by Rizer, Bibi
“I’m more than okay.” So much more than okay that I’ve started to tremble.
It’s partly from cold. They say our island used to be “tropical”, whatever that means, but now the climate consists of sunny fresh days and cold verging on frigid nights. The farms only function with heat coils buried in the soil.
“It’s getting cold,” Tully says. “Let me see if I can fix your jacket.”
He lifts my arms out to my sides and opens the front of my jacket, pulling something from his pocket. As he tucks it into his mouth I see it’s a data stick. He clicks it on and it lights up, providing a little illumination as he unzips the innards of my jacket.
I try to keep still as he digs around in the lining.
“Ay!” he yelps suddenly, withdrawing his hand. “Well, your battery is still good,” He says out the side of his mouth. He digs in again, yanking out a thin cable with a connecter at the end. Oddly, he puts it in his mouth, then removes it, polishing it on his sweater. His hand brushes my breast as he slips the cable back into the lining of the jacket. Seconds later, it begins to heat up, infusing me with welcome warmth.
Tully grins down at me. “Better? It was a dirty connector. The fluff from the lining interferes with the charge.”
“You’re very handy,” I say. “What else can you do with your fingers?”
The expression on his face is worth the courage it took me to say that.
“Fuck,” he says, laughing. “You’re different from what I expected. Cheekier.”
“You bring it out in me.”
As I look up at him, I’m surprised by how much my body and brain are telling me to do things that just won’t work. Undo his belt, tugs his jeans down over his slim hips. And then what? I have a constant mantra repeating in my head. He’s a Cull. He’s a Cull. He’s a Cull. I want him that way, but I don’t want to want him that way. It only makes me sad.
“There’s a cloud,” Tully says, waving his hand over my eyes. “What brought that on?”
I cover it by looking at my wrist monitor. “It’s late. It will be dawn soon. I think I get kicked out, don’t I?”
Tully sighs, sliding his hand down my arm to take my hand. “Yeah. I’ll walk you back to the gate.”
As we walk I think about the dream I had in his machine, how I sucked his imaginary cock, how he fucked me. None of those things can really happen. And yet, feeling his hand in mine, as my body warms from the heat coils he fixed, I find it getting easier to let that dream Tully go and transfer all the feelings I had for him to this one—the real one. Love was always my fantasy, but I wonder if this love isn’t just as imagined as the love I felt in the dream.
As the lights of the Promenade appear though the thick trees lining the path, Tully lifts my hand and presses it to his lips. It’s so sweet and gentle it makes me laugh.
“What’s so funny?” he asks, slipping my hand in his into the warm pocket of my jacket.
“In the dream, for part of it anyway, you were different than this. You were…” I search for the word. I know there is one. “Dominant?”
Tully frowns, pulling me to a stop under a canopy of flickering fairy lights. I can see he’s amused by my confession. “Dominant how?”
I decide to just come out and say it. “You tied me up and spanked me.”
“I did what?!” There is revulsion in his voice. “You mean in one of the nightmares? Not the first dream.”
“You’ve never done that? Lots of women I know say they come here to be tied up and spanked.”
Tully falls silent and begins walking again, pulling me along with him. “I did all kinds of things when I first came here,” he says at last. “I mean I did whatever people asked of me. Whatever I could do. Did you like it? In the dream, I mean. Did you like that part?”
I shrug. The truth is I’m not sure. “I thought it was funny. But then it was scary. But you stopped as soon as I thought it.”
He nods thoughtfully. “But in the nightmares I don’t stop?”
I try to make little of it. “They’re just dreams. Sometimes they’re not even scary. Sometimes they’re just strange.” I force a laugh. “Like in one, we were having sex on the roof of my dorm. Me perched on the edge. Can you imagine? A hundred and four stories high? It seems a little risky. I don’t—”
My eyes fill with tears suddenly. I try to dash them away unnoticed. But nothing escapes Tully. He has made a career of reading people and giving them what they need. He stops and wraps his arms around me.
