Sisters of the Mercy Fuck Network

[prognosticat]

Sisters of the Mercy Fuck Network​

According to Network lore, it all began late one Friday night in 1989 as two nursing students, “Amy” and “Jenni,” heard the sad tale of “Paul,” the brother of a friend of a friend, who went to another school. He had been in a serious depressive funk for months after a very hard breakup. The story was, he was a really good guy, but just couldn't get back in the game. In one version of events, there was a dare, in another it was a general consensus, and in another a bold declaration of self-confident bravado. But all versions agree that somewhere along the line, these words were spoken: “All he needs is a good fuck. Hell, I'd fuck him!”

The details now are obscured in legend, but as they're told, they usually include a late night road trip, a box of Daylight Donuts, a strip of condoms, and in some tellings a mask or a wig. The tale of staking out “Paul's” dorm is usually repeated, and all versions insist on the Saturday evening ambush, with "Jenni" sneaking into his room while he was away for supper. Stories of flashing or blowing the residence director for a key are considered apocryphal to most insiders – it seems too fantastic, sensational, and risky to be true, though there are those who insist on its veracity. In any case, no one seems to be able to provide any other detail about how entry to the room was made.

However it actually occurred, it is generally agreed that "Jenni" did the deed herself, while "Amy" hovered nearby in case there was need of a quick rescue and getaway, and that afterward, the mission was considered to be a success. “Intelligence reports” indicated that the subject soon broke out of his funk and “moved on” as they say. The friend of a friend was pleased, and it wasn't long before another case came along, and "Amy" got her chance to render an act of compassion.

Eventually, word got around that there were “angels” who could lend some aid to worthy recipients, but it was understood that you would have to go through proper channels, and that each case would be reviewed for its merits before any action was taken. Soon, a few more intrepid volunteers stepped forth to form a small corps, sworn to secrecy, anonymity, compassion, and a damn good fuck. The tales tell that the inner circle included students of psychology, psychiatry, and social work, and that elaborate criteria were developed to determine when someone needed the phone number of a suicide hotline, and when they just needed a right proper shag.

Over the years the vetting process was refined. Clever tactics were developed for subtly probing the nominated recipient's friends, relations, and colleagues without arousing suspicion. Much of the work was done through intermediaries who didn't even know about the network, let alone that their gossip was actually research on its behalf. The one thing that would immediately take a nominee out of the pool of deserving recipients was the slightest whiff of violence or real coercion. Guys like that didn't need a fuck. They could fuck themselves.

Another rule that was held to strictly was that no requests were permitted from prospective recipients themselves. If they even knew about the Network, they would not be considered for a Mercy Fuck operation. A client would only be considered if he were recommended by a friend, relative, or acquaintance who cared about the guy and thought he needed some fuckin' but couldn't be the one to provide the service him- or herself.

The early days of the Mercy Fuck Network were also the early days of computer networks, with an archipelago of multi-user systems on college campuses, linked by dial-up UUCP networks, or this new thing called the Internet. It wasn't long before one could send nominations to mercyf@chisolm.edu. Interestingly, the real student named Mercy Francis reputedly never took advantage of the account that was created for her on the campus UNIX system, yet strangely the email address received quite a bit of use, even several years after her graduation. Evidently, someone knew someone who worked in Computing Services.

Over time a handbook emerged, in the form of an encrypted text file passed from one to another on floppy disk: the collected notes and hard-won wisdom of the veterans. A strict protocol was established pertaining to the possession, use, and secrecy of the document. But for the most part, the standards, practices, and lore of the Network were passed by word of mouth, from agent to agent. It was from the outset a society of confidence, based on the trust of friendship, and a shared commitment to bettering the world through therapeutic sex.

Though whole new generations have been inducted into the Network, it is widely held that some of the founding members have continuing involvement despite being otherwise faithfully involved in their own family relationships. It is generally agreed that their role is now largely organizational -- as facilitators, orchestraters, inspirational leaders, and repositories of wisdom – but few would dispute that they still play, on occasion, a more active role. Now they have the freedom to select those specific nominees who they believe they themselves can offer special help.

The Network now includes a specially equipped corps of medically trained volunteers who handle some of the more extreme cases, such as clients with known STDs. In a very controversial move, the Network has also recently admitted a very small number of male volunteers, both gay and straight. Some long-standing members were concerned that doing so would disrupt the community of trust, and a few members even resigned over the decision. It is still too early to tell how this change will impact the Network in the long run, but by all appearances there have been no major problems yet, aside from the initial controversy.

These days, mercyfuck.org is a clearinghouse where nominations are made. But don't go looking for a web page. There is not one to be found there. It is only a domain name attached to a mail server. The Network does have coordination through various wiki pages and social networks, but it is dispersed, subtle, and hidden in plain sight. Messages are disguised in photos sent as email attachments or posted on Mybook. Code words in plain text carry special meaning to those who know. And old fashioned midnight phone calls move up and down the chain of agents.

Whispered conversations and text messages, tentative inquiries and an email address scratched on a restroom wall, confidences shared from friend to friend, all eventually make their way to the Sisters of the Mercy Fuck Network.



