Foreword
Thanks to those of you who were kind enough to read and comment on my first submission of Realms of Eden Book 1 – Sydney comes of Age (it's in the Sci-Fi section). This is a rewrite of that book but from the story teller's perspective rather than first person.
My characters told me that they didn't think they got enough time in my first book having to rely on Sydney's view to get them noticed – so this is for them.
I have introduced a new character, expanded out some of them and given some more thought to how some things were happening.
Of course it now finishes before the first draft did – and the second book is almost finished to catch up the rest.
I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it and I promise book 2 will be up soon.
All feedback welcome.
Special thanks to CajunBill, dloold87 and zerses_01 who made me think Realms was worth all my effort.
Cheers
ACT 1 – Turning a sapling into a tree.
Chapter 1 – The end of childhood
An aqua light glowed in his mind and a soft whisper drifted across his thoughts.
"Stanton, honey, it is time for me to leave you for a while. I will return before..." the voice didn't finish its thoughts, both of them knew what she meant.
"He is born then?" he asked back.
"Yes and he will need me."
The glow dimmed then was gone. The man rolled over to his side, a smile played on his full lips and his dark-blue eyes closed as he resumed his interrupted sleep.
* * * * * * * *
As a young boy growing up Sydney Douglas had always found his parents difficult.
It was not the generation gap issue, rather, from a very young age his mother would constantly rant and rave about the world and how it was going to hell in a hand basket. A hand basket her son would be carrying.
The woman had been quite a beautiful lady when she had given birth to the boy, the result of a brief liaison with a handsome stranger whilst on holidays in the friendly island nation of Vanuatu. Now she was tired from the need to look after an unwanted child. Her father would have made life hell for her if she had aborted the pregnancy.
The messages of how the world was full of sin and ugliness from the indoctrination of the priests of a religious cult that she had joined, just after the boy had been born, turned her earlier simple and positive view of the world into one that saw it as uncaring and decadent. Her attractive face and body were neglected and began to reflect the view she held of the world. She continued to blame the bubbly, black haired, dark-blue eyed boy that her father doted on.
Meeting and marrying a man from the 'church' she had believed to have been her salvation, she focussed her vitriolic attacks on the world through the child, blaming him for the initial rejection of her by the man. She had debased and degraded herself in satisfying the man's sexual needs until finally he had asked her to marry him.
Peter Douglas was a big man, standing at almost two metres tall, weighing over 130 kilograms, the man was quick to temper and would use his fists readily. He had risen to the position of foreman in the aerospace plant, producing hover components, more by bullying and the use of those fists rather than any real capability of management.
As Peter Douglas listened to his wife's tirades about the world, the women in the neighbourhood, who she always assured him, were after his cock and were all nothing but sluts, he would nod and glance over her at his paper. He encouraged her to rant and deride the local female population, her constant fluttering arms and movement around the house caused her heavy breasts to move deliciously.
As he fucked her in their bed later in the night he would play on her fears, lying to her about how the woman down the street had flashed him on his way to work. Her furious movements of her body and desire to make him forget about anything that they had done allowed him to perversely use her body in any way he wished and finally have his seed exploding into her slutty throat.
Her obedience to his desires was the only thing that he tolerated about her. In his eyes the sallow fleshed complexion, thin body, her constant need for cigarettes and alcohol disgusted him but as long as she allowed him to fuck her arse, sucked his cock and occasionally felt his seed expend into her womb he would stay to keep an eye on the brat his masters wanted observed.
The mission had been easily enough undertaken when the woman was a soft and beautiful woman, just losing the additional weight she had gained during pregnancy, her full breasts lush with milk that she would allow him to taste. He now had regrets but he dared not defy his instructions.
Those instructions were changing now as the child began to grow and Peter Douglas decided that if it was necessary to be with the woman for any length of time that he would breed the bitch. Perhaps if she had a belly full of arms and legs she might just put some weight back on and his cock could once again be warmly encased in her full breasts. His sex with her changed to forcefully fucking her tight pussy, his rampant cock burying into her tight dry vagina at the most unexpected times, she accepted the treatment of her body from him as necessary to ensure his continued love.
She reflected her anger onto the boy, subjecting him to constant tirades about sin and depravity. Subtly she began to deflect some of the blows that she received from her husband towards the boy, directing his attention to the boy's evilness, real or imagined, revelling in the marks on the boy's face or buttocks from the man's large hands. Her son's retreat from her towards solitude and his look changing from love to fear, hardened her heart and she found that in some ways she actually enjoyed seeing his tears and bruised face. It certainly gave her satisfaction that her own marked buttocks and hips were not the only ones in her house.
The marks on her body began to diminish markedly as the boy grew, the punishments handed out by her husband to the skinny, freckle faced lad became more frequent. When he would order the boy out of his sight after delivery of stinging slaps of his hands or occasionally the belt of his pants, she would quickly shed her clothing and await the rampant thrusts of his cock into any orifice he requested.
Sydney did not see the wickedness of his mother as she catered to the desires of the man who had punished him. Many times he did not even know what the punishment was for and he would retreat to the sanctuary of the sports field with his small circle of friends or to the quiet escapism of the nearby local library.
The sports fields were Sydney's greatest refuge, for despite the lack of growth and size in his body, he was blessed with superb hand-eye coordination and excelled in sporting competitions, particularly soccer and cricket where he was a leader and much admired by his peers.
Academically the child was gifted, he and a small group of elite minds, excelled at school in friendly competitions of brainpower.
These outlets were all he had to emotionally support him, his hopes resting on either a sporting or academic scholarship to help him escape from the family home that was beginning to become a nightmare.
His father's physical punishment became more frequent as the years went on, his bullying nature totally exposing the boorish man who drank and ate to excess. His mother's love totally withdrawn with the death of her father not long after the boy's sixth birthday and she discovered she was pregnant.
Sydney's parents never watched him play sport or came to any of the presentations that saw him receive accolades from teachers and coaches for outstanding achievement in every field. In fact Peter Douglas took great delight in crushing the boys' pride in bringing home a scholastic prize at the age of seven by sneeringly remarking that second was really first loser.