Llara's Life

I'm a coward.

This is the only conclusion that I can come to having been standing on the edge, desperate to throw myself off and plummet the 36 stories to the street below, for almost 2 hours now but knowing that I won't go through with it. I lack the courage to see it through and whilst I deplore what I have become there is a little part of me which is eager to see how much more I can take, just how corrupt and degenerate I can become.

So ending it now isn't really an option for me.

They wouldn't like it if I did.

I'm far too valuable to them and they expect so much from me that I'm surprised I've managed to get this far without being hauled back down to be interrogated and then incarcerated, or worse, 'for the good of mankind.'

I used to believe in the system, in the lies that it was all so necessary 'for the good of mankind.' We were told that the survival of our species was in peril. Well, if this is survival, I'd prefer us to be extinct. The price is just too high. At least, it is for the women and probably for most men too although they tend to accept the global propaganda machine until it's too late and their lives are torn apart with fear, jealousy and desperation.

Is survival really worth the price we're paying?

It's so much worse for women who are beautiful, like me.

People may think me vain for believing so but that's not vanity coming to the fore, just my honest assessment as someone who once looked at things from a totally different perspective. I've seen my curves, my hair, my face, my body from every conceivable angle and yes, I'm beautiful. I wish it weren't so.

The duties, roles and responsibilities of women are clearly defined by The Legislature 'for the good of mankind,' and I once believed in all that. Although I never embraced it with enthusiasm and blind obedience, I did believe it to be the only way we could survive, never once publicly questioning the diktats passed down from one perverse, corrupt, unfeeling administration to another. Each one tightening and strengthening the laws of the previous officials until our lives are mapped out from the time we are born until our ultimate end.

But we are only paying for the evil mis-deeds of our ancestors. Or at least that is what we are told.

The world was a beautiful, vibrant, healthy place just a few hundred years ago, in the mid twenty first century. That was, until our greed and arrogance caused us to pollute it and strip it of its natural resources, causing mass extinctions of other species and, ultimately, global catastrophe. I have seen pictures and film of the wondrous creatures which used to share our planet but which we exterminated or caused to die out through loss of habitat and catastrophic climate change. Huge plant eaters and large carnivores once roamed the wild parts of the earth, cats bigger than people! All gone now.

All that is left are the last few dregs of humanity and a tiny number of small, hardy beasts which managed to survive the apocalypse. The thought that there used to be over seven and a half billion humans crawling over this tiny planet simply defies comprehension. And now we are just tens of thousands living at the extreme ends of the planet. All other areas are just too hot and barren to support life, stripped of their moisture and turned into desert wastelands.

The two civilised enclaves at the far north and south of our planet, each encircled by massive electrified fences to keep us safe 'for the good of mankind' and surrounded by untamed forests which are home to wild beasts, descended from those creatures strong enough to survive The Reckoning when Mother Nature took her vengeance on the plague which had corrupted and defiled her.

History shows us our folly. The heat, destruction and pestilence brought down on our species by Mother Nature all but wiped us out, as had probably been her intention. But some survived.

Never again will we be allowed to be so arrogant, we are told. Never again will we allow our population to climb beyond a number which She, Mother Nature, can sustain.

And, as we are only just surviving now, that means we cannot allow any population growth until the planet cools and allows us to move back out into our former lands.

Not that massive population growth is likely when only one in nine humans is a female. A strange consequence of one of the many diseases which ravaged the lands during The Reckoning and which means that now only one girl is born to every 8 boys.

How valuable, therefore, is every girl, every woman, at least until her productive years are over.