“I just don’t know why I would dream such things,” I sob into his shoulder. “I’m not scared of you. Why would I be scared of you?”
He just shakes his head, pressing his lips into my hair, his hands making soothing circles on my back.
I gather myself somewhat, wiping my face. I speak into the warmth of his soft sweater. “I come every time.”
A second goes past. A second in which my whole body burns with embarrassment and desire.
“Pardon me?” Tully says at last.
“In the nightmares. Whether you…no matter what you do. No matter how violent or…non-consensual or depraved I always come. I wake up coming.”
He’s silent for a long time. Finally I look up at him to see his eyes are clenched shut, his face stony.
“Say something,” I entreat him.
More time goes past before he speaks. “A lot of Culls hate women. Blame women for everything.”
“That’s understandable.”
“I’m not one of them. I know who the real perpetrators are. All too well.”
I don’t know what he means by this and it doesn’t feel like the right time to ask for clarification.
“I love women,” he says. “I mean, I…always wanted to love a woman. To be loved by a woman.”
“I love you, Tully.”
“Oh. God,” he says, his voice breaking. It’s odd to hear him use this word. People refer to God so infrequently now. No one believes that nonsense anymore. Why would they, after everything that’s happened? Half the planet destroyed by catastrophic climate shifts, the other half plunged into a century of brutal war. And the little pockets of civilization left, falling prey to civil calamities like the Expiation. And the Culls. What sort of God would have that as his plan?
“You don’t really know me,” he says. “But I would never…I have never hurt a woman. When I stole that bracelet that was the first time I’ve ever…victimized a woman. Male citizens, men…I used to steal from them all the time when…” He sighs. “I used to do things with men.” He looks at me then, as though waiting for a reaction.
“So?”
“I did something with a man just the other night because I needed money.” He raises his eyebrows, waiting.
“Am I supposed to be disgusted that you have sex with men for survival? I’m not a total idiot, Tully. I’m a journalist. I know how our society works. Sex is our main form of currency outside the Pleasures too, you know. Women try to fuck their way into the most prestigious harem they can. And in the harems they fuck and suck each other for political gain, for alliances against the other wives. Like monkeys. It’s disgusting. But you have no choice. You’d choose something else if you did, wouldn’t you?”
Standing there, clinging to each other it’s as though we are the only two virtuous people left on earth. On our little corner of the earth anyway. I don’t know what people are like on the mainland. They buy our salacious news for exorbitant amounts of money, but the news we get of them is heavily filtered. Maybe their way of life is even more depraved than ours.
“One man and one woman,” Tully says. “That’s what you want?”
“For me, yes. I don’t care if other people prefer something different. The harems are wrong I think. They’re unhealthy. But women together or men together are fine, I guess for them. I know couples of women who are so happy. They love each other. That’s all I want. Love. Like it used to be.”
It’s my turn to look at him expectantly. But he takes so long t
o reply that I blush with shame again. It’s ridiculous to imagine he loves me. What have I been thinking?
“You need to have a soul to love. I don’t think I have a soul anymore.”
“Why did you steal the bracelet, then?”
He laughs nervously, like a child caught in a lie. “You need a man, O’Mara. I’m not a man.”
“Stop saying that! Tell me why you stole the bracelet. Why would you take such a stupid risk for me if you didn’t feel something?”
“I did feel something,” he says, and it registers with me that he’s trembling as much as I am, even though back here on the promenade is warmer than the path. “I do feel something. I’ve created this kind of idol of you in my mind. I don’t know why, apart from…you’re beautiful and sweet and the way you blush is adorable. And there are so few people left who will even criticize the status quo anymore. The way you talk…only Culls talk like that because we have nothing to lose. Everyone else is too scared to point out how obviously fucked up our society is.”
“Not me. I’d shout it from the mountain tops if we had any. I don’t know how anyone could not see that without love we’re nothing.”
I wait for the words, but they don’t come. Maybe that doesn’t matter.
