[To my dear readers:
"Let me know what you think so I can decide if this is worth continuing" <3]
Prologue
The year was 3030 and the world was very different to how anyone could've pictured it. There were no flying cars, no alternate fuels and no virtual life. Everything got too real. The world ran out of fuel around the year 3000 – something which caused mass panic and hysteria. Then, at a UN meeting one scientist, Dr. Klaus Haussen, put forth a proposal which shocked many. He claimed that he could harness a force more powerful than any kind of fossil fuel and could have the world supplied with power for an eternity.
He would harness the power of the orgasm. His idea was backed by undeniable research and was morally sound in principle – who didn't want to be given orgasms for a living? It seemed like a golden age was upon us until the time came to execute his plan. No one knows what went on in those laboratories but the sounds of perpetual screaming still haunt the abandoned buildings.
Now days – whole nations have been plunged into darkness – controlled by ruthless villains running the OMP (Orgasm Manifestation Program). It seems like the days last mere hours whilst the nights last forever. The OMP hijacked Haussen's idea after he was imprisoned in 3010. Somehow, they were able to harness the power released by this sexual force without killing the 'vessels'. They would comatose their employees and force them to climax every 5.5 minutes – something which was proven to be too physically and psychologically distressing for many to survive whilst conscious.
Their subjects were cruelly kept in pods, stacked like boxes, fed on drips and still the world couldn't maintain its power source. Their problem was simple: all people die. With the technological recession the OMP had no other option than to send 'recruitment officers' into the streets to gather new vessels. And that's where our story begins...
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Rosie Morgan ran her fingers down the black velvet curtains in the front room. She'd always loved those curtains because they were the exact same colour as her hair – she used to hide from her stepfather there when she was little. Although, that was so long ago that she'd practically forgotten he wasn't her real father; she just remembered giggling and hiding and those memories warmed her throughout.
She wiped her eyes, which always watered from the dust, and shifted her weight hesitantly. She supposed she should feel different but it was always the same, just like last year and the year before. Being eighteen was no different than being fifteen to her yet Kristoph, her stepfather, seemed to be quite excited. The least she could do was feign a smile for him, right?
In he strolled, whistling merrily, with a large box wrapped in brown paper packaging. Rosie's eyes darted to the box where she felt her first instance of birthday excitement. She hoped she didn't seem greedy getting worked up over a gift (however exceptionally huge it was). Kristoph stopped before her, grinning dopily. He was a burly blonde man with short hair that stood in an almost static fashion. "For the birthday girl." He beamed.
It took Rosie all of two seconds to demolish the packaging and discover the most magnificent black dress she'd ever seen. It was lacy with large cuffs and frills all over, embroidered with a fine, white flower pattern around the hems and collar. Kristoph's eyes were unnervingly wide: "Go ahead, try it on..."
The bedroom was a dream of dark colours and lace. The bed: four poster and shrouded by a dark, opaque veil. On the walls were floral prints of a Victorian-esque design and pinned upon one was a large, blown up picture of Rosie and her late mother. Rosie thundered up the stairs to change. In her haste she didn't completely shut the door. She fleetingly thought assessed there would be no point. Kristoph would be waiting downstairs and it was only those two in the house after all.
Unbeknownst to Rosie, Kristoph had followed her up intent on waiting outside her bedroom. With the door ajar he, albeit accidentally, was able to peak at the half-naked girl. She'd changed so much since her mother had first introduced the two.
Rosie was now of a slender figure with raven hair that presented itself in loose ringlets. Her eyes were a piercing aqua and her complexion porcelain. Her usual attire of ruffled dresses and ribbons made her look quite like a china doll, though Kristoph had always found the style to be rather innocently seductive. There was no questioning where she got her fashion sense from – that was what attracted him to her mother in the first place.
Rosie's body was delicate and smooth looking. Unlike her mother, she had little bust. Her breasts were virtually two bumps protruding from her chest. Her legs seemed endlessly long and lead subtly up to a rounded buttocks covered by French panties.
For Kristoph, time had slowed. Although Rosie was defiantly in a rush it was as if she was teasing him. His breathing became sullen and heavy and his pupils dilated with lust. He watched her dance from one garment to the next with a bulging erection.
"Dad?" came Rosie's voice, bringing Kristoph back into consciousness. "What the hell are you doing?" this time with outrage and hostility. He panicked and burst into her room. Mist had descended upon his judgement. He approached Rosie whose dress was still undone at the back revealing alabaster skin.