To the players:
You play the Sisters of the Mercy Fuck Network and the recipients of their generosity. Roleplay the encounter from beginning to end. The Sisters always go by pseudonyms. The prospective recipients should be presented in the beginning by a dossier such as the following:

Name:
Age:
Gender:
Orientation:
Occupation:
Recommended by:
Relationship of Recommender:
Reason for Recommendation:
Unusual Circumstances:
Living Arrangements:
House/Room-mates:
Known Medical Conditions:
Mental Health Notes:
Staff Investigation Notes:
Other Information:

This dossier should provide a starting point for the recipient's character. The player who plays a Sister should imagine similar information for her character, though it probably needn't be posted explicitly. Of particular interest is any reason you can imagine why the character is an agent of the Mercy Fuck Network. The Sisters are trained to remain in control of the situation at all times, though not necessarily taking on a dominant role. Their view is that they are administering a therapeutic service for humanitarian reasons. They are there to do a job, albeit a job that is intended to be enjoyable – even mutually so. But they consider themselves experts at what they do. This does not mean that they need to take a coldly clinical approach. They may be playful, warm, or friendly. After all, the aim in many cases is to increase their client's confidence, or provide some needed relief and human contact. But in the end, they are not there for long-term emotional involvement, though the hope may be that their intervention may lead the client to find that with someone else.

That being said, the Mercy Fuck Network is composed of real human beings, as imperfect as anyone else. There may be great roleplaying material in investigating a Mercy Fuck operation that goes awry in one way or another, though perhaps this possibility should be hinted at from the outset.

The Sisters, or agents, always introduce themselves something like this:
"Hi, I'm _______, and I'm a friend of a friend of a friend." They won't tell any other details of themselves, unless they are made-up details for role-play. "This isn't about me right now," or something like that.

So, let's have some good roleplaying. Make up your characters, and act out an encounter. What is it like for an agent to make herself available to this guy who is probably suffering and is almost certainly very surprised? And how is it for the guy, who may be a bit suspicious, but is confronted with an opportunity few would find easy to pass up?

prognosticat

 

[prognosticat]

The following dossier has just been made available on the Mercy Fuck Network
Name: Daniel J. Duncan
Age: 22
Gender: M
Orientation: Straight
Occupation: Student
Recommended by: Jillian D. Chute
Relationship of Recommender: Friend
Reason for Recommendation: Never been on a date. Never kissed a girl. “Dan's a really sweet guy, but he's convinced that his past experiences of being picked on in High School have forever tainted him. He's too afraid of rejection to ask a girl out, tho I know for a fact there are plenty who would love to get their hands on a nice, smart guy like him. But he wont listen to me.”
Unusual Circumstances:
Living Arrangements: Campus Apartments
House/Room-mates:
Known Medical Conditions:
Mental Health Notes: Mild depression, feelings of inferiority, social anxiety
Staff Investigation Notes: All references check out OK. He works part time for the campus radio station as a technician in the evenings from 20:00 – 23:00. Has some friends but doesn't get out much. Recommendation of full-service treatment, with advice to take a chance and not be afraid of rejection... lots of opportunities for companionship, but they can't be had if he doesn't get out and look, etc.
Other Information:

 

[prognosticat]

From: “Amy”
Subject: Daniel Duncan Mercy Fuck Operation

We still need an agent to take on the Duncan case. Is there anyone in his area who is available this weekend? Get in touch with your contact so we can get him taken care of. It looks like a pretty simple case – just your average “shy guy” I think.



OOC: Looking for a female to play a Sister of the Mercy Fuck Network (agent) and a male player for Duncan, the nominated recipient. If you think you can play a suitable agent, just jump in and take the case. Duncan is open as well, but play should begin with the Network agent. She's going to catch him at unawares. Maybe at his apartment. Maybe in the parking lot. Maybe at work. Her call. If a Sister begins play and nobody picks up Duncan after a while, I could play him, but I'd prefer to be gamemaster, adding little bits of interest only if necessary.

PM prognosticat if you have any questions.

 

[prognosticat]

It looks like we have a "Dan." Now who can help him out with his problem?

prognosticat

 

[prognosticat]

From: “Amy”
Subject: Daniel Duncan Mercy Fuck Operation

We still need an agent to take on the Duncan case. Is there anyone in his area who is available this weekend? Get in touch with your contact so we can get him taken care of. It looks like a pretty simple case – just your average “shy guy” I think.



OOC: Looking for a female to play a Sister of the Mercy Fuck Network (agent) and a male player for Duncan, the nominated recipient. If you think you can play a suitable agent, just jump in and take the case. Duncan is open as well, but play should begin with the Network agent. She's going to catch him at unawares. Maybe at his apartment. Maybe in the parking lot. Maybe at work. Her call. If a Sister begins play and nobody picks up Duncan after a while, I could play him, but I'd prefer to be gamemaster, adding little bits of interest only if necessary.

PM prognosticat if you have any questions.

From: "Laura"
Subject: Re: Daniel Duncan Mercy Fuck Operation

I'm in the region, but can't do an Op. for at least a month, otherwise I'd be right on it. Sorry.

 

[prognosticat]

From: "Laura"
Subject: Re: Daniel Duncan Mercy Fuck Operation

I'm in the region, but can't do an Op. for at least a month, otherwise I'd be right on it. Sorry.

From: “Amy”
Subject: Re: Daniel Duncan Mercy Fuck Operation

Do you know who else in your area might be able to take this case?

 

[kimberlee]

From: “Amy”
Subject: Daniel Duncan Mercy Fuck Operation

We still need an agent to take on the Duncan case. Is there anyone in his area who is available this weekend? Get in touch with your contact so we can get him taken care of. It looks like a pretty simple case – just your average “shy guy” I think.

