A
Lit-Con 2025 Event
story, in association with
Freya Gersemi
and
Emily Miller.
β§ β§ β§ β§ β§ β§
"What in the Nine Hells am I doing here?" I wondered to myself.
I stood in the lobby of the Grand City Hotel. Not a bad establishment, a little gaudy for my tastes, but it looked clean and well run.
"Welcome, Literotica Convention Attendees!"
Twin signs proclaimed the reason I was here. But not the why.
The why was... more complicated. I was a Vengeance Demon, Commander of Armies in service of The Queen Of Hell herself, Lucy Morningstar. So why would I deem to socialize amongst these mere mortals, at what was apparently some garish excuse for a porn convention / orgy?
Curiosity. That's what brought me here. And a strange invitation. An invitation I received in the mail, despite living completely off the grid in a cabin deep in the woods that I personally made sure no one, including the post office, had any official record of.
And yet there it was, on my floor: a plain blue envelope, shoved through a mail slot I didn't recall existing before. An envelope that had no right being there. Because in addition to my cabin being off the grid, I'd placed protective spells around it, spells guaran-fucking-teed to keep out unwanted intruders. If a squirrel so much as farted too close to my driveway I'd know about it.
Examining the envelope, there was no post mark, no stamps, just a single word. My name, my TRUE name, written in blocky manuscript:
"Cozbi."
Reaching out with my preternatural senses, I felt no aura of magic around it. In fact the vibe it gave off was distinctly human. Ripping it open, I found a single, thick card. On it was printed an invitation. Attached to the card was a Post-it note with a message hand written in the same block lettering:
"You should go. - DJ"
And so here I was, standing in line, impatiently twirling the invitation card in my hand as I waited my turn to check in. While I waited, I took in my surroundings, and more importantly, the ever increasing flow of people into the already crowded lobby.
I was impressed by the variety; all ages, shapes, sizes and genders. Some were dressed casually, some more formally, still others in wildly revealing and downright scandalous outfits. Which I absolutely adored, of course.
On the far side, a group dressed in leather BDSM gear chatted excitedly. Just behind me, several Furries sat resting on the lobby lounge chairs. Gathered by the elevators was a group that looked like they just walked off the set of Caligula.
As far as I could tell, the only thing any of these people had in common was they all were horny as fuck. The place reeked of pheromones.
Finally, I approached the check-in desk. The clerk eyed me hungrily, but managed not to drool on his tie. "Welcome to The Grand City Hotel. May I see your invitation please?"
I drummed my fingers on the desktop while he tapped away at the computer. "It might speed things along if you looked at the keyboard instead of my cleavage," I offered drolly.
His face turned almost as red as my nail polish. "Oh, um, yes, Miss, sorry, Miss, um... Ah, yes, here you are. Randi Fanin." His eyes couldn't hide his surprise. "Penthouse suite. Unlimited amenities. All expenses paid."
With a wide smile and an obvious struggle to maintain eye contact, he handed me my room key and a lanyard with a name tag card on it. "Enjoy your stay, Ms. Fanin. Your suite has been fully prepared and your luggage and packages have already arrived and been brought to your room. Your room key is also the key to your private elevator, follow the hallway down then to the left."
A small bead of sweat formed on his brow, and I didn't even need to look over the desk to know he was probably pitching a tent in his slacks as he took his shot. "If you need anything, anything at all, please feel free to call me. I'm James, you can ask for me directly, I'd be happy to assist you."
"Ha," I snickered. "Keep dreaming, James. Nice try though." As I turned and walked away, I made sure to exaggerate the sway of my hips to accentuate my denim clad ass. He was nice enough I suppose, so the least I could do was give him some mental masturbation material.
I pondered my mysterious benefactor as I proceeded down the hall. Whoever it was not only knew my true name, but apparently by the registry and name tag, knew my favorite alias as well.
Penthouse suite? All expenses paid? They'd certainly pulled a John Hammond alright.
As I keyed the slot and entered the elevator, I was determined to find out why.
β§ β§ β§ β§ β§ β§
The suite was, I had to admit, impressive. A spacious, open living room that could easily entertain a dozen people comfortably. Full kitchen... Ha! Like I cook. A bedroom bigger than most New Yorkers' apartments. Walk-in shower in the bathroom. A hot tub in the main quarters right next to a heated swimming pool; half indoors, the other half extended under and beyond the expansive window wall that offered a magnificent view of the city.
A giant, heart shaped bed was the centerpiece of the bedroom, complete with canopy and satin sheets. The walk-in closet was already fully loaded with a wardrobe any woman, mortal or supernatural, would kill for. All perfectly tailored to my size of course, although upon closer examination, there was also a section stocked with expensive lingerie in a variety of sizes. I suppose in case I had guests?
Speaking of variety, the boxes James had mentioned were well stocked with every sex toy one could wish for; dildos, vibrators, buttplugs, anal beads, nipple clamps, handcuffs, floggers, and on and on... oh and plenty of lube of course.
It was everything a spoiled, horny She-Demon like me would expect. And yet I had planned none of it. It was all just... there. As if someone knew my preferences, knew my kinks, knew... me.
I should have been worried about this, or at least suspicious. Yet none of it felt malevolent. And then there was the note, left on the nightstand by the bed, written in a now familiar script:
"If you need anything else, just ask. Have fun. - DJ."
Beside this note was a packet, outlining the events for the weekend. Tonight was the "Meet & Greet" in the Grand Ballroom, complete with a jazz ensemble and open bar. That at least sounded up my alley, although I had no idea who I was supposed to meet, let alone greet. Maybe this mysterious DJ would show his face there?
Scanning through the events for Saturday, I had to chuckle at several of the seminars on the agenda.
"How To Please A Man?"
- Pfft. Like that's tough.