Dystopia Now Ep. 01

"Sorry," he whispered breathlessly, as if he'd run a marathon. "I'm gonna cum..."

"Oh fuck, come to momma," was about all I could mutter with the stab of that red-hot poker. "Blow that wad, baby, you're fucking me good, sweetie. That's it, steady now, fuck me, sweetie," I moaned seconds longer. "Right there, damnit, oh god, I'm cumming too, what the hell, oh fuck I've lost count." My arms held him tightly.

"Ahhhhhh, oh damn," he blurted and blew up inside me.

"Shhhhhh, that's it, honey, shoot that stuff in me," I heaved with a huge satisfied gasp. "Oh fuck, that's a load, you are...damn...filling that pussy with cum, do it, sweetie," I said and patted his back while he lurched, arched his back and tightened the cheeks of his ass. "There you go, go with it, honey. Yum, it nice and hot, making me drip."

He continued pumping and deflating at the same time. The whole sequence was a matter of seconds, maybe moments that seemed endless, as my mind was temporarily blank with a cascade of white blurry flashes. No thoughts said anything in response, just the flooding heated wetness of pulsating juices. He blew his load with urgency, as though every moment of his life led to this point in time.

Nothing mattered anywhere for anything except this brief sexual interlude. Life came and went in spurts of orgasmic twitches, some good and some not so good. But this kid was good on his first real life fuck. That dick of his had great potential, as he shot load after load. There was plenty of cum hosing down the inside of my pussy. And oh my goodness, the vibrations in there were blissful.

The whole fucking sensation, the sweating ecstasy and pulsing penis to vagina jerks were wonderful. My mind remained momentarily hazy from the blunt amative sensations that climaxed in the flood that dripped down my ass. In the seconds that followed, that well-screwed feeling came over me. I didn't feel tense for the time being, while we hugged tightly in the earthen dugout. He held me close to his chest in the smooth slickness of our sweat. I could feel my large swollen nipples press against his skin.

As his dick remained inside me, slowly softening, my mind wandered in the onset of an awakened illumination. The afterglow was the essential primal essence of life, with the energized pump of gushing cascades. All of existence comes down to necessity of a good well-fucked hump no matter where you find it. Nowadays, you get dicked, or you dick someone in the precious moments you can find. A good mind fuck is one thing.

However, a good mind and body fuck is quite another thing. It's a glimpse and a reward toward self-evolution that culminates in liberated differentiation. In that precious act of getting your brains banged out by a good hump, you come alive in the aura of being you. Walls come down when you cum, defenses retract as you explode into the bottomless pit of pure pleasure. Whether by a man or a woman, or a young one like him, becoming a man, the fulfillment of being alive and energizing the entire brain is simply the ultimate experience. Nothing else matters in the release of each breath.

"I want to suck on you," he said affectionately without any hint of embarrassment or remorse. His lips slid down my neck to my chest, he licked my damp skin and found my nipple. Gently, his mouth encircled my breast and he sucked. "Thank you..."

"That's it, baby, suck me, lick me, it's all good," I encouraged him.

In the past several minutes, we had died and come back from the dead. Living and breathing came down to this moment. Neither the gluttonous materiality, nor the greed of wealth and power of our former society was worth anything compared to this brief interlude. Empires had collapsed under the bloated weight of selfish depravations and debasing oppressions. Yet, two humans cumming as one was more important.

"You feel amazing," he muttered and moved his hips slightly, still wanting our time to last a little longer. "All over, you feel so good, I want it to last."

"You feel good too, honey, we'll do this again. Don't worry," I said to him.

"Do we have time for more?" He asked anxiously.

I didn't answer and let him rest on to of me. His hands explored with soft tender brushes, and I could feel his dick still slightly thick move near the edges of my pussy lips. My vagina was soaked, drenched, pried open and flooding. I could barely keep from panting at the sensations. Staying focused on our surroundings, the situation and thinking about his dick was challenging to every one of my senses. My protégé had spread me wide and it felt wonderful. I wanted to keep fucking.

Seconds went by in that shadowy realm and letting go was difficult. In few minutes, after a little recovery time, I figured he'd be ready for round two. After spewing that initial load of cum, those big balls of his would be anxious to unload again. I imagined he had lots of spooge to share, a never-ending supply of ball juices. Yep, I wanted more of this, as he was now initiated and that was a good thing.

