Portal Project - The Lottery Games

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!"

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