Arena Ch. 07

Book #2: Arena

Chapter 7

Saturday evening, Todd makes a change to the Immersion Playground store front, announcing a call for extras. The notice is discreet, but unknown by Todd, Sunday morning Immersion Playground has more than three hundred interested inquiries in the mailbox he'd set up to receive them. By Sunday evening the number had swelled to nearly eight hundred, and by late Monday evening, nearly three thousand responses are awaiting review. As word spreads that Immersion Playground is looking for extras for their next immersion, the pace of inquiries increases exponentially. By Tuesday afternoon another 11,453 entries have been received, with the rate of receipt still increasing.

Todd eyes the number of entries in the mailbox and swallows hard, many dozens of new entries arriving every minute even as he watches. While he had every confidence that he'd be able to find the five hundred people they needed to fill the arena, this exceeds his wildest expectations. He removes the notice from the store and contacts Rick.

Rick receives Todd's ping while in a meeting with the other three partners of Feedback Alive. They were discussing the direction of the company now that there's a steadily rising revenue stream. Rick wants to keep the company private, while another partner wants to begin the process of taking it public. The disagreement is businesslike and cordial, but the issue is going to have to be decided soon, one way or the other.

As soon as Rick is back in his office he pings Todd's. "Hi Todd," he says when Todd accepts the ping.

"Hey buddy. I got a problem and I need you to help me out," Todd says.

Todd sounds mildly stressed and Rick's heart skips a beat. "What's wrong?"

"Saturday night I put a notice up in the store asking for anyone interested in being an extra on Arena to drop us a line. I was thinking of giving the loyal customers a little perk, you know."

"Okay. So what's the problem? It's only been a few of days. Give it some time," Rick says. It's not like Todd to panic so quickly like this.

"No. You don't understand. I didn't even check the drop box until today, thinking we'd have a couple thousand or so. We have over fifteen thousand! I can't go through all of those by hand! Can you do some of that programming mumbo-jumbo you do and weed out some of them?"

Rick laughs at Todd's discomfort. "Yeah, I can probably help you out some. What do you want me to do?"

"I'd like to get the number down to twenty-five hundred or less. First, can you eliminate any that are not customers? I put the request in the front of the store, so really, anyone could send an application. Then, can you eliminate any that are solo, where their partner stream hasn't been accessed or not accessed much? Finally, I put in the request that extras had to be in, or arrange accommodations in, the LA area, but can we eliminate anyone outside of southern California?"

"Yeah, I can probably do that, but are you sure you want to arbitrarily eliminate everyone that isn't in California? I understand your reasoning, but if they're willing to get here on their own dime, do we want to exclude them? That doesn't seem fair. If we weight the selection to favor locals, if we lose a few due to last minute cancellations, it probably won't matter. We could even select a few locals as alternates in case some do back out, local or not."

Todd thinks it over. "Yeah, you're probably right. But you can do the rest, right?"

"Sure. I should be able to knock this out today. I will also setup an auto-response to kick out any new messages that don't meet the criteria so we don't have to wade through them again."

Todd heaves a sigh of relief, then chuckles. "Thanks. I nearly shit myself when I thought I was going to have to go through all those messages."

"Nah. I'm here for you," Rick teases.

"Thank god. I'll probably be back with more requests depending on how many responses are left after you weed some of them out, but at least now I know I won't have go through them all."

"Don't worry. I'll pitch in and help. Maybe Charlie and Giselle can as well."

"Thanks, Rick, I may take you up on your offer. I'm going to have to be more careful about stuff like this in the future."

They make their goodbyes and Rick looks over the mailbox, now containing over seventeen thousand entries. He quickly sets up a routine to compare the unique signature on the mail to the signatures on file for access to the immersion. If a match is found, the message is left. Otherwise it's removed with a polite message returned to the sender stating that because of the overwhelming response, only current customers will be considered for the extras positions. He runs the script over the mailbox, reducing the number to a more manageable five thousand, then leaves it running as an auto-responder to reduce the clutter for Todd's peace of mind. After the original script is in place, he begins modifying the script to flag the requests from customers with a local network address and customers where both streams are accessed at approximately the same frequency, allowing Todd to quickly select the preferred customer profile. It takes him nearly an hour of fiddling with the script before it works properly, particularly that which determines the location of the most common destination of the feed. When it's done, he's pleased with his hacks and has reduced the number of likely candidates from just over five thousand to under two thousand.

