Author’s Note: Everything contained here is fantasy and does not reflect the author’s personal or political views. This is much darker than my normal content. The following ‘script’ is meant to be a dystopian fantasy, blurring the line between erotic and unsettling.
“Feminist rebel is captured on camera!”
Webcam footage of a terrorist woman is leaked! For everyone saying this was staged: LOL look at this bitch’s face!!!
Even though she kept muttering ‘please mommy’ she wasn’t our daughter. Actually, she could be, if my wife wanted it. With her mind wiped, her old life erased, she could be whatever we wanted. Right now she was happy, and that was enough. No more worries, no more thoughts about work or school. She was just a good girl, it’s the only thing she knew now because it’s all we told her. She was a good girl, and good girls did whatever mommy and daddy asked. Why would she ever want anything else, when she felt so good?
There’s a lot I wish I could change about that summer.
I wish I’d gotten Naomi out of there, out of Bedford. Especially after realizing how lost she was that day on the side of the highway. I could have just kept driving, fuck the school and the plan to download the ghost file.
I wish my horny, immature, 18 year old self could see I was constantly hedging. Betting Naomi’s freedom, her mind, on the chance I could… I don’t even know…
The change take advantage of her?
I hate myself to even say it. To talk about my wife, the mother of my child like that.
But I’ve come to terms with that a while ago. As much as I tried to obscure it to Naomi and even myself at the time, the truth is I was weak and selfish.
And I’ve been trying to make up for it ever since then.
The thing that makes it difficult to clear my conscious is how fuzzy things got by July. Not just the imperfect memories that come with age, but the programming and the chemicals I now know were influencing Naomi and I that whole summer.
That fog and the ambiguity it brings is a double edged sword.
On one hand, there’s the specter of absolution; everything I did or didn’t do may have been beyond my control. I can point my judgement and revulsion at the men (and woman) who drugged and hypnotized me for their own gains.
On the other hand, I can’t be certain what actions were my own. I’d like to imagine with a totally clear head and full understanding of the consequences, I would make better choices. That I would have acted like a decent human being.
But then, some nights, when Naomi is particularly horny and spaced out, she begs me to save her.
It’s an act. She’s beyond saving now, and she knows it. We both are.
Still, my wife will look up at me, with a mimicry of her old, teenage self. She’ll lock eyes with me and beg me not to take advantage of her. She’ll plead with me not to turn her into a slutty, mindless caricature. She’ll say she doesn’t want the same fate as her mother.
Naomi says all this because she knows it drives me wild. It’ll always been in the middle of some heavy foreplay, right when she knows I’m struggling to pace myself. She’ll turn on her ‘old’ self, and watch me swim with guilt and desire.
Not that it really matters. The deed is done and Naomi is who she is now. But she likes seeing it play out again, watching me break because I want her so badly.
And I lose that battle every time. I always fuck her. And Naomi smiles and slowly lets her facade drop, turning her pleas into giggles and moans of pleasure.
I’d like to imagine with a totally clear head and full understanding of the consequences, I would make better choices. That I would have acted like a decent human being.
Concept and characters generously provided by VoidGolem.
Further Down The Spiral – July 1999
“It’s too big, it won’t fit. I told you this would be painful, but you’ve got a one track mind.”
I leaned back in my chair, not ready to give up yet. “I can’t stop now, I’m close. It’s right in front of me, if I could just…”
Aaron cut me off. “It’s not happening with your internet connection. Your trying to download a full disk image, almost a gig, over a 56k connection. The server will keep timing out… hell, I’m surprised you can connect at all.”
Two weeks of searching online for Prefect Wife Inc. and this was all I had. A ghost… or to be more specific a .ghost image file. I had no idea what the hell it was, or how I could open it. That’s why Aaron, my old Debate Club partner and class ‘hacker’ was on the phone with me.
“Are you sure you can’t just come over and walk me through this in person? I can’t talk and browse, my house only has one line.” I glanced down at the notes I’d made so far, and already knew I was lost. “How do I even install the FTP? Just bike over here.”
“No can do, good buddy.” I could hear Aaron typing away while he was talking. “House arrest. You know that.”
He was exaggerating, but not by much. After accessing some teacher’s personal documents on the school network, he’d been suspended and grounded. Aaron didn’t even walk at graduation; he got his diploma mailed after some community service.
“So how do I download it? Can you do it for me? I could swing by and pick it up…” I was desperate.
“Nope. You’re going to need a T1 line if you want to snag that baby.”
“And where do I find one of those?”
“Not in Bedford. We’re not wired for fiber. Closest one is…” he stopped typing. “Say, aren’t you going to State this fall?”
She was very receptive after her third hands on session…
*giggle “so… much… cock…” *giggle* “i like… i need more cock…” *slurp* *slurp* “can you give me more cock? please? pretty pretty please…?” *lick* *lick*
… if you have a request – feel free to PM me. You might just provide some inspiration.
Concept and characters generously provided by VoidGolem. Special thanks to @talesforsluts everyone who provided edits and feedback on this chapter, including @generalwizardtragedy, @totallynotskynet and @paradoxguild679.
The Line Begins to Blur – Late June 1999
Sneaking around wasn’t something I was good at.
I’d gotten drunk once. It was some post-track meet party, and someone handed me a Jack and Coke. I spent most of the night just in a side room, playing video games, trying not to throw up from the awful taste. To be honest, most of that night was a blur.
The clearest memory was trying, and failing, to act nonchalant. I puked as soon as I’d walked in my front the door, mostly from nerves of my parents catching me stumbling in so late.
Playing it cool was not my strength.
“You’re absolutely, positively sure she’s at the gym all afternoon?” I was keeping my voice low while Naomi let me into her foyer.
“HEY MOM!” Naomi screamed, cupping her hand to her mouth for effect. “RYAN AND I ARE GOING TO DO CRACK IF YOU WANT TO JOIN!”
I flinched a bit, but the silence proved her point. We were totally alone in the house.
“Point made.” I said, slipping off my shoes.
“You turn red so easily.” Naomi chuckled. “Seriously, your ears look like they’re on fire.”
“Hardy-har-har. I’m glad you’re taking this seriously.”
She led me down the hall to the computer room, more of a nook just off the kitchen. Unlike the attic, it was immaculately staged. Not a hint of dust or clutter.
It was also totally exposed. if someone were to walk through the front door, we’d have seconds before our cover was blown.
“So if she comes home early…?” I dragged a kitchen chair next to the monitor.
“If she comes home early, I’ll just yank out the power cable before she can see anything.” Naomi sat at the keyboard and flicked on the screen.
“It’s a laptop though.” I pointed at black, closed Gateway locked into the docking. “You pull the plug and nothing will happen.”
“Then I’ll turn off the screen. Keep it cool, Mr. Privacy.” she was already connecting. The modem started it’s mechanical cry of life as she logged in.
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