Heather
let Grace in and they sat at the kitchen table. She'd said in her text
it was bad news. It was so bad that the first three times Grace
collected herself to talk she'd start crying again instead.
Finally,
"The lawyer says Dave is going to get visitation. The judge lifted the
temporary order. The kids have to see him again. You know how it was --
I had to peel the little ones off of me to get them to go with him! I
think he abuses Alison, she just gets this stone face... I know it!"
Heather
had heard the sad tale of Grace's marriage as it unraveled. Dave really
was a total bastard. Why women put up with men at all was a mystery to
her, but with someone like Dave...
She herself had had a
longtime partner Ruth who was 20 years her senior. Six months before
she had died after a long battle with cancer. Ruth had been sure she'd
be there for the kids, but told Heather she had to think about herself
too. She made her promise to do her best to find someone else. Ruth
told her she could grieve for six months but then it was time to move
on. Telling her how long to grieve had been a joke but not really a
joke. Six months had gone by -- eight months now -- and she still felt
awful. Looking for someone else just held no glimmer of appeal.
Heather's
thoughts meandered as Grace continued to vent. What about a new start?
A change of scenery? When Grace had calmed down some, Heather said, "We
should leave the country, take the kids with us so he can never get at
them again."
Grace gave a quick, cynical laugh, but stopped when
Heather didn't smile. "Wait, could we really do that? Get away from
Dave? Where would we go?"
Grace's enthusiasm got her thinking in
more detail. When she'd been doing her linguistics field work in the
South Pacific 15 years earlier, she'd made some contacts. There were
little islands tucked away that hardly anyone knew about. The natives
abandoned them because of the excitement and opportunities in the city.
She
had the proceeds from the sale of Ruth's consulting business. Could
they manage it? It seemed so impossible, but then, Why not? To spend
the rest of her life on an island with Grace? She reminded herself once
more that Grace was 100% straight, but even so... The immediate need
was to get Grace's kids away from Dave, but there were other
possibilities.
She and Ruth had spoken about it many times, this
wish that they could start over. They'd look at Molly and Tara and
lament all the messages society was already starting to dump on them,
think about all that they would suffer growing up under the patriarchy.
They would dream of leaving the US, then soberly realize that most
other countries were even worse for women.
On an island, they
could bring the kids up with the right values. Start a new society,
uncontaminated by the patriarchy. The simple desire to escape from the
Vermont winters even played a role.
Grace's oldest was Alison,
aged 10. Next came 7-year-old Kira, with her youngest Paul just 4 years
old. She herself had Molly, age 8, and the twins Tara and Jacob, aged 6.
They
could raise their boys right -- to be the true equals of their sisters.
As she and Grace brainstormed about it, they thought further ahead.
When the time came, the boys could each marry one of the girls in the
other family. There could be grandchildren, and from that an ongoing
little society in the South Pacific. A feminist utopia, cleansed of the
patriarchy.
And so it came to pass that the 2 women and their 6
children flew to Tahiti, then by prop plane to an outlying island, and
then by boat to another island where they met Mr. Johnson. In his own
boat he gave them a tour of the deserted island, and they loved it. A
couple miles in length, half a mile wide. Sandy beaches, a lagoon, a
forested interior, a volcanic outcropping in the center, and a spring.
Fields that weren't badly overgrown. After his work crew refurbished
the run-down huts, Mr. Johnson delivered them to their new home. He
stayed a week, showing them how to find coconuts, grow bananas and
sweet potatoes, dig shellfish, and catch regular fish. Heather arranged
with him to come back every 3 months to deliver supplies -- later they
found they could go 6 months. And then he left.
Heather and Grace named their community "New Hope".
Paul's
childhood was... a childhood. Children are infinitely adaptable, and
however they are raised, it seems normal at the time. His memories of
the wider world were dim and few -- he'd been just 4 when they left.
The big girls and his mom and Heather told him stories, but he was
almost native-born to New Hope.
He would later realize that he
had been given some messages growing up that were unusual. He and Jacob
were boys -- they had penises and none of the others did. But he should
never get the idea for one minute that that made him special. In fact,
he got the definite idea that he was not as good as the others. In the
world they had come from, men had power over women and oppressed them.
Here in New Hope, there would be absolutely none of that. Maybe there
would even be some payback.
His mom and Heather made sure he did
his share of dishes and cooking and cleaning. He even thought the girls
got to relax and play more than he and Jacob did. He should always sit
down on the privy seat to pee. They said if he stood up that was
flaunting male privilege. If one of the women ever caught him peeing
outside, he would get a stern talking to. The girls and women all used
the privies, and he shouldn't think that having a penis gave him the
right to just pee on the bushes.
He was also the youngest, so he
always knew less than everyone else growing up. Sometimes the big girls
teased him. Jacob seemed to get along fine with the girls, but somehow
Paul didn't fit in quite the same way. When he whacked things hard with
sticks, the women would tell him that was the beginnings of violence,
and there was no need to whack that particular bush or rock or clam
shell. But -- he still wanted to, and he felt he was bad when the urge
arose.
The physical differences between boys and girls were
apparent growing up, as the kids all went around naked a fair amount.
His questions about how bodies work were always answered. But when
puberty was upon him, he finally absorbed the full message of the facts
of life. As he would realize later, the story had a twist on New Hope
it had nowhere else. The way babies were made was that a man stroked
his penis until the semen came out, and then gave it to a woman, who
placed it inside her vagina with her fingers.
He had heard the
history many times growing up, but now he really got it. In the
patriarchal world they had escaped, one way men had controlled women
was to lie on them and humiliate them by forcing their penises inside
of the women's bodies. The very geometry of shoving something into
another person's body was violence. The men added insult to injury by
peeing in them -- well, actually it was semen -- whether the women
wanted it or not. Sometimes the men started babies the women didn't
want, and of course it was the women who had to go through the 9 months
of pregnancy, not the men. In the patriarchy, the women were also stuck
with all the work of child care.
He learned about sexual
attraction. Sometimes girls liked girls and boys liked boys in a
special way, and other times girls and boys liked each other. If two of
them wanted to, they could form a partnership and sleep together at
night. The partner of a woman could give her pleasure by licking her
between the legs in just the right way. The partner of a man could give
him pleasure by stroking his penis up and down with her hand.
When
he was 14, he became aware that his two big sisters were both very
interested in Jacob, who was then 16. They had no interest in Jacob's
big sisters -- not that way. They both tried to get Jacob's attention.
The older women made it clear that two people should be involved with
each other exclusively. In the evil patriarchal world, some men had
taken two women for themselves, either divorcing an older woman to
marry a younger one, or secretly having a mistress on the side. That
was an aspect of the evil patriarchy, the idea that men were entitled
to multiple women. So if Jacob wanted to have a partner, he would have
to pick just one.
Flattered by the attention, Jacob picked
Alison, then 20. They became a couple and slept together. They weren't
really married, because in the patriarchy marriage had bad associations
with ownership. But still the others talked casually of Jacob as
Alison's husband and Alison as Jacob's wife.
Paul wondered how a
couple acted. His mom and Heather were not a couple. They slept in
different huts, each with her kids. He knew that his mother was the
kind of woman who was sexually attracted to men, while Heather was the
kind who was sexually attracted to women.
So Alison and Jacob
were the first couple he had ever seen. When he looked at them
together, he noticed Alison beaming at Jacob. Jacob was more reserved.
He overheard his mother and Heather noting that they were very
impressed with Jacob, who was not acting at all like he owned Alison or
could tell her what to do.
He overheard Alison talking with
their mother sometimes. Alison was eager to have a baby, so when
Jacob's semen came out, she took it on her finger and pushed it up
inside herself. He overheard in more hushed tones a conversation among
Alison, his mother and Heather. Alison reported that Jacob really
didn't like licking her between the legs. Heather said that a man
should be willing to do that for his partner -- had the patriarchy
somehow slipped onto this island with them? His mom noted that no one
should do anything sexual unless he or she wanted to, and Heather
couldn't object to that. In fact, Jacob wasn't interested in kissing
Alison either, and he preferred to rub his penis himself to make the
semen come out rather than having Alison rub it, and the women thought
that was perfectly fine.
When Paul was 14, Molly was 18 and Tara
was 16. They both affected him in a way they hadn't when he was
younger. He confided to his mother his faster heartbeat and excitement
in the presence of the two girls who were not his sisters, and she
smilingly confirmed that that was sexual attraction and it was just
fine. And just to make sure he'd considered all the possibilities --
no, he didn't feel that way about Jacob at all.
Paul was excited
by Molly and Tara, and he realized that they had been excited by him
for some time. Now he was 14, the women said it was OK if they wanted
to do romantic things together. So he found himself alone with Molly,
kissing and hugging her. That felt fantastic and made his penis really
stiff. But other times Tara managed to catch him alone and he really
enjoyed kissing and hugging her too. The two girls had been good
sisters with each other up until that point, but now they started
arguing and being mean to each other.
The mothers suggested that
Paul really ought to pick one of them and do his kissing and hugging
with just her, to settle the rivalry. Paul chose Tara. The women
thought he was too young to start sleeping at night with Tara, but they
could find a private spot during the day to do their hugging and
kissing if they wanted -- they did.
Then he was asked if he
could provide semen for Molly, because she wanted to have a baby. Both
males were already taken, so there was no one for her to partner with.
Obviously it was much healthier not to try to have a baby with her own
brother, so Paul was the only choice.
The women had said that he
had to pick just one woman, but he could provide semen to the other for
artificial insemination. That was just fine, and in fact that was how
Molly, Tara and Jacob had all been conceived. They didn't know their
biological father -- though Heather and Ruth had chosen the same father
for both of the pregnancies.
