Love in Dangerous Waters.
In 4 parts, by RachaelJane. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Serf Jasmine seeks her freedom by entering the Argonaut.
Chapter 1: The next step
The domed city of Argon is a marvel of engineering created in the dying days of the old regimes. Uninterrupted wars; the plundering of rapidly diminishing resources; and extreme weather events, had reduced most of the planet's population to little more than scavengers and refugees, dependent on the largess of the privileged few who controlled most of the Earth's remaining wealth and resources. The ideas of democracy and freedom had been swept away by the unstoppable return of the medieval concept of feudalism. The wealthy elite became the new aristocracy, while the bulk of the population was reduced to modern day serfs; indentured to their local overlord from cradle to grave.
History doesn't record exactly when the planet's ruling elites decided to create huge domed cities like Argon. Possibly the domed cities simply evolved as the ravages of war, and the uncontrollable elements, destroyed wide swathes of land. Floods and wild fires herded those with the wealth and ability to move into defensible towns and cities. Those who lacked the means were abandoned to their fate. Hundreds of millions died. Taxes were directed solely towards protecting the new centers of population. Many old and famous towns and cities were left to the elements, or to the marauding armies who lived off the misery of others. Within a few decades, there was little trace of the old world. Even the rogue armies finally disbanded when it became too difficult to find food and supplies to service their rapacious needs.
We're told that Argon is typical of the domed cities scattered around what is left of the inhabited world. Argon's large central city houses about eighty thousand people. Access to the domed part of the city is strictly controlled, and no serf is allowed into the central city without a special permit. To live inside the domed center requires wealth far beyond most people's imagination. No city citizen ever dirties their hands doing menial tasks. Consequently, in order to service the needs of the new elite, nearly two hundred thousand people commute daily into the city from one of sixteen outer settlements. Most of the commuters are serfs who have purchased short term freedom from their settlement overlord. The commuting workforce provide all the essential services that keep the city operating from day to day. Laborers and house servants are in great demand, along with those who provide personal services ranging from hairdressing to sexual services.
Despite the strict rules that control our lives, we are generally a happy population, or so I am lead to believe. Our rulers constantly remind us that these days we have a steady supply of food, and that most settlements now boast their own medical center, albeit with unqualified medics and very few drugs or medicines. New laws limiting a serf's work hours to only sixty hours a week mean that we have more leisure time. None of this existed until as recently as eight years ago. I can remember the days when my family went without meals, and my parents' reliance on dubious folklore remedies for dealing with ailments.
The strictures of modern day serfdom prohibit those living in the settlements from obtaining jobs in the central city without compensation for 'loss of future labor' being paid to their local overlord. For young people, where 'future labor' may represent forty or more years of service, the cost of compensation for a lifetime of freedom is well beyond the means of a young serf. Many must opt for purchasing their freedom for a limited time in the rarely-achieved hope of earning enough in the city to purchase an extension of time.
Those seeking permanent freedom usually take an indirect route towards achieving their goal. One such route is to undergo one of the quarterly assessments and authentication conducted by the Bureau of Ancillary Services. The Bureau's authentication process ensures that the never-ending demands for young workers in the city are satisfied. Success in the Argonaut, as the assessment and authentication process is commonly called, means freedom from serfdom; although that freedom invariably comes at the price of a large debt to be repaid. The Bureau will lend the successful serf the amount of compensation due to the serf's overlord, enabling a city work permit to be issued. However, even attending one of the quarterly assessments can be a costly affair. Firstly the serf must compensate his or her overlord for the three days absence from work, and secondly the serf is required to cover the cost of accommodation for the duration of assessment.
Argon's settlements are named after American presidents and European royal houses, reflecting the origins of most of the city's population. Governance of Argon, and hence its settlements, is by a military junta who appoint all the administration and military officers, including each settlement's leader. The junta also creates and enforces the laws which control our daily life. Anybody who voices dissent against the junta's reign is rapidly and severely punished without any right to a trial. Even those living in the city are careful about what they say. Rumors says that the worst offenders are executed, but none of our heavily censored news-feeds make reference to anyone suffering that fate. Minor offences usually result in longer work hours, or the loss of access to the few recreational facilities.