After he finishes cleaning up the mailbox he sends Todd a text ping letting him know the job is complete before he logs out of the Feedback Alive system. He's just getting into his car when Todd pings him back.

"Hello, Todd. Feeling better?" he asks by way of greeting.

"Much. Thanks for the help," Todd says, relief clear in his voice. "I'll go through these and weed out the obvious losers, the ones that can't compose a coherent sentence, things like that. I don't expect there to be many of those, though. If you and Giselle are willing, I'd like to rent a room at a hotel and set up some interviews. With the four of us working on it, we should be able to complete the interviews in a day."

"Interviews for what?"

"Mainly looking to make sure they look like people from the Roman Empire would look. No visible tattoos, implants, things like that. Try to get a vibe about how well they can take direction. Stuff like that. I figure five or six minutes with each couple should be more than enough to know if they are a yes, maybe, or no way in hell," Todd explains. "We'll set up a room with four tables, have them come in and talk to one of us. We'll mark down what we think, then bring in the next couple."

Rick mulls it over, once again wondering why he's even involved in Immersion Playground when Charlie and Todd so clearly don't need him around. "Sounds fine. Set it up and let Giselle or me know so we can plan to be there to help."

"Okay. Go ahead and plan for next Saturday morning. I know Giselle isn't going to be happy with me for scheduling on top of our regular tennis game, but we'll have a much better turnout on Saturday than any other day. Be sure to tell her the Saturday idea is yours and maybe she'll kick your ass instead of mine," Todd teases.

Rick can feel his penis twitch at the thought. "Thanks pal," he says sarcastically. "I have to live with her, you don't."

"True, but if I piss her off, she'll tell Charlie, then Charlie will be pissed that I made Giselle mad, so then I am getting it from both sides. Besides, these big decisions are the reason you're the president and I'm just operations."

Todd sounds way too happy for Rick's liking. "Uh-huh. You just want hear about Giselle beating the shit out of me again. I know."

"Well..." Todd says, drawing the word out, "There might be a little of that."

Rick chuckles. "Just let us know where and what time, and we'll be there."

"Let me get it worked out and I'll get back to you 'A' 'S' 'A' 'P'," Todd says, then signs off.

Rick is just pulling off the autodrive boulevard when Todd pings him with the information. They're to meet at the Beaumont Hotel from nine until three, Saturday, June twenty-first. He transfers the information to his calendar and sends a copy to Giselle's as well. Less than two minutes later, a ping arrives from Giselle.

"Are you getting tired of me beating you every weekend?" she asks in a teasing voice when he accepts the ping.

"Yes, but that's not the reason it's scheduled for Saturday. We can play tennis that evening. In fact, after being cooped up in a hotel room for six hours, I'm going to need to play."

"I agree, and that's fine. In fact, I think I'd like you and I to play against Todd and Charlie. We haven't done that in a while. It's getting too easy to win when we play boys against girls."

He can hear the teasing in her voice, but that doesn't change the fact that Charlie has improved her game to the point she is at least as good as Rick, maybe a little better. Giselle is clearly the best player among the four, so when Charlie and Giselle team up against Rick and Todd, it's usually a lopsided victory for the ladies.

"Sounds good to me. Todd and I are tired of getting beat, anyway. Our fragile male egos can only take so much humiliation."

"Not to worry my dear," she says, her voice full of teasing. "What skills you lack on the court you more than make up for in other areas."

"Well, okay, so long as I am appreciated for something."

"Oh, you are," she purrs. "You most certainly are."

He chuckles and makes his goodbyes. He is almost home, and it sounds like it is going to be a good night.

Todd stifles another yawn as his Honda drives itself along the boulevard. He'd gone way too late into the night reading the requests for the five hundred available extra positions, and he's feeling it this morning. Rick isn't a taskmaster, and he might have slept in a little this morning, except Sierra and Coy are coming by to be fitted for their gladiator uniforms. Charlie has somehow managed to get a well-known costume designer to agree to do the fittings and produce the costumes they'd need.