On New Hope, discussions of sex had
been open but privacy also respected. His mom asked him solemnly if he
knew how to make his body produce semen. He replied with equal
solemnity that he did in fact know that. He had in fact been making his
body expel semen regularly for some time now. He and Tara weren't sure
if it was permitted, so they didn't tell the others, but in their
private make-out sessions, she had started using her hand to make Paul
expel semen too.
He liked Molly and was happy to help her have a
baby. For a week or so out of every month Molly appeared at his door
every evening with a small dish. He went inside, rubbed himself and
spurted his semen into it, and after making himself decent again, he
handed it back to Molly. She disappeared into her own hut to finger it
up inside of herself.
Jacob was already servicing Paul's big sister Kira in the same fashion.
When
Paul was 15, he and Tara convinced the women that they should be able
to become a real couple and spend the night together. Fifteen was too
young in the outside world, but here on the island things could be more
relaxed. There was plenty of room and plenty of food, and the island
just seemed to call out for babies.
Paul was excited when he
finally got to move to his own hut with Tara and sleep with her at
night. He was especially eager to lie in bed with her and hug, naked.
His penis got very stiff doing that, and he asked her to tell him if
she ever felt his penis was threatening or controlling in any way, and
she solemnly agreed to do that. But he got to fondle and kiss every
part of her body. She loved it when he sucked on her nipples, and they
agreed that was OK even though Paul's nipples were much smaller and he
didn't especially like to have them sucked. He also loved touching Tara
between the legs, and she loved to be touched there. They both made
sure he never penetrated her vagina with his finger, because that was a
violent act. Paul loved licking Tara between the legs with his tongue,
and he soon knew how to give her large, satisfying orgasms.
As
before, Tara was happy to stroke Paul's penis with her hand, and he
loved that. She could give him an orgasm and make his semen come out,
and that felt special to him -- much better than when he did it
himself. She reported the desire to take his penis in her mouth, but
they both knew that was a way of him dominating her so they mustn't do
that. Tara didn't know how that patriarchal desire to humiliate herself
had infected her, but she reassured Paul that he had done nothing to
encourage it. He was relieved.
Even though he was now fully
partnered with Tara, he of course kept giving Molly semen. Tara liked
to kiss him, stroke him, and collect his semen in the dish and hand it
out the door to her sister. Paul could just lie back and enjoy the
harvesting process.
At 17 Tara was old enough to get pregnant,
so she began inserting Paul's semen into her own vagina too. And Paul
felt a special thrill to lie in the haze of afterglow and watch his
wife open her vagina with one hand and finger his semen into it with
the other. He felt a fascination with that vagina, a desire to insert
into that opening his own finger -- at least. He also felt tremendous
guilt at this violent patriarchal impulse. The inside of her vagina
would remain forever a mystery to him. It was only for her to
penetrate, and only when trying to make a baby.
However, their efforts to make babies weren't working.
In
the year before Paul and Tara partnered, none of the other three young
women got pregnant. The older women urged everyone to stay relaxed --
it sometimes took a while, and there was no cause for alarm. But
another year went by with all four trying, and still no pregnancies.
Word
came that Jacob was sick of providing sperm for Paul's sisters, and
only did it now and then, under protest. They all liked the idea of
some babies for New Hope, but there were none in the offing.
Paul and Tara were walking around the island, hand in hand.
It was turtle mating season, and they came across a pair of the beasts, male mounted on the female's back.
"Look at them. Patriarchal beasts," said Paul with a laugh.
Tara
stopped to look. "Yeah, it may be, but it works. They lay eggs and have
little turtles." They walked on in silence several yards and she said,
"I've been thinking... Why don't we do that? To make babies?"
"Well, we're civilized. And in us humans it's part of the patriarchy, and that's bad."
"I
know, I know... But that way works for making babies, right? It's the
way humans did it for years and years. It's the way everyone made
babies except some lesbos like my mom."
"It made babies, but it also was a root cause of the patriarchy."
Tara
sighed. "Did you notice we're really short on babies? That this new
civilized method isn't working? The old way gets the sperm right where
it belongs -- in the right place, deep in the vagina."
"We're also very short on the patriarchy."
"It
takes more than one thing to make a patriarchy, right? The problem with
the fucking was that men made women do it, not the act itself." That
word 'fucking' was rarely used on New Hope, and it conveyed the
strength of Tara's feeling.
"But it's violent! It's a violation of a woman's body!"
"Well,
maybe I want a violation of my body. Does that girl turtle suffer or
run away? No. The boy turtle shoves it into her, gives her the sperm,
and that's what she wants."
"This is crazy talk. What would our mothers say?"
"Why do we have to do what our mothers say? Do they own us?"
If there was one thing Paul felt deep down, it was that he had to obey his mother and Heather.
Paul hurried ahead, ending the conversation.
Tara
brought the subject up again several times, and he always stood firm.
He considered telling his mother about these strange tendencies in his
wife, but decided to keep it private.
Paul
woke in the dead of night to a pleasant sensation. Tara was gently
stroking his penis, which was rapidly stiffening. She woke him up that
way now and then, and he really liked it. He had also been known to
massage a sleeping Tara between the legs, very gently. They had given
each other standing permission to do that now and then without asking,
so it was not a violation of anyone's consent.
He was on his
back, legs spread a bit. He was aware of Tara shifting around, moving.
She had hold of his penis, pointing it upwards, and it bumped against
something.
Curiosity piqued, he opened his eyes to look. In the
dim light he could make out Tara squatting above him, trying to point
his penis at her vagina!
"What are you doing?" he hissed loudly, pushing her away.
"I was trying to get some sperm up where I want it," she said angrily.
"Well, you can't do it without my permission. No one has to do anything with sex if he doesn't want to."
"Right. Looks like an anti-patriarchy, right? Here I am, trying to steal sex from you."
"You're impossible," said Paul, turning away from her in bed.
Tara lay down, putting her back up against his.
After a few minutes, Paul turned over and spooned against her back.
"What if we did it and then you felt really terrible and hated me?"
She
turned onto her back and looked at him. "Give me a little credit,
right? I say I want to try it, and I want to try it. Even in the
patriarchy, lots of women loved to get it over and over again. It's all
over the books we read. Penis in their vagina, sperm shooting out
deep." She demonstrated with a finger poking in and out of the curved
fingers of her other.
When Paul didn't say anything, she turned
away and said with a sneer, "Or you could do it to Molly. Then if she
hates you it's no big deal."
"You know the rules on that. That would be like bigamy, or an affair."
"Fuck the rules! Our mothers don't own us," she said. "Besides, you're ten times stronger than anyone else here."
"I'm sleeping over here," she said, going over to the other bed they used as a place to read, tossing books onto the floor.
"Fine," said Tara.
Paul
did not sleep for a long time. He kept going over his conversation with
Tara, over and over again. Now and then he reflected on what she'd said
about strength. It was true -- inside he would always be a little boy,
but he was tall, and he could lift logs and rocks no one else could.
Jacob was older, but had a slight build.
He hoped Tara's mood
would lift in the morning, but she avoided him and when their eyes met
briefly she was plainly still angry. That night as they lay down in
different beds, she said, "You're such a good boy, why don't you go
back and sleep with your mommy. And in the morning, make sure to get
her permission before you pee in the potty."
Paul felt a surge
of anger. It's true his mother didn't own him, but she was his mother!
Tara's pestering was wearing him down, making him doubt his
convictions. For half an hour his thoughts stewed.
There she was
in the other bed, snoring just a little. She wanted his penis in her
vagina. Putting aside his doubts for the moment, he thought about what
it would be like. His penis approaching the forbidden place, forcing
its way into her body. The prospect made him dizzy -- and very stiff.
The
idea of trying the old, natural way of babies made sense -- if there
was any excuse for rape, that was it. His penis twitched. He was sick
of fighting with her in this strange, passive way.
Oh, to hell with it! He rose from bed, ditched his pajamas, then stood beside her.
"OK, bitch, make like a turtle!" he growled.
She
woke with a start, turned, and looked. Quickly getting his meaning, she
said "OK", but he realized she looked a little frightened too. Well, to
hell with that. She stripped naked in seconds, and then knelt on the
bed, presenting her butt to him.
He knelt behind her, opened her
lips roughly, realizing how much he wanted this. He stuck his penis tip
in, and pushed. He felt an exciting hot wetness at his tip, but it
didn't go inside. He pushed again, as hard as he could, but nothing
happened.
"Wait, wait, we'll get it," said Tara. "Keep trying, just not quite so hard."
So
he kept poking, and she shifted around different ways. Then a poke went
in a bit, inside her body, surrounding his penis tip in warm wetness.
Violence.
He was inflicting violence on Tara. The excitement was also
overwhelming. Everything about his life up to this point had been
controlled, implications thought through. He was always on alert for
signs of the patriarchy emerging. But the tip of his stiff cock was
buried in a wet place between Tara's legs, a hot, wet, and slick place.
His hands grabbed her hips, and with grunts he pushed his penis further
and further into her. Every inch was an extra violation, and every inch
felt better than the last.
Make like a turtle, he thought. He
jammed hard, and felt his penis surge in until the tip bumped the end.
And then he began fucking, fast and hard and rude. When he felt the
ecstasy of orgasm approaching, he jammed one last time super deep while
his sperm spewed out. The pleasure was amazing. He felt he'd made
contact with his deepest nature, his true purpose in life. Relaxing, he
let himself slide out of her, and as he did he also knew that he had
betrayed everything he had been taught.
She held the position of
her body, but her head dropped to the pillow. "There, bitch. You
satisfied now?" he said with some bitterness.
He returned to his
bed and turned to face the wall. Conflicting emotions raged. He felt
guilty about raping and humiliating Tara. He was also aware of
something very strong stirring, a beast. It had also felt like the best
thing he'd ever done in his life. It was right. Did that mean the patriarchy was within him, ready to burst forth?