But enough about my world, it is time to tell you of my place in it. My name is Jasmine, and Buchanan settlement has been my home for all of my nineteen years. I've worked in one of the local recycling plants ever since I left school at eight years old. For a decade I have had a dream of buying my freedom so that I can work inside Argon's central city. Now I have a chance. I am one of those who will be assessed at the next Argonaut, thanks to an anonymous benefactor who has sponsored my application.
For better or worse, I have chosen my next step. My arrival at the old boarding school that houses the Bureau of Ancillary Services assessment center is the gateway to my future.
Chapter 2: The lacy nightie.
It's nearly midnight and I can't get to sleep. The first session of the Argonaut starts in nine hours. I still can't get over my sponsor's generous offer that has allowed me to attend. I realize that the very late arrival of the sponsor's offer confirms that I'm a last minute substitute. Given my father's blemished political record, I suspect my anonymous sponsor is scraping the bottom of the barrel in choosing me. But he or she did, and that has enabled me to be here at the old boarding school which serves as the headquarters of the Bureau of Ancillary Services. The original school closed decades ago when Argon's junta decided to close the last remaining links with the decaying towns and cities beyond the borders of Argon's self-proclaimed territory, effectively isolating us from the world. There was no need for schools with boarding facilities after that.
Every three months, Argon's Bureau of Ancillary Services accepts the applications of exactly fifty settlement adults between the ages of eighteen and twenty-seven. Successful applicants become contestants in the Argonaut, which consists of a series of interviews and tests supervised by an assessment panel. Some of the interviews are broadcast on the news-feeds throughout Argon and its settlements, with the intention of attracting future employers for the hopeful contestants should they secure a city work permit. The number of permits available each quarter is a closely guarded secret. Consequently, passing all the tests doesn't automatically result in a contestant being granted a permit. And obtaining a permit doesn't guarantee a good job. Not all city jobs are better than those in the settlements, but that doesn't stop the competitiveness for the permits. That competitiveness often includes a range of sabotage and underhand tricks targeting the weaker contestants.
These days the Argonaut doesn't automatically favor the handful of contestants who have served a ten-year term in the military, and who are now into their twenties. The leaders of some settlements still prefer the old tradition of favoring the applications of those who have served in the military. Former soldiers are often trained to do well in the Argonaut's tests. A contestant's success can give a boost to their own settlement's ranking in the eyes of the junta; a ranking that determines the priority given to the funding of a settlement's civic improvements.
It's no secret which contestants were formerly in the military. Knowledge of their status is intended to intimidate the other contestants. Their names and reputations are etched in every other contestant's mind; Paulo and Chloe from Eisenhower, Heidi from Grant, and Mansel from Bourbon. All contestants have the support of volunteer helpers who do everything from offering advice to helping solve minor problems. These helpers are an eclectic selection of oddballs and do-gooders from among the city's bored residents. Not all of them are model Argon citizens, and three of the female contestants have already complained about being groped by one of the helpers.
I give up trying to sleep, and I decide to take a walk around the old school building housing the fifty contestants for the current Argonaut. I slip my short dressing gown over my even shorter nightie. Normally I sleep naked, but I had the sense to borrow a nightie and gown from my twelve-year-old sister. I'm not a blushing maiden, but sleeping naked in a mixed gender dormitory is asking for trouble.
The eight dormitories are designed to accommodate six people in each. Seven are single-sex dormitories. However, the late applicants, like me, must put up with eight of us crammed into the room, which now houses three male and five female contestants. Everywhere is quiet as I head towards the communal dining area. Everyone else must have had no trouble in falling asleep. In Harper's case that probably has more to do with the quantity of alcohol he consumed during the evening meal, since he's asleep on the dining room floor. Suddenly a movement catches my eye. I duck behind a door in case it is Patrick. He also comes from Buchanan, and he's the closest person I have to a friend in this place. I'm not certain I want him seeing me dressed like this. I watch the figure at the other end of the dormitory for a few moments before realizing it is one of the robots that clean up after us. They try to be invisible, hovering just out of sight unless one is needed to clean up after us. The robot is using our absence to finish clearing away the empty glasses and plates from our evening meal.