From: "Grace"
Subject: Re: Daniel Duncan Mercy Fuck Operation

I believe I can do the Op. I've already done some recon and the subject has all the earmarkings of the "shy guy" syndrome. I put in an application for the campus radio station for an opening as a DJ between 22:00 and 24:00 and earned the position.

I plan to tease and drop hints for a short time to see whether the subject will take the clue or shy away from them believing my words to actually be a setup for some unknown but planned humiliation. This will guide me in which direction I need to go. I'm expecting from what surveillance I've managed that the latter is more likely; but, you never can tell with the shy ones. Wish me luck.

 

[prognosticat]

From: "Grace"
Subject: Re: Daniel Duncan Mercy Fuck Operation

I believe I can do the Op. I've already done some recon and the subject has all the earmarkings of the "shy guy" syndrome. I put in an application for the campus radio station for an opening as a DJ between 22:00 and 24:00 and earned the position.

I plan to tease and drop hints for a short time to see whether the subject will take the clue or shy away from them believing my words to actually be a setup for some unknown but planned humiliation. This will guide me in which direction I need to go. I'm expecting from what surveillance I've managed that the latter is more likely; but, you never can tell with the shy ones. Wish me luck.

From: "Amy"
Subject: Re: Daniel Duncan Mercy Fuck Operation

Thanks for taking this up, agent "Grace". It looks like you've already done some good work. Keep us posted on your progress, and good luck!

 

[kimberlee]

From: "Amy"
Subject: Re: Daniel Duncan Mercy Fuck Operation

Thanks for taking this up, agent "Grace". It looks like you've already done some good work. Keep us posted on your progress, and good luck!

From: "Grace"
Subject: Re: Daniel Duncan Mercy Fuck Operation

Will do.

I sent my message and looked about the station wondering what might appear most likely to break down and need Dan's attention. I settled on the A/C played with it a bit as my last request played itself out. I fiddled with it until I was fairly certain that it didn't look as if it had been purposefully done and was more from wear and tear.

When it gave out, I called for a tech. I was fairly certain that Dan was the only one in the building at the time.

I'm a 5'6" brunette. I dressed casual with jeans at a tee. I didn't bother with a bra but made certain that my shirt was dark. While the shirt outlined my nipples very nicely, it also hid them to some degree - just had to be fairly up close with me. I played with my nipples as I dialed the number.

"Hello, need tech support?" I heard over the line.

"Hey there, sexy. I need you to come up here and take a look. I'm just so horrible at fixing things - much better at breaking them," I spoke into the phone. I could almost sense a confused smile in the short silence that followed before I heard he'd be up.

 

[kimberlee]

I waited for Dan, informing my listening audience that the A/C had crashed and a guy from tech support was coming to fix my problem. I further described how hot and wet I was getting without my dear A/C. "And so let's listen to Ludacris sing it like no one else can." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4jmp8PEz7P8

I moved to the tunes as I as I whiled away the time. The song was just winding down when Dan made his appearance - his name tag read Daniel J Duncan. He was fairly good looking - not the kind of looks that caused car accidents but definitely worth a second look, at least he would be if he walked with more assurance in his step and a stronger self image. The hang-dog look was out of season and it was my job to get him back into fashion.

"erm.....you said something needed fixing?" he asked. I motioned to the air conditioner. I knew tech support was more likely meant for the station's radio airing equiptment and hoped he's be able to fix the problem I'd created.

"Well, for all you listening and feeling for me. No need to worry, my hero has arrived. I'm sure Daniel J Duncan - mind if I call you Dan - will soon have this booth filled with nice cool air. But after getting so wet - especially after those tunes, we all know I'll still be feeling some of that heat and then that cool air will actually feel cold. So, what do you say we rock a little with Katy Perry's Hot N Cold." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hrscL3Uvv-g

I sighed as I sat back in my chair and visibly relaxed. I opened my eyes and smiled at Dan. "Sorry about that. It helps me work through my shift if I sort of switch my personality around a bit. You know - become my alter-ego. I just become alot more willing to talk about most anything and everything. Hope I don't weird you out. You're kinda cute and your voice over the phone - to die for. Ever think of working as a DJ?" I said, bombarding him with questions and unasked for information. "Sorry, I didn't ask over the phone whether you could fix the A/C. I just know I'll be dying from the heat soon." I said as I fanned myself and openly checking him out. "I hope you don't mind if I mention you on the air a few times while you're in here..."

 

[kimberlee]

He appeared to be really shy and perhaps just as nervous around women. I had to talk to him and get him to loosen up a bit. I laughed after he claimed not to have the charisma needed to do the job of a DJ. I was quick to say, "Oh, come on. You can't tell me you never pretended to be someone else when you were young. I know I did. It's just like acting it out - only you've got unseen listeners. And I'm sure they'll be interested enough in you. Which reminds me..." before he might think I was laughing at him.

I returned my attention to my audience as the song wound down. "Hello everyone out there. Dan is busy at work getting the A/C back in operation. Gotta love a man who's good with his hands, right girls. And so now in respect for my tech support guy, we'll take a trip back in time and listen to some Men at Work from Down Under." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MeG-hNXXy6I

I decided to keep sexual innuendos to a minimum for the time being and sat back once more returning my attention to the only person in the booth with me. "So, what do you like to listen to? I listen to everything from Enya to Evanescense and Nickelback. Got any requests? If you feel up to it, I might even let you take over for a sec if I'm sure you're up to it."