Todd opens the Immersion Playground office a few minutes after nine, and hasn't even completed his bagel and coffee, when the door pings. Sighing, he answers the door to find a short, frail woman of perhaps eighty standing in the reception area.

"Ms. Fawn?" Todd asks.

"That's right. Call me Donna," the woman says. She may look frail, but her voice is strong and commanding. "You Todd?"

"I am," he says, shaking her hand. Nothing frail about her handshake, either. "Sorry Charlie couldn't be here this morning. She told me that I should just get you what you need, stay out of the way, and keep my opinions to myself. Where would you like to set up?"

Donna Fawn laughs merrily. "I see Charlie hasn't changed a bit. Any place is fine so long as I have room to move around and good light."

"Right this way then," he says, holding the door open while taking one of the two bags the woman has. "I assume that you and Charlie have already worked out all the details on the costumes?"

"Yes. Charlie told me what you're doing, more or less, and the look she wants. She contacted me last week and gave me approximate measurements. Today we're going to have your people try them on and I'll pin and mark them for final fitting. I have to say, Todd, I'm much impressed by your company's first offering. If this immersion is as well received as your first, well, let's just say that's the main reason I agreed to do this."

He tries to contain his surprise that someone like Donna would experience their immersion... but as people say, eighty is the new fifty. "Thank you, Donna. That's a nice complement. Here you go," he says, ushering Donna into Giselle's empty office. "Can I get you anything?"

"Any more of that coffee I smell?"

Todd smiles. "Might be. How do you take it?"

"Black and strong."

"I can't do anything about strong, it's Starbucks, but black I can manage. I bought a couple extra cups just in case. I'll bring it to you while you get ready."

After returning with Donna's coffee, he hangs around, watching Donna lay out various articles of clothing when the door pings.

"Coy's here. You ready?" he asks.

"Send him on back." Donna says, sitting a plastic box in a chair.

"Coy! Good to see you again," Todd says, greeting the man with a handshake. "Come on back. Donna Fawn is waiting to see you."

Coy follows him to the back office, where Todd introduces them. It's funny how first impressions change. Donna no longer seems frail, but wiry and energetic, taking command of the situation.

"Good morning, Coy," Donna says. "Todd, you are free to go or stay as you like."

"I'll stay, if you don't mind, just to see a master at work," he replies, stepping back to be sure he's out of the way.

"Hah. I'm too old to fall for your flattery, but keep talking," she says before turning her attention to Coy. "Please remove your shirt so I can see what I have to work with." Coy complies. "Hmmm..." she hums. "Definitely want to show off your chest and arms, so I think just a subligaculum, maybe as a loincloth to make removal quicker and easier," Donna mumbles, thinking out loud. "Yes, a subligaculum, but with a belt. Okay, Coy, if you will strip down, we'll see how these fit."

"Here?" he asks, amused and alarmed at the same time.

"Yes, here," she says, her tone matter-of-fact. "Behind that screen. Honey, you don't have anything I haven't seen thousands of times before. If you can't get naked in front of one old woman, what are you going to do in a crowd of people?" She hears Todd begins to snicker. "Zip it, Todd, or you can leave," she barks without looking around. Todd instantly clams up, but Coy starts to laugh.

"I think I better do what she says," Coy says to Todd.

"I agree," Todd says, properly chastised.

Coy takes a deep breath and steps behind the screen to removes his pants, then his briefs, laying them neatly in a nearby chair.

Donna hands Coy a piece of thin, supple leather over the screen. "Put this on. It goes like this," she says, holding the subligaculum so Coy can tell front from back.

Coy slips the covering on. The leather reminds him of a cross between a diaper, a kilt, and perhaps very short shorts, with a flap in front to cover his manly bits. They ride high on his legs, but do offer tremendous freedom of movement, something that's probably important for a gladiator. He attempts to tie the belt behind his back before Donna steps behind the screen, slaps his hands away, and nimbly ties a knot. Coy steps from behind the screen.

"How's it feel?" Donna asks, tugging and pulling on the leather.

"Fine. A little snug and the leather is a bit... err... odd feeling."

"You're better endowed than I expected. I can adjust the fit there, and you'll get used to the leather feel," she says, inserting pins and making quick marks on the fabric with what looks like a thin bar of soap. "Besides, it won't be on long, now will it?"