The robot leaves the room through a side door. It dawns on me that there must be a service corridor somewhere in this rambling jumble of rooms to enable the robots to come and go. The main door to this wing of the old school is locked and monitored at this time of night. The sophisticated sensors provide security against intruders, and ensure the contestants don't do anything underhand before the assessment begins. I feel the urge to explore.
I go through the door the robot used and find myself in a corridor with a relatively new door at the far end. Undoubtedly the robot is going to the kitchen and I follow it at a discreet distance. I follow the robot through the end door and I see that it opens onto a corridor crossing at right angles to the one I've just travelled. More doors are visible along the corridor, but I notice that each has one of the security pads used to unlock the door. My adventure is going to be short lived if all of the doors need a security code to operate them. I head in the opposite direction to the kitchens and try one of the doors at the end of the corridor. It's unlocked. A set of rickety wooden stairs are on the other side of the door and I descend to the level where the recreation and practice rooms are located. The door at the bottom of the stairs opens and I tentatively peek out in case anyone is around. Everything seems quiet.
I'm now in the main corridor on this level, not far from where the main stairs are located. I know my way to the recreation rooms, but not what lies behind the many other doors branching off the main corridor.
The lack of security guards concerns me for a moment before I recall that everywhere is monitored by cameras. My little adventure is probably already being observed by the security guards in a control room somewhere. Any minute now I can expect to hear the sound of stomping feet and being faced with a squad of burly guards wanting to know what I'm doing. My best plan is to ignore the cameras and just walk as though I've every right to be here. Sneaking about will just raise suspicion that I'm up to no good. Fortunately my dressing gown is a similar color to the robots, so an inattentive guard may mistake me for a robot.
I walk along the corridor not daring to breathe in case I trigger an alarm, or my actions make the security guards decide to investigate. I haven't thought about where I'm going other than I don't really want to go into the games rooms. A door off the main corridor is ajar and on impulse I go through it into another short corridor with a door at the end. This part of the building is much newer than the area behind me. There's plenty of light streaming through the window in the door. The lighting has been dimmed everywhere else, but the room on the other side of this door is fully lit.
The window in the door is misted, and the smell of chemicals makes me think that it's a laundry. I open the door and peek inside. Not a laundry. It's a large swimming pool. Much larger than anything Buchanan settlement can boast. The room is warm and the water looks inviting. At least to someone like me who can swim. I walk around the pool to check that nobody is about. I come across some racks with towels but there are no swimming suits. Nobody said to bring a swimming suit, so I must either forgo a swim, or swim naked.
The water looks enticing, but I'm also aware that the pool, like everywhere else, will be monitored by cameras. I can see at least three cameras around the walls. What I can't understand is why I've not been accosted by security guards. Even the dopiest guard must surely have realized by now that I'm not a robot. But I push my concerns about that to one side and prepare to enter the water. I slip off my dressing gown and dive into the water wearing my short nightie. I'm not brash enough to strip myself naked in front of whoever is monitoring the cameras. That's something I quickly regret. The way my wet nightie is clinging to me I can see that I'm leaving very little to the imagination.
I swim a couple of lengths of the pool before I realize that I have company. Someone else has entered the water. I make a sudden cry of alarm. Who is it? I'm in two minds whether to leave the water and make a hasty exit, or to stand my ground. The daunting prospect of running around the corridors wearing nothing but a wet translucent nightie settles my dilemma. I turn to face whoever is here with me.
The swimmer heads in my direction. As the distance between us shortens I realize the swimmer is male and that he has no clothes on. Suddenly running around the complex in a wet nightie doesn't seem such a silly idea any more. My indecision causes me to waste my only chance of leaving the pool without confronting him.
The swimmer comes directly for me. He stops a few meters from me and treads water.
"I didn't think any of the other contestants knew about this place, nor be brave enough to take a midnight swim," he says.
Chapter 3: Swimming with a naked girl.
"We don't need to fight," replies Paulo. "There's time for that soon enough. I intend to enjoy my swim and then go to bed. I suggest you do the same. Or can't you sleep? You wouldn't be the first contestant to be nervous and suffer sleepless nights before the Argonaut."