I rose from my seat and walked over as if showing interest in his progress. "Any ideas what it might be? Will it be a while?" I asked as I stood behind him and looking over his shoulder. My hardened nipples were poking at the fabric of my shirt and against his back. I was thinking that I might change into something more comfortable like a pair of gym shorts I had worn to my pilates/yoga class if he did indeed think it would take some time to repair the A/C and the brush up was to encourage him to take his sweet time.

 

[prognosticat]

"So, what do you like to listen to? I listen to everything from Enya to Evanescense and Nickelback. Got any requests? If you feel up to it, I might even let you take over for a sec if I'm sure you're up to it."

"Yeah, I like a lot of stuff, too. I guess I'm kind of a prog snob when it comes right down to it. I love Pink Floyd, and these days I've been listening to Mostly Autumn a lot. But I'll listen to other stuff, too. Natacha Atlas is good. Really, I care more about whether it's good quality music than what genre it is." It made him feel a lot more at ease to talk about music instead of the rather alarming prospect of his name being broadcast over the radio.

Then she came up behind him, peering in at the air conditioning unit, its front panel set aside.

"Any ideas what it might be? Will it be a while?"

She leaned forward, just a little more. He could feel her breasts lightly touching his back.

"Uh, yeah. I - I think I've figured out what's wrong. You know I'm, I'm not certified to work on refrigeration systems, but... but fortunately this is a problem with the control unit, and I do know electronics. It looks... It looks as if somebody was too rough with the temperature control. This pot is all bent up and it's lifted a trace off the PC board. Can, can you see that in there? Right in there." Dan pointed to the damaged area with a small screwdriver, and Grace drew in even closer to look at it. Her breasts were now pressed firmly against his back, and Dan began to feel a stiffening in his jeans.

"I can fix it, but I'll need to get a new potentiometer. I'll have to order one and it'll take a few days to get here. But until then, I can just solder a jumper across it that'll make it run full blast. You'll have to turn the unit completely off when it gets too cold, but... but it should be better than nothing until I can get it fixed properly."

 

[kimberlee]

I smiled to myself as I heard him talk about music. I sensed that he was more at ease now. He'd even asked me if I could see where he was pointing to after my body had brushed up against his. He likely loved music and really got into his work. I thought he was sweet.

I excused myself telling him I was going to slip into something more comfortable and more suitable for the current temperature. I backed away and thanked him for showing me the problem in the circuit board.

I walked to my gym bag and - facing away from Dan - removed my shirt and began searching for my sports bra. I knew it had to be at the bottom of my bag somewhere.

My head jerked up as I noticed a light out of the corner of my eye. The same one that appeared when a song had finished. I quickly covered my breasts with one arm as I hurriedly rose and took my seat once again.

I leaned into the mike and said, "Hello people. I haven't forgotten you. I was just busy talking to my main man, Dan. I've got a request. It seems that our tech support guy loves Pink Floyd, Mostly Autumn and Natacha Atlas among others. So I found something I hope he'll enjoy. A live recording of Mostly Autumn paying tribute to Pink Floyd."

Now into DJ mode, I absently dismissed my topless situation and focused on 'the show.' "So, for the next eight to nine minutes, I suggest you sit back, relax, grab a cold one - soda of course, can't encourage underage drinking on the air - and get comfortably numb. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fDPTWIWDNqg

Once it was started, I sat back with a smile of satisfaction. I'd pulled it off and gotten the ball rolling with only a very short pause. I winked at Dan when he looked my way and noticed his eyes were looking a bit further south than usual. I think we both blushed as we realized he was seeing my breasts. It was especially embarassing since I do tend to get a touch excited while on the air and knew my nipples were undeniably erect.

"Sorry about that Dan," I said as I covered up and resumed my quest for the ellusive sports bra. "I just got caught unawares and you remember how I said you transform into your alter-ego. I can't believe I actually forgot." I shook my head in wonderment. I wanted to draw him in, not scare him off. I also wanted Dan to think of me as other than a nympho who'd fuck most anything that had a heartbeat. He'd get more confidence in himself if he believed it was he who had attracted me rather than just being in the right place at the right time.

 

[prognosticat]

Damn.

When she had mentioned changing clothes, Dan had assumed she was going to put on another song and dash out to the restroom. He had no idea she was going to be taking her shirt off right here in the studio. He'd already gotten the impression that some of the DJs viewed the studio as a semi-private place -- especially those with the overnight shows. But he wouldn't have expected her to treat it as her own personal dressing room.

"Sorry about that Dan. I just got caught unawares and you remember how I said you transform into your alter-ego. I can't believe I actually forgot."

Sorry? He wasn't. It wasn't every day he got flashed at work. If it weren't for the overall awkwardness of the situation, and the frustration of knowing he would have to go home to his apartment alone tonight and beat off furiously into a tissue with the image of her gorgeous, perky tits stamped indelibly in his mind, he would have have had no problem whatsoever with it. He wanted to tell her how much he liked her alter-ego, and how jacked-up on hormones and adrenaline he felt. The situation being what it was, however, he thought it best to shrug it off. She was probably in the habit of a quick change in here and forgot, like she said. Forgot he was even here, he had no doubt.

Comfortably numb. That's how he'd been for so long, and how he needed to remain now.

"Hey, that's alright. No harm done. I - I was just going to plug in the soldering iron here and solder in that jumper wire so you can get some cool going on. It shouldn't take me too much longer."