"Sorry, sweetie, we gotta get back on the watch," I regretfully informed him.

"Thank you for what we did," he said barely above a whisper.

"It's mutual," I muttered with a smile and noted in the dimness the glow on his face. He was so young and so eager and I was turned on. "Okay, back to work, switching gears, yep, shifting to the war mode. There'll be another time, don't worry."

He pulled out the rest of the way, sucking and flopping sounds squished between my legs. The big head retracted, dangling under him, and left a trail of ooze across my inner thigh. Through the length of my vaginal tunnel, that felt so good. Pulling down the sides, spreading my opening, leaving me temporarily stretched and exposed, I nearly gasped out loud. Whew, I mumbled to myself, as my insides relished in that, and naturally, there was hidden anticipation of the next bulging and swollen encounter.

A few shivers, shakes, and some chills up and down my pelvis felt amazingly good. Wow, the depth of each stroke meant that a good hard pounding was well worth the time and energy to risk life and limb. Oh, the pull of that nice hard dick down the swollen channel of my vagina can barely be described by any intelligible words. For an instant, I wondered if he would be ready to go another round. Geez, I wouldn't mind fucking this kid all day long. Yep, in the blink of an eye, I'd break him down and then turn him into a fighting sex machine. Ah, if only there's was time and a better place.

"Roger that ma'am, I ready and good to go," he said obediently.

"Good job, private, you're a fast learner, soldier," I answered with a grin. "Alright, secure that dick and tuck those balls, clothes on, guns up, cover the privates and protect those buns. "Here we go, things'll be happening about now."

"I'm honored to be with you, sarge," he whispered and donned his gear.

"No, on the contrary," I murmured and peered carefully through my night vision scanner. "I'm honored to be among the young, the brave and the daring, and all the others with us." I swallowed with the shared pride of it all, and cleared my throat with a husky guttural utterance. Nodding in the darkness, I went on to say, "The moon, full as it is, gives an eerie presence around us. There's a lot you'll have to learn quickly." My chuckle caught a side-glance from him. "Your advanced training has already begun."

"Wow, it's really something," he marveled in a low voice. "Whew, I'm grateful."

"Uh huh, me too," I answered firmly and hoped he'd be firm again soon.

Grateful, obliged, thankful, and what else could be inferred by that. I pondered the thought. In this day and age, it was sex that gave us perspective on life, animated the energy inside, and made us feel authentic, creative and real. When the brain lights up during an orgasm, or ejaculation, the potency of mental alacrity increases many times. An indescribable exhilaration, for which mere words remain unspeakable, invigorates the entire body. The moment, each second, not the future, nor the past, but the immediate presence meant more than anything else did in a grossly distorted material world.

"Yes, ma'am, I'm on the watch," he wanted her to know. "We got this."

"Everyone on our side stands vigilant, sorry to say many have taken the other side," I added. "Each day, the oligarchs grow stronger in their axis of alliances."

"Understood, sarge," the youngster muttered and breathed a healthy sigh. Then he said, as they perched prone in the mountainside gully, overlooking a valley, "You think this will ever be over? I mean we get back to the way things used to be?"

"No, private," I answered swiftly with the tone of command. "Dystopia now, and that means everything we knew is gone, dead, decayed or forgotten." I drew in a long inhale, let it out slowly and tried to blend as one with the foliage. "I told them this was coming. "No one listened, they preferred stupidity instead, the status quo."

"Yes, ma'am, I mean sarge," the youngster stuttered with an anxious whisper.

For the moment, he seemed to be content to feel our presence. A good fucking is an awakening, and I figured he was reliving that momentary experience. As for me, the so-called Scarlet Badger, who was said to be a legend, I desired the moment to last endlessly. One orgasm after the other, to explode the mind with dream-like fantasies was much to be coveted. That very energy flow enlivened and motivated the free militias to prevail against the odds, of which none of us doubted that.

We had to be tough to the core, rock hard and with an armored mindset, taking psychic comfort and refuge wherever we could. Things had to be no more like the past, but more like that of a Spartan warrior. As for my new protégé, how long would he last? Could I wear him out in his constant training? Would I fuck him to death? Well there's a pleasant pubic stirring thought? Hmm, imagine that, fuck this youngster so much he goes into a coma. What the hell, if he can still get a hard-on, he can sleep while I fuck his brains out. We have simple rules, fuck, fight and frolic.