In order to maintain the current population, which is the desire and aim of The Legislature, each female must bear 9 children. One to replace herself and one each to replace the 8 males with whom she must procreate. Most girls and women accept this, albeit reluctantly. Not that it would matter if they didn't. The penalties for failure or for refusal to carry out their Global Duty are unthinkable. So women meekly submit to the life mapped out for them in the laws of The Legislature. Those who defy the laws are expelled beyond the fence into the wild place. From an early age all children are taught of the horrors awaiting anyone who ventures to the wild place. The beasts who will devour anyone they catch and the wild people who will capture and kill any civilised male and who will pass around any female captive and use her in every foul and depraved way imaginable, not even stopping when her life is over. It is said that no girl or woman in the wild place ever survives for long but suffers the most appalling and brutal abuse at the hands of hundreds of savages, often for months or even years, driven to a state of total madness by the constant, never-ending physical, emotional and sexual abuse. Perhaps such stories are true. Perhaps they are a gross exaggeration of the truth, designed to ensure our continued servitude and adherence to their regulations. The stories told of people expelled from the civilised enclave ensure compliance with the laws and an acceptance of the commands from The Legislature.

All dissent was long since suppressed. When people demonstrated against the enforced use of barren women in the pleasure rooms or of those beyond child-bearing years, or who had produced their quota of offspring and who refused duty in the pleasure rooms, being expelled from the enclaves the ringleaders of the revolt were, themselves, expelled from the safety and security of their enclave to die, or worse, at the hands of the wild men. No further opposition to the law was ever forthcoming and the current situation has remained unchanged for almost four centuries:

All girls must attend Global School from the ages of 4 to 18 where they will be taught their duties and responsibilities 'for the good of mankind.'

At 18 they are to take a male partner and produce 2 offspring before their 21st birthday.

On their 21st birthday (or at an earlier date if 2 offspring are produced from their first partnering) they will join the global population maintenance program (GPMP)

As members of the GPMP they will produce a further 7 children, each to be sired by a different male (no woman is to produce more than one child to any man other than her first partner and then never more than 2 to him).

THE PENALTY FOR FAILURE OR REFULSAL TO PRODUCE OFFSPRING WITH ANY NOMINATED MAN WILL BE IMMEDIATE EXPULSION FROM THE ENCLAVE.

I used to believe that this was the only way for mankind to survive, for women to be compliant and to accept their fate and servitude, receiving the seed of the 8 nominated males no matter how repellent they might find that duty.

And what of love?

Love exists, still. Through the teachings of the global schools we are taught that love between a boy and girl should be formalised with a partnership when she reaches her eighteenth birthday but it is a crime, punishable by expulsion for there to be any carnal knowledge between them before that time. Their partnership and loving life together will be a maximum of four years when she will be taken to join the GPMP 'for the good of mankind.'

I really didn't think I could face such a future. Whereas all other women have been taught how to think and behave appropriately and coached in their responsibilities and global duties, I have not.

The girls' Global School teaches subservience, compliance and acceptance. Girls are taught to be meek and submissive so that by the time they are partnered, their chosen males will have no difficulty in siring their 2 permitted offspring. In the later years of school they are taught all they need to know about giving pleasure to a man and, in return, receiving pleasure themselves. The authorities were never so blind as to ignore the fact that the reproductive process can be immensely pleasurable and is often much more successful when it is so. Hence, girls who are approaching 18 are given detailed tuition and shown explicit films of the art of sexual pleasure and procreation and tutored in sexual technique.

The boys' Global School, on the other hand, teaches boys to be assertive with their women. To treat them kindly and with respect but, ultimately, to ensure that they submit to the will and desires of the male, even forcing such compliance if it is necessary in ensuring that she fulfils her duty 'for the good of mankind.'

This is what I learned at the boys' school, although as I look down now past the swell of my breasts to the soft skin of my bare legs I can scarcely believe how naive, accepting and blind to the truth I really was. It isn't as if I never doubted the wisdom of the laws or, indeed, questioned them. It seemed so wrong to me that any human being should be forced to submit to another against their will or that they should not be in control of what happens to their own bodies, but I was only foolish enough to voice my doubts the once. The reaction of the school masters to my questioning left me in no doubt that any further dissent from their teachings would not be tolerated and would lead to serious consequences for both me and my father.