He hoped it wouldn't anyway, because he needed to go somewhere and whack off like a motherfucker.

 

[kimberlee]

I found my navy blue gym-shorts and after a quick glance at Dan, stripped out of my jeans and pulled the shorts on. I wondered whether or not he'd seen the rest of the peek show as I placed my jeans into the gym-bag; but, still had trouble finding my bra. I'd had it during kickboxing and yoga. Where the hell had I put it?

I had to remove most every item from the bag before I found it. "Finally," I sighed as I slipped it on. I then sat back in my chair listening to the music. Unfortunately, that was all that could be heard. My poor techie appeared so intent on his work and getting out of there. I had seen hints of a bulge in his jeans and figured that he'd return downstairs and jerk himself off to his memory of my tits. I wasn't sure whether or not he had seen a pair up close and personal. While his fantasies of me might help out in drawing him in, I also knew it could just as easily set me on a platform and create a distance between us. I didn't want him worshipping me from afar and so once the song had played itself out, I addressed part of the situation to the unseen listeners.

"Welcome back everyone. I have to admit that I really like that song. I still feel that Pink Floyd has a certain 'je ne sais quoi' that puts them above any others who have played that song; but, Mostly Autumn definitely comes in a close second.

"Now, before I send you all more music for your listening pleasure, I have something of a dilemna on my hands and was wondering if you might help me out. I'm used to having the booth to myself when I'm your DJ and I've already mentioned just how hot it is in here. Well, I decided to make a quick change into my gym-shorts and sports bra. Only, the song ended earlier than I had expected and I unknowingly gave my T man, Dan, a good long flash of my boobs. Yeah, that's right. I had trouble finding my bra and ended up topless as I introduced this last song.

"So, here's the problem. Shouldn't I get equal compensation from Dan or should it be chalked up as an accident and just forgotten about? Second, if I am to get compensated; what would be considered equal? I mean, guys, you go around bare-chested whenever the mood strikes you, so while he does look like he's probably got a good looking chest. Girls, he looks like he works out and keeps those muscles tight without being muscle-bound. Definite eye-candy in my book.

"I'll give you all a little time to think it over. In the mean-time, here's Natacha Atlas with 'Whatever Lola Wants." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r5-A1vqTGJk

 

[prognosticat]

Dan tried to concentrate on his work. He plugged in the soldering iron and turned it on. As he waited for it to heat up, he heard the rustling of clothing. He didn't want to be caught staring at her, but couldn't resist the urge to grab another eyeful of her luscious body. He supposed that if she was going to take her clothes off in the same room with him, she couldn't complain too much about what might cross his field of vision.
He glanced up briefly and saw Grace sliding her jeans down her legs. She was leaning over her gym bag with her back turned toward him. He could see from her naked shoulder blades that she still hadn't put anything on her top – all she wore at that moment were her panties.

He looked back down. The indicator lamp on the soldering iron had turned off, meaning it was at its set temperature and ready to use. He began following the broken trace back to find something suitable to solder onto. His hands were trembling and his heart raced. He rolled a length of wire off a spool and stripped the ends.

"Now, before I send you all more music for your listening pleasure, I have something of a dilemma on my hands...”

“Holy shit,” thought Dan. Now she was telling everybody exactly what had happened! He tried to tin the ends of the wires, but he could hardly keep the soldering iron steady.

“...I unknowingly gave my T man, Dan, a good long flash of my boobs.” What the hell was she doing? Now people all over campus were going to be coming up to him, asking him questions about her tits! Certainly the other DJs were going to give him shit about it. He could feel his face heating up like the tip of the soldering iron.

"So, here's the problem. Shouldn't I get equal compensation from Dan or should it be chalked up as an accident and just forgotten about?” Well, with the story broadcast all over campus and beyond, there was no way it would be forgotten about. He could be glad for once that he wasn't that well known around campus. Maybe nobody was really paying attention, anyway.

“Second, if I am to get compensated; what would be considered equal? I mean, guys, you go around bare-chested whenever the mood strikes you, so while he does look like he's probably got a good looking chest. Girls, he looks like he works out and keeps those muscles tight without being muscle-bound. Definite eye-candy in my book.”

What was her game? She had to be joking. She was teasing him, making fun of him, surely. Works out? Very likely. It was true that swimming and working at the appliance center in the summers did keep him from becoming a total flabbo. But she was just saying this stuff to entertain her audience, or stave off the boredom of the night shift. She didn't really want him to take off his shirt, did she? Girls didn't really get off all that much on seeing guys' bodies, unless they were total beefcake stud-muffins, did they? He certainly wasn't eye-candy. Perhaps he could just pretend he hadn't heard her. But that wouldn't work. This was a radio studio. There was no question but that he had heard her.

Maybe just putting it all out there like that was just her way of breaking the tension of an awkward situation – turning it into a joke so it wouldn't be as embarrassing. As he tacked on the jumper wire, he decided that that was probably the best explanation. It's only embarrassing if you take it too seriously. Maybe the best response he could give would be to play along with her game. They'd get a good chuckle out of it if he whipped off his shirt. Then he could go get some quick relief and they could both get on with their work.

As the next song played, he put the cover back on the air conditioning control unit. He switched it on and cool air began to flow out the vent. He put his tools back in the toolbox, switched off the soldering iron, and let it begin to cool down. He stood up and faced DJ Grace. She was now wearing shorts and her sports bra, which still revealed quite a bit more skin than he'd ever encountered in the radio studio.