Seconds
after he lay down, Tara snuggled up behind him, squirming, caressing,
kissing. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she said.
"So, you liked that?" said Paul.
"Yes! It hurt some, but I liked it. I liked it a whole lot! What about you?"
"Well,
um, it felt pretty good actually. Really good. Fantastic, actually!" He
sighed and groaned. "But what if my mother finds out?"
"Oh, Paul, fuck your mother -- and mine too! We make our decisions, they make theirs."
He
felt a guilty surge of anger at the older women, then turned to face
Tara. They kissed and caressed. Soon his penis was stiff again.
"So now -- if you're willing -- slide it into me again, the normal human way, face to face?"
Paul
was very willing. He mounted and buried his penis in the special hole
up between Tara's legs, the hole he now realized he'd been aiming for
his whole life. Tara smiled up at him. He smiled back. When he started
fucking faster and deeper, Tara smiled more. It contradicted everything
he'd been taught. He fucked away for a good long time. When he felt
good and ready, he lunged and spurted.
It was like all their
earlier licking and hand action had just been a warm up. Finally they
were doing what they really wanted to be doing. They did it once more
before falling asleep, then did it again in the morning. They arranged
to meet back in their room around noon the next day and did it again.
They did it turtle style. They did it standing up. They did it with him
flat on his back, Tara plunging up and down on him. Day after day, they
did it at least twice, and were happier together than they'd ever been.
After a few days he suggested licking Tara again, and she was happy to
have an orgasm every couple days. But a lot of the time she just wanted
to get fucked.
The morning after the first time he fucked his
mate, the world looked brighter, more colorful, more vivid. He eyed
Molly with new interest. He wanted to fuck her too. Toss her down on a
bed, force her legs apart, and fuck it into her. Not that he'd do that,
of course. But if she wanted to... He felt some guilty stirrings when
he looked at his sisters Alison and Kira too.
Weeks
passed. Tara missed her period, and she began feeling changes in her
body. She missed another period. It looked like she was pregnant.
Everyone was happy. Nothing was said publicly about the change in
technique that had been responsible.
One morning Molly looked at
Paul a different way -- a sort of shy, awkward way. It immediately hit
him -- she wants to get fucked. He was basically right, though they had
some song and dance to go through before she admitted it. When she
caught him alone, she said Tara had told her what they had done
differently. She spoke of their joint decision approvingly. She wanted
to see if it would work to get her pregnant too.
"So, would you like me to engage in sexual intercourse with you?"
"Well,
if you wouldn't mind terribly. I know you're partnered with Tara, but
she said that it would be OK with her if we were just trying to make a
baby."
His mother and Heather couldn't tell him what to do. Why could Tara?
"How'd you like to do it right now?"
"Oh! I don't think I'm fertile just now."
"To heck with that. I want to do it to you now. You willing?"
"Oh, I don't know... Um..."
He
took her by the hand and led her to a seldom-used room. He put his arm
around her waist and pulled her tight against him, front to front.
"I want to do it to you, right now," he growled.
She looked at him, eyes wide, confused.
"If
we're going to do it later, why not now? If you say no to me now, I
might not feel like it later.... You've dreamed of it, right? Getting a
penis to stuff your pussy?" 'Pussy' was a word they hardly ever used on
the island, a swear word. His usage conveyed an attitude.
"I... Well..." she said, then stopped.
He
reached his hand up between her legs as she stood. After a brief
hesitation, she moved her feet wider apart to aid his exploration. He
cupped her labia through her panties, then started massaging. She
looked up at him in wonder.
"That gets you wet, right? It gets
Tara wet, and when you two used to share secrets you told her it does.
And why does it get you wet? Because your body is expecting a hard cock
to fuck you! Your body wants the cock, and the wet is just so the in
and out will be smooth."
She nodded, but then her brow furrowed. "'Fuck' is a bad word," she said.
"I've
been taught my whole life to be so sensitive and make sure I never
offend a female. I'm sick of it. If you want to get a baby this way, it
will be by 'fucking', not 'making love'. What I'm going to do now is
fuck you. Fucking is what Tara and I call it, and she loves it. I'm
going to fuck your cunt, OK? Your cunt, cunt, cunt! You still willing
-- to get fucked?"
Molly looked at him, in evident shock at the bad words he used in such profusion. But then she nodded.
"So, lie back."
She did.
"Pull your panties down... Spread your legs... Good girl..."
He pulled his own pants and briefs off, revealing his ready cock.
"This is what men and women are supposed to do," he said. "This is the way to get pregnant."
She looked at him earnestly.
He
worked himself into position and pressed. When he got his tip poked
against her opening, he realized she was just as tight as Tara had
been. But his cock was perfectly capable of doing its job if he wanted
to force it into her. He did.
Her eyes went wide as he pressed
in. Her flesh gave way to his tip, and then enveloped it. He started
fucking, leaning hard on the instroke, penetrating her more each time.
Her vagina absorbed the violence of each deeper invasion. It's just
what it was made for, he reflected, just like Tara's.
His face
went slack with dumb animal pleasure. He fucked the second pussy of his
life. He glanced at Molly's face, but found it hard to read. The old
guilt and anxiety welled up in him, but he cast it aside. Molly had
agreed to be violated, he was doing his job, and he'd worry about her
feelings later. The pleasure was immense, the urge to ejaculate built.
He'd been taught that ejaculation inside a woman was a final insult
added to the injury of violent penetration -- the assertion of enduring
ownership. Very well, Molly, he thought to himself, I hereby own you!
And his orgasm was especially intense as he joyfully spat many gobs of
sperm way up inside her.
He pulled out and lay beside her. "That
felt fantastic!" he said, and treasured his selfish satisfaction for a
full ten seconds before adding, "And what did you think?"
Molly
said, "I've been taught my whole life that you were selfish in not
trying to give me pleasure. Then you raped me, and you're an especially
evil man because you already have a partner."
The words
resonated within Paul's head, amplified over and over because of course
that was exactly what he had been taught too. Shame and guilt washed
over him.
"But I thought it was pretty nice. Not all good, but
very interesting. Something good that could be better." She paused.
"But of course, it's just for procreation, right? So it doesn't have to
get better..."
He studied her face, and then moved close and kissed her. She looked confused, but kissed him back just a little.
"You
know I had to choose one of you, and Tara was a bit more my type, so I
chose her. But I always liked you a whole lot. And you were even a
little more appealing sexually."
"Really?" she said.
As he brought his lips to hers once more, she said, "But what about Tara?"
"Why
can't I kiss you both? You don't have any better option, right? And
your sister would want you to be happy!" He added a little wicked grin.
Whether Tara wanted Molly to be happy in this particular way was not at
all clear.
Molly gave him a dirty look, then grabbed his head
and brought his lips to hers, kissing him passionately. Hands caressed
gently at first, then with more urgency. Remaining clothes vanished.
With
Paul on his back, Molly knelt over him, gave him a significant look,
and then brought her face to his crotch and took his penis into her
mouth.
Paul was startled. Molly was degrading herself. But it
felt really good. And why not, if that's what she chose? Common decency
required that he warn her. "If you keep doing that, I'll ejaculate in
your mouth."
"That's OK," she said briefly before engulfing his penis once more.
He
was violating her, even though she was the instigator. To heck with it.
The itchy pleasure built, and he wiggled his hips and thrust just a
little.
"Oh, shit, Molly! That's great, oh, wow, oh, oh, aaaahhhhh!" He delivered his spurts right into her mouth.
Molly raised her head and spit out his sperm onto his stomach.
He felt a weird surge of annoyance. "Hey, I gave you a gift! Are you going to give it back?"
She hesitated, then smiled at him and then dove down, licking the semen off his stomach and swallowing it.
That was better.
"Well, this has been nice," she said, looking around and reaching for her panties.
"No, stay with me a bit more -- if you're willing."
She hesitated and then snuggled up against him.
He
slid his hand between her legs and began stroking her pussy. Before
long she started murmuring and twitching her pelvis just a little this
way and that. It took a few minutes for him to recover from his last
orgasm, but his penis rose to full readiness before long.
"I want to fuck your cunt again," he said.
After the briefest hesitation, she gave a big grin and lay back with legs spread very wide, ready for the taking.
He
mounted and aimed. It was like a dance they knew. They'd only done it
once before, but they'd also been doing it for millions of years.
Paul
held himself up, feasting his eyes on the sight of Molly's sizable
breasts jiggling with each fresh violating thrust, feasting his eyes on
her hips, her spread legs, her tuft of hair, and the intimate spot
below that tuft where his stiff patriarchal prong was plunging in and
out. It felt good, and he was happy to go on and on, shifting position
slightly now and then. After one shift, Molly said, "Oooo! Just like
that, keep doing that!"'
Paul figured he was free to fuck her
any way he chose. But this way felt as good as any of the other angles,
so he kept doing it. He certainly had nothing against making Molly
happy. Her moans and gasps became more urgent, and in under a minute
she gave a big gasp. Male violence led to the ultimate in female
satisfaction. Paul fucked away like crazy then, spurting into Molly's
depths seconds later.
When Paul went to bed with Tara that night, he said, "I fucked Molly today."
"Oh," said Tara. "Is she fertile? I thought it would be a while yet."
"No, she wasn't. I did it because I felt like it. She was willing. Then later we kissed and made out and did it again."
"Paul! That's... Making babies is one thing, but..."
"Yeah,
yeah, I know. One man, one woman. But guess what? There's no man for
Molly. I like her a whole lot. I like you a whole lot. Why not both of
you?"
"Because... because..." Tara started crying. Paul held
her. He could see it would be hard for her to give up his undivided
attention, but it also seemed only fair.
A few days later she
surprised him by taking his penis into her mouth, something she'd never
done before. She licked and sucked until he shot his goop at the back
of her mouth. She swallowed.