It seems that stupidity is a special trait of mine. Llara saw that, I think. She knew me and cultivated my affections for many years, but precisely how long she had been formulating her plan I really cannot say.

She was the daughter of a neighbour. We lived in life-pods immediately opposite each other. As is the norm, we were being raised by our fathers, neither of us being the product of a first partnership and our mothers were, therefore, serving their Global Duties in the GPMP and we had never met them.

Llara was stunningly beautiful and just 6 months younger than myself and I loved her from a very early age. It was no real surprise therefore when, as she approached her eighteenth birthday, we announced, with her father's blessing, that we were to be partnered.

The partnering ceremony took place in the large civic hall along with many other couples. None of the other girls could compare to Llara. All the men were sneaking glances at her even while their own ceremonies were in progress. Her long, golden hair, voluptuous curves and radiant personality kept everyone spellbound and I felt like I was the luckiest guy in the world to know that she was mine for the next 4 years. If we were careful, we might get the maximum time together and I just didn't want to think beyond that.

Following the ceremony we celebrated with our fathers and friends before taking over the life-pod which had been allocated to us. Containing all that we needed to live as a family unit for the next four years in cramped but comfortable conditions, the pod was to become our home and I had never felt happier in my entire life.

Our first night together is a bitter-sweet memory full of burning passion and desire, on my part at least, but tinged with bitter regret and recrimination.

Determined to treat her with respect, kindness and love, my total lack of experience became all too evident as I started to undress her. All of our clothing, both male and female, is made from the same super-stretch, synthetic material which has been the only type of fabric available since The Reckoning. No unworn piece of clothing is ever bigger than the palm of my hand until it is stretched over limbs and bodies to fit, tight as a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination regarding the size and shape of the wearer, or the seemingly semi-permanent state of arousal of most of the men. Such blatant exhibitionism and sexuality is a clear principle of The Legislature's teachings and statutes, modesty in appearance being very much forbidden. And so we all wear the same style of clothing manufactured with identical, if differently coloured, fabric.

As I struggled to raise her pink top up over her head, we burst out in fits of giggles as the tight fabric snagged and became caught beneath the swell of her pert and fulsome breasts. Eventually, she helped me to remove the top and reveal the glory of herself to my awe-struck gaze. With shaking hands I fumbled to remove her tiny, regulation length skirt which had barely covered her incredibly skimpy white briefs which moulded to the outline of her sex, clearly delineating the swellings of her lips and the line of the cleft between her tightly clamped thighs.

I looked deep into Llara's frightened eyes, "May I see?," I asked.

She gave a slightly forced smile and answered, "Of course you can see, I belong to you now."

My hands trembled as I reached to remove the tiny piece of textile covering her mound, unsure if I was disappointed or relieved at the fabric's colour. All women's panties are impregnated with a chemical which changes their colour according to the woman's monthly cycle to show her state of fertility. White meant she was not ovulating and would not conceive from our first coupling. As the month progressed the fabric would darken in colour through pale and then darker pink to a full scarlet red when she was at her most fertile, eventually turning to black during her menstruation, when all sexual contact is strictly forbidden. Upon learning this at the age of 16, I was struck by the thought that this may be the only break that most women would get from the constant amorous and lustful attentions of the many men they would need to serve 'for the sake of mankind.' Of course, by now I had learned not to voice such thoughts, as expressions of sympathy for the position of women in our society was seen as a sign of great weakness and the wrath of the school masters would be severe so my fantasies of being dominated, ritually humiliated and abused by strong, forceful women were never spoken of.

My mouth was dry as I slid the tiny triangle of fabric down Llara's thighs, revealing her beautiful mound to my eyes for the first time. As the law requires that every woman should be completely hairless with the exception of her head and therefore receives laser treatment shortly after puberty, ensuring that her body hair never grows back, I was spellbound by the sight of the soft, pink lips peeking through the pale velvety skin as she slowly parted her thighs for my eyes to feast on her womanly beauty.

