I bring my man to my arms and hug him tightly for a minute. Without a word, I pull him from the bed. “Let’s go eat, then we’ll see what we can find for entertainment today.”
Ruby smiles, nodding. I’m going to make sure I see that smile every day.
CHAPTER 17
ROUX
There’s an enormous stone erection right outside the new museum of phalluses. It’s like eight feet tall with a smooth head, pronounced crown, and prominent veins in all the right places. It gets a little fatter just below the head before thinning out slightly again.
I can’t help but think this is modeled after someone specific.
“I really wish I could have my picture taken with this,” I say. Yep, I’m totally showing my age right now. Whatever. How often do you get to stand beside an eight-foot-tall cock?
“Smile,” a man with a camera says. I turn in time to look at him and laugh as he takes a picture. He winks and practically blends back into the crowd.
“How does he know it’s me when he gets back?” I ask.
“Facial recognition,” Oscar answers. “Your identification is on file. Not to mention, they’re recording you from the moment you step onto the property until the moment you leave, which means they have a whole lot of candid photos of you to train their software to recognize you from the controlled environments when you’re solo.”
“Huh,” I say and look up at the cock again. “That’s cool.”
“There’s a package where you can buy memory books thatthey personally put together for you,” Alka says. “It includes images of you and from around the island during your stay. They’re really damn good too. The images from around the island are pictures of places that we’ve been and would have seen. Like, we’ve never been to Bane, so there wouldn’t be pictures of Bane. ”
“Wow,” I say. “That’s pretty cool. How do they know?”
“Same software,” Oscar answers. “I also imagine that each photographer has a specific route, so if you’re in their photo dump of the day, they know where you’ve been. I think the software is also trained to recognize the surroundings and match your location.”
“Also, let’s be real. We know the bracelets track us,” Alka says, holding up his wrist with his rubber bracelet. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that all the software collectively gets a pretty accurate feed on where we’ve been, what we’ve been doing, and who we’re with.”
“Yet I can’t find it in me to care,” Oscar muses. “This isn’t the government. If someone wants to watch me all day, they’re going to get bored.”
“I’m not sure that says good things about your profession,” I say.
His smile climbs. His expression makes my stomach flutter.
“Trust me, if they seethat, they’re going to stay on the Oscar channel permanently,” Alka says.
I laugh, though I don’t doubt that at all.
A man stops at our group and hands us a brochure for the museum. I skim through it, noting a few little facts. A lot of these items are from the personal collection of the curator, a man named Elijah Cain. The historical items are primarily replicas from museums around the world.
“Look at this,” Alka says, laughing and pointing to the bottom of the page.
We understand that a museum dedicated to theworship of penises can be exciting. If you want to take your own out, that’s fine. You may do with it what you will. I’ll leave you with a warning and a promise. The promise first—you are being recorded for security purposes. Yes, we will see everything you do! And now the warning—if you get your bodily fluids on any part of my museum, you will be fined exorbitantly. I’ll use that money to bring in more erections for everyone to admire, and your name and mugshot will be attached to it for everyone to see as a donation of shame. Also, you won’t be allowed back. Respect my museum. -Elijah
I laugh. “I know rules are usually made because someone has done it before, but since this is the grand opening, I can’t imagine where that came from,” I muse.
“There’s a map on the back,” Oscar says, and I turn the pamphlet over.
The building is far larger than I anticipated. There are a dozen different rooms, ranging from collections like Ancient Egypt, Ancient Greece, Modern-Day Penis Parks, Pagan Ancestors, Fantasy/Space/Omegaverse species, Monster Erections…
“We’re totally stopping there first,” Alka says, tapping the Monster Erections room in the back. “I can only imagine what this means.”
“Oh my,” I say. Yep, definitely curious.
The crowd around us grows as the minutes tick closer to opening. Alka stands beside me, wrapping his arm around my waist. I lean into him, and we people watch as other men (and the occasional woman) stand beside the big stone erection.
I think this is the most women I’ve seen on the island since arriving, including those who work here.
