mouth, over to the valet and draped them across one of the lowest rods on the side of the valet.

Standing once more, she returned to the judge and danced and swayed as she rubbed her body against his until the end of the song. When the music changed, she led him to the bed and indicated that he should sit near the headboard.

She then reached behind him and took something from a shelf. It was apparently lube of some sort. She walked to the end of the bed and began smearing the lube on the bedpost, which stood about a foot or so above the bed. After wiping her hands on a towel which she returned to under the bed, she danced out so that she was facing away from the bed and slowly lowered herself onto the bedpost.

She bobbed in time to the music, allowing the post to penetrate her ass just slightly more with each bounce. After several minutes of this, she raised herself back up to a full standing position, turned and blew a kiss to the judge waiting on the bed, and then returned to the tables to get the second judge.

Her routine with the second judge was identical to what she did with the first judge except that she placed him at the foot of the bed before once again ass-fucking herself on the corner post. This time, as she was bobbing up and down, Harold appeared in the corner to comment, “She is stretching herself out so that the anal portion of this performance will be less painful for her. But that is not the only reason,” he added. “If she is too tight, it can be painful for the man as well as the woman. If she stretches herself just right, the man can enter easily, but the anal ring will still give a very tight and wonderful sensation.”

Number four returned for the third judge. Again the routine was the same, but this time the judge was wearing “tighty-whities” and she had to struggle for several moments to get them to pull downward over his very stiff prick. Once his briefs were draped over the rod on the valet, she led him to the center of the bed and placed him on his back. She straddled him and slowly lowered herself down on his immense member.

Once in place she nodded at the second judge and he moved into place behind her. It took him a moment to position his knees between the other judge’s legs, but soon he was in place and she guided his prick into her ass. She then nodded at the first judge and he positioned himself so that she could take him into her mouth.

“A King’s Crown,” Harold said with more than a little amazement and wonder in his voice. “The rules say she must take one judge in each of her openings, but it doesn’t say how she should do that. I don’t remember a finalist ever doing a King’s Crown… and I’ve never seen a King’s Crown done with such finesse.”

The camera cut back to the scene in the bed. The contestant was moving her mouth and body in time with the thrusts from all three judges. At one point she reached up with one hand and massaged judge number one’s rosebud. At another point, she stopped thrusting with her pelvis and concentrated on wiggling her ass back and forth on judge number two. It was apparent that she was attempting to bring all three of them to a simultaneous climax.

The face of the first judge began to take on that pre-orgasmic look of almost agony and she suddenly began thrusting rapidly against the second and third judges. The whole stadium heard the low growling groan as the three judges erupted within her at the same time. That was followed almost immediately by a loud wailing cry as finalist number four screamed out her own orgasm as the stage lights snapped to black.

“I don’t think that was faked,” said Harold. “But even if it was, it was a magnificent finale to a superior performance. I don’t think that I have seen a better finalist performance in all the years I have been helping broadcast these games.”

The image of the stage at the stadium faded and Harold appeared on full screen. “I don’t think,” he began, “that we have to show you the final vote totals for you to know who was the winner. I interviewed finalist number four after the games and she told me this.”

The image dissolved to a shot showing Harold standing beside the winning finalist. She was still clothed only in her black stockings. “You have won the 174th Annual Lottery Games,” he said, “and the question everyone is asking themselves is ‘How did you come up with such a spectacular program for the finals?’”

“Well, Harold,” she answered, “ever since I was a little girl I knew that I would be a selectee and I knew that I would make it to the finals. I worked to keep my body in perfect condition; I took dance lessons, from ballet to pole dancing; and I worked with choreographers and musicians as much as my parents could afford to develop the routine you saw tonight.”

She giggled slightly, “One of the choreographers taught me that buck and snap routine to use in the tug of war. I had a Yugu Master help me with meditation techniques and I practiced that move using springs in my daddy’s garage until I could stand the pain. My whole life has been devoted to winning these games.”

The image returned to Harold standing alone and he said, “That whole interview, along with many hours of additional footage of the games themselves, is included in the complete video set. And here is Jim with details of how to order.

After a very short black screen, Harold returned with Leroy, Bill, Frank, and Jim standing behind him. “That wraps up our coverage of the 174th Annual Lottery Games. Remember to be with us on Drune 8 for this year’s games. I and our whole team will be here as the 175th Anniversary Presentation of the Annual Lottery Games will be shown right here on this video channel.”

The screen then returned to the computer main screen.

Ryan cleared his throat. “Ruthie,” he asked, “do you think you can somehow copy that off the alien machine onto our network so that I can study it further?”

Several of the female techs looked at him with a combination of wonderment and disgust. “What!?” he barked. “They gave it to us so that we could understand their culture. I need to study it further to see what else we can glean from it.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” answered Ruthie.

“In the meantime,” Johansson interjected, “I am going to see if it’s possible to pick up radio, TV, or internet noise through any of the other portals.

The next day, Lieutenant Commander Ryan Wetherington called a meeting of the entire project team and announced. “I think that we need to find a way to send an ambassador from our dimension to this other world. When they re-establish contact, I want you to see if there is some way that I can go over to their side to attend these games… I mean, to speak with their government and talk about what we can do for each other.”