"Did you compare notes with Molly?" he said with a suspicious smile.
"Well, yes," she said, looking away. "But you didn't mind, right?"
As
weeks went by she seemed to get over her distress, perhaps in part
because he fucked her with as much enthusiasm as before. Or perhaps she
realized that if she made an ultimatum, he'd just partner with Molly
instead.
But he didn't hesitate to use his experience with Molly
to benefit Tara. He duplicated the motion that had given Molly an
orgasm, and although it took a long time, Tara finally had an orgasm
that way too, without benefit of tongue.
Paul divided his
attentions between the two sisters, slipping into Molly's hut in the
middle of the night when everyone else was asleep. When it was anywhere
near the middle of Molly's cycle, he saved all his sperm for her,
depositing it way in deep where it had the best chance of achieving its
purpose.
After the second month of vigorous mid-month full-fledged fucking, Molly got pregnant too.
The pregnant women confided their secret to conception to his sisters Kira and Alison.
With
this new possibility in mind, Alison reported she caressed Jacob,
hoping to lead him to the desired end -- or at least to give her some
sperm she could finger up inside, but he didn't respond. When she found
him hard in the middle of the night once, she tried taking advantage of
that to stroke him, but Jacob woke soon and was angry with her.
Alison asked her little brother if he would have a talk with her husband.
"Hey, Jacob," Paul said, when the moment was right during their walk down the beach. "You know how your sisters are pregnant?"
"Yeah, that's great! Congratulations!"
"Do you know what we did differently?"
"No, what?" said Jacob.
"We had sex the old-fashioned way. Penis in vagina. Ejaculation inside vagina."
"Yeah, right," laughed Jacob.
"No, really, we did."
"Oh. Wow."
"It feels great. I'd highly recommend it."
"So they didn't mind being raped and humiliated that way?"
"No, they actually both like it a lot."
"You're crazy. Going against everything our mothers have taught us."
"Yeah, well, not everything our mothers said is right. We're adults. We get to decide how to live."
"But you're going to recreate the patriarchy... Does Alison know about the rapes?"
"Yeah, she does. The women talk."
"So that explains it..."
"What?"
"Never mind."
"Anyway, she'd really like you to do it to her, but she wanted me to ask you because she's afraid you'll be mad at her."
"Well, I'm glad she's willing, but I'm not going to throw away everything we've worked for in this community."
"It's
not very hard, you know. It doesn't take long. You wait 'til it's
stiff, then climb up on her and stick it in. It doesn't take more than
a few seconds, then the stuff come out, but it goes way in deep where
it seems to work better."
"Yeah, I know how the animals do it."
"Well, why not be an animal if it's to make a baby?"
"No."
"If you don't like Alison, you could do it to Kira. She's willing too."
"No. If you like doing it so much, why don't you fuck them?"
"They're
my sisters! We don't want any two-headed babies. All you gotta do is
get it up into them and spurt? What kind of a man are you, anyway?"
Jacob hesitated before fixing Paul with his gaze. "No, the question is what kind of a man are you?"
Paul was lying in the sun after a swim when he heard footsteps approach.
"Is it true?" asked Heather in a loud voice.
"What? Uh, hi," said Paul.
"Is it true you've been raping my daughters? Pregnancy from rape?"
Paul
sat up. Heather was a very intimidating woman. She been almost a second
mother to him growing up. Not the kind you run to for hugs, but the
kind who instructs and admonishes. He felt like a small boy again.
"Um, yes, we have. I mean, that's why they're pregnant. We've been doing rape together."
"Doing rape together? What the hell do you mean? YOU have been raping THEM! Blaming the victim doesn't cut it."
"Actually, it was their idea." That didn't sound so good. Like tattling.
"Sexual
intercourse is rape, it is always the man's fault -- you could hardly
get an erection against your will now, could you? It's part of the
patriarchy, and I can't believe you have reinvented it here on the
island!"
Paul felt a bit of his adult self re-emerging. "Tara
really wanted a baby. The civilized way of doing it wasn't working. You
knew that. So she wanted to try the old-fashioned way. The way all
babies were made until recently."
Heather stomped on the sand. "Better to have no babies than reintroduce rape."
"How did you find out?" asked Paul.
"My
son, Jacob... He's a man for you, a liberated man who fits into the new
society free of any trace of patriarchy. He even said you pulled one of
the classic moves of the patriarchy -- insulting his manhood. Telling
him that if he didn't rape your sisters -- YOUR sisters! -- then he
wasn't a real man."
"I didn't mean it that way --"
"And
then you have an affair. You think you're entitled to another woman
too. Cheat on your wife, play them off against each other."
"There was no other man, except their brother. Molly wanted to get pregnant."
"Oh, excuses, excuses! What will we do with you..." She stormed off.
Heather convened a meeting of the entire community.
"When
we established this New Hope community, there was one principle above
all that it stood for. The end of the patriarchy. We gave up our
friends and families to create this new world for you. We brought with
us two boys who have now grown into young men. One of them, Jacob,
understands how this world runs. He knows how to treat women. The
other..." She faced Paul.
"This man has reintroduced rape onto
our island. The act that lies at the heart of the patriarchy. Violent
penetration of the female body, subjugating her to his will. He has
done this not once, no, but many times. He has brainwashed Tara into
thinking she wants this and rapes her constantly. Then he began raping
Molly too. Taking a second woman, and raping her too. Raping them both
until they became pregnant. Their bodies are now occupied by his child.
He relaxes in the sun while they have no choice but to carry these
babies like parasites within their bodies..."
Grace spoke up tentatively. "But Heather, they wanted to get pregnant."
Heather
whirled and glared at Paul's mother. "When they could of their own free
will put the semen in their own bodies, that was one thing. But for
Paul to rape them -- sorry, that just was not their choice any more."
"This
is bullshit!" said Paul, rising out of his chair. "They wanted me to do
it. They asked. Tara asked me and I refused, and she kept asking and
asking, and then finally I agreed to do it. Tell them, Tara."
"Well,"
said Tara, stammering and stealing glances at her mother. "I raised the
idea, I guess," she said. "Thought it was something to think about."
"Something
to think about? You were trying to trick me into doing it by finding me
asleep at night with an erection and trying to get it into you!"
"Oh,
really? I don't remember, not really..." said Tara, looking down while
turning pink. Paul realized that for all she had urged him not to worry
about what his mother thought, she was frightened of her own mother.
Heather rose. "Sit down!" she commanded Paul. He sat.
"See?
You're a liar, Paul. A liar and a rapist. A male chauvinist pig. A
disgrace to everything we've accomplished here." She looked around at
the faces watching her.
"And I've decided what we have to do. The next time the supply boat comes, Paul is going to leave with it."
Everyone
looked at Heather, many with shock. Paul's head spun. To go back into
the world? By himself? He had no idea how the world worked, these were
the only people he knew...
"But --" began Grace.
"We discussed it, and you agreed," said Heather firmly.
"We discussed it as a possibility --"
Paul
rose and took a few steps towards Heather. "I'm not going." He looked
around at the others. "What's the matter with you? Who appointed her
dictator?" he said, pointing.
"Sit down!" said Heather.
"No," said Paul. He was nearly a foot taller than her, his body that of a young man.
"Don't
think you can intimidate me!" said Heather. "Sit down!" she said,
shoving him hard back towards his seat. Paul stumbled back, but caught
his balance.
"No," he said, in front of Heather again. "You sit down!"
"How
dare you!" hissed the older woman. She pushed on Paul's chest, but he
was ready and this time didn't budge. Instead, he gave a gentle shove
to Heather's chest and she stumbled back, half on the floor and half
against the chair. She scrambled up to sitting position.
Jacob rose when Paul pushed his mother. "Hey, cut it out!" he said.
"You
sit down too!" He was standing a way he'd never stood before, thinking
thoughts he'd never really let himself think before, looking down at
the shorter man. He was willing to punch Jacob, to attack him.
After a brief hesitation, Jacob sat.
Heather
said from her seated position, "And now you use your physical strength
to bully women. You challenge other men. Don't you women see it? See
what he's doing? I couldn't believe it would happen so fast. Male
domination, in all its forms, appearing in this deviant man! He's
trying to take over! But we can resist if we work together. We're
strong together."
There was no talk or movement in support of Heather's suggestion.
Paul said, "How many of you want me to leave on the next supply boat?"
Heather's hand shot up, and Jacob's. Molly and Tara looked uncomfortable, but didn't raise their hands.
"How many of you want me to stay?" Paul raised his own hand. The other 5 who hadn't voted raised their hands one by one.
Paul walked through an afternoon breeze to his sister Kira's hut.
"Hi, Kira."
"Hi, Paul."
"Tara said you wanted to see me about, um, making a baby."
"Jacob
doesn't even try any more. He used to give me a sample every other
month or so -- but not any more. He doesn't even give samples to
Alison."
"Yeah, I don't know what's wrong with him. He even gets
it that his mother isn't in charge any more, that she's not going to
beat him up."
"But it's no use. That leaves you."
"Right. Your full-blooded brother."
"I
know, but lots of times there aren't any problems, right? I mean, the
chances are greater, but most of the time it works out OK. Like when a
baby is conceived in incest. It's risky, but otherwise I don't get to
have any babies at all."
"That much makes sense. I guess I could
start giving you samples. But it's really hard to get excited about
that when I have two pussies I can fuck any time I want."
"You really are losing your feminism, aren't you?"
"Well,
I'm pissed off that I was raised like a second-class citizen. Women
like to get fucked -- at least Tara and Molly do, and I like to fuck
them."
"I've thought about that too," said Kira, looking down. "I'm not sure, you understand, but it's an, um, interesting idea."
"You want a man to commit violence on you, subjugate you, humiliate you?"