"Should I kiss you there?" I asked.

Like the girls, we too had been given some coaching in the arts of sexual pleasure but such tuition had only ever covered the theory, with no boy ever gaining any practical experience until he found himself in my position. Many of the methods of giving and receiving pleasure that we had been taught seemed bizarre and, quite frankly, a little disgusting but we were assured that such acts were both perfectly normal and supremely pleasurable.

So it was that I enquired if Llara had a desire to be stimulated orally, even though I really had very little idea of what to do or how I would react to being between her parted thighs and in such close proximity to the prize I had craved for so long.

Fortunately for me she shook her head, appearing to be a little afraid and lacking her usual confidence.

"Just put it in me and let's get it over with," she mumbled, lying back and splaying her legs.

I was more than a little disappointed at how clinical it all seemed. No sense of love or romance, just a purely physical and emotionless coupling.

As I slid into Llara, revelling in the exquisite sensations as her tight, silky softness yielded to my gentle but insistent pressure and she engulfed half my length in her velvety soft warmth, I looked deep into her eyes and was shocked to find them open and staring blankly at the wall behind me, refusing to meet my gaze, a small tear trickling from each eye. I pulled back until only the tip of my engorged penis was within her.

"Am I hurting you, do you want me to stop?," I stammered, desperate to please her, afraid of causing her pain.

"A little, but please don't stop. My body has to get used to this. It will happen so often from now on that it must learn to accept it."

"But I don't want to hurt you, Llara, I love you and would never do anything to cause you pain," I pleaded.

Her eyes bore into mine and her face became hard.

"Just fuck me and stop being such a wimp," she exclaimed.

I was shocked at the vehemence of her outburst. I had never heard Llara use bad language or lose her temper before and I was taken aback that she could use such profanities and refer to our long awaited first coupling in such a way.

Her head was turned away as, once again, she refused to meet my eyes. Although baffled by her demeanour, I put it down to her nervousness and slowly returned to sliding into her tight folds, finding just a slight obstruction which gave way to my increased pressure and I sank to my full depth within her.

As I began to move deep inside her I could feel her muscles clamping onto me as I withdrew to the very tip and paused, just for a solitary, exquisite moment before sliding fully back in. I could barely control my emotions as she finally became mine. The sublime sensations were far more than I had ever imagined as my entire length, my entire soul was absorbed by her.

As I began to pump into her with deep, regular, rhythmic strokes, she whimpered and I again became aware of the tears on her face. I kissed her face repeatedly as I continued to work in and out of her, my own passion rising with the vigour and speed of my thrusts until I felt the exquisite and powerful release as I exploded inside her, my climax so much more intense that any I had ever experienced whilst masturbating (a pastime which is wholeheartedly encouraged by The Legislature), my breath coming in short, sharp gasps until I collapsed onto her, my body melting into the warm welcoming softness of hers.

Quite how long we lay there like that I cannot tell. I only know that I was aware of a cold wetness between us and that I had slipped from within her. In that warm afterglow, I felt more alive than at any time in my life, happily content with my lot and dreaming of spending the next four years between my sweet Llara's thighs.

When I finally raised myself from her she again averted her gaze so as not to look directly at me and immediately took herself off to the bathroom. Again, I took this for a sign of her self-consciousness at being in such close, intimate contact with me at last.

When, eventually, she reappeared she acted as if nothing had happened and simply kissed me on the cheek and suggested we sleep as she had a nice surprise for me the following day.

Wanting to please her more than anything but still somewhat surprised and disappointed at her seeming lack of affection, I agreed and we slept, spooned together but, for me, it was a fitful and anxious sleep and not that which I had imagined for our first night as partners.

In the morning Llara still seemed a little uptight and nervous but made a great show of being cheerful and excited at the thought of our time together. She showed not the slightest shame or embarrassment as she walked around naked as I watched her every move, revelling in the sensuous beauty of her swaying hips and breasts, even giggling when she caught me watching her a little too intently.