"I'm not nervous," I say defiantly, mostly for my own benefit. "I just can't get used to sleeping on a soft bed."
"Yeah, whatever," he replies dismissively. "Well, in that case, you can race me to the other end of the pool and back."
"Why?" I ask.
"Because it's fun and I don't often get the chance to swim with a naked girl. Are you normally so argumentative?"
"I'm not naked. And I'm not arguing. I'm being; um; curious."
"Ha! You may as well be naked for all that is hidden by that flimsy thing you are wearing. You have a nice body. You shouldn't be afraid to let people see it."
Paulo's comments immediately cause me to feel awkward. He's a rival and ex-military, so he's a serious threat to my chances during the Argonaut. But my traitorous body would be happy to yield to his desires. I mustn't let him see how much his comment has disturbed me, so I move into position for the race that he wants.
"Are you ready? Go!" I call as I launch myself off in the direction of the far end.
"Hey! Cheat!" he calls before taking off after me.
I've never tried swimming in a race, but I soon see Paulo's point. It is fun. I'm almost reach the far end before Paulo manages to draw close to me. He's a strong swimmer but doesn't have the elegant style that my father drummed into me. We turn only seconds apart and I try to increase my speed on the return leg. Half way down the pool I realize that Paulo's strength is starting to tell, and that I'm struggling to keep my lead. Moments later we are level and I draw on my last reserves to regain the lead. We reach the end of the pool neck and neck. I don't think either of us can tell who touched the end first.
We are both breathing heavily as we climb out of the pool and collapse on the floor. It is only then that I realize that we are virtually touching. I'm lying next to naked young man. That's something I've only ever done in my wildest fantasies. My limited sexual experiences to date have involved remarkably little nudity. Fortunately Paulo seems too preoccupied in regaining his breath to notice my discomfort. I should move away before he recovers, but something inside me makes me stay where I am.
"Is that the best your settlement's wonderful training regime can teach you?" I say.
"Swimming isn't an essential skill, even in the military. The Argonaut tests rarely require the need to swim beyond having sufficient skill to avoid drowning. Where did you learn to swim like that? I didn't think there would be much call for swimming in the industrial settlements."
"There isn't, but my parents always hoped I would gain a permit to work in the city. It's impossible to know what skills might be required if I land a job in the city. I suppose my father thought it useful for me to learn to swim well."
Paulo turns towards me. As hard as I try not to look below his waist, my eyes are drawn like a magnet. I notice he is looking at me in a way that makes me both excited and uncomfortable. I look into his eyes and immediately sink into their depths. I don't even notice when he moves closer so our bodies are actually touching. The kiss that follows seems so natural my body responds by itself.
"We shouldn't be doing this," I say with half-hearted sincerity when we break for air.
"Why not?" is his reply.
"Because we are rivals. We will be expected to try and outsmart each other tomorrow."
"And does doing this make any difference? This is now. The assessments are later."
"I don't know if I can separate the two."
"Not all contestants are selfish machines. Chloe may fit the classic win-at-all-costs profile, but unlike her I don't enjoy sabotaging another contestant's chances."
"But your training will still make you sabotage that person's chances regardless of how you feel now. And that person could be me."
"I know. I won't like doing that to a fellow contestant, but I'll do it if necessary. It would be unfortunate if you and I come face to face in one of the tests. But you are right, my training will help me make the right choice."
"I'm sure I shall be a lot happier knowing how cut up you are as you sabotage my efforts," I say with as much sarcasm as I can manage.
"Yes, I may even shed a tear," he replies with equal sarcasm as he leans towards me and shares a second kiss with me.
My mind and body are confused. Even fully clothed I've never been this intimate with anyone before. My near nakedness is sending all the wrong signals to both of us. I should stop and walk out of here, but as crazy as it sounds there is no way I want to do that.
Our third kiss is accompanied by roaming hands. His on my yielding torso and mine onto the rock hard shaft pushing against my thighs, and seeking entrance to the throbbing slit between my legs.
"Do you think the security cameras in this room are switched off?" I ask before Paulo can claim the prize his cock seeks.
