The Mind Games Bk I Part Sweet Sixteen

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OK, this is getting distinctly weird...


Putting her left hand over her eyes and her right hand over her mouth she then drew them apart like an Arabian belly dancer to reveal featureless patches of smooth skin. Turning her palms outwards she showed me, and the VR studio audience, that her mouth now adorned her left hand and that her beautiful brown eyes now stared out of the right.  Several female spectators sitting in the first few rows on the left screamed.

Quaternity/Trinity/Tiffany then stretched forth her arms towards me. Like those of a woman seldom found they stretched, lengthened; parted the crowd in the lower block of seats on the left hand side of the auditorium like the red sea, and floated up towards me. By the time people in the upper block of seats were also parting to make way for them some of the men in the audience had also started screaming. My own virtual knees began to turn to water, along with the contents of my colon. I nearly had a very embarrassing and unsanitary personal accident.

The hands, with their newly implanted eyes and mouth, lined themselves up, right above left, into a thoroughly unnerving and angry looking parody of her face, inches in front of my own. The mouth spoke, in its own well educated Bostonian drawl, and everyone in the room could hear it because the volume was preternatural.

"Listen to ME, you craven, drug addled, aahsoo burnout... I've spent my whole adult LIFE growing and nurturing you. You've been my pride and joy; and you are the bloody SUBJECT of this lecture, as WELL as the guest of honour; key exhibit; and world premier simulcast, LIVE demonstration. And just because Rankin put that techy grunt up to letting HIM dress the Gleissner, you ungrateful JERK," It wasn't clear at that point whether she was addressing me or Trank, way to her left, "  ... I am not going to lose you to his assinine sense of humour and YOU are not, Not... NOT going to screw it all it up by chickening out now! If you don't walk down there like a polite little boy with Professor Young, and join the others behind that bench....

... I'm going to pick you up by your EARS, carry you over there myself.... and DROP you; right next to TRANK!"

Trank looked genuinely alarmed at that prospect. Professor Henry Markram had turned to face me and was shouting, "Martin! Are you all right? They told me it wass a silly, practical joke... I wass not warned.  LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!", he had shouted that loud enough to silence the entire hall, "This iss not funny! Look at what you are doing to him... he could be as human as you are... don't you understand?"
Mentz was hissing at Trank,  "I would have you fired, right here, right now... if we didn't need you as the Emm Emm Eye man... right now, you hear me? You stupid cunt! Security would whip you out of here so fast you're feet wouldn't touch..." I'm sure he would have said a lot more but then Quaternity shouted again;

"We don't have TIME for this shit!"  Her chestnut brown left eye winked at me, confidentially from the junction between her palm and her wrist and then closed. Those beguiling, long dark lashes shrank to nothing as the two eyelids welded themselves seamlessly together and then the resulting lump slid subcutaneously down her wrist and the eye reopened soon afterwards in her face nearly forty metres away. The remaining eye shifted sideways from its position with the outer corner poking slightly into the third joint of her middle finger to the centre of her palm, winked at my in the same coy but reserved way and then did what the first one had done. The fingers of her now eyeless left hand were briefly touched to the gently pouting mouth in the middle of her right hand; and she blew me a kiss.

That lovely mouth, like Lady Fuchsia's, with only with slightly less full and equally carnal and sensuous lips, then vanished abruptly as both hands reared back on their impossibly flexible and elongating wrists and struck at my upper arms like twin hamadryads. Dr Young had prudently let go of my right arm and a fresh pair of hands, with a grip strong enough to abash a small wood working vice, crushed my biceps against the underlying humerus in each arm, hefted me effortlessly ceilingwards and shook me several times up and down so that my feet only just touched the ground with each downward shake. Then, taking a firm grip on my  head with a hand over each ear she squeezed, with incredible pressure, until my skull was not quite cracking.

I could feel my neck stretching by several millimetres. She lifted me clear of the floor, and the studio audience, every member of which gaped in open mouthed horror suffused with wonder; and rotated her body while retracting her arms until they leant out from her shoulders, directly above Professor Markram's head. Whereupon, she dropped me from a height of about forty feet into the space between him and Trank, just as she had promised that she would.

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