“So, you think you need some compensation, huh? As if fixing your A/C wasn't enough?” He was grinning, as much from embarrassment as anything else. He tried to be breezy and nonchalant, but his pulse was still elevated and he was sure his face was probably red.

She just sat there, smiling, with an expectant look on her face.

Dan pulled his blue t-shirt up and over his head.

“There. Satisfied?” He turned around in a circle, giving her a full view of his exposed torso. When he had completed a full circle, he bent down again to see if the soldering iron was cool enough to put in the toolbox.

 

[kimberlee]

The song had barely started before the first calls started pouring in. I was going to let them be until the song finished. After all, I'd told them I was giving them time to think about it.

I had been on the verge of asking him to excuse my behavior but the lines were quiet and I knew something like this would liven things up. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised when he pulled his t-shirt off and said, “There. Satisfied?”

I couldn't help but grin as he made a slow 360 then returned to work, topless. I think I let out a wolf-whistle in there somewhere. I could see him turn red and decided not to make too big a deal about it. I rose from my seat and walked up behind him once again.

"Hope I didn't embarrass you too much. That's a soldering iron right? My ex was something of a techie and I kept him busy in more ways than one. Electronic gadgets just seem to have a much shorter lifespan than usual when I'm around. I honestly admire you guys and have always been fascinated at how you do what you do. All I do is BS on the the air. You guys keep everything going so I can do what I do and entertain whoever might be listening this late in the night," I said as I watched him work for a few.

I sighed as I turned back, "My listeners await."

The song was winding down and I chose just that moment to pick up my first call. "Hello, this is Grace on WMAN and you are on the air."

A feminine voice came through telling us all that she thought it wasn't fair that guys got to go around topless whenever they wanted and that Dan needed to flash me his cock in return.

"I don't know, hon. Wouldn't that just be taking it to the I'll show you mine if you show me yours stage. Besides," I said smiling, "he's working without his shirt on. Mmmmmm, mmmmmm, mmmmmmm. I think we've sort of found our own level of equality."

I took one more caller, "Just one more caller before we get back to the music. Hello, this is Grace on WMAN radio and you are on the air."

This time a masculine voice spoke, "Why don't you just both get totally undressed and fuck on the air? Would you feel fully compensated then, bitch?"

"Okay, I'm not even going to dignify that with a response. Back to the music. From my seated position and the view I've got I'm thinking 'Yeah!' so lets join Usher for a few minutes." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NiXbRBS5Z58

 

[prognosticat]

It took several minutes for the soldering iron to cool down to the point where it would be safe to put back in the toolbox, so Dan tried to look busy while he waited.

He thought she dealt with the inane callers pretty well. The FCC would probably get complaints about the language, though it wasn't the first time questionable content had slipped through on late night campus radio. He hoped Grace wouldn't get in trouble. Now he knew for sure that there were people paying attention. Just another in the long string of embarrassing episodes that made up his life.

The iron was finally cool, so he stuck it in the toolbox.

“Ok Grace, I've got it working. Like I said before, it's only got two settings for the time being: full blast and off. I'll get another potentiometer on order and come back next week or whenever to put it in. See, I've got it on right now. The power switch is built into the broken pot, so to turn it off you'll just have to unplug it. If you come over here I'll show you how it works.”

The cool air felt good on his bare chest. It had been pretty hot in the studio.

 

[kimberlee]

As the song began, I relaxed against the back of the chair. My plan had been to get Dan in here and to 'accidentally' broadcast the two of us having sex. I had figured that nothing could boost his ego more than the sudden interest of most every female listener on campus. However, the last caller was causing me to wonder about taking such measures.

The Sisters of the Mercy Fuck Network were all about helping others gain self confidence and hopefully increase the client's quality of life - not just the person's quantity of sex, although more aften than not the two went hand-in-hand. I was still new to the Network and so wasn't as certain as to how to approach the problem as a more experience Sister might have been.

I decided to set my original plan aside for the moment. I imagine that it really depends on the client's needs. Dan desperately needed a good solid jolt of confidence in himself. Perhaps the drastic measures I was planning to take wouldn't be necessary. I'd test the waters first and get a better feel for what was needed.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by Dan's voice, “Ok Grace, I've got it working. Like I said before, it's only got two settings for the time being: full blast and off. I'll get another potentiometer on order and come back next week or whenever to put it in. See, I've got it on right now. The power switch is built into the broken pot, so to turn it off you'll just have to unplug it. If you come over here I'll show you how it works.”

I rose from my seat and approached him walking right behind him and to the side until I was pressed against his back and right side. My nipples were poking at the cloth of my sports bra and my daisy-dukes just barely covered my silken underwear.

I looked and leaned in closer as he pointed out the damage I'd caused and then what he'd done to bypass it. I reached for the plug and brushed up against something - a bulge in his jeans. Oh my. "So, what you're essentially saying is that if it's too hot, I need to plug it in. And when it gets too cold, I need to unplug it...?" I said leaving the statement as a hanging question.

 

[prognosticat]

Remembering the feeling of Grace's nipples on his back the last time she came to look over his shoulder at the damaged air conditioner, Dan had wondered if he'd get a repeat performance when he called her over to see how to work it with his temporary fix. Almost too good to hope for, but again Grace's breasts came into contact with his back (now bare) as she peered over his shoulder. It was true that there wasn't a lot of space in the studio, crowded with equipment. But if she had wanted to keep from touching him, she could have stood back a few inches and still seen what he was trying to show her.