"No. I'm fairly sure we are being watched."
"Then why haven't the security guards frog marched us back to our dormitories?"
"We aren't trying to kill each other so there's no need for them to intervene. Anyway, if they do then they'll miss all the fun? Can you imagine how boring it must be to watch banks of screens for hours, with absolutely nothing happening to break the monotony. We are livening up their night for them. For all we know they could be selling tickets to watch the main event."
"That's disgusting. Anyway, what main event? I hope you aren't implying that we are going any further with this liaison."
"I'm not implying anything."
Chapter 4: The hunter's proposition.
"And what makes you think I want there to be a main event?" I say.
"Because you do," says Paulo. "Otherwise you would have dressed more modestly before you left your dormitory. And you wouldn't have stayed in here when you saw me in the water with you. Nor would you have let me lie close to you like this."
"I don't have to explain myself to you. If I choose to say 'no', then that is my right. Or did you have something more forceful in mind? Something more in keeping with your special training."
"Nonsense! Have I in any way hurt you while we have been here? As far as I can tell you've so far enjoyed my company."
I suddenly feel awkward and uncomfortable. My own feelings are strange to me and causing some confusion. Paulo is right. I have enjoyed his company, and I have no complaints about his behavior so far; other than his suggestion that this has all been the appetizer, and that the main course is about to follow.
His remarks have hit home more than I'm willing to admit. He's right. I chose not to put on more clothes, because I felt an urge to free my sexuality from its everyday constraints. And the more daring I've been tonight, the more alive my body has felt. Even now the prospect of allowing Paulo to perform the most intimate acts with me is sending a thrill through my body. But common sense is telling me to stop. And I'm the sort of person who pays a lot of attention to common sense; well, most of the time.
"I'm sorry," I say. "Your behavior so far doesn't deserve my last remark. But I still have the right to say 'no'."
"And I'll respect your decision. But can I remind you that is well past midnight and we might not have the opportunity another time."
"Where I come from, it is customary to seduce a girl before leaping on her," I say, not really knowing if that statement is true.
"Really? You would surrender yourself to someone who told you your eyes are beautiful, that your body is just perfect, and your choice of clothes is divine? Surely you are far too level headed to fall for that sort of line."
"Hmmm; Well you aren't persuading me at the moment."
"Hah! You're perfect! I love a woman who plays hard to get. The chase is just as much fun as the end result."
"You're talking from experience, I presume?" I retort.
"You are an interesting challenge! I notice that despite your reluctance, you haven't ruled out accepting my suggestion."
"You're stalling. As you said, it is getting late and as much as I've enjoyed our time together, we both have a busy schedule tomorrow."
"I agree. If I can't make you say 'yes' within five minutes then I shall concede defeat and we shall go back to our dormitories."
He looks at me and I nod in agreement.
"So, what really excites a girl from Buchanan?" he muses to himself. "We can't be that different. Your settlement has industrial factories and my last ten years have been in the military. Both require heavy manual labor. Sweating bodies and dirt everywhere. Which explains why you aren't swooning at the sight of my bare chest. There are girls who almost faint at the sight; but not you. Despite what you said, I don't think sweet-talking you is going to make you want to say 'yes'. So, that leaves a more physical approach. I think you are the type who likes to be hunted. Not the fake chases and mock play about being captured and becoming a helpless victim of a man's wicked desires. No, I think you really want a man to prove to you he is able to outsmart you and is therefore worthy of your body."
"What a bizarre idea," I say, trying hard to sound casual. My already heightened senses are being pushed into overdrive. I've never thought about what attracts me sexually, but Paulo's comments are setting me alight with desire. "How are you going to prove your theory?"
"I shall give you a thirty second start. If I can't find you within four minutes then I shall return to my bed a sorry man. But if I corner you, then you are mine."
"I thought I had the right to say 'no'," I say.
"And you do. It will only take you ten seconds to reach the door to the main corridor, and from there you are free to return to your dormitory. I shall not attempt to stop you. You have twenty five seconds left."
I leap up and bolt for the side rooms holding the towels. There are other rooms on the far side. Saunas and hot pools. All ready for use, but currently devoid of people.
