Posting in LJ because the Dreamwidth posting function seems to be broken.
This poem fills a square on my card for the Kink Bingo fest. This fest encourages people to push the limits of their comfort zone by creating erotica, pr0n, smut, and other sexy stuff in the many flavors of kinky, sensual, and otherwise exotic activities. I'm hoping to attract some new readers for my writing.
The following story belongs to Schrodinger's Heroes, featuring an apocryphal television show supported by an imaginary fandom. It's science fiction about quantum physics and saving the world from alternate dimensions. It features a very mixed cast in terms of ethnicity and sexual orientation. This project developed with input from multiple people, and it's open for everyone to play in. You can read more about the background, the characters, and a bunch of assorted content on the menu page.
Fandoms: Original (Schrodinger's Heroes)
Kink: Temperature play
Summary/Preview: Evil!Schrodinger makes it snow in July. Ash and her friends play in the snow.
Additional Information: NSFW. Canonical asexual character (Ash). Tim is essentially asexual too, as his species does not understand human ideas of sex/romance. Canonical characters of color (Ash, Bailey, Kay, Pat). Dares. Nude snow angels.
Evil!Schrodinger made it snow in Texas,
a sudden cold snap of winter
in the middle of July.
Nobody knew how the white cat
had done it, so Alex had to figure out
a way to reset all the variables manually.
Even after she got the Teflon Tesseract
to recalibrate reality, it took a while
for the snow to stop.
The air warmed slowly,
and the bright Texan sun
glinted on the tiny flakes of ice.
Kay huddled in her winter coat,
shivering, too used to the summer heat
to adapt to the cold snap.
Even Ash had on a long flannel top.
Quinn laughed and walked outside
in a short-sleeved shirt.
"You'll catch a cold,"
"This is nothing," he said.
"I could play naked in this."
"Dare you," said Chris.
So Quinn shucked off his clothes
and pranced naked through the snow.
His nipples perked up, but he didn't shiver.
"Ten bucks if you make a snow angel,"
said Chris. Kay smacked him on the arm.
"Don't encourage him," she said,
but Quinn was already sprawled in the snow.
It looked like fun,
for certain nonstandard values of "fun."
Ash remembered the time she had attended
a midwinter powwow in South Dakota.
There had been snow then, too,
and an intertribal sweat lodge.
It wasn't her tradition, but she was curious,
and the intense heat had brought a heady sensation
of floating out of her body.
Afterwards, everyone had jumped in a snowbank.
Ash thought about that bright, fresh feeling
as she eyed the expanse of untouched white
draped over the Texan landscape.
Quinn was collecting his ten bucks from Chris
when Ash streaked past him nude,
making the French-Canadian yelp in surprise.
Ash flung herself to the ground,
almost swimming through the fluffy snow.
It was cold and wild, swallowing her whole,
smelling of starlight and tasting of metal.
She swept her arms and legs through it
to make an angel shape.
When Ash leaped to her feet,
her entire body was alive and tingling,
filled with a sharp bright energy.
All the blood rushed to her skin,
copper flushing almost brick red in response.
She laughed aloud with the giddy release of it.
Alex squealed as Quinn dumped snow down her back,
dancing and shaking her clothes to get rid of it.
Pat and Bailey looked at each other,
casting dares with their eyes,
and then stripped down to join the fun.
Kay glared death at anyone
who threatened her grip on the coat.
Chris, not wanting to be left out,
gamely joined Pat and Bailey
wallowing in the snow.
Even Alex made an attempt,
but gave up after just a few steps,
mincing her way back indoors.
Ash watched them all
as she rubbed a dry towel
over her damp skin.
The cold made her heart race
and her body's engine hum,
trying to make up for the lost heat.
It raised a level of excitement
that she rarely felt.
Ash tended to live in her body
without necessarily feeling
a close connection to it all the time.
So much of her was mind and brain
that she often treated flesh as an interface.
Yet now she could feel every inch of it,
vivid and fizzing and shivery.
Every erect hair rooted in its goosebump
was alert and prickling as Ash
dragged her clothes back on.
Perhaps, she thought to herself,
this type of stimulation might be
worth exploring further someday.
Then Tim the Tentacle Monster
left his own mark in Earth's silvered crust,
flexible limbs flailing through the drifts.
The result looked nothing like an angel.
Quinn leaned over to examine the impression.
"You made a Flying Spaghetti Monster!"
he exclaimed. Then he snapped a picture.
"This is going on the internet."
* * *
1) The sweat lodge is a spiritual practice best known in the Lakota tribe but practiced by others as well. It is gaining popularity among Native American people in general, and sometimes intertribal ceremonies are offered. (The practice is also popular in New Age culture with regrettably lower training and sometimes safety.) Ash is Witchita-Navajo but open to other traditions.
2) The Flying Spaghetti Monster is the iconic symbol of Pastafarianism.