Deja Vu Ascendancy - Cover

Deja Vu Ascendancy

Copyright© 2008 by AscendingAuthor

Chapter 316: With the Pressure Off, We Start to Do Things

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 316: With the Pressure Off, We Start to Do Things - A teenage boy's life goes from awful to all-powerful in exponential steps when he learns to use deja vu to merge his minds across parallel dimensions. He gains mental and physical skills, confidence, girlfriends, lovers, enemies and power... and keeps on gaining. A long, character-driven, semi-realistic story.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   ft/ft   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   Humor   Extra Sensory Perception   Incest   Brother   Sister   First   Slow  

Thursday, August 10 to Thursday, August 31, 2006 (Continued)

Because I was following the thread about Ava's parents, I missed mentioning a few things.

The first, second and third things that missed mentions, and missed being acted on, were all birthday related. Donna had been due a visit from an alien gynecologist/sex-therapist on her birthday; Ron's twentieth birthday had been on August 18 (I obviously had to celebrate Ron's birthdays from now on, not Mark's); and Julia's eighteenth birthday had been three days later, on August 21. Events had conspired to disrupt all of those.

Donna's alien visit had been held up until the settlement. My and Julia's birthday celebrations had both been knocked out of consideration by Ava's parents' deaths. The hospital had warned us about Katie just before my birthday, but I hadn't been planning anything for my birthday anyway as there were too many other distractions. Katie had died the day before Julia's birthday, and there was never any possibility of a celebration after that.

But life was about to be resumed. It was summer, we were INSANELY rich, and we were owed some parties. Something had to be done. I mentioned the need to Julia, who I knew was already thinking the same thing. She immediately seized on it, "That's a GREAT idea! Ron needs a coming out party, so we can..."

"Ahh. Ron would rather not 'come out'. He's perfectly happy being heterosexual. Trust me on this; I know him VERY well."

"NOT that sort of 'coming out'. I mean coming out TO SOCIETY."

I knew what Julia meant, but it's sometimes fun to tease her. "Are any of society going to be homosexual? Because if they are, I'd rather 'stay in' than 'come out'."

"I mean a party to celebrate your joining our family."

"Oh that's different! I like joining your family, especially when I join it from above. Are we going to throw a party so people can see me joining you? Can I join Carol and Ava too please? White people have REALLY good parties!"

Teasing Julia is good fun right up to the time when she realizes she's being teased. Fortunately she was in a very good mood, because she just yelled, "Get him, girls!"

I got to practice my "joining the family", so party planning got put off for a while.

When it did resume, it'd taken shape in Julia's head as a major event. It was going to take a lot of organizing, so I hid behind Ava. So close behind that some of me was even hiding inside her. Julia was going to need to talk with the parents, so the rest of us might as well get back to something that's even more fun than my coming out, like my repeatedly sliding back in.

Vanessa told Julia, "We're too busy to have a big event like that for Ron. If you want a party, it'll have to be just a kids-only event." Poor Julia (speaking non-fiscally) got to work planning a BIG kids-only event.

^

Donna's alien visit was much easier to arrange as it merely required telling everyone over dinner, "I think it's safe for my friend to come to check on Donna's sexual maturity. How about we meet in the games room ten minutes before breakfast tomorrow morning?"

Donna immediately demonstrated that she had been maturing, by worriedly asking the other girls to help her choose what to wear. They agreed, understanding that it was an important decision. God knows how they'd decide what to wear for an alien gynecologist, because I'm pretty sure that issue wouldn't have been discussed in any of their secret female classes.

[Men really should pay more attention to these things. A few days ago I saw in the paper that a man ran into the reception area of a hospital, yelling, "My wife's having a baby in our car outside." What he really should have said was, "My wife - wearing a chartreuse skirt and white blouse - is having a baby in our car outside," because that would've saved the doctor from running outside, opening the car door, lifting the woman's skirt and putting his hand on her panties, and then realizing that he had the wrong woman. The correct one was in the next car.]

During dinner, another worry occurred to Donna, "Umm, Ron, will your friend recognize you? Now that, you know?"

"Yes it will, Donna. I'm more worried about its recognizing you. You've changed very much over the last year."

"Really!" exclaimed a happily reassured Donna, who was quite proud of the 'growths' that she'd achieved during the last year.

That night I spent a few hours very carefully searching the games room with a sight blob. "Sight blob" singular, unfortunately. Using thirty blobs would've been so much faster - damned superimposition! I wasn't yet at the stage where I could use two sight blobs simultaneously. I could shut my eyes and pipe the sight blobs' information to each of Visual Processing Centers A and B, but I feared missing a bug. Given what was going to happen, I especially looked for a small camera lens. I'd almost be tempted to leave a microphone behind if I found one, because what they'd hear would confuse the hell out them.

The only weird thing in the room was the piece of electronics we were still hiring from the LA debugging company, which would've been an amusing place to hide a bug. The device logged a wide range of radio frequency transmissions, so it would've detected the transmissions of a bug planted inside it, nonetheless I made a mental note to move it out of the room before our little ceremony.

The next morning, a well-dressed, hair-brushed, nervous Donna stood in the center of the room, while the rest of our little clan were spread out to either side of her.

I told Donna, "It's on the way, so it shouldn't take long. Ahh, here it is."

I had a bit of fun pretending to have a conversation with it about my change of appearance. Including my telling it, "It's a long story. It'd be easier if you read it straight from me."

A messenger blob merged into my brain for a few seconds longer than normal, then zipped back to the Boss Blob. It thought about it for a few seconds, then another messenger zipped back briefly.

I said, "Yes, it is a very primitive form of government." Which didn't really work as a joke because not enough of my families are into science fiction. Moving right along, I asked the Boss Blob, "Donna would like to know whether she's mature enough for sex yet?"

Boss Blob moved in front of Donna, paused for a second, and then two pyramids of diminishing-sized light blobs rapidly grew out from its 'chest', in an exaggerated parody of growing breasts.

I chuckled, adding, "Yes, Donna has grown since last time."

Donna was too nervous to chuckle, but she was pleased that the alien had noticed her tits.

Another messenger blob zipped to me. I translated, "Don't be nervous, Donna. It's about to check you."

"Okay," said Donna nervously.

Boss Blob ejected a very small blob that flew toward Donna, stopping in front of her right breast. It paused for half a second, then zipped across to be in front of her left breast, paused, and then increased in size by a factor three.

I said, "You're MUCH bigger than last time Donna."

"{Giggle}."

The nice, warm, sight blob merged into Donna's breast. It spent a couple of