From the main gate, we hear a bell ring and a distorted voice, announcing that citizens should prepare to vacate the Pleasures for the day. Tully looks at his wrist monitor.
“We have fifteen minutes.” He takes my hand. “Come, I want to show you something.”
He pulls me along the nearly empty promenade – the only other people around are in pairs like us. A man who looks like a servant and a citizen woman. A few of the couples seem to be the reverse. And there is a trickle of male/male couples strolling towards the exit from the Western Villas.
“Who are..?” I begin to ask. But then I realize what Tully wanted me to see.
The couples pause by the gate, holding each other, kissing and caressing, talking in voices too low for me to hear.
“This is what they do,” Tully says in a firm tone. “These are people who tried to love in the old way. One of them loses their citizen status in an effort to keep them apart.”
I know he means this to be a warning, a disincentive to my desire, but it works in the exact opposite way. The collection of couples, each one seeming to float in a private bubble of commitment, of joy. Of love, despite the sacrifices. One or two of the men even look like Culls.
It is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
When I turn to look at Tully I can see that he realizes how he has failed to dissuade me. And rather than be stern or disappointed, his face lights up. He looks around, searching. Another bells chimes at the gate.
“Ten minutes,” Tully says, pulling me by the hand. “Come with me.”
We run together, along the gate to the shops and kiosks along this part of the promenade. Tully searches the windows and doors but they all seem to have closed up for the day. Finally he pulls me into the alcove entryway of a candy store. The smell of spun sugar and lemonade floats around us.
“Wha—” I begin. But Tully pushes me against the glass and kisses me.
It’s nothing like our previous kisses. He’s possessed by a kind of madness, a frenzy, his hands tearing at my clothes. Soon his fingers are caressing my breasts, pushing my bra out of the way so he can knead and pinch my nipples. I would say something, something like fuck, yes but his tongue has captured mine, our lips so firmly connected together that it’s as though we have become one person.
One of his hot hands slips down my stomach under my skirt into my panties. From the corner of my eye I see one of the couples strolling past the candy shop. They turn momentarily, glancing at us with amused expressions before continuing on.
I gasp, whimpering as Tully’s fingers find the wetness and need between my legs.
“Stop?” he says onto my lips.
“NO! Fuck no.”
He begins to move his lips down my body into my cleavage, among the mangled folds of my shirt and bra. His lips close tightly on one nipple, then the next, a maddening distraction from what is happening further down.
Tully has found the button and zip of my skirt and undone them both. My skirt falls to the ground. Out on the promenade another couple wanders past—both men. They laugh as they disappear out of sight. I find myself wishing they would stay and watch. I want the whole world to see this.
Tully kneels at my feet, his fingers sliding my panties down to fall in the pool of my skirt. Then he lifts one of my legs and slings it over his shoulder. His lips press on the mound of my sex as his fingers stroke my pubic hair, parting me.
“Oh, fuck…” I say.
“You smell like mint,” Tully says, drawing his tongue over my clit. My core clenches down as his two fingers breach my opening. In seconds my body is trembling as he presses and thrusts inside me.
His lips close on my clit, suckling as his fingers continue their invasion. He slips another one inside, stretching me as his thumb joins his tongue to torture my throbbing bud.
“Tully…ah Tully, fuck yes…”
I clutch at his hair, pulling it until he whimpers in protest, but if I’m truly hurting him all it does is make him double his efforts. His tongue and lips devour me. His fingers plunder my cunt. His free hand slides up to pinch and caress my nipples.
Outside on the promenade a small crowd has gathered. Some of them are couples but there are also maintenance staff and a few servants wandering out after a long night. I look at them, my eyes unfocussed, wanting to tell them to leave us in peace but unable to form a word. My reason is leaving me.
