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In the first installment of the *Chronicles of Free-Use America*, we follow a day in the life of Amanda Walker. Amanda just turned 18 and is learning what it means to be a woman in Free-Use America.
Author Note
This project started as a thought exercise and turned into an erotica series of short stories about a Free-Use America. This is mainly a Slice-of-Life erotica that covers different perspectives from characters in this alternate reality. My goal is to build out the world over time with each new work.
**Free-Use:** This series is meant to approach the concept of a '*free-use society*' with some degree of realism. In this society, women 18 years or older are required to consent or comply with any sexual advance from any adult male. I tried to capture how I imagine American society would evolve under this free-use policy, from fashion, entertainment, family life, politics, and even religion.
This series will always be a *free-use* based series and not focused on other kinks. Readers should expect the kink spectrum to shift slightly from installment to installment.
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Chronicles of Free-Use America Ch.1 - Amanda
"There's my gir- Sorry, there's my young woman," Martha corrected herself as her daughter joined her at the breakfast table.
The eighteen-year-old rolled her eyes and plopped down on the dining room chair across from her mom. "Mom," she groaned unenthusiastically, "Stop going that...it's not a big deal, really!"
"It's a very big deal, Amanda," Martha corrected her, "You're a woman now. There are certain things that will be expected of you now." In her early forties and with four kids, statements like that still made Martha cringe at how much she sounded like her own mother.
Amanda made dismissive face as she poured herself a glass of orange juice. When she replied, her tone made it clear she didn't take her eighteenth birthday very seriously, "I get it, mom. Now it's my responsibility to suck off every cock that gets waved in my face."
Martha gasped, "Its more than that, young lady. And do you have to be so crass like that in front of your sister?" She turned to the preteen girl sitting at the table reading and suggested, "Honey, why don't you go upstairs and finish getting ready for school. I'll be ready to drive you soon."
After making a playfully rude face at her sister, Amanda changed the subject, "Since I'm not going to school today, can I borrow the car? Jenna and I were going to catch a movie later."
Another sigh escaped Martha's lips. It was clear that Amanda did not understand the weight of turning of age in a free-use society. Martha learned young that timed plans like movies are not always possible when any horny man in town can stop you for sex at any moment. Leniency was often given to women who were late for appointments or meetings with the understanding that they may have had to grant several sexual favors on the way to their destination. Amanda would learn, just as Martha and every other American woman. But it was clear that the stubborn teenager wasn't going to make it easy.
"You'll need to ask your father," Martha deflected, "I'm sure he has other plans for you after you get your registration."
Amanda offered no rebuttal other than the stubborn groan of a teenager. It was her birthday, and a day off school and she couldn't even spend it doing what she wanted to do. She sat at the table and flipped through her phone. As a cheerleader and one of the popular crowds in her suburban Texas high school, Amanda did much to keep up appearances.
Her California blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, revealing all of her youthful beauty. Wide green eyes were the star of the show, accented with a modest amount of eyeshadow to make them pop and a clear glossy lip balm that was in fashion. She wore white tank top with her school's Cheer logo and short athletic shorts that cling to the tight curves of her thin, athletic body. The black satin straps of her bra were peeking from the white straps of her tank top and underneath her shorts, she had a matching pair of black low rise panties.
Martha had stood up, still wearing her bathrobe over her trim figure. Despite having four kids, she still took care of her body and most of the baby weight had settled in her breasts and a little in her rump as well. She started to fill her coffee mug as she continued her lecture, "I think its time we go over some etiquette and expectations, sweetie."
Amanda opened her mouth to protest, but Martha continued without letting her speak, "Before you leave to the registration office, I want you to go into my bathroom and make sure you have what you need." She turned with both hands on the coffee mug to look at Amanda. "Cleansing wipes are a must. Don't expect men to clean up their spunk after they're finished with you. Some might...but most will just leave it."
"I'm used to cleaning up after Conner and Jake," Amanda quipped.
"Goddammit, Amanda! Just listen. This is serious!" Martha snapped back with an attitude. "Get a pack of wipes. Get some mints or gum, so your breath doesn't smell like cum. Carry a small makeup bag with you so you can freshen yourself up as you need to."
"Wipes...mints...makeup...," Amanda repeated with a disrespectful tone.
Martha was about to continue when the nanny and housekeeper, Mrs. Guitierez walked in with two arms filled with dirty laundry on her way to the laundry room. "Buenos Dias, Mrs. and Ms. Walker," the woman said in a heavy South American accent, "The boys are ready for school. I'm about to send them to the bus stop."
"Thank you, Mari," Martha said.
"Oh- I can't believe I almost forgot..." Mari quickly dropped the laundry in the attached room and turned back inside, "Feliz CumpleaΓ±os! Happy Birthday, Amanda!" The housekeeper leaned in to hug Amanda and kissed the top of her head. The perky housekeeper was in her thirties; wearing a racerback tank top, grey yoga pants that revealed her shapely legs, and tennis shoes for comfort while she cleaned and tended to the children.
"Thank you, Mrs. Gutierez," Amanda said with a reluctant smile, returning the awkward hug as she continued sitting at the breakfast table texting on her phone.
"You call me Mari now," the housekeeper said in her thick South American accent as she broke the hug.
"Thank you, Mari," Amanda corrected herself.
Martha shook her head at her daughter's stubbornness and shared a look with Mari. Both were mothers and shared a mutual understanding of these things. Mrs. Gutierez worked for the Walker family now for about five years now after moving to America from Guatemala and struggling to find work. Martha had grown fond of the housekeeper since she had taken some of her responsibilities so that she could pursue her career as a wedding planner.
"We'll talk more on this later," Martha said to Amanda as she started her way out of the kitchen, "Just make sure you pack your purse before you leave." On her way out, she was stopped by her husband who was on his way in from the outside.