Ruthie spoke up. “We don’t have to wait until the portal is totally open,” she said. “There is a message program on the alien computer that is still connected to their system.” She shrugged. “Unfortunately, I am the only one who is able to read it, and we haven’t figured out a translation program. But I will see what I can work out with Breanna… that’s the one who sent me a message overnight.”

“Do that!” ordered Ryan. “And see if you can get something put in place before those games begin.” With that he walked out of the room.

Seventeen voices whispered, “Asshole!” as he left.

A week later The Portal Project team was again assembled in the conference room. “Well,” Ryan began, “what progress have we made in the past week?”

“None of the other portals show any radio activity,” answered Johansson.

“But the people in portal seven are very anxious to establish relations with this dimension,” said Ruthie with a smile. “There is one problem, though.”

She paused and pressed her lips together like she was afraid to continue.

“And that problem is…?” Ryan asked sarcastically.

“The problem is that they highly recommend that the ambassador not be you,” Ruthie said quickly. “They recommend that the ambassador from their side be Breanna, and that the ambassador from this side also be a woman.”

“Didn’t you see how women are treated on their side of the portal?” he responded with a huff. “We need to send a man, and I am exactly the kind of man that is needed.”

“But sir,” said Johansson, “they have explained that…”

Ryan cut him off with a shout, “I don’t care what they have explained. When we re-establish portal contact set up the transfer for me to go through, and make sure that it is set up so that I can attend those games…” He coughed lightly and looked around before completing with, “… and get a full flavor of that culture and society.”

“If you insist, sir,” Johansson answered. “But I think you should put that order in writing.”

“Good insight, Midshipman,” he snapped back. “I will even make it a direct order so that none of you dweebs can change things at the last minute.”

“Yes, sir,” Ruthie answered.

Ryan smiled as he left the room. Things were finally beginning to turn around. Ruthie even called him “sir.”

The thirty days finally passed and the entire team was gathered in the project control room for the anticipated re-establishment of full contact. Several team members had strongly suggested that the successful contact be reported to the supervisory scientists or at least to the congressional liaison, but Ryan had insisted that such reporting wait until a second contact “verified results” of the portal exploration.

When Johansson threatened to go over his head, Ryan wrote out another direct order forbidding any outside discussion of the discovery until after the second contact. He even invoked the national security clause in their contracts to bind the civilians to secrecy.

As the clock slowly approached the anticipated opening of the portal, Ryan stood in the control room in his full dress uniform. Ruthie once again said to him, “Sir, you really need to reconsider. They said it would be best if we sent a woman. You have to understand that…”

He cut her off angrily with, “I understand everything, Ruthie. Just establish the damn link!”

“Yes sir,” she answered. “Breanna indicated that their power supply was damaged last time and that they can only hold the link for a very short time. Even that may overload or damage their system. They were going to postpone contact, but it is imperative for her that we establish the link today.

“Then do it!” he snapped.

A moment later, the monitor again cleared slightly and dimly showed the alien control room. An officer of some sort was standing near their end of the portal. Ruthie typed something into the alien computer. “I told them to begin transfer,” she said.

Ryan stepped forward toward the portal which was slowly growing brighter. As he stepped through the swirling opening, another figure stepped out into The Portal Project control room. Shortly thereafter, a burst of smoke could be seen in the control room on the monitor and the screen returned to the pixelated garbage that indicated the connection had been broken.

“Welcome to our world,” said Ruthie. “You must be Breanna.”

“Yes,” the man answered, “but in this dimension, I don’t think that name quite fits. Perhaps you should call me Bryan.”

He looked at the back of his hands and felt the skin of his face and neck. “The person who went through from this side must have been considerably older than me,” he said quietly. “She… he will be pleased to be eighteen again on the other side of the portal.”

He paused, straightened herself– himself– to full height and said, “Where is your commanding officer?”

“Commander Ryan was the one who transferred through the portal with you,” answered Johansson. “I am second in command. We were ordered by our commander not to contact our superiors before the transfer, but arrangements are being made now for you to speak with our government leaders.”

Breanna– now Bryan– turned to Ruthie and said, “I thought your commanding officer was a male. Did you not tell him that your ambassador had to be a woman?”

“We tried,” answered Ruthie, “but he wouldn’t listen.”

“Does he not know that everything reverses when you go through the portal?” he asked.

“We tried to tell him that, too,” answered Johansson, “but he wouldn’t listen.”

“All he was really interested in,” said one of the other techs, “was attending the games.”

“Oh,” replied Bryan replied with a laugh, “he will do that. There should be a spot for him. I was scheduled to attend the games myself.”

Her face suddenly turned serious. There was obvious concern in her voice as she said, “Did he not know that he would be a woman on our side of the portal?”

“He does now!” Ruthie and Johansson answered in unison. Both were smiling.

“Why didn’t you try to stop him. He doesn’t stand a chance in the games.” Then to answer his own question Bryan said, “I know. You tried to tell him, but he wouldn’t listen.”

Ruthie and Johansson again answered in unison. Their “Yes,” was joined by several other techs in the room. One strong voice added, “As usual.”

Bryan shook his head slowly from side to side as he said. “We have a word for a man like that on our side of the portal.”

“What’s that?” asked Ruthie.

The alien ambassador looked over toward the now closed portal and replied, “Asshole!”

Wayne Mitchell “The Technician”

See my published books at https://a1adultebooks.com/ebooks/a1711.htm

Portal Project – The Lottery Games · Part 4 (4/4)
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