As to the old days, the old republic, where people boasted the selfish mouthing of democracy, they let it die by the unvirtuous whining of their cowardice. Sissies, wussies and crybabies, all the weaklings in a decaying carnality of salacious dysfunctions. People wanted to own people, places and things, absent the primacy of evolving sexuality. For the dominance of one over another, and not for pleasurable mutuality, or to expand consciousness beyond the unconscious natures within, selfishness prevailed.

With dystopia now, I know we can never go back, and for that matter, why would we? We had enslaved ourselves from one gluttonous form of consumption to another. For the majority below the upper one percent, we continued to build the pyramids in our voluntary slavery, so that the pharaohs had a place to die. To this day, the sarcophagi of the oligarchs persist in the clawing gasp to clutch the last gasp of riches. Yet, the dismal disparity perpetrates the perverse symbiosis of sacrificial subservience.

By contrast, to fuck or not to fuck, remains the central nexus of ideological sensuality in the broadest context of speculation. Such is beyond the simple-minded understanding of the vast majority. On the other hand, as a sturdy steady hand in need helps spread the seed, some of us rebelled against the oppression of the oligarchs. Their religious façade didn't fool us. They used it as a smokescreen to hide their own insecurities and oppress the rest of us. As time passed, we got tired of the hypocrisy.

In our tiny subculture, our renegade militias recognized men and women as co-equals in all things. For most of us, we embraced the warrior ideal. Hunter or huntress, the idea could prevail in any given aspect of human endeavor. Work had, be creative, help others, and most of all become a better version than your original self. Maturity sought wisdom in higher enlightened ascendency. Be self-reliant and ask nothing of anyone, be satisfied with what you have, and grow the fuck up.

One might ask where I learned this tenacity, dedication and discipline. Well, another was highly revered and taught me well. As for me, the Scarlet Badger was feared by the federals who worked for the oligarchs. All the ones owned and operated by the oligarchs, the potentates of the corporate state wanted to get the Badger. The echo of the name Scarlet made them pause with resentful and murderous anxiety. Wanted in several regions, a bounty remained for my capture. If caught, I knew the ending was not be sure and swift. No, they would want to rape and torture me to death.

"All quiet, ma'am, preliminary scan of the terrain is negative," the young private reportedly under a soft exhaling hiss. He side glanced me, and I pondered the gaze as if he wondered about his new status. "We appear to be completely isolated."

"That's what it appears to be," I muttered admiring his enthusiasm, not to mention of course his burgeoning prowess. My little smile seemed to light up his face. "Take heart, private. We'll do it again." I nodded. "You're an eager learner and you're good."

"Thank you," he said again with the meekness of a boyish hint. His expression became serious for a moment. "You should know, ma'am, I've been told that over the years before the fall, you've refused an officer's rank."

"That's true," I answered matter-of-factly. "I like being in the action."

"That's what they say," he added bashfully and needed to be screwed again. At least that's what I wanted to read in his facial hint. "Uh huh, that's what I hear, ma'am." He lifted his goggles and tossed me a smile. "Tough and tenacious like a badger."

I pulled in a breath and smiled back. For the next moment, I took a scan of the lower valley sector. In the greenish red tint of the scanners, the landscape spread wide. Open and exposed areas meant crossing could be deadly. I figured if an attack were coming, that it would take place here along the bushy tree lines connecting to where we just fucked. As to the issue of rank, I've always preferred to be with the line personnel. Long ago in the former U.S. Army, I earned my stripes and wanted to keep it that way. In my former redress of grievances, that was part of the old republic.

"They also tell you badgers are vicious loners?" I quizzed playfully. He smiled and seemed to be thinking it over. "And, they are polygamous. Actually, I think the better term for it is polyamorous. Badgers like to fuck around a lot."

"Uh huh, I heard that too, ma'am",' he said with a gulp and a grin.

"Here, private," I muttered softly and handed him my night vision goggles. "Take mine, we'll get you equipped with better ones in due time. Watch the valley."

"Thank you. Ma'am, can I ask you about the Appalachian incident?" He put the newer goggles over his forehead. I helped secure the strap. "Sorry, just curious."

"No problem. That was a few weeks ago," I answered, carefully absorbing the surroundings and listening to any hint of movement. "Sure, storytelling is good. To resupply, my team was headed to the trading post near the Carolinas."

"Uh huh, yes ma'am, around here, the Smokey Mountains," the youngling said but it was more like a question. "Part of the Badger Group."