Coy chuckles. "You're very matter-of-fact about all of this."

"Honey, I've been in the vid industry for more than fifty years. There isn't much that can shock me. Now, put these on," Donna says, handing Coy some sandals with long laces. "I can't decide about the sandals. What do you think, Todd?"

"What?" Todd says with a start. "What about them?"

Donna sighs. "Should we put them in sandals or not? What do you think?"

"I thought I was supposed to keep my opinions to myself?" Todd says with a grin. "Does it matter if they're in sandals? I know that when Rick and I were researching all this stuff, trying to determine how we were going to do this, there's evidence that some gladiators used shoes and some didn't. It depended on the type of gladiator."

Coy slips on the first sandal, then holds the long ties in both hands, obviously bewildered by how they tie.

"Like this," Donna says, crouching down and quickly wrapping the ties around Coy's ankle and lower calf in a complicated crisscrossing pattern before tying them off, and then tying the other one in the same manner. "Okay, stand up and let me look at you."

He stands, then slowly turns in a circle when Donna twirls her finger in the air. "I like it. We'll age the leather some to make it look more worn, adjust the fit a little, but other than that, I think I like it. We'll do something similar for Sierra. We'll pair up the subligaculum with a strophium."

"What's a strophium?" Coy asks. "Not that I knew what a subligaculum was until I was wearing it."

"A strophium is a wrap used to support women's breasts. Think of it like an ancient bra," she explains. "It could be made from linen or cotton, but we'll use leather like we used for the subligaculum."

"Oh," Coy says, though he isn't sure he knows any more now than he did before he asked the question. "So are we done here?"

"Mmmm..." Donna says, still looking Coy over. "I can't decide about the sandals. What do you think, Coy?"

"I'm fine with them so long as you're there to tie them," Coy says with his mega-watt smile while striking a heroic pose.

"I'll probably be there to help dress the extras," Donna says. "Okay, let's go with them. They look good on you and draw the eye to your legs. Yeah, I think we're done. Be careful getting undressed. Don't dislodge the pins or smudge the marks."

He steps behind the screen and carefully removes the leather underpants and redresses in his street attire, jeans, polo shirt, and loafers. Donna takes the loincloth from Coy and begins to pin it more securely to ensure the marks and pinning survive the trip back to her studio. She's putting Coy's subligaculum in a cloth bag when the outer door pings.

"That will be your next fitting," Todd says, moving rapidly toward the reception area.

Coy waits outside the office, both wanting to see Sierra and yet not. While he can't honestly say she's been all he's thought about since Friday, he did have to resist the urge to ping her several times over the weekend. He was afraid that if he talked to her, his resolve to avoid sleeping with her before they met on the field of combat, so to speak, would weaken. Not having her net address, requiring him to either locate her address, or ping the Roses or Chamfers to get it, helped strengthen his resolve.

Sierra walks into the office area with Todd, and the first thing she sees is Coy leaning against the door, looking good enough to eat in his jeans and light yellow shirt. She isn't sure how she feels about Coy not pinging her after jumping out of her Jeep Friday. Maybe the attraction he said he felt for her lasted only until he got his cock into his date Friday night. She thought she'd cooled toward him as well, but seeing him leaning against the door reminds her of how she felt rolling around on the floor, and that starts her heat rising.

As Sierra approaches, Coy pushes himself off the wall. "Hey." What the hell is wrong with him? He feels like a high school kid again trying to work up the nerve to ask a girl out on a date.

"Hey yourself," Sierra responded. "How did your fitting go?"

"Not bad. I didn't get stuck with a pin, so that's a positive."

"Sierra, come on in," Donna calls from inside the room.

Before he has time to think he bends down and kisses Sierra lightly on the lips. "Have fun."

His kiss is so fleeting she doesn't have time to respond, but smiles up to him afterwards. "Thanks. I'll try." He steps back to make room for Sierra and Todd to enter the room.

"Donna Fawn," Todd says, making introductions. "This is Sierra Pederson. Sierra, Donna."

"Nice to meet you Sierra," Donna says, holding out her hand.

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Fawn."

"Call me Donna. Todd, get out. You've seen all you need to see this morning," Donna says, ignoring him as she looks over Sierra. "Close the blinds and shut the door on your way out."