There is a lack of good hiding places, but I only need to stay free for four minutes. It will take Paulo most of that time to check all these rooms. I settle for a room with several sunken hot tubs in the middle and clothes lockers around the walls. Some lockers are just large enough for me to hide inside. It isn't until I'm hidden that I realize that by staying in these rooms I have made a major decision. If Paulo finds me then I've promised him that he can fuck me.
One minute passes; then another. I can't hear anything. My hiding place offers only a limited view of the hot tubs. I begin to wonder if Paulo is actually looking for me. How embarrassing it would be if he simply left for his dormitory, leaving the security guards monitoring us to laugh at my folly. But I saw the look in Paulo's eyes. He definitely had the look of a wolf eager to devour a lamb. A lamb called Jasmine.
The three minute mark must have passed before I hear something in the adjacent room. The sound of doors being opened and closed. He must be searching the lockers in that room. The speed at which he is doing it suggests he knows he is running out of time. He won't have time to search the lockers in this room. I've won!
Or have I?
Chapter 5: Are we done talking?
Although I don't have a watch, I know that Paulo's time is definitely running out. Paulo must know that too. I do something I would never have thought myself capable of doing in these circumstances; I leave my hiding place.
Paulo bursts into the room with the hot tubs with what can only be seconds of his four minute deadline remaining. He stands by the door in shock.
"What kept you?" I say. "Your four minutes are nearly up. You almost missed enjoying a treat. This water is divine. Not too hot and not too cold."
Paulo recovers from his shock and joins me in the tub. The tub is only two meters in diameter so we are fairly close together as soon as he enters the water. But he doesn't immediately touch me as I had expected. He waits on the opposite side of the tub as though waiting for permission to approach me.
"You allowed me to find you when you could have easily hidden in one of these lockers," says Paulo. "What does that mean?"
"What would you like it to mean?" I say.
"I would like it to mean that you have proved your cleverness and that you are now ready to continue where we left off before."
"Are you sure you aren't too tired and wish to go to bed?" I tease.
"I think I could manage to stay awake all night given the right incentive. How about you?"
"The same. Are we done talking?"
"I thought women like to talk," he says as he wraps me in his arms.
"There's a time and a place for everything. And talking isn't what I need right now."
He kisses me and I melt into his arms. My hands reach down to massage his already solid cock.
Just at that moment the lights go out and we are plunged into pitch darkness. But I don't care. Paulo's arms are wrapped around me and I simply don't care.
Less than a minute later the emergency lighting activates and the room changes from pitch black to something akin to a moonlit night.
"Stay where you are and don't move," comes a man's voice over a hidden speaker.
The warm glow flowing through my entire body makes me wonder why the man would think I would wish to move from this position.
"I think we are about to be arrested or something," whispers Paulo into my ear.
I don't care. I just want to hold Paulo like this and feel him pressed against me. The normal lighting comes back on and we break our hold on each other to look around us. I take the opportunity to retrieve my nightie which is floating in the water. I don't recall whether it was Paulo or me who removed it during our brief interlude. I put it back on with some difficulty. The wet fabric clinging to me in a way it didn't seem to do just moments before.
Three security guards enter our room accompanied by a man with enough gold braid on his uniform to indicate that he's somebody important.
"This is most irregular. Most irregular," grumbles the man. "These facilities are closed for the duration of the Argonaut. I don't know how you gained entry to this building, but you must leave. It is fortunate you didn't enter the old school. We would have had to arrest you if you went up there. Now, make yourselves decent and I'll escort you to the door."
I look at Paulo and realize that he is as baffled as I am at what is going on. As Paulo and I fetch some towels to dry ourselves it dawns on me that these security guards think we are central city residents who have found a way into this recreation center. They don't know we are Argonaut contestants, and have sneaked down here from our respective dormitory.
Neither Paulo nor I have clothes, unless you count my flimsy wet nightie. I can't remember where I left my dressing gown. Paulo presumably arrived wearing something, but he doesn't seem inclined to go and fetch it. We both wrap towels around us and knot them to preserve a modicum of decency. The security officer signals for us to follow him. We meekly follow him like two naughty children.