"Well..." she said. "Your two women like it, and when I think about it... I kind of shudder." She shuddered.
Paul looked at her. "Now?"
"Well, I don't know..."
That meant now. They were in her bedroom. No one else was around. Another pussy!
He
didn't feel like kissing her, so he just stripped. She did too. There
she was, lovely breasts, pubic hair, welcoming hot, moist tunnel below
-- but his penis was completely soft.
"Let's see about getting
you ready," he said, and moved his hand between her legs. He rubbed the
way that Tara and Molly liked it. Kira closed her eyes and smiled. The
problem was his lack of readiness, not hers. Come on, man! Here's a
pussy ready for the fucking. All you have to do is get stiff and fuck
it. No dice.
Kira moaned and said, "I'm ready." She opened her eyes and saw the problem. "Oh," she said.
"I don't know what's wrong," he said. "You're beautiful, you're hot, you're sexy."
"But I'm your sister..."
"I'm trying to ignore that part, but somehow it doesn't seem to be working."
"Well...
I do really think of you as my brother -- can't seem to forget it. My
fantasies are all about Jacob doing it. I mean, you're more handsome,
but just not for me, somehow. Maybe it's the same for you?"
"Yeah, maybe... I could give you a sample, at least, I think."
"That would be nice."
"Um,
maybe if you take a walk to the beach and back and I'll have it for
you." The path to the beach was about a quarter mile long.
"OK."
With
his sister gone and images of Tara in his mind, he rapidly stiffened,
jerked for a while and spurted. When Kira returned, he was just
relaxing on his back, semen on his stomach.
"Can I watch you stick it up there?" Paul said.
"Well,
OK," said Kira, stripping from the waist down. She held her pussy open
with her left hand, took a finger of sperm with her right and shoved it
in as far as she could.
But with the total failure of that method in the past, they were not going to wait a few months to see if it worked.
Tara explained the plan, and Paul thought it sounded good.
In
the dead of a moonless night, Paul got very stiff feeling the contours
of his wife's body. Her belly was big enough that he did her from the
rear, plunging in and fucking away. The image of their first sex came
back to him. When he was good and excited, he pulled out and groping to
his left found another female rear end and pretended it was Molly.
There was the pussy slit, and he worked his phallus into it. This
female was a virgin, she was tight, but he pressed hard and made his
entrance.
The female sucked in her breath. Paul got on with the
fucking. He fucked her for a good long while, making sure she
understood just what her vagina was meant for and how the process of
getting fucked worked. When he was good and ready, he jammed himself
into her deep and blew his load. As the last dribble left his penis
tip, he let himself remember that this was his darling big sister Kira.
"So, what did you think?" he panted.
Her voice came from the darkness. "It hurt. My pussy isn't deep enough to take your whole salami."
"So you never want to do it again?" he asked, guilty. "Why didn't you say something?"
"Of course I want to do it again! I feel -- alive in a new way. It just hurt too."
Tara spoke. "Oh, it will adjust. Mine did; Molly's did."
Paul
said, "I suppose I could just not fuck in quite so hard..." His wave of
anti-feminist feeling re-emerged. "Nah, forget that. If you want to get
stuffed with cock, you get the whole thing."
Kira said with a teasing tone, "What happened to the cute little boy who would do anything I said?"
"I
grew into a big man, and I realized I resented being told the whole
time I was growing up that I was just evil waiting to happen. And now
I'm the strongest guy on the island, the alpha male."
And
so the sisterly fuckings began. After a few times in the dark, his body
got the idea that Kira was for fucking after all and he could screw her
in the light face to face and enjoy the experience fully. He needed to
start in the dark with Alison too, using Kira's pussy as a warm-up so
he could deflower the other virgin with a stiff tool.
Tara and
Molly got very large, and brotherly sperm united with sisterly egg the
first time Kira produced one. But Alison kept getting her periods,
month after month.
Heather
seethed for a good long while after being intimidated and shoved by
Paul. She discussed it endlessly with Grace. At first she thought the
other woman was just sticking up for her son, right or wrong.
But gradually she had come to see that the situation really was very different from the outside world they had left behind.
For
one thing, Jacob really just wasn't interested in sex with women at
all. He was gay! She'd brought up the subject with him very indirectly,
and he'd denied it in a way that let her know that he kind of knew he
was, even if he hadn't accepted it yet. So she wasn't going to tell
another soul. You didn't out someone.
That left Paul as the only
man on a largely unpopulated island. She understood the young women's
eagerness to have babies. The open space and the plentiful food just
made babies seem right.
She didn't like to think about the
copulation that was going on. Her memory of the one time she had been
penetrated made her shudder. It just seemed like a horrible act. Yet
she knew intellectually that men and women had been doing it forever.
And some women apparently did find it pleasurable. But she still
thought that giving in to that temptation was part of feeding the
patriarchy. Pleasure lay in the clitoris, not the vagina. But choice --
it really was about choice, wasn't it?
Reason only goes so far,
though. Every time she thought of Paul as ruler of the island,
Heather's blood pressure shot up. Heather and Grace knew far more about
the world than any of the younger generation, they knew the evils of
the patriarchy -- they knew best. It was unfortunate that Paul thought
his ideas were better. But democracy was the right way to go, in
theory, and its time had come on their island. And men did deserve the
right to participate in democracy -- though she couldn't get over her
gut feeling that the world would be a better place if it was run by
women.
Grace had pointed out early on that he didn't tell the
others what to do. Paul had never threatened Heather again. She'd never
ordered him around again either, while some men in the patriarchy would
have made a point of showing her who was boss.
Paul had been
trying to help Heather's daughters get pregnant for years without
success by the civilized method. He had given them semen to insert into
their own vaginas, and she fondly recalled how she had conceived all
three of her children by that method. But that hadn't worked here. And
the disgusting animal act of copulation had made both of her daughters
pregnant, and now Kira too.
As
Tara 's due date approached, Heather and Grace marshaled all their
knowledge and what materials they could in preparation for the birth.
And
so it came to pass that by way of a completely natural childbirth --
not that she had any choice -- Tara had brought into the world a
perfect little girl who she and Paul named Stacy.
A couple months later, Molly had given birth to Peter. It was a breech delivery, but they had managed it somehow.
The
presence of babies made the fight against the patriarchy slip from
Heather's mind. When she saw the love in Paul's eyes as he held his son
or daughter, she thought there really was hope. Maybe she could worry
less about the ultimate shape of their little society and enjoy life
right now. Other times she reminded herself that vigilance was the way
-- eternal vigilance.
Heather
woke as from a nightmare, and then realized that the voice she heard
was not coming from a dream. It was faint but distinct.
"No, no, please! Anything but that! No, no, leave me alone!" said a high voice.
"Forget it, bitch. You're mine!" said the low voice, who could be no one but Paul.
She
was up at once, frantic, and pulled on her robe. The memories flooded
her of her own rape: the knife, the sneer of the man as he'd violently
penetrated her body, his laugh as she cried in pain, his running
commentary on how good it felt...
She must at all costs protect
this woman, as no one had protected her. She emerged from her hut, and
thought of shouting, but then thought again of how Paul could overpower
her with ease. She couldn't best him by strength alone. Looking around,
she grabbed the replacement porch railing they hadn't put in yet, and
followed the sound.
"Ow! No, you're hurting me! Please stop, no, no...."
"Shut up and hold still, bitch," growled the man's voice.
She
turned the corner and saw them. There was the woman, on her back, dress
shoved up around her middle, shaking her head from side to side. And
there was the man, with shirt on but lower part naked, mounted on her,
bottom contorting as he violated the woman, hard, over and over. His
hands pinned her upper arms to the ground, and he grunted, muttering,
"You dirty cunt, filthy cunt..."
Further enraged by the horrible
language, in one motion Heather approached and swung the board hard,
bringing it down on the man's head.
He groaned and fell limp
onto the woman, who said, "What the hell? Paul?" She scrambled out from
under him. "Who...? Heather! What the hell?" It was Alison.
"Are you all right, honey? I came as fast as I could."
"I'm fine. What did you do to Paul? No, no... Paul! Paul!" She was screaming now.
"I know a rape when I hear one, and that was rape!"
"You killed him! We were pretending! It was make-believe!"
The
words stung. her whole world upside down. Figures appeared in the
moonlight, bending over Paul, talking with Alison, glancing warily at
Heather. It was Grace who took the board from her hand.
Paul
wasn't dead, but he was unconscious for many days. Some young woman was
with him around the clock, as he lay in his bed in his hut. Heather lay
in her own bed for much of the day -- crying, stunned, guilty. It was
her son Jacob who came to sit with her and offer her comfort. She had
told Ruth about her rape, but Ruth had been dead so many years now...
Jacob was the second person she revealed it to. She didn't go into all
the detail, but she conveyed how horrible it had been. Jacob listened
and accepted.
Then Paul began to stir, to everyone's delight. He
opened his eyes weakly, but gave no indication he understood what
anyone was saying. He swallowed some broth Kira offered him. In the
ensuing days he was mostly out cold, but occasionally woke to drink
more broth.
She
thought about what Heather had heard. They had been acting their parts
with gusto. "Please stop! No, no!" "You dirty cunt, filthy cunt!" Not
much doubt what it sounded like. Heather had been doing the decent
thing.
Had Alison killed Paul? Not entirely. She told herself
all Heather had to do was shout or ask what was wrong, and it would
have been cleared up. But still, it felt to Alison like a big part of
it was her fault.
She wanted a baby so much. She and Paul had
been trying different things, and this rape play had been her idea --
though he had been enthusiastic and needed no convincing. To do it
outside, on the ground, in the middle of the night was an added twist.
Days
turned into weeks. The mothers brought their babies in from time to
time, hoping they might help Paul come back to life. Heather never
visited, and Jacob wasn't there often. Grace, Kira, and Alison were
there most. But they eventually left him alone at night. He didn't have
crises that needed attention -- he mostly just slept.
