Aberrant Futures: Chapter 3
My friends and I spent our last day as free women sunbathing at my house. We lay on towels and lawn chairs trying not to touch the hot wood of the deck. The pool glittered blue in the middle of my big green backyard.
No one except Sam and his weird friends were home. They pretended they weren’t staring at our nearly naked bodies from the game room, and we pretended not to notice them.
Abby joked she was going to text the senior lacrosse team the location of the activation clinic. “Can you imagine,” she said enjoying the scandal of the suggestion, “all those cocks at once?” We had giggled. By the next evening, that felt like a lifetime ago.
The following morning in a wood paneled courtroom, a stern judge locked shut our collars, gave us two hours to activate, and advised us of our rights (a short list), and the legal rights of captors (long). Ten hours later, I realized that all my training, counseling, and education had failed to prepare me for the transformation into a random man’s sexual plaything. In my case, a boy’s—my brother Sam’s.
After Sam checked me, I recognized the stages of autonomy-loss from my psychology course. Denial, frustration, and resistance. Waiting for him that evening in tiny string bikini underwear, I felt the next stage, resignation. Supposedly, understanding came last.
Sam closed the door behind him softly. In the quiet night of the forest cabin, I heard Sam undo his belt, jeans, and take off his t shirt. The mattress dipped next to me where he propped up on his elbow. I lay on my side facing away.
“Chelsea?” He whispered. I felt his breath on the back of my neck, but pretended I was asleep. He put his hand on my shoulder and pulled gently but firmly until I was laying on my back.
When he began to pull the sheet down, exposing more of my bare chest, I gripped the edges with my hands to stop it. My pulse raced as adrenaline prepared my body for a struggle I knew it would lose to the collar. He paused for a moment to play with his controller and I felt felt my muscles go limp. I tried to open my eyes, but couldn’t, and began to panic.
“What did you do?!” I whispered.
“It’s ok Chels, I’m running a program to keep your body relaxed. You can whisper, but I didn’t want to keep mom up with an argument.”
“Keep mom up” bounced around in my head and for the first time that day, some of my theoretical knowledge hit home. Understanding the legal and biological basis of the Law of the Collar means I wouldn’t fight the system, just like mom wouldn’t even for me. But I also couldn’t choose to give up my autonomy, society had to steal it from me every time. Understanding the limit of my rebelliousness made the entire experience less unbearable. Not bearable, just less. The sensation of of the sheet slipping to reveal my bare chest dimmed my feeling of enlightenment a little.
“Sam,” I said, “it’s ok, I wont cause a fuss.
He was quiet for a long time. “Wow, sis. This is a really big step.” If I could have moved, I would have ruffled his hair. He kept talking, “But actually this program is really hot. Basically your brain stops telling your skeletal muscles what to do unless I tell you to do something. You want to see?” He was talking about my body like it was an exciting new science toy.
“Uh,” I said.
“Chels, be a good girl and pull the sheet off your chest.”
The novelty of recognizing my place in society faded and I felt my ears burn in the dark when my bare nipples felt cool air.
“Wow!” Sam said.
“Good girl? Really?” I said with fake indignation trying not to feel helpless and exposed.
“It was part of the standard coding” he said cupping my boobs gently and squeezing them. He traced their contours with the tips of his fingers, which tickled and I giggled. He jiggled them, kneaded them like dough, pitched them until I gasped, and a thousand other variations. Then he kissed them, licked them, and sucked. The entire time he narrated to me how beautiful I was, how I tasted salty, how soft my hair was. He didn’t stop at my breast, he made me expose new territory every time he finished mapping the old. I guessed he had imagined exploring my body for a while.
By the time he reached the edge of my panties, I worried that he would find out the effect he was having underneath them and what he would do to me then.
Trying to distract him I said, “you missed a spot” and in the moonlight I could see him grin.
“Oh” he said?
I opened my mouth wide, it was the only part of my body I could control. He became very serious and very interested, and I wondered if I’d made a mistake.
He put his forefinger and index finger inside. I closed my lips around them and sucked, messaging them with my tongue. He responded by straddling my chest. Looking up, I realized I had made a mistake.
“Sam,” I said, awkwardly because his fingers were in my mouth, “Your penis is huge.”
“Uh” he said, taking back his hand, and I thought he sounded embarrassed. “I’m going to put it in your mouth, ok?”
“No it’s not, but I can’t stop you,” I said.
He put the tip to my lips and I closed my mouth against them firmly.
“Be a good girl and suck on my dick,” he said and I couldn’t help spreading my lips for him.
The tip of his penis was slick with salty goo that stuck to my lips and inside of my cheeks. I had to open my jaw as wide as I could for him to push in a couple inches, and worried I was too small to make him cum. But after a few short thrusts, I felt his hot sticky mess fill my mouth. I didn’t want it spilling out on my face and the bed, so I swallowed as quickly as I could. I was still swallowing when he rolled off me and began to close his eyes.
“The program!” I said panicking, except my mouth was still full and I couldn’t say the “P”. A little cum dribbled out.
Sam mumbled sleepily, “Sorry”, did a wrist wiggle, and I was able to control my muscles again. A rinse and toothbrush later, I was back in bed and dozing—it was already early morning. Sam rolled over to spoon me and his hand cupped my breast. I pushed his hand off but decided otherwise I was ok with my little brother cuddling me.