Then, as she reached for the power cord, her hand brushed across his cock, ram-rod stiff behind his jeans. Accident or no, now she couldn't help but be aware of the state she'd gotten him into.

"So, what you're essentially saying is that if it's too hot, I need to plug it in. And when it gets too cold, I need to unplug it...?" she asked.

What Dan desperately wanted to say was something naughty like: “No, when it gets too cold you plug it in. Then unplug it when it gets hot. Keep plugging and unplugging until things are just right. Or were you talking about the air conditioner?” But he still couldn't bring himself to be quite so forward.

“Yeah. Yeah, you got it right,” was what he actually said.

Part of his brain was screaming at him: “Dan, she's coming on to you! She let you see her topless. She made you take your shirt off. She's pressing her tits up against your bare back, and she practically grabbed your hard dick through your jeans. Take a hint! Play along! Who knows what might happen?” But that part of his brain had to compete against deeply entrenched habits of behavior. Keep your head low. Don't call too much attention to yourself – the attention you receive isn't likely to be pleasant. Expressing interest in others is an invitation to rejection.

This side of him reasoned that she was probably just really physically demonstrative and uninhibited. It was a subconscious show. Part of the act. The alter-ego she put on as a DJ. Maybe the flirty behavior and casual attitude about being half-undressed in the studio was just part of her own defense mechanism against the cruelty of the world. Act like it's no big deal, and you won't be hurt by it. She doesn't mean anything by it. It's like guys making dick jokes – it's just a way to be funny. Besides, a girl like that must already be taken. She couldn't really be interested in him – even just for a romp.

But. What if he called her bluff? What would the worst case scenario be? Well, she could slap him, kick him in the nuts, and scream “sexual harassment,” that's what. He had a bad enough case of blue-balls as it was. He would probably lose his job, maybe get kicked out of school. No. The risk was too much to take.

How could he keep her near him? How could he keep her touching him, holding her delicious titties against his back just like she was, without groping her or saying anything he couldn't plausibly deny had any sexual connotation? If he could figure out how to invite her to be near him, so that she had the option to come as close as she wanted, he could better convince himself that she was really directing her attentions his way before making any aggressive moves himself.

But what could he do? He didn't have the time to come up with any clever ideas, and he wanted to avoid the potential awkwardness of overstaying his welcome. Besides, he needed to get the hell out of here and masturbate. The only thing he could think of was to keep up with the technical talk. He knew it wasn't the least bit sexy. All the more reason that if she were willing to stick around for it and feign interest, he would know she was really taking an interest in him. Or maybe she was just lonely and bored. Even that would be a point in his favor.

“So here's the broken potentiometer.” He held it up so she could see the damage: not so close she'd have to back away to focus on it, and not so far that she was forced to stay up against him to see it if she had wanted to back away.

“A potentiometer is a variable resistor. When you turn the knob it moves the little wipers in there – you see? Then that changes the resistance, and that varying resistance determines how cold it gets. And then there's a switch built into this one, so if you turn it all the way past the highest resistance, you can switch it off. See how it's all bashed up and mangled? It looks like somebody was whacking on it with something heavy. See, the plastic knob's kinda broken, too. I'll try to fix that with some epoxy. So the wire I soldered across the circuit where this used to be provides essentially no resistance, so it's on full blast. No resistance... Hey, I wonder why somebody would beat on the thing like that. That's no way to take care of the equipment.”

 

[kimberlee]

I turned a light shade of pink when I realized how my words might all too easily be taken. I waited to see if he'd pick up on it and play with it. He paused for a time before saying, “Yeah. Yeah, you got it right.”

I had been fairly certain that his response would have been much as it had been. Still, a girl can hope. It would just take a little extra attention. I sensed that he was struggling with himself. I simply needed to help him work past his insecurities.

I leaned in a little closer as he pointed out the potentiometer and all the other damage around it.

“A potentiometer is a variable resistor. When you turn the knob it moves the little wipers in there – you see? Then that changes the resistance, and that varying resistance determines how cold it gets. And then there's a switch built into this one, so if you turn it all the way past the highest resistance, you can switch it off. See how it's all bashed up and mangled? It looks like somebody was whacking on it with something heavy. See, the plastic knob's kinda broken, too. I'll try to fix that with some epoxy. So the wire I soldered across the circuit where this used to be provides essentially no resistance, so it's on full blast. No resistance... Hey, I wonder why somebody would beat on the thing like that. That's no way to take care of the equipment,” he said.

I listened as if interested. I smiled as I saw him relax some as he lost himself in his obvious interest in electronics. It was something he was good at and while circuits didn't exactly work like honey it attracting desired attention, it let me see what he was like when he was himself.

"It does look rather beat on, doesn't it?" I said, thinking to myself that now knowing where the potentiometer was and what it looked like, if I found myself in similar circumstances I'd be better able to make it look like an accident. I had been certain I'd covered my tracks and I'm sure it would have to someone who didn't really know much about circuitry - like myself. However, Dan was in his element and knew what he was looking at.

"Is it good to go? Is it ready to plug it in?" I asked. "Excuse me," I said as I reached between his legs with my left hand to grab a second section of the power cord and gradually worked my hands back and forth until I held the plug in my right. I then eased my hand from its position and grazed something that was most definitely rigid and making Dan undoubtedly uncomfortable. "You want to put it in or should I? If it's safe that is..."