One thing
Alison noticed was that sometimes there was a lump under the sheet.
When she was alone with him once, she peeked underneath and saw Paul's
organ in its stiff readiness.
The rape play had been at what she
estimated was her most fertile day, and she occasionally had the guilty
wish that Paul had ejaculated before Heather knocked him out -- just
possibly she would have at least gotten her baby. But as it came around
towards her fertile time again, she considered. Paul certainly liked
sex. If they all thought babies in the room might give him some
interest in life, why wouldn't some sexual stimulation?
She
crept in to his room in the middle of the night and caressed his face
and hair. He didn't stir. Removing the sheet, she ran her hands over
his body -- a body she had liked when it just belonged to her little
brother. But more recently she had come to adore it. Then she let her
hands approach his limp penis. She lightly caressed his pubic hair and
ball sac and the penis itself. Slowly it filled with blood. She rubbed
it gently with her hand. As it got stiff, she made her hand like a
vagina and stroked up and down gently. It got fully stiff. On impulse,
she bent over and took the tip in her mouth as she continued to stroke
up and down. She'd never done this before -- he was her brother, after
all, and attempted impregnation was really the main point of their time
together. She tried different things with her tongue. She felt his
pelvis push up just a little. Instantly she stopped and looked to see
if he was awake, but there was no sign of it. She engulfed his hot,
swollen knob in her mouth once more and began flicking her tongue. All
at once his pelvis pushed up a little harder and a great flood of
weird-tasting stuff erupted in her mouth. Startled, she pulled her head
back and saw two more spurts shoot out.
She gave a guilty smile
as she spit out the contents of her mouth. At least his parts still
worked. Some part of his brain must be happy? She remembered her
ultimate purpose, hitched up her dress, straddled his body, and
fingered the semen up into her vagina as best she could.
Actually
she had just assaulted him sexually -- he certainly was in no condition
to give consent. She wet a cloth with the water from the pitcher and
cleaned him up. No one else should know about this.
The next
night was the early side of her fertile period as best she could tell.
She crept into Paul's room in the middle of the night, got him erect
with her hands, and then mounted him in the moonlight. They had tried
this position sometimes, so she knew how to do it. She impaled herself
on his erection and began to go up and down. It was a good position for
giving herself an orgasm ordinarily, but she didn't care about that
now. She very much wanted Paul's orgasm. She lifted herself up and
down, trying to imitate the motion he used when he was about to come.
It was tiring work, but eventually his pelvis lifted up slightly once,
and she immediately went up and down faster. She felt his pelvis push
upward a little more than usual and when she held still, felt faint
twitches in his penis. A few seconds later, right on cue, she felt it
begin to shrink inside her. But she stayed engaged, looking down at
him, tears in her eyes. Many minutes later, when his penis was just an
insignificant floppy thing, she pulled away.
Alison
crept quietly into Paul's hut and looked into his room, then froze.
Another figure was kneeling by the bed, mouth on Paul's penis much as
hers had been before. It was Jacob! As she watched, she saw his lips
come off Paul's organ, which started shrinking as Jacob spit out the
contents of his mouth. He then mounted Paul in reverse direction. Since
the head of Paul's bed was towards the door, it was Jacob's backside
she saw, and she saw him using his hand to rub the shrinking organ
around his anus. He then turned around and straddled Paul's pelvis.
With one hand he encircled Paul's phallus, and with the other he jacked
his own penis rapidly. Seconds later, his semen spurted onto Paul's
chest and Jacob sat back, breathing heavily. Only then did he see his
"wife" Alison watching him.
"Oh, shit," he said softly. "It's not what it looks like, I swear!"
It was hard to see any other way to see it. But she strode forward. "I wanted that stuff."
"Um, which?"
"Well,
I wasn't expecting to find you here, now, was I -- but I'll take all I
can get. Shovel it into me -- that's the least you can do!"
So
as Alison herself straddled Paul and held her vaginal lips open wide,
Jacob dutifully fingered up the combined mess of his and Paul's
ejaculations and tucked it up inside her.
When she dismounted and sat on a chair by the bed, Jacob put his pants back on and sat on the other.
"So
you're gay. That explains a lot." When Jacob didn't say anything, she
continued, "OK. Hmmm. I'm sorry. Your mom's gay, right? I mean a
lesbian. And it's just fine. It's fine to be gay. But not so good for a
woman to be married to one..." She paused, making connections in her
mind. "And so it's really easy to uphold the feminist ideal if you
really don't want to have sex with a woman at all."
"Feminist
ideals are good. Sticking my penis into any of you is the most
disgusting thing I can imagine," he said. "You want to know my fantasy?"
"Um, OK."
"Really? I mean my real fantasy?"
"Yes, tell me."
He pointed. "I want that cock up my butt! Deep and hard -- so hard it hurts. Violent penetration!"
Alison
shrugged. "Maybe it's not violent between men, since neither one of
them is a woman who can get screwed by the patriarchy."
Jacob smirked, then giggled. Alison giggled. Soon they were both laughing. She rose to give him a hug, which he accepted warily.
"So am I an OK person? You don't despise me?"
"No," sighed Alison.
"It
was really hard to get pestered constantly... 'Give me some sperm!' And
then later, 'Why won't you fuck me? Paul does it!' Over and over again."
"I'm sorry. Why didn't you just tell us?"
He paused. "You know the person who I didn't really want to find out..."
Alison thought a moment, then pointed at Paul.
Jacob nodded. "I couldn't stand the thought of him rejecting me, making fun of me. I've been in love with him for years."
"I'm sorry, Jacob..."
"And
then when he went into his coma, I'm grief-stricken, like everyone else
-- but I can't really show how much. And then, it dawned on me that I
might finally be able to have sex with him. And it's creepy and
disgusting."
"Poor Jacob," said Alison, hugging him. "I can't blame you. Look what I'm doing."
"Well, you know he'd love to be banging you if he was awake, trying to get you pregnant."
"Well,
what he doesn't know won't hurt him. I mean, he's not gay, that's for
sure, but he'd want you to be happy, right? He's a nice guy."
"Yeah,"
sighed Jacob, caressing Paul's hair. With a glance at Alison, he bent
down and gave him a slow, significant kiss on the cheek.
Alison said, "When we get him cleaned up, you want to come back to our bed and just lie together, like brother and sister?"
Jacob nodded. Then he smiled and said, "HE's your brother!"
"I know," whined Alison. "It's complicated, isn't it?"
Jacob
came out to everyone, and a source of tension in the community was
relieved. The women felt like they were getting to know the real Jacob
for the first time.
Everyone marveled at the babies' milestones: head control, creeping, crawling...
Just
a week after Alison and Jacob's heart-to-heart in the middle of the
night, Jacob sought her out during the day, reporting that Paul had
stirred as he was getting him erect. He wondered if she he should stop,
and after much talk, he reached the conclusion Alison had -- he really
had to.
Paul was slowly getting better. He was awake a lot more,
and he began to eat solid food. He walked around his room unsteadily
for brief periods. He didn't speak, however, or give any indication he
understood what was being said. It wasn't deafness -- he didn't respond
to obvious attempts at sign-language communication either, and he did
startle in response to loud noises.
Alison stopped visiting him
at night shortly after Jacob did. It just felt like sexual abuse if he
was aware of what was going on but couldn't really consent.
But
by the time her next fertile period came around, her thoughts took a
different direction. She wanted a chance for a baby -- she deserved it!
And while Jacob was willing to give her semen for her to shove up into
herself, they'd been doing that for years without success. What had
worked for the other three was real penis-in-vagina violation. Paul was
vital as a male animal. When in his right mind he had been very
enthusiastic about fucking away like an animal -- Alison felt a little
thrill just remembering. So what if his mind was that of an animal --
why not relate to the part of him that was working?
"Hi, Paul," she said, but he was sleeping.
She
pulled down the sheet and began caressing his penis. It slowly grew.
His eyes opened. He looked at her without comprehension, but he also
smiled. As she rubbed his penis, he smiled more. If she paused, the
smile faded.
"Would you mind, Paul? Would you mind if I stole some of your sperm?"
Getting
no reply, she took off her skirt and panties and straddled him, looking
closely at his reaction. He didn't object, and his eyes focused on her
crotch.
"You used to like shooting sperm into women. Do you still? You mind if I find out?"
She
slowly impaled herself on his erection. He smiled a little more. When
she had him fully inside her she started going up and down. His pelvis
thrust upward a little once, and then again. She adjusted her movements
to his little thrusts. Four thrusts later, he pushed upward a little
more and let out a big "Oooooohhhhh!" of contentment. She trusted that
his body was doing the sperm transfer. She lay forward on him and
looked into his eyes. He had a blank look of contentment but she felt
no human connection.
When she came the next night for her
insemination, he pulled the sheet down himself. He'd never done that
before! As she exposed her lower womanly parts his eyes fixed on them.
His penis grew all by itself.
"Are you getting better?" she asked. "You really want to do this, don't you?"
He said nothing, but shifted around in agitation until she had absorbed his entire cock inside her pussy. Then he calmed down.
This
time his upward thrusts were more deliberate and began sooner. She held
herself up off his body an inch or so to let him do the fucking. His
strokes were weak and small, not even an inch of back and forth. But
after ten of them he moaned his pleasure. Alison smiled as her body
received the gift his body offered.
The next night he got out of bed when he became aware of her presence.
He looked confused, standing there naked with a growing erection.
"Do you want... Do you want to do it the old-fashioned way?" she asked.
As
an experiment, she lay back on the bed, exposed wide for the taking.
His eyes took on a light then, and he moved unsteadily into mounting
position. He began thrusting motions while his penis slid and poked
against her inner left thigh. She reached down with deft fingers and
pointed him at the right place.