"I know the festivities during the Argonaut are a time for high spirits, but you mustn't enter a secure area like this," lectures the man. "Now go home before you get into more trouble."
With that brief lecture over, we are escorted out of a side door to the large plaza outside. The door is closed firmly behind us. The plaza is just outside the domed city, between the dome support wall and the huge drainage channels that funnel storm water away from the inhabited areas. Consequently this area is accessible to both city residents and the serfs of the settlements. However, the distance to the nearest settlement means that few serfs will bother travelling here for pleasure.
"You heard the man. We must go home," says Paulo.
"In case you haven't noticed, we have no clothes, no money, and it's a long walk home," I say. "Besides, if we go missing we are automatically disqualified from the Argonaut."
"That's true," replies Paulo. "But we won't be missed until morning. We have at least seven hours to ourselves. We can do a lot in seven hours."
"Yes. We could look at the statues over there, and; "
I almost break into laughter at Paulo's reaction to my suggestion. He clearly has something quite different in mind and, in truth, so do I. I take his hand and walk along the wide boulevard that runs next to the recreation center and the old boarding school next door. I soon realize that this area is what passes for an entertainment zone, but the various places are closing for the night.
The boulevard is busy. Mainly with young couples like us enjoying each other's company. In their case, they are returning towards their homes under the domed part of the city. Having worked myself up into deciding tonight is going to be my big night, I feel slightly disappointed that we can't find somewhere to go.
"Can you climb?" asks Paulo, pointing to a wide balcony above a café which has already closed for the night. Climbing the wall to reach the balcony shouldn't be too difficult.
"Yes. Can you?" I reply already heading towards a promising looking place on the side wall.
Paulo follows me as I make light work of climbing the fixtures adorning the café wall. Despite his military training, Paulo doesn't find it quite so easy. Something I must remember when the Argonaut starts. We scramble onto the balcony and see it is laid out like a terrace with tables and chairs for the café customers. This place will be perfect.
Chapter 6: Games in the night.
I find a large sofa with a low table in front of it. I clear away the glasses and plates the last occupants of this area left behind. The owners of the café clearly intends to clear up in the morning.
"Hey, look what I found," says Paulo. "A half-finished bottle of wine. I'll fetch some glasses."
It won't be real wine, but I'm sure the technicians of the central city can produce something akin to the real thing. I make myself comfortable. Even outside the dome, the ambient temperature is several degrees warmer than in Buchanan; a product of the hot exhaust air pumped out of the city. The huge domes act like greenhouses, and the air inside must be continually vented to regulate the temperature.
I lie back and look at the starlit sky. It's all very romantic, which helps put me back in the mood for what I know is about to happen. When we were in the hot pool we thought we were pressed for time and needed to rush things. Here we are alone and unlikely to be disturbed before morning.
Paulo returns with two glasses and a bottle of what I presume is pseudo-wine. I've never drunk wine before, real or fake. It isn't the sort of luxury anybody in Buchanan can afford. Paulo pours some of the wine into the two glasses. He samples some wine before passing my glass to me.
"Need to check the wine hasn't gone off," he says when he sees my puzzled look. I shrug in response. Either he is showing off, or drinking Argon wine is a far more common event in the military than I thought.
"Ah! A Chardonnay, if I'm not mistaken," he says has he sniffs the wine and takes another sip.
"Are you an expert on wine?" I ask incredulously. "Or are you just making that up?"
"Neither. That's what is written on the label," he laughs.
I join in his laughter. His playfulness is helping me relax and I'm no longer nervous about what is going to happen. By the time we've finished the wine we are sat side by side on the sofa. He puts his hands on me. Mine echo his movements. The real world seems a million miles away. I can't tell whether it is the effects of the wine or Paulo's attentions which are causing me to think only of this moment and the intense pleasure I'm feeling as our limbs entwine.
Then he starts kissing me. At this point I lose control of myself and crave for more of what he is doing. I've no experience at this level of intimacy, and only the vaguest idea of what I'm supposed to do. Knowledge gained from teenage gossip in the factory, which is probably completely wrong. But I needn't have worried. Somehow my body seems to know what to do by instinct. When I'm not doing something quite right, Paulo quietly guides me towards the right action. Our bodies respond as though we are one.
