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homynym · 8 years ago

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Looking Forward

I finally spent some time in virtual space this weekend. It is pretty fun. There is an entire Milky Way Galaxy, at scale, to explore. You can trade goods, fight pirates, be a pirate, or just see the sights. The operation of the ship itself is the most complex, and thus rewarding of any space sim I have ever played. I diligently played through the tutorials Friday night. I customized my fight stick and throttle to a superior layout on Saturday. And by Saturday night, I started playing the main game - the entire galaxy at my fingertips. I found that by today, though, I was becoming bored.

It took some thought to understand why the hell I was bored with this - this thing represents the fulfillment of everything I loved as a kid. I spent all of my recess days on a swing, preparing to be an astronaut. I read every space book I could find in that elementary library. 7th grade career day - you know the day that your classmates discuss their expected future careers in dolphin training - forced me to really think about what I wanted to do. My answer: Chief Engineer at NASA. Hell, I even made it to Space Camp at some point in my childhood.

Seriously, an open-ended space simulation in virtual fucking reality? Oh yeah, don’t forget the military-grade A10C replica fight controller setup to boot. Are you telling me I woke up this morning as a 30 year old, who is established enough now that he can frivolously afford to bankroll the epitome of his childhood daydreams? Fuck - let’s do this. And I did do this.

I was busy dropping off some cargo at Flint Station in LHS 3447, which by the way, is a binary star system, so plan your route with care. As I was coming in for a landing I heard the familiar sound of the collision sensor beeping away. This I expected. I also heard the familiar sound of Jasmine whining. I didn’t expect that though. “One second hunny, Daddy needs to land”, I explained. “The fine for a mis-landing is not something I want to deal with right now.” She whined again more emphatically. “Hold on!”, I shot back. I got the Sidewinder MkI situated on the pad, engines down, and pulled off the VR headset.

Jasmine was sitting on the floor beside me, with her beautiful puppy eyes staring up at me. “Wow, she is such a gorgeous thing”, I thought. I knew her look well - she is bored and wants to play. “Ok hunny, let’s go play!” She jumped with excitement. What followed was typical. Tug of war, wrestling, running around the house. After several minutes of constant action she paused and sat down. I saw her eyes again, and all at once I was struck.

In a moment I thought about the week I just had. I thought about dog parks, I thought about sunshine, I though about springtime, but most vivid of all, I thought of you. It happened in a flash, so lucid though, I could smell you. Your beautiful hair, your incredible smile, your adorable petite frame, your engaging, bright, shining, beautiful freaking eyes. Your wit, your energy, your presence, your being. Now fully lost, I kept dreaming. I wonder what she looks like in heels and a dress. I bet it would be so fun to take her out clubbing, focused on her, crescendoing the romantic energy throughout the night. Oh, what about kayaking - that sounds good. Maybe part of a Pacific North-West expedition? Yeah, expeditions sound great. So does sitting at the kitchen table with a bottle of wine. Ooo, and role play? I bet a lot could be done there.

I also think I am actually down for cooking cla- Jasmine whined again, apparently bothered by her catatonic father. I took a deep breath, returning myself to earth, and her. “Sweetie, what do you want.” Her eyes kept staring at me. I started laughing, in a deep, satisfied way. A complete way. “Something incredible has happened Jasmine, something really, truly wonderful has happened here.” Intense, childlike joy completely filled me.

I looked over at the computer, still running. On the desk sat the flight controller and VR headset. I caught a glimpse of the world-of-my-childhood-dreams peering through the headset lenses. It seemed so inadequate. Pixelated, faux-space, without any meaning. I didn’t want to be doing that. I wanted to be on a walk with you. I wanted to being talking with you, about anything. I wanted to be seeing you, smelling you. I wanted to be holding you. I wanted to be loving you.

I want to spend my time with you. And spend is such an inadequate word. I mean to say I want to joyfully, generously, freely, fully use the time I have been given here and now with you. That is what I want to do. Of course I don’t know what the future holds. I really don’t have expectations here. What is going to happen is what is going to happen. As for us, we are going be whatever we were meant to be. I have just never been this excited about life. I have never looked forward and felt so much joy. And for now, by far, that is enough.

There is something that, in due time, I will whisper in your ear. For now though, I am simply going to be joyful in looking forward.

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homynym · 8 years ago

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House Rules

The trouble started, as you reminded me later, because I hadn’t listened.

“Next time all you have to do is listen to what I say, okay sweetheart?” We were back in bed, the dogs at our feet already asleep. “I don’t want to have to get upset like that again.”

I nodded as you kissed my forehead; ironically, though, I wasn’t really listening anymore. Instead I was already halfway to meeting the dogs in dreamland, wiped out by the whole episode.