The penetration brightened his grin and led to some fast fucking motions. He started panting and stopped.
"Maybe
you're not quite ready for this?" said Alison, but his thrusts resumed
on his initiative, and 30 seconds later he held himself deep and
groaned, then collapsed on her, panting far more than usual. Ordinarily
he'd have been aware of crushing her and moved aside, but not any more.
She struggled her way out from under him and sat on the edge of the
bed. He curled up on his side, panting, lost in his own world.
Paul's
appetite improved, and he began pacing around in his room. He seemed
happy when they took him on brief excursions outside. Physically, he
looked good. He showed no sign of mental improvement, unfortunately. He
gave no indication he understood what was being said to him, and he
didn't maintain eye contact or look at people's faces except in passing.
Tara realized she hadn't been to see Paul in a while. She came in holding Stacy on her left hip.
Paul sat up.
"Hi, Paul. How are you feeling?"
He
ignored her words. His eyes briefly took in Stacy, then looked Tara's
body up and down. His brow furrowed briefly, then he approached the two
of them, and his hands awkwardly reached out to take her sides. A hug!
Was he going to hug her? But the next moment she became aware of
awkward rhythmic thrusting movements against her belly. She could feel
the bulge of his penis through his underpants.
Her feelings were
complicated. It had been an unrealistic hope that he would give her a
real hug, though she was disappointed. But here he at least showed some
interest in life -- and a healthy interest it was too!
"Oh! I guess that's natural, but, ummm. Not now..." She stepped back but he kept his hold on her.
"Not now!" she said more sharply and pulled away. She made a quick exit with Stacy and he didn't follow.
She
reported what had happened. The others who visited got the same
treatment. It seemed that once it occurred to him that women were
things he could mate with, he reacted that way to all of them.
It
became routine. The woman walked in, and even if she was dressed in
baggy unrevealing clothing, he got up and made his crude copulatory
attempts. When they rebuffed him, he seemed troubled and agitated. As
his strength returned, they had to use increasing force to get away
from him.
Heather's visits had been rare, but when she heard
this, she said she was going to keep her distance, thank you very much.
Grace went once, thinking perhaps that at some primal level he would
recognize his mother and not react to her as a potential sexual
partner. But she emerged with moist eyes, as he had given her exactly
the same treatment.
They faced a dilemma. It was hard to care
for Paul if he started trying to screw whoever came to see him. Paul
never reacted to Jacob in a sexual way, so the other man took on more
of the day-to-day care while the others debated what to do.
Alison
pointed out that she was still eager for a baby, so if he could follow
through to an actual sex act, that would be fine with her. Most of the
others reacted with raised eyebrows followed by a shrug, but Heather
went into another tirade. Letting him consummate his animal lust was
abusive to him since he surely was not capable of giving informed
consent. But the real force of her reaction came because Alison was
proposing to just let him rape her... Heather was not pleased.
Alison
reported after her first attempt that he had been willing, had
performed well, and seemed contented afterward. Other women visited
right after he had relieved himself in that way and he made no
attempts. So Alison made a habit of seeing him first thing in the
morning so he could satisfy his urges, and then others could visit.
As his strength improved, they took him on longer walks outside -- right after he had satisfied himself sexually.
One day Tara visited an hour after Alison had drained him -- without Stacy.
She felt wistful and tender that day, so she sat on the bed next to him and gave a sideways hug.
After
a moment he broke the hug but grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back
on the bed. She spoke to him sharply and struggled, but by now he was
strong and not easily deterred. Soon he had her pinned and was making
rapid thrusting motions -- though both of them were dressed. She
considered yelling for help, but thought better of it. He'd get tired
of these fruitless thrusts after a while. But the minutes went on and
he didn't get tired. He furrowed his brow and grunted with what she
took to be frustration.
Her thoughts changed a bit. The rapist
thrusting motions did tug at her private parts through the cloth,
arousing her. He was her husband. He had few desires and this was one
she could help him satisfy. He didn't know any better. And she was
hoping for another baby...
"Oh, all right!" she said. Her
squirming got him to pause momentarily. She tugged her skirt out of the
way, managed to free his penis by pulling his underpants partway down,
held the cloth of her panty crotch to the side, and aimed him.
As
soon as he started penetrating her, his frown turned to smile, his
thrusts grew fast and deep, and within seconds he groaned and gave a
big "Aaaaahhhhhh!" And thus was little Anne conceived.
Half
an hour after Paul had inseminated Alison, she took him for a walk
outside. He stopped and she saw him peering into the distance ahead at
the figure of Molly, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, playing with
Peter.
"Let's walk this way," Alison said, turning him. But he wouldn't take his eyes off Molly, and started walking towards her.
"No, Paul, no, that's not good! Maybe we should get you back inside..."
He started running.
"Molly, watch out!" yelled Alison, trailing him.
Molly saw him coming and ran away, leaving Peter where he was.
But
Paul in his recovered state was faster than Molly, and he soon tackled
her. Alison picked up the crying Peter and turned away so that he
couldn't see.
"No, Paul, no!" said Molly, struggling beneath him.
"Unnnhhh!"
vocalized Paul. By now he was able to free his erection. He made his
quick fucking motions against the crotch of Molly's shorts. Frustrated
at his lack of progress, he dug at Molly's crotch area with his hand.
"Ouch!"
"Maybe just let him do it!" called Alison from a distance.
As
Molly told it later, she decided to take Alison's advice after his
second clawing motion at her crotch. When she held her crotch cloth to
the side and aimed his thrusting penis, it entered her and he gave a
sigh of satisfaction. She didn't have much lubrication and it burned,
but it wasn't too bad.
Having come so soon before, it took Paul
longer than usual. Molly reported the satisfaction on his face as he
fucked away, and it still took only a couple minutes before he sighed
and spurted. He at once rolled off.
They decided it was just too
dangerous to let Paul take walks. Later that afternoon they devised
brackets for a wooden bar outside his door that could be used to lock
Paul in.
But when Paul realized he couldn't get out, he went
crazy, bashing at the door with his shoulder, shouting and screaming.
Eventually he calmed down, and when Jacob let himself in he found the
man in the fetal position, unresponsive. He left the meal he had
brought and made a quick exit. The next morning they heard more banging
and shouting.
Alison reported he performed his morning
copulation with her more roughly than usual the next day. She made her
exit while he was still panting and locked him in once more, but within
minutes he was raging again at his confinement.
After
a week of this regime, Paul was bruised and haggard. He still fucked
Alison, but one day when Jacob lifted the bar for Alison to leave, he
started to follow, and she had to shout to Jacob to quick put the bar
back. It was two hours before Paul nodded off, and Alison by whispered
command to Jacob was able to make her exit.
The young women debated among themselves. When they were all convinced, they called a community meeting.
Tara
addressed the group. "Paul's miserable in there. I say we let him go
free. So far, he's never been a problem as long as he can have sex with
whoever he's focused on. Let's just agree that we won't resist. He'll
give you his load quick, and then he's done."
Heather said, "I
can't believe you're seriously suggesting this. Here we have come to
this island to build a feminist utopia, and you're suggesting we settle
for something way worse than in the outside world. He can demand sex of
anyone, at any time, and if we resist he'll hurt us physically. And
you're just going to take it? At least in the world we came from, they
locked up rapists!"
Molly said, "But there's a big difference.
He can't help it -- he doesn't know any better. Men always could
control themselves, right? And almost always they did?"
"Yes,"
said Heather wearily. "Though plenty made excuses about how their urges
were just so powerful they couldn't stop themselves -- which was
bullshit. Why can't we just keep him locked up?"
"Because he's miserable," said Grace.
"But what if he goes for you? His own mother?"
"I... I'm not looking forward to it. But if the alternative is keeping him locked up, I'm willing to take the risk."
"What if he goes for me?" said Heather. "I just don't do men. I refuse."
Alison
spoke. "You're forgetting something big. You're the one who made him
like he is!" There was a pause in the room as she had said aloud what
everyone knew. "Why should he be miserable for the rest of his life
just so you can make sure he never tries to mate with you?"
"Mating
is not the right word. Mating is done between two willing animals. I am
not willing. And as you know, I had a bad experience in my past."
Alison
said, "You're the one who committed a crime. Assault with a deadly
weapon -- attempted murder. Perhaps we should lock YOU in a cabin all
day."
"That's ridiculous! You all know I didn't mean to..." She
went silent, and for several seconds everyone looked at her. They
obviously weren't going to lock her up, but the point had indisputable
moral force.
"Or you can spend your days up at the cabin on the north point. He won't go looking for you."
"OK,"
she said wearily. "If that's what all the rest of you want, to let him
wander around. But I bet he'll start being violent other ways."
Grace said, "If he does, we'll deal with it then."
"And maybe the north cabin would be a good place for me to move."
Paul
recovered his previous good disposition once he had his freedom. He
refused to wear any clothes on days when the weather was warm -- which
was the vast majority of days. He still didn't understand anything that
was said to him, but the young women noticed that he made a point of
seeking each of them out for sex. After he had mated with Alison a
couple times, he would refuse her advances. He was looking for a
different woman. Molly stayed with Heather in the north cabin when she
got a yeast infection, and when she reappeared, Paul made a beeline for
her and mated with her several times.
Grace made some attempt to
keep her distance, but couldn't be vigilant all the time. Paul found
her and fucked her with the special enthusiasm they had come to expect
he would show on encountering a new woman. He had no more recollection
of Grace as his mother than he did of Alison and Kira as his sisters.
If it was an adult female, he wanted to fuck it. But Grace reported
that she really accepted emotionally that he couldn't help himself. To
Alison she confided with a guilty grin that she enjoyed the physical
act that she hadn't had in so many years.