Then, before I realize it, he is on top of me. I feel that I'm at his complete mercy. That should alarm me and make me struggle, but all I want to do is to surrender myself to his desires. I'm rewarded with the most sensational feeling I can imagine. Heavy petting is as far as I've gone before. Paulo's actions make it clear that we are going well beyond that tonight. I had been told there would be some pain involved, but I'm too far gone into the stratosphere of my arousal to notice. Paulo senses my submission and rewards me with a gentle and unhurried treat. His cock pushes its way into my moist cunt and I wrap my legs around his thighs to hold him in position.
"Careful. I don't want to get pregnant," I say in a brief moment of lucidity.
If he hears me he doesn't alter his actions in any way. I'm too light-headed to force the issue. It's a problem for another day.
Finally Paulo and I are spent. Our emotions can only remain at fever pitch for so long. We eventually return to the real world. I've no idea how long I've been away. We lie in each other’s arms for a while regaining our breath.
"That wasn't bad for a first timer," says Paulo.
"More of your experience talking, I suppose?" I reply, not certain whether to feel complemented or insulted.
"You're not my first, if that's what you mean. There are benefits to being chosen as a contestant long before the Argonaut starts. Good performance in training is rewarded by a bevy of young women eager to be fucked by a contestant. But I meant what I said. I could tell that you were inexperienced, but you let go of your inhibitions. Few young women can do that the first time."
"Well I'm not sure we will be in a position for there to be a second time. Things get very competitive once the Argonaut starts."
"Who knows. Perhaps we will come face to face in one of the tests and you can throw yourself at my mercy and beg me to let you win in exchange for a repeat of just now."
"In your dreams! I was thinking more of the other way round. Would you like to be my plaything, Paulo?" I tease.
"Now who is dreaming? You are bold, and you control your fears well. I can see you are someone I must regard as a serious rival. My chances of achieving a permit would be much better had you not been accepted as a contestant."
The afterglow of our coupling is still flowing through me, making me feel mellow. The ambient temperature is dropping now that the local businesses are closed for tonight. I snuggle closer to Paulo, both for warmth and to try and renew the strange and wonderful feelings I've experienced tonight. He gently caresses me and I start feeling aroused again. Surely he doesn't have the energy for another round of sex. Tiredness is starting to overtake me, and I can't believe it isn't affecting Paulo as well. But his caresses are divine. I don't want them to stop. He gently runs his fingers up and down my spine and sends more waves of pleasure coursing through me. I respond in kind and despite my obvious inexperience my efforts are having a visible effect on him.
"I wish we could stay here like this forever," I say. "But we both know we must return to our dormitories before dawn. If we don't turn up for roll-call, our absence will be noticed by the officials and we'll be disqualified from the Argonaut. Despite the security officer's error in throwing us out of the center, I doubt we will be shown any mercy if we miss roll-call."
"Yes, I know," replies Paulo, deep in thought. "If only there was another way. Thanks for tonight. I can honestly say I really enjoyed it, and in other circumstances I would hope for many more. I'm going to be selfish and keep your nightie as a trophy to remind me of tonight."
I was planning on doing the same thing, but I don't refuse his request. "As long as I can have a trophy in return," I reply.
"Agreed. I seem to be out of suitable offerings at the moment. Let me know tomorrow what you would like."
I feel so comfortable that I easily forget that Paulo and I are soon to face each other as rivals during the Argonaut. Either Paulo is a superb actor or his feelings mirror mine. Eventually tiredness overcomes me. The warmth of Paulo's embrace, and the after effects of the wine and our coupling, causes me to doze off despite my nakedness.
It must be an hour or so later when I wake. I'm disoriented at first, and wonder what has woken me. However, I soon realize it is the absence of Paulo's warmth that has caused me to wake. I sit up to see where he has gone, but there's no sign of him.
However, Paulo's absence isn't my main problem. As I move I realize there is a length of chain locked around my ankle, the other end of which tethers me to a heavy table.
To be continued in part 2, by Rachael Jane for Literotica.