 

[prognosticat]

He didn't know why he was torturing himself like this -- sticking around while she teased him in her sports bra: so tantalizingly close; so sexy. He knew it wouldn't go farther than some harmless play. What he needed was some relief.

But then she reached between his legs to pull up the end of the power cord, and again she let her hand glance off his denim-armored woodie. As long as she was going to keep playing this game, he was going to hang around. Maybe she was just trying to tease him, jerk him around, lead him on, and then send him out with aching nuts. It was still more attention than he'd ever received from all the other girls he'd known in his life, and he was going to soak up whatever he could get of it.

"Yeah, it's safe. No problem," said Dan. "Go ahead and plug it in."

He could have moved out of her way, giving her free access to the outlet. But instead he continued to stand there, with his legs slightly apart, forcing her either to say "excuse me," and ask him to move, or to get down on her knees in front of him and reach between his legs to get to the receptacle.

 

[kimberlee]

I hadn't meant to be quite so forward yet; but, I had felt a need to distract him from the fact that I had sabotaged the air conditioner. I handed him the plug and whispered in his ear, "Can you hold onto it for a bit? I have to see to my listeners. I'll be right back."

I still wasn't sure about my latest course of action. But, if I let him go in his condition; I'm sure he'd classify me as nothing more than a tease and do his best to stear clear of me. Then again, he seemed to enjoy the attention he was getting from me. What to do, what to do...

I sat back in me chair and swiveled until I was facing the mike.

"Hello, all you out there. These last few seconds have been sponsored by whitenoise. I haven't seen the movie or read the book but I hear it's a thriller. Speaking of Thriller, what are you doing on Halloween?" I asked the audience while looking at Dan and raising an eyebrow in emphasis to my query.

"Sorry, I was late; but, my mad, Dan, was busy filling me in. It was downright electric. As a big thank you to him - and since no one's called in any requests - here's a tune from Dave Gilmour recorded live in 2010. Shine on you crazy diamond." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HwA0LoOfa3M

Once I've got the song started, I rise and walk over to Dan. "Where were we, again?" I ask.

 

[prognosticat]

Well, she hadn't gone for it. Instead of getting down between his legs (as if he could expect she would actually do that) she handed him the air conditioner's plug and scrambled back to the console to start up the next song.

He liked the way she'd whispered in his ear though. Clearly she could have told him what she was up to in a more businesslike manner. But he felt like a bit of a dork, standing there with no shirt on, holding the limp end of an electrical cord between his legs.

When she announced the next song, and he heard those first few mournful notes, he knew he had the excuse he'd been waiting for to hang around the studio at least a few more minutes. He'd told her he was a Pink Floyd fan, and the Mostly Autumn Floyd tribute was a good call. Without a doubt she was playing this for him. But she couldn't have known that this piece of music had special meaning to him. There was no way he was leaving while this song was playing.

Remember when you were young?
You shone like the sun.
Shine on you crazy diamond,
Now there's a look in your eye
Like black holes in the sky.
Shine on you crazy diamond...
​

That pretty much summed up how he felt so much of the time, since those dark days when he was the class whipping boy, the reject, the lamer, the freak, the laughing stock. Yeah, it was a long time ago now, and he'd kept from feeling too sorry for himself, for the most part. He put up a pretty good "fuck-you" face when he needed to, but tried not to come off looking like a jerk most of the time. But it does something to you to have an experience like that. This song just said about everything that needed to be said about it. And it was a waltz. How cool was that?

"Where were we, again?" asked Grace, when she returned from the console.

Dan stood there shirtless, holding the appliance's plug an inch from the obvious bulge deforming the front of his jeans, his expression somewhat changed from before.

"Well, I think you were about to plug in the air conditioner. You know, I can't leave now. This is my favorite song. I gotta hear the whole thing. You better get that A/C plugged in. It's just getting hotter in here all the time."

 

[kimberlee]

He stood there caught up in the music. I had put the song on for him but hadn't known it was his favorite until he told me so just now. I stopped and listened to it for a short while before returning my attention to Dan. I took the plug from his hand and knelt before him.

I reached between his legs - the bulge in his jeans just inches from my face. I was having trouble getting the plug in without looking at both it and the outlet. But rather than ask Dan, who continued to stand transfixed by the beauty that made up the song currently on the air, I reached in with my left hand to feel the outlet's position. I ended up resting my face against Dan's leg as I worked the three pronged plug into the outlet by touch alone.

It took a while longer but Dan didn't seem to mind having my cheek pressed up against him with only the barrier of his Wranglers separating the two. I had to latch onto one of his legs - once the deed was done and the A/C started up - to keep from falling on my ass. I used that same hold to help me up to my feet.

"Sorry 'bout that, hon," I said apologizing for whatever discomfort he'd felt when I'd reached over his belt and the tips of my fingers had momentarily slipped under into his pants.

I tilted my head slightly as I listened to the song. It had played about halfway through. I slipped my arms up around his neck and gave him a quick kiss. I honestly don't know why I did it. there was just something in his eyes as he listened to Dave Gilmour work his magic with his guitar and vocals with this song that seemed to draw Dan's soul up into his eyes. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

I forgot about the sisterhood for a while and stared into his soulful eyes. "Dance with me?" I asked, then almost laughed when I realized we had already, unknowingly begun moving to the music.