A lovely woman recently commented on one of my Perfect Beginning stories and shared that it seemed "self indulgent." The sky is blue. Never truer. Dear readers, I begin all this thinking about what I'd like to read. How could it be otherwise? When I say that I write this for you, the reader, I mean that as well. I assume you might like it as you have followed mutual interest tags to find my story.
Nonetheless, this is very self indulgent.
Don't look for anything realistic in this. Nothing about this is real. As much as it excites me, I'd not want to live the life of the protagonists. Any of them. This is some fucked up shit. I hope you enjoy it.
Bear with the preamble.
*
The following is an outline of how this society operates. The Perfect Beginning provides a slightly more comprehensive description of the universe.
* People are legal adults at 18 years of age.
* People usually live to about 2,000 years of age.
* The cultural norm has almost all legal adults living with their family of origin until they turn 200 years old.
* Young people between the ages of 18 and 200 are treated as and referred to as children when they choose to continue living with their parents.
* Young people between the ages of 18 and 200 often behave much as we would expect teenagers to behave here in our world. They are kept in a state of arrested emotional development.
* Young people between the ages of 18 and 200 years customarily consume "blockers" which prevent them from having sexual feelings or impulses.
* Some young people will begin to "date" around 160 yers of age and while they are expected to continue to take their blockers, some will surreptitiously stop taking them while a few will stop responding to them.
* Age and masculinity are revered in this world. Everybody looks up to their elders and few seriously question the patriarchy.
All characters in the story are over 18 years of age.
It is customary for those below the age of 200 to demonstrate their status by wearing clothing which signify to others that they are off limits. They would wear what we would think of as children's clothing. Remember, an 18 year old and a 1,900 year old would look exactly the same age, so children's clothes are very useful for signaling to those over 200 years to abstain from any romantic or sexual pursuit of another who was deemed of an inappropriate age.
Lastly, sex is not technically illegal for people between the ages of 18 and 200 years. It is considered profoundly taboo. Adult-children (18+) do have sex but it is kept very quiet. Some parents punish their children for engaging in this sinful pleasure and adult-children almost never tell-on one another in this regard, even those who might not like one another. Adult children live by a code and violation of said code subjects one to complete ostracization. Almost none experiment until they are well over 160 years old.
*
"Hellen..." her tone revealed some degree of surprise, "hello." Carol communicated further puzzlement with her expression. "This is unexpected." She could not imagine a single reason why Hellen, a woman she'd not see in years, was standing at her front door. It took her only an instant to reappropriate her bearing and her grasp of decorum. "Would you like to come in?"
Helen entered looking tense and a bit disconcerted. "Carol," she dipped her chin, under the circumstances, the best she could do to acknowledge her hostess. "We have a lot to discuss."
Helen was clearly holding onto a great deal and seemed uncertain as to where to begin, though the same could not be said of Carol. "I'll get us some coffee. Back in a jiff."
*
The two settled down in the living room and after pleasantries, began a most intriguing conversation.
*
Peter was a changed man. He was a boy again, of course. His life was so strange and when he thought about all that had transpired, he felt a lightening bolt of dissonance that caused him to shudder. He could not help but to think all that had changed in his life, just happened to him. He felt himself as a victim. He knew he'd made choices, but it still did not add up. His life was the opposite of whatever vision he might have had about where he'd be at this point on his timeline.
He was a hypersexual and of course he did not choose this. These were the circumstances of his life, that which was beyond his control. He'd accepted this.
Yet he still could not fully accept that he lived the way he did. It was unacceptable! And little of it felt in his control. He was not even clear on how to describe his life, what it meant and how he felt about it, beyond confusion, uncertainty and dissonance.
Certainly there was pleasure. The pleasure he experienced was beyond his imagining. Yet it came at such an unacceptable cost. Was it unacceptable? Would he reverse it all with the push of a button?
Of course!
He responded to himself on the question with great certainty and indignation. How dare he frame his circumstances in the form of a question!
Of course I'd leave if I could! Fuck!
Every single day he experienced this unimaginable pleasure at the cost of physical, emotional and psychological pain that had broken his will. While he lived it, each day, for at least a few moments, he wondered how.
These special women had collard and leashed his soul.
Allison and Carol had easily and happily broken his will to assert himself or resist them, but this was another pain too great to look at. In the moment in which he questioned it all, he justified his choice to remain with them based on a belief that should he leave them, they'd ruin his life by publicly exposing what they'd done to him. This was what he told himself. They'd never explicitly said they'd do this, however.
He was not sure he was strong enough to simply push that button and that's what upset him so. For this reason, he could not actually face the unacceptable truth in this hypothetical question. He pretended the hypothetical was not really a question. With the push of a button, he could have it all back to the way it was. The truth of it was too painful to look at, but he knew the truth of it. After all, it was his soul that wore the harness.
There were forces at play which were far greater and more compelling than the humiliation of public exposure.
Of course he'd not push that button as the grip of addiction was far too powerful to resist.
*
Peter was in heaven. He was with Mommy and Mommy was so very good. Mommy loved him like nobody else in the world. Everything was about gentle love. There was love in her touch as she gently caressed his cheek. There was love in her warmth as he felt her lying next to him in the bed. There was sweet, loving intimacy in her tone as she whispered in his ear.
Love Mommy.
The boy was elevated to heights of love and desire he'd previously knew nothing about.
So pretty.
The tip of her pretty finger tip tranced oh so very gently along the length of his privates.
