But once the sun goes down and the Slasher Hunters arrive, all free time ends. The next chapter is called “Start the Violence”. When the King of Texas comes to spank Cascadia, things will get ugly.
Note: in the first draft, this section was much shorter and consisted only of the Shira/Leila candle scene, now slightly modified. The rest is new to the second edition; it took four days to write for reasons that should be apparent.
← ...from previous
Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 14: When the Cat’s Away
Part 6: Last Chance for Free Play
Part 6: Last Chance for Free Play
4 october 2014.
Saturday. The people who value their lives, and who can afford to flee, have fled. The poor look for any shelter they can find in the hope, possibly hopeless, that they can survive tomorrow. The Conservative Revolutionary faithful swarm into the now silent heart of the central city, from the suburbs and from the far reaches of the Imperial Homeland; they crowd the hotels and camp in office buildings as they wait for the King of Texas and the president of President Goldman Sachs to pour the holy wrath of Jesus America onto the faithless infidels of liberal Cascadia.
But far on the suburban fringes of Metropolitan Seattle, a few stubborn stragglers remain. For these past few days, the Law has been nearly absent. These days have belonged to them. Tomorrow, the Law will come down hard upon the prostrate city. This is their last day of freedom. For tomorrow, they will make plans. Other than that, anything goes.
Red House. That’s what Mobster Mike’s call Ric Thomas’ house. This weekend, Mobster Mike’s are not around to deliver. They fled the city along with everybody else.
In Ric and Hope’s bed, Leila Shelley rolls over, letting the sheet slide off her breasts, to find Shira sitting up, phone in hand, involved in an encrypted private chat with Sparks, the KCUF crew, and the Slasher Hunters. “You’ve got enough time for that, love.”
“I know. This is quick. Once we’re done, it’s all free play till sundown.”
“You know what I’m really scared of?”
“What, darlin’?”
“Hurting somebody who doesn’t deserve it.”
“You know what scares me?”
“I thought you were never scared.”
“Trust me.”
Leila sighs. “Okay. So what scares you?”
Shira’s smile disappears. “Not hurting the ones who deserve it.”
In the guest room bed, Robert Shelley rolls over, struggling out of his sheet to expose his nude body to the air, to find Connor sitting up, phone in hand, involved in a call. “..Mm-hmm... We will... Right! ’Bye.” Connor puts the phone away and strokes Rob’s hair.
“Who was it?”
“My mom. She and Ric are in Port Townsend, Hope’s in San Francisco, Charlie and Desiree are over in Ocean City...”
“...Fiona left with Dad and Mum, and Alex is in the basement summoning the Wrecking Krewe as we speak. You scared your sister will get hurt?”
“She proved back on Blake Island she can take care of herself.”
“I’m scared my sister will find a way to get herself killed.”
“The only thing that scares me is losing you.”
“Seriously?”
“I’ve just found you, and I wanna be with you... I just don’t want anything horrible to happen to you.”
“I don’t think Leila would let anything happen to me. Or you. She believes in us too much. So does Jennifer. We can’t break their hearts.”
Connor sighs. He gently caresses Rob’s lips with his finger. “You have really soft lips. I think they’re beautiful.” Rob smiles and blushes. “And you’ve got a gorgeous smile, too.”
Rob smiles wider and blushes more deeply. He looks a Connor with a mischievous look in his eyes. “I gotta warn you, I’m just as perverted as my sister.”
“Good. Now let me kiss that smile off your face.” He lies down on top of Rob, and they kiss long and hard.
In the master bedroom, Jennifer and Polly enter wearing nothing and bearing breakfast. They sigh in disappointment when they see Shira and Leila sitting on the side of the bed, still nude. Jennifer says, “We were hoping you wanted breakfast in bed, but we were too late.”
“No problem, Jen,” says Shira. “We’re still hungry.” Jennifer and Polly place the trays carefully on Shira and Leila’s laps.
In the guest room, Harumi and her boy cousin Seika look adorably cute in French maid outfits as they bring breakfast to Connor and Rob, who sit naked on the side of the bed. The two lovers look at each other. “Yes, this is a Japanese thing,” says Connor.
“Even the cute boys dress up as French maids?”
“If they’re girlish enough. Sailor suits and magical-girl dresses, too. Cosplay, they call it. The Japanese are weird. That’s why we love ’em so much.”
Harumi and Seika giggle and blush. “We love pretty boys too,” says Harumi, “and you’re the prettiest boys we’ve ever seen.” They leave their breakfast trays on Connor and Rob’s laps.
After breakfast, everybody crowds the bathrooms to brush their teeth. Then the boys shave. The naked girls don’t; they long ago had the hair stripped from their bodies through waxing and electrolysis so they won’t have to.
In the bathtub upstairs, Shira lies back on the bathtub’s incline, and Leila rests atop her so Shira can gently caress her breasts. “So they let you two go?” says Leila softly.