The thing is, I’d been sure I could get away with it. The offending deed had taken place – see how even now I’m already distancing myself from it, passive-voicing and all that – earlier that day while you were at work. I was working, too, but as you already know, for me that means a day at home, most of it at my desk trying to wrangle words down onto the page or screen, as the case may be.

Partway through the afternoon I realized there was a book I needed for reference, and I went out to the living room to look for it, the dogs mistakenly taking this as a sign that it was time to go out again. All of us were disappointed, though, because I couldn’t find what I needed anywhere on the shelves, and they had to settle back down on the couch.

It occurred to me that there was one other place I might find what I was looking for; there were still a few boxes in the attic that had never been unpacked, and I was pretty sure that some of the older paperbacks I rarely used were among their contents.

Going up to the attic on my own, though, was absolutely forbidden. Nope, nein, don’t even think about it, no way Jose. It was one of the few rules you’d set when we moved in.

“I don’t want you opening that by yourself,” you’d said, pointing at the ceiling door that led to the crawlspace just below the roof. It was one of those trapdoors that swung down; only the mechanism was finicky, and there were a few times when it had opened dangerously fast, ready to knock out the unlucky person in its path. You’d almost been its victim once before, in fact, which was when you’d warned me from going anywhere near it.

As you also know, though, I can be very impatient, particularly where my writing’s concerned. I didn’t feel like waiting until the end of the day to get what I wanted. Plus it was raining out, which meant a drive to the library would be more of a pain than a fun outing.

For the record, I do want to say that I was very careful, dragging the ladder out of the hallway closet, climbing up slowly and leaning to the side as I unhinged the door, just in case it wanted to do its surprise fast swing. And as I’d hoped, the book I wanted was right at the top of the first box, which I could reach from the ladder; I hadn’t even needed to hoist myself up into the space. Feeling quite pleased with the whole operation, I put everything back exactly the way I’d found it. Or so I thought.

After you got home we were having a nice, quiet night with everyone in bed, the dogs in happy, post-dinner comas as we watched an unexpectedly funny documentary about satellites. Who knew Canada’s largest observatory was dubbed the Humble telescope?

In any case, you got up to go to the bathroom and I paused the video so that you wouldn’t miss anything. I’d just picked up my phone to check email when you came back.

“What is this?” You were standing at the end of the bed, holding up something that I didn’t recognize. I didn’t recognize the look on your face, either, the intensity of your expression unlike anything I’d ever seen before. Even the dogs raised their heads, alert to the sharpness of your tone.

“I asked you a question,” you continued when I didn’t say anything, coming around to my side of the bed. “What the hell is this?” Still holding out the object that I could see, once you were a few feet away, was a small piece of insulation. You paused for a minute as though considering your words very carefully, then said, “is this from the fucking attic?”

Frozen on the screen behind you I could see the Astra2F, a GEO sat that had been sent up back in 2012 by the Luxembourg-based cable operator SES. Without question I would rather, in that moment, have been 36,000 kilometers away in lonely, dark orbit around the earth, sending shitty HD commercials to overworked financial analysts in the EU, than have you look at me the way you were.

“Oh I forgot, I needed a book earlier today,” I said, trying to sound casual. “I didn’t want to bother you for it so I just popped up there for a second.” Redirecting my attention to the phone so that I didn’t have to see what I now understood was unmitigated anger in your eyes. “It really wasn’t a big deal.” I knew you were still staring at me but you didn’t say anything else; the silence, I was acutely aware, so much worse than the interrogation had been.

“Hey,” I said, jumping up, “let me get more popcorn. We’re all out.” I would’ve said anything to get away from your scrutiny, but also it was a convenient excuse; the bowl was actually empty. I went down to the kitchen and made as much noise as possible pulling things out of the cupboard, exaggerating my movements as much to keep myself busy as anything else.

When the microwave went off a few minutes later I took the bag out, pulling it open from opposite corners; I was watching the steam escape in a plume when I realized how quiet it was. Usually the dogs followed us down to the kitchen, loitering adorably and looking up at us with hopeful eyes, waiting for a scrap of anything, but right now no one was at my feet. I heard a door close upstairs followed by whimpering; you’d shut them in the bedroom. A few moments later I heard you come into the kitchen and walk up behind me. I set the bag down, ready to apologize for being so heedless, but didn’t get very far.

“I’m really sorry,” I started, but before I could say anything else you were whipping me around and pushing me up hard against the fridge, your hand at my neck. I felt the door, cold against my shoulder blades, and it was instantly clear to me that this wasn’t a play choke, something we both enjoyed when the mood was right; the way you were holding me now was far tighter. What scared me the most, though, were your eyes. They were looking at me and also not; seeing me, but at the same time unfocused. When you spoke again your voice was low.