Paul's nakedness gave
all of the women one advantage. When they saw him looking their way
with a growing erection, they could slide their fingers between their
legs for some quick stimulation, getting some extra lubrication so
Paul's rough phallic intrusion wouldn't chafe and maybe hurt. The young
women reported that just seeing Paul at a distance made their genitals
swell a bit.
After a couple months Paul began taking longer and
longer walks, roaming the island systematically as if it was his
territory -- which it really was, in an important sense. They tried to
distract him from the north end of the island, but it only worked
temporarily. When he approached the north end, Molly ran ahead to warn
her mother, who escaped on the east side as he approached on the west.
But staying out of his sight was hard work, and when he had been on the
loose for three months, he finally caught up with her.
She had
steeled herself for the possibility, and her report was that while
plenty upsetting, it wasn't as traumatic as she had feared. In her
mental preparations her first strategy was to frame it as an internal
exam by the gynecologist -- clinical and impersonal. But Paul's grunts
and thrusts made it clear it was sexual and not at all clinical. So she
tried to think of it as a bee sting or a snake bite -- something meted
out by instinct by a wild beast. That was partly true, but she was also
aware that Paul the beast was trying to plant a baby in her -- to
monopolize her reproductive potential for years to come. In that, she
thought with a smile, he was going to be sadly disappointed.
Having
found her once, he searched for her even harder and tracked her down
wherever she was. Heather decided life was easier if she just got with
the program. If Paul showed up with a bulging erection, she would make
her vagina available. He would occupy it with rude enthusiasm, but for
rarely more than a minute. The fluid he left behind was only natural,
she tried to tell herself. She was then free to go on doing whatever
she had been doing.
Tara sat on the beach, relaxing and watching 6-year-old Stacy making a sand castle.
She
saw Paul walking down the beach. In the early years she might have
tried to quick run into the trees so Stacy couldn't see, but they had
all given that up.
He walked straight towards her, and she could
see his erection rising. She quickly reached between her legs and began
a gentle, quick motion.
Just as he reached her she pulled down her bikini bottom and lay back on the towel. "Hi, Paul," she said wearily.
He said nothing, but quickly got into mounting position.
"Unnnhhh!" he grunted as he drove his penis home.
Tara
could tell from his early thrusts that he was going to fuck her for
several minutes before he came. He had probably screwed two of the
other women within the hour. If she was in the mood, she might have
started rubbing her clitoris with her hand so she'd have an orgasm
before he finished. But she was aware of Stacy watching them from five
yards away.
"What does Paul do that?" she asked.
"Oh,
this is how babies are made, right? You've seen him do that since
before you could remember." Her voice wavered slightly every couple
seconds as Paul's strong thrusts jiggled her whole body.
"How does it make a baby?"
Tara
had answered this question more than once before, but she realized that
children took in these things at different levels over time.
"Paul's
testicles make something called sperm, and when he has his penis deep
inside me like this, the sperm comes out the end of his penis. Then up
inside me it would meet an egg and they'd combine to make a baby that
is part Paul and part me."
"But he does it all the time, and there aren't that many babies."
Tara laughed. "Well, it doesn't always work. He keeps trying it over and over hoping it will work sometimes."
"Do you mind? He never asks."
"Oh,
I usually don't mind. I know it's hard for you to believe, but it feels
kind of good to me. And your daddy means well." She smiled up at him
and stroked his cheek as he pounded away.
This was how sex
education had to work in a society where the sex was done in public.
Paul increased his speed. From long experience, Tara knew his rhythm.
"And he's about to shoot the sperm out soon, any second now.... There!"
"Can you feel it coming out?"
"No, women can't feel it."
Paul's
thrusting slowed and stopped, and he slid out of Tara, his slick and
shrinking organ in full view as he sat on the sand catching his breath.
"Did he start a baby this time?"
"No. Actually, I think he already started one in me a couple months ago. You're going to have another little sister or brother."
Paul's
best efforts had never worked in Alison, who was apparently infertile.
It had worked with the others, though. Tara's missed periods suggested
she was pregnant with her fourth child. Molly had had three, and Kira
two live births and two miscarriages and was expecting again any day.
Heather's
earlier confidence that Paul's reproductive efforts inside her were in
vain was misplaced. Although she and Grace had both started the process
of menopause, they had apparently not finished it. Grace had had one
baby and Heather had gotten pregnant and given birth to another pair of
twins.
"His penis always gets soft and floppy after he's done."
"Yeah, it gets to rest."
"Why does it get stiff?"
"Well,
think about it. He couldn't get it into our bodies if it wasn't stiff."
Right. He couldn't violate and degrade females without an organ that
turned into a weapon. That was the theory. But now she viewed it as a
friendly visitor, brimming with the possibility of new life.
"Does Jacob make sperm too?"
"Yes."
"How come I never see him putting his penis into anyone?"
"That's just the way he is. Some men don't feel like putting sperm into women."
"Why?"
"It's
just the way they are. No explanation." No need to talk about Jacob's
fervent but vain desire for Paul to deliver sperm in his butt hole.
"Is Paul going to stick his penis in my vagina?"
"Oh, no, dear! You're much too young for that."
"But he might some day?"
"You
don't have to worry about that until you're much older. Maybe you won't
want anyone to put sperm in you. Or maybe you'll want Peter to do it.
Or Zach."
"Ewwww," said Stacy with a frown.
"Like I said, you don't have to worry about it for a long time."
So
far, that had been right. Paul had shown no interest in any of the
little boys and girls, and Stacy had just turned six. Tara felt once
more an uneasiness when she thought about her at 10 or 11.
"Peter and Zach are babies. I'd want Paul to put sperm in me. He's nice."
Tara
then realized that her fears about Stacy at the age of 11 or 12 had a
different dimension. If all the women you knew spread their legs for
Paul in public whenever he wanted to fuck them, then you'd think that
was part of being a woman. Every girl wants to be a woman some day.
And
what about the boys, who had Paul as their role model? Would they think
they were entitled to fuck any woman whenever they felt like it?
Hopefully Paul's mental limitations would make it clear that he was a
special case. In the next generation they would go back to monogamous
sex, in private, and only with the consent of both parties. They kept
reassuring themselves and especially Heather that that was how it would
go.
Paul got up and walked into the water for a swim. And as
Tara thought about it, she realized she had enjoyed his visit. She
hadn't been asked and she didn't have any choice. She had been nowhere
near an orgasm, and he viewed her as a hunk of female flesh -- a cum
dump. Still, it felt nice to feel his big cock invade her, and the
sensations as it thrust in and out were pleasing in a sexual way. She
liked feeling his compelling masculine presence, his desire for her,
and his vacant grin of satisfaction. Her body satisfied him, bringing
him relief and pleasure.
At
first it had been a slow realization. The old Paul was a dimly emerging
spectator to the new Paul's life. Lots of sitting around in the sun and
eating. Lots of walking around the island, looking for something new.
And lots of sex. Mount willing women, thrust, and ejaculate. The old
Paul enjoyed the orgasms too. There was some fun with babies. The new
Paul could sort of relate to babies in a way he couldn't with any of
the adults, since he was on their level mentally. Mothers closely
supervised the new Paul playing with them.
Memories of old
Paul's life came back to him. He now recognized Grace as his mother and
Alison and Kira as his sisters. He had no idea what their names were,
as he had no language ability. He heard funny patterns of sound coming
from all of the women and even the older babies. He knew it had
something to do with getting ideas across, but it made no sense to him
any more.
But he needed no words to remember his shame as a boy
at being a boy, of how inferior he felt. He remembered now his desire
as it emerged at puberty. It was a desire to fuck the girls, and he
remembered the guilt that was so strong he'd convinced himself he had
no interest in fucking girls at all. So every time the new Paul fucked
one of the women and scored, he rooted him on. Payback, and affirmation
of Paul's fundamental nature as a creature who fucked females. It made
that childhood guilt and repression a little less -- but it never made
it go away.
As time went by, old Paul realized he could take
control sometimes. When new Paul didn't feel like doing anything in
particular, old Paul could walk their shared body down to the beach to
look at waves, and fish, and bugs in the sand. He could look at the
moon and realize that it went around the earth, the earth was round,
and the two of them went around the sun. A long time ago some men had
landed on the moon and walked around there. He really knew quite a bit.
He
also knew that all of these little babies were his children. He could
understand what they wanted and were trying to do as they got to be
toddlers, while the new Paul really couldn't.
Once he had been
watching Tara, remembering the time when they were married. Just then
Tara had smiled at him, and he had smiled back. She suddenly got very
excited and made lots of those sounds, bringing other women to see if
he would smile at them too. He still didn't understand what they were
getting at and decided it wasn't worth it. Better not to smile. He
smiled at the children sometimes and they smiled back -- his children.
That was rewarding, and that was all there was to it.
New Paul's
desire to fuck the two old women wasn't so strong anyway, and old Paul
exerted his will to stop that entirely. One of them was his mother, and
the other one really, really didn't like to get fucked. He could sense
it in a way that new Paul couldn't. Her face went blank and scared.
Paul
had mounted Tara, about to insert his penis. Both Pauls were
anticipating the coming pleasure a lot. Tara smiled at him. New Paul
was concentrated on penetrating Tara but had no opinion what his face
did, so without thinking the old Paul used it to make eye contact and a
little smile. Tara reacted with a frown and started wriggling. Old Paul
regretted his unintended smile and stopped at once. But he understood
that it had somehow upset Tara and she wanted him to stop and not
penetrate her right then, and that he really ought to stop because she
wanted him to. But new Paul didn't know and most of all didn't care.
New Paul wanted to enter and thrust. To thrust and thrust and thrust
amid growing pleasure until he spurted his goo inside of Tara's vagina.
Old Paul decided to just be quiet and go with the flow of the new
Paul's desire. It was better this way. He'd just have to remember to
smile less.