Joe poked at the blob sitting on his desk with a pen. 

It gave a little, but otherwise seemed fairly innocuous.  A pink-y / flesh-tone-y… well, blob’s the best he could describe it… gelatinous?  Almost. Solid? Kinda. Non-descript?  Yes!  That’s the word to describe this thing that was sitting on his desk with a wire sticking into his computer on one side and a helmet attached to some cables on the other.

It was vaguely worrisome, truth be told.

The man who’d brought this thing into his office was explaining it to him.  Extolling the virtues of the blob-o-matic 5000, or whatever it was he was calling it.

All of the inventions had begun to bleed together in Joe’s head.  He was having a hard time keeping track of them all.  And, frankly, in the six weeks since his bosses at Inventor-Helper had decided to give up on the loonies with their auto-closets, dress-o-matics, cyber-chauffeurs, maids-in-a-boxes, homework-completers, self-starting-tooth-brushers, self-contained-lunch-eaters, computerized-friends-that-won‘t-stab-you-in-the-back-for-a-cookie-even-though-you-are-a-pathertic-waste-of-human-space-and-deserve-to-die-alone-rs, and whatnot -  in exchange for concentrating completely on the bizarre-sexual-inventions market, he had grown quite sick and tired of evaluating, ranking, rating, and, yes, testing, the various and sundry inventions that modern technology had made it possible for some truly twisted individuals to come up with. 

Not that it hadn’t started out ok.  He was, after all, a senior product evaluator.  Nothing got to his desk without making it through the gauntlet of easily replaceable junior product evaluators, no few of whom were currently recuperating from various injuries on the company’s workers comp dime from the side effects of hundreds of poorly thought out inventions involving various probes and sockets.

The products, at the very least, were guaranteed not to kill him by the time they made it up to his desk. But they were not guaranteed to be anything a relatively non-triple-breasted-whore-fetishist would be able to find enjoyable on a regular basis, week in, week out… it seemed that the city could provide a never-ending supply of people with new ideas about how to have sex without having to involve all that pesky "actually being able to interact in a reasonable way with another human being."

Joe, realizing his mind was wandering off the subject at hand, turned his attention back to blob-o-matic 5000 man to see if this invention was something that, perhaps, might be marketed to the general public without bringing down a crashing wave of disappointments, injuries, and, ultimately, lawsuits – thereby making it something that Inventor-Helper might want to bilk the man out of his patent to.

"And you see, the electron flow of the fantasy-mass will allow it to take the shape of anything you program blah blah blah"

Joe faded back out. Disappointed by yet another "put on the VR helmet and my plastic doll will feel like the real thing" pitch.  Although he did have to give the guy points for the blob being a little more inventive than the people who showed up with actual dolls.  The blob, as it were, seemed to be able to take the shape of probe or socket… so that was some efficiency built into the system anyway.  But original?  This would be the four hundred and thirty second version of helmet-and-doll that he’d tested this month.  You’d think that market saturation would eventually be reached.  But inventors always think of ways to make their product is new and different – deviant sexual inventors – more so.

A flying car passing outside Joe’s window caught his attention.  It reminded him of when he was a child… the heady times of constant scientific innovation… plunging the world and all of humanity into a thrilling race of cleaning up the polluted environment, expanding the horizons of the human race into new solar systems, meeting ACTUAL ALIEN RACES! Health and longevity for all! No more poverty! No More Hunger! No more misery! It’s a whole new era!

Yes, it had been an exciting time to be alive.  But, humanity - rather insisting on remaining true to form - pissed off the aliens, who left; invented new and thrilling ways to pollute the environment, of multiple planets, now; decided that too much longevity had to be legislated out of reach to keep the population in check; and decided that universal lack of poverty put something of a damper on the ability of the wealthy to exploit the underclass, so out that went too.

At least they were able to keep the flying cars.

Sensing the end of blob-man’s speech, Joe nodded, smiled, made polite noises, took the invention, assured the inventor that he would put it through a rigorous testing process and get back to him on the market potential of his sex-blob, and shoved the guy out the office door.  The act of showing Inventor-Helper an invention actually contractually negated any rights the inventor had to the invention. It was a wonderfully creative legal arrangement that Joe still didn’t understand, only knew that once he listened to the spiel, the product was his to do as he liked.  Corporate Law had made just as many huge leaps of advancement as the rest of humanity’s areas of expertise.

Looking at the slightly quivering blob of not-quite-jelly on his desk, Joe supposed he’d better get on with the testing… he had other inventions to swipe today, and he still needed to find something good for his monthly quota.

Sliding the helmet over his eyes, Joe settled in to his chair and let the blob – he’d really have to find a better name for this thing if it worked out – slide over his body, enveloping him in a complete sensation bath, the likes of which he had never felt before.  Wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure thrilled through his body.

Joe sighed to himself.  Damn, it was actually working. There was gonna be some paperwork to do.

One Response to “FFCEpsilon: New and Improved by R. L. Williams”

1. D. S. Knight on April 29th, 2008 10:47 am

   hehe, very nice, very nice indeed. I wonder if something like that would sell at Fascinations?

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