He lays me down on the couch, lets the softness claim me and envelop me as he begins to plunge and pound inside me with faster, more dominant strokes. We are still clad in most of our clothing, but that does not matter. His big hand yanks at the shirt I am wearing, pushes it up, exposes my breasts to his gaze and then to his grip. I am so soft, and he is so hard.
I am writhing, squealing, panting. I forget myself. I lose the ability to tell where I end and he begins. I am freed from this prison, from the tight little space I have inhabited since before I was born. Tom’s thrusting cock turns my body into a conductor for a kind of joy which goes so deep inside me it reminds me that I do have a soul of some kind buried under all the cruel programming which makes me cold.
I am crying. Hot tears roll down my cheeks as we cross an unseen barrier, something which was holding me from humanity. He kisses the tears, but does not stop thrusting. He knows I need him. This connection is essential for my redemption. It is the only thing we have, the only truth in this world of lies.
But it has to come to an end. We cannot ride this crest of pleasure forever. It rises between us in the fast slapping of flesh, in the wet pounding of cock in cunt. It takes hold of us and draws us up ever so close to the barrier between life and death and after that moment of perfect endlessness… it lets us fall.
“No,” I moan softly in the aftermath of orgasm, the cold lies of the world rushing back in on all sides. I burrow into him, try to keep them away, but I know I cannot hide forever. Tom holds me and he kisses me. His seed is cooling on my belly, separating from the thick goo state in which it hit me, and becoming more translucent, running over the curve of my flesh.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?”
I look into his face. “No. I won’t be okay until we’re out of here. I need to be free.”
“I know,” he says, running his palm over my hair. “I know, and I’m going to make it happen. I promise.”
Tom
We should not have done that. I should not have done that. It was defiance of a direct order and it will no doubt earn the Head’s ire. I try not to let on to Electra that I am worried. Sex is so much more than sex to her. It is to me too, but I sense that for her, it is a lifeline, a connection to the reality of her humanity. She is never so soft and so comfortable as she is in the post-orgasmic haze. Twice now, I have seen her truly happy. She is relaxed. I don’t see the hardness in her eyes, the invisible armor she keeps around herself most of the time.
But we don’t hear from her. There are no summonses to her office. I wonder if we got lucky, if nobody happened to be watching that time. It was only a few minutes. Maybe we were in a dead zone. I can come up with dozens of thoughts as to why and how we got away with that, but in the end, I know the truth is that we could do that because she allowed it. The Head still rules us, and that has to change.
Graduation
Tom
“You’ve done very well,” the Head smiles. “Truly an exceptional job.”
It has been three months of captivity, and this is the third visit the Head has made to us in the place which has become home. Electra has changed a lot in these twelve weeks. In the beginning, she was unable to function in a domestic context. Now she can cook, occasionally clean, when she’s prompted, though she’s still paranoid about the ‘watching’ machine. She has even managed to master the art of dining without resembling a small animal. This very moment she’s sitting at the dinner table and has managed to eat an entire meal in a proper way, without using her steak knife to stab at what’s on her plate, or the Head.
“I think you’ve earned something special,” the Head says with a smile which barely reaches her mouth, let alone her eyes. She is a void of emotion, this woman. I don’t trust her. I think she knows that Electra and I have been making love, forming a bond which goes far beyond the original scope of our relationship, and I suspect she will try to use that to her advantage.
We have been isolated all this time. I have not spoken to my brother at all. I wonder what she has told him, if he even knows where I am.