“I don’t have a lot of rules,” you said slowly, closing your hand around my throat, “and the ones that I do have are there for a reason.” You were starting to cut off my breath and I felt myself get panicky. “I told you not to go up to the attic because I didn’t want anything bad to happen to you. Do you understand?”

I tried to nod but couldn’t move my chin. You loosened your grip a little, to let me go I thought, but instead you put your other hand on top of my head.

“See I don’t think you do,” you said, pushing me firmly down toward the ground so that I was crouching, my back still up against the fridge. “Because if you really did,” the hand that had been at my throat now unbuttoning your jeans, pulling down the zipper, “you would’ve done what you were told. And girls who don’t do what they’re told get lessons. Open.” I dropped my jaw in a gesture so Pavlovian that at another moment it would have made us both laugh – but this wasn’t that moment.

You were already hard when you pushed into my mouth but once you were inside you got even harder, sliding in and out forcefully, deliberately.

Yet another thing you know about me: my gag reflex is embarrassingly strong. We’d worked on it some, and when you fed yourself to me slowly, encouragingly, telling me how much you liked it when I swallowed you deep – keep breathing, good girl, just like that you feel so amazing – I’d made us both very proud on more than a few occasions. Without your coaxing, though – and right now there were no words, just the grunts you let out as you dug your fingers into my hair, using my mouth insistently – I didn’t stand a chance. I started gagging right away, and soon I was coughing and gasping for air, drool dripping down my chin and onto my chest. My hands reached up to try to hold you at a distance but you grabbed my wrists, pinning them in place above my head as you pumped away.

Still, despite being in a fugue state you must have been aware of my limits, because just as I thought I really couldn’t take any more you were pulling me up and hauling me over to the kitchen table.

“It’s actually…very…simple,” you said, emphasizing each word and matching them to your movements: bending me face down over the table edge, yanking my yoga pants down to my ankles, pushing your legs between mine to spread them apart. “When I tell you to do something, you do it. And when I say not to, you don’t.”

With those last words you pushed yourself inside me, your cock as hard as I’ve ever felt it. You slapped my ass and reached up to grab my hair at the same time, yanking me toward you so that my back arched; I felt prickles of sweat all over my skin. You were thrusting hard and fast now, your breathing ragged. Without realizing it I’d started moving with you, meeting each thrust with my own. I couldn’t tell whether the whimpering I heard was coming from the dogs or me.

Then without warning you pulled out, and I’m very sure I was the one who whimpered then, empty and needy and wanting you back, filling me up again. With a hand at my lower back you pushed me down onto the table. I could feel the head of your cock pressing against my ass.

“You know the last thing I ever want to do is hurt you babygirl, that’s the whole point.” You stopped to spit and I heard you rub your hand along him, adding to the wetness I’d left behind already; then you placed him just inside the tight, small ring of my asshole. “But sometimes the only way to really make a point is with a little pain.”

What came next wasn’t like the gentle easing-in you’d done in the past. You split me open, your cock driving its way into that most private of places in one sudden stroke. I yelped, my legs kicking against yours.

You were relentless now as you pounded into me, making the table shake as I reached blindly around its surface, trying to find anything to hold onto; with you as deep inside me as you could get, I felt impaled to my core. From your breathing I could tell that you were getting close and, without thinking about it consciously, I got on my tiptoes to raise myself higher, pushing my ass up and back, offering myself for you to take.

“Have I made myself clear?” you said, more of a growl than a question, but I answered anyway, the words coming out along with the gasps you were dragging out of me.

“Yes I’m sorry, I was very bad and I promise I won’t ever do it again," I moaned. "I’m sorry Daddy, I’m so sorry.”

I felt you get even just that last little bit harder right before you came and then you started to shudder, shooting into me in spasms that shook us both. My asshole clenching around your cock to extend the sensation of your climax for as long as I could, milking you for every last drop. Once you’d finished filling me to the hilt you finally collapsed forward, your open mouth resting against the back of my neck.

We stayed like that for a minute, both of us waiting for our hearts to stop pounding, trying to catch our breath. I believe it was at that point that the dogs’ symphony reached us both, a duet of howls that, in our slightly unhinged state, made us both start to laugh hysterically.

I was still giggling when you finally pulled out of me and smacked me one more time, hard, on the ass, before turning me around and picking me up to carry me back to the bedroom. Freed from their prison, the dogs leapt up against your legs, excited and confused; you set me down onto the bed before going to take a shower.

When you came back I was still smiling dumbly, all used up and without a care in the world; I didn’t even get up to brush my teeth, collapsing against you and starting to drift off to a happy place. Or as they say about horses, ridden hard and put away wet.

“Oh but there’s one more thing you should know,” you said, your breath warm against my ear as I sank down into the deep. “If there is a next time, sweetheart, I promise I won’t be so nice. Sweet dreams.”

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