"Yep, what's left us now, survived that encounter," I told him and let my hand fall gently on his thigh. For a second, I let my mind shift. That inner hunger for another good fuck grabbed me in the crotch. "That was a few weeks ago."

"The forbidden chasm," he whispered with a hint of intrigue and fascination. "You were headed to the Gonzo compound," he mumbled while he put the vision system to work scanning the terrain. "Uh, I mean, sorry, it's just the rumors, you know, the troopers talk when they drink. And, that strange old man who supplies the resistance."

"Yes, we do drink a lot, and we talk about stuff," Scarlet whispered back. "Yes, the infamous Gonzo enclave. An abyss of mindless wanderings. As to the Appalachian incident, well that's just another story to be told around a camp fire."

"All due respect, ma'am," the private started up again. "They say you rescued an entire squad that had been taken hostage by some local warlord." He cleared his throat.

"Yeah, that would be accurate," I answered softly but kept alert and applied her well-honed senses to survey the movement of shadows. My fingers slightly rubbed his trousers, inching closer to his groin. "Yeah, a warlord, some wannabe bad guy, full of thuggery," I continued and crouched down deeper into the ground, carefully below the concealing embankment. "This asshole was full-scale bully who enjoyed intimidation and torture. He liked to put a bat into the brains of his victims. He'd caught one of our long-range patrols and wanted to make an example of them. Had his gremlins surround them and taunt the patrol with all manner of insult and degradation." She sucked in a breath.

"Did they really piss and shit on them?" My protégé asked with a sour gaze. "I heard horrible things they do to captives. Skinning, beheading, stuff like that."

"Yep, my youngling," I answered and noted his face seemed darkened by a frown. Probably fear provoked by the stories he'd heard. It's always difficult to tell what people are really thinking, as humans are gifted at deception. "Their tribe relished in torture. Physical pain was their trademark, for which the oligarchs paid lots of money, material goods, and plenty of favors. Yet, one place they would not go."

"The Gonzo compound?" He asked with a more hopeful look. "Whoa, that's it, isn't it?" His eyes seemed to sparkle at mere mention of that legend. "Wow?"

"Yeah, no one wants to go there, it's haunted by death's remembrance of things long passed." I smiled fondly at this young one. Again, I reminded myself of the challenge to break him down, and turn him into my personal sex aide. Switching the clarity of my insight, I offered, "As to your earlier question, the warlord was brutally evil. Torture came quickly, along with skinning the victim alive and making others watch."

"They say he was a cannibal," the private added with a shiver. He rolled onto his hip to face me. My hand eased up his strong thigh to his groin. With affectionate squeezes, I could feel the bulge and the length of his penis. After slight startled shake, he added, "Uh, Oh, wow, yeah, just the thought is creepy. I get chills when I think about the evil."

"Yes, he was a flesh eater, and a skinner who liked his meat medium rare," I panted slightly. As a distraction, I pointed to a clearing in the distance and diverted the moment. "Scan that area I don't like the feeling I'm getting." I paused for a second or two. "Ghosts, goblins and gremlins, people wanna believe in demons. Nope, my young friend, none of that exists except in the imagination of weak and gullible people, as others exploit them. Evil, my lad," I said as I stroked him, "it's bad stuff people do."

"I, uh, whew, wanna believe in something," the youngster mumbled. "Sarge, I think I might cum again. If you keep rubbing me, I might spew in my pants."

"Don't worry it's okay, relax, try to keep your focus, while I'm doing it. It's a form of multitasking, my young private, while I toy with your privates."

"Uh, oh yeah, I mean yes ma'am," he stuttered.

"Now, as to evil and belief, yeah you will believe in lots of things, but pick your beliefs with caution. Time changes your perspective as to what really matters." I rolled on one side, inched a little closer and stared at my youthful trooper with a smile. I went on, "Focus, discipline, you should be able to get a blow job, or a hand job, fire that rifle and stay on mission." I could feel that he was hard as a rock again. So, I told him more. "The Grafter, as we called the cannibal, made one fatal error. That's what the fearful called him, because he skinned his victims alive and ate their body parts raw. He liked them to watch their slow horrible deaths." I conducted a quick three-sixty around our position, listened intently to every sound and jacked him off slowly. "A big hulking bully asshole who relished in the fear he provoked in others, not unlike the oligarchs."