“Tully…Tully…I’m so close…I’m going to…going to…”
I want to say fall, because it feels like falling and I’m losing my footing, almost as if I’m getting drawn up into space by the pleasure building inside me. And then I break, like a fire starting beneath my feet and shooting upwards. Tully continues for a few seconds as it takes hold but then as I’m in the deep throes of this phenomenal orgasm he quickly flips my leg off his shoulder and stands, kissing me roughly, ravenously, the taste of my cum and mint and his mouth mingling with my cries and moans.
“I love you, O’Mara,” he says on my swollen lips, while I writhe in the continued onslaught of his fingers in my cunt, his thumbs on my clit. “I love you so much it scares me.”
He keeps pumping and massaging until I feel like I might go mad from the waves of ecstasy.
“Stop…” I whimper, though my heart is not in it. I want to linger in this paradise forever. And then it crests again and my whole body tenses and convulses and Tully pulls back maddeningly to watch me as I scream bloody murder, coming completely apart in front of all these people.
Finally his fingers slow, sliding out of my sopping pussy. He lifts them and nudges them into my mouth, a wicked grin on his face. I’m too ruined to protest. I suck him, exhausted, spent, wishing it was his cock in my mouth, wishing I could make him come this way.
Dimly I’m aware that the small group of spectators has applauded politely and dispersed. Tully starts to laugh.
“Is this the life you want?” he asks. I’m not even sure what he means. Getting fingered and sucked to distraction in front of a crowd of onlookers? Living with him on one side of the gate and me on the other? Love? The love he professed at the moment my body gave into his ministrations? I don’t care either way. I want it all.
“Oh my fucking God, yes,” I say.
Another bell rings. Five minutes have passed since he pulled me into the alcove. Five minutes seems too short a time for what he accomplished with his fingers and tongue. But I suppose he’s more practiced than most people in that way. And I’m in love with him. That helped.
“They’ll arrest us both if you stay,” Tully says, bending and holding my panties for me to step into like a child. He pulls up my skirt and carefully zips and buttons and tucks me into a semblance of order. I’m self-conscious about the wet arousal between my legs b
ut I suppose I’ll have time to go home and shower before I need to show up at the News.
Masturbate and shower. I’m sure I’ll need to by the time I get back to the city.
Tully takes my hand and pulls me in the direction of the gate. The guards glare at us both as he kisses me, all too briefly before I scan my wrist pass and step through the archway back into the controlled city. Taking my cue from the other couples, I move over to the high bars of the ornate fence to the side of the gates. As the guards pull the gate shut with a final bell, I reach though the bars. Tully takes my hands.
“They electrify the bars in a few minutes,” he says.
All down the fence couples are caressing through the bars, speaking softly to each other. A few of the women and at least one man I’m almost sure is a Cull, are crying.
“I’ll try to come back tonight,” I say, feeling my own eyes fill with tears. “Sometimes they won’t give passes…especially… well you never know. If I don’t come it’s not because anything has changed.”
Tully smiles at that. “If you can’t find me, ask another Cull. But don’t come back to the Columns. It’s not safe. Send someone for me. There’s a Cull who works in Emerald. His name is Bray. You can trust him, more or less.”
“If I can’t come can I send you a message?”
“I can’t get messages while I’m suspended. Send a message through Bray. Why are you making that face?”
“I’ve met Bray. He gave me a massage.”
Tully narrows his eyes. “Just a massage? Bray is a bit of a deviant. I’m surprised he didn’t offer more.”
That makes me laugh. “He did offer more, but I declined. I don’t need a fine for statutory rape on top of everything else.”
Tully reaches up and strokes my hair. “It not a crime with a Cull,” he says lightly, as though that’s not horrifying in its own way. The youngest Culls would only be fourteen years old. Has it never been a crime? Maybe that boy who I paid to help me find Tully was as young as that. What kind of man or woman would want to use a child that way? A mutilated child?
“On that dark note,” Tully says with a wry smile. “The guards will get nasty any minute now. And sometimes they electrify the fence gradually and sometimes they light it up so fast it knocks you on your ass.” He lets go of my hands and I withdraw them reluctantly.