“Mm-hmm. They had nothing on us but a questionable violation of one wayward royal’s sovereign immunity, while we had a ton of evidence against said wayward royal. Frankie baby’s dead meat once his daddy One-Eye finds out.”
“I want to see Debbie kill him,” purrs Leila. “It’ll be a pleasure to see her shoot him into little pieces.”
“I wanna see the lamestream news broadcast that.” chuckles Shira.
“Will you do something special to me?”
Shira flashes a cockeyed smirk. “Hmmm. So what do you want me to do this time?”
Connor and Rob shower together in the stall next to the guest room. Rob says, “I haven’t craved this so much since I was a kid.”
“Really!”
“I never had any problem with it, not one bit. Sure, we reached puberty early. Leila was nine, I was ten, and so was Fiona. Leila was already developed enough to win the Europe-wide nude beauty contest when she was eleven. But this was even before then. Maybe that’s the reason, I guess. My uncle...”
“That gay gangster guy?”
“Yeah. He knew how to worship a pretty boy with his body. He always adored me. There was no way I couldn’t fall in love with him.”
“Well, I waited until after puberty. The bullies had to pick on me, of course, just because Real Men are supposed to be ugly and I’m pretty. So I picked ’em up and body slammed ’em. They left me alone.” They laugh and hold each other tight.
Midday. The recreation room upstairs is like the living room downstairs, only the owners furnished it to entertain themselves rather than guests. This is where Ric keeps his entire videogame console collection, from ancient Ataris to the latest Xboxen. Leila ignores the electronics. She stares out the open picture window and smokes a cigarette. The anti-surveillance cloaking shields the house from Echelon’s constant intrusions, so she stands in the sunlight in full view without worry that a camdrone will catch her nude. Outside, over the bay, she watches a camdrone flit about, harassing any seagull, crow, or eagle unlucky enough to get within its field of view. She takes a deep drag on the cigarette, languidly blows out the smoke, and lets the nicotine high kick in.
“I didn’t know you smoked,” says Jennifer. Leila turns to see her enter the room.
“I’m enjoying one more while I can. After tomorrow, I’m quitting.” She takes another drag.
“You know it’s illegal.”
“Anything remotely fun is anymore, precisely because it’s fun.”
“Is it any fun? If so, it’s a sin.”
“I hate this country.”
“Actually, the government’s so overbearing, it makes you long for anarchy just for relief.” They laugh.
The two young women look at each other. Leila puts the cigarette to her lips and slowly breathes in the intoxicating fumes, then slowly breathes out the smoke. Then she sighs. “Do you realize we’re freaks?”
Jennifer smiles sweetly. “I come from a proudly weird family.”
“That’s not what I mean. What I mean is...” She gazes out the window. “We’re not like other people. But you know that. I mean, it’s not like you think.“
“I like to think we’re more normal than normal people.”
“I learned the hard way that ‘normal’ may not be as good as advertised.“
“So what makes us freaks?”
“For one thing, we love sex. Which is why we’re here. Normal people think it’s so gross, they have to ban it, or at least keep it under harsh control.”
“Or putting it another way, girls are gross and have cooties. Right?”
“Right!” Leila takes a quicker puff and blows the smoke out. “And we like to go naked and show off our bodies to each other, while they get so squicked out by the show of a little skin — I mean just face and hands — that they go homicidal when a pretty girl shows a little leg.”
“I actually find even ugly bodies beautiful.”
Leila smiles. “Yeah.” Her smile suddenly disappears. “And they find even beautiful bodies repulsive. The more beautiful the body, the more repulsive they find it. Yes, I understand why the Slashers do what they do, and why there’s so many of ’em here.”
“They also think intelligence is evil and dumbth is virtue. You and I are very smart women.”
“Which makes us double trouble.”
“Triple. We’re women, remember?”
“Yeah. Cooties.” They laugh.
“You know what the problem is?”
“What?”
“Religion.”
“But of course.”
“Specifically, they believe in ghosts. They believe their ghosts are the true selves that get sentenced to imprisonment in these monstrous piles of glorified slime that subject them to the hideous horrors of disease, old age, death, heartbreak, and especially sex. What rational people call life, they call undeath. The only difference they see between the living and the undead is that human bodies have ghosts and zombies don’t. It doesn’t matter to them if the body is a machine, a corporation, a data pattern, or a beautiful hairless monkey, only that the ghost is real and the body is not. ‘The body,’ as Socrates quoted Orpheus, ‘is the tomb of the soul.’”
“I always wanted to believe I had an immortal soul, or something like that, but I knew from an early age it was bullshit.”
Jennifer raises her finger. “Neuroscience has even proved there’s a one-to-one correspondence between brain states and mental activity, so it’s not the ghost doing the thinking. It’s the dialectic of structure and function: body is the structure, soul the function. Body, yes, even soul, but no ghost. Bullshit it is.” They laugh again.
Leila holds Jennifer close and rests her head on her shoulder. “You know, I was two when I realized that eventually I’m going to die and become nothing. So I always thought that if I’m going to die, then there’s no use living.” She takes one last drag from her dying cigarette.
“When I was two and found that out, I realized that if I’m going to die, there’s no use not living.”
Leila looks at her, stunned. She stares at the tall blond girl’s smiling face. Shock turns to realization as Jennifer’s words sink in. “You’re right! I never thought of it that way.” She kisses her in gratitude.
Jennifer backs away and takes her by the hand. “C’mon, let’s go join the others for lunch. We’ve still got time before we go back to hunting ghosts.”
Leila smiles. She snuffs out the exhausted cigarette in the soil of a hanging plant’s pot, tosses the butt into the nearest wastebasket, and puts her arm around Jennifer. They skip away together.
In the living room they find the others happily eating strawberries, snap peas, and ham and cheese sandwiches on rye. Harumi says through her sandwich, “I was wondering, how come you guys are always going around naked even when you’re not having sex?”
“Think of it this way, Haru-chan,” Shira answers. “Naked women live twenty years longer.”
“It’s true,” adds Jennifer. “Scientific studies prove it.” Both cousins wink. Harumi swallows to keep herself from choking, then lets herself laugh.
In the master bedroom, Leila lies on the bed trembling with anticipation as Shira holds a candle above her breast. She gently strokes the hard sensitive nipple. Leila moans softly. [old] Hot molten wax drips from a candle onto Leila’s hard sensitive nipple. She shrieks in pain, then moans in pleasure. “Oh my god, I love this. Thank you.”
“God, this turns me on.” Shira kisses Leila on the lips, then her nether lips, then holds the candle over her other nipple so it can drop another bit of molten wax onto it. Leila cries out and flinches, then melts and moans.
After several minutes of exquisitely painful pleasure, Shira peels the wax off Leila’s erect nipples, kisses them profusely, bites them gently and then hard to send her into yet another screaming orgasm. She blows out the used-up candle, replaces it on the holder with a fresh one, lights it, and holds it in her right hand while caressing Leila’s soft wet cunt with her left. In overwhelming excitement and hope, trembling Leila coos breathlessly, “Are you doing it” Will you do it?”
Shira gently opens Leila’s nether lips wide, holds the candle over her moist trembling cunt, and lets the hot wax drip onto her labia. Leila screams and moans and shudders as the molten wax drips and drips onto the soft flesh of her open labia, and then the even more sensitive inside of her cunt where it mixes with the sweet sticky fluid flowing out her vagina. Shira lies on top of her lover to keep her from shaking too much, kisses her sweet cunt long and passionately, drinks the erotic nectar, and opens the beautiful flowery cunt once again. She holds the candle close enough for Leila to feel its heat, and drips wax directly onto her hardened clitoris. Molten liquid drips onto the hypersensitive organ, making Leila scream and shake in a series of shattering orgasms that last for over two hours, until the candle is gone.
In the guest room, Connor caresses Rob’s trembling buttocks. “I want it much harder this time,” says Rob. “Do me as hard as you can.”
“I’ll try. No guarantees.” He kisses each butt cheek, then opens them up to expose Rob’s anus. He nibbles and licks it, making Rob quiver and moan; then he sticks his tongue in as far as he can and licks him inside. Eventually he slips his cock inside him; he drives it in and out, Rob catches and releases it; losing all track of time, they share an increasingly intense ecstasy till they merge and finally collapse...
As the sun goes down, in the bedroom where Shira and her lost twin Kira once slept together, Jennifer and Polly lie next to each other, exhausted and drenched in sweat. First Shira and Leila, then Connor and Rob, enter the room equally exhausted and throw themselves on the bed beside them. “How was it?” asks Jennifer.
“I need some chocolate cake and a smoke,” Leila sighs.
“You need to hurt her just right,” says Shira. “She loves candles.”
“I didn’t know he could go one hour straight,” Rob moans.
Connor smiles at his sister. “I bet your [thing] was more mundane than ours.”
“She used her fist,” says Polly, stunned.
The other couples look at Polly in surprise. “She did what” says Connor.
“I mean, she stuck her fist up there. It was too much. I think I died happy.”
The others stare open-mouthed at Jennifer. She smiles sweetly and blushes.
Six young lovers lie together on the bed in Kira’s room: Shira, Leila, Jennifer, Polly, Connor, Rob. For an endless moment they say nothing, simply enjoying each other’s presence. Then Shira’s phone rings. She takes it off the nightstand. “Hello?... Yeah... Okay. ’Bye.” She puts the phone back.
“Is it them?” asks Rob.
“Yeah. Free time’s now officially over. We better clean up quick, ’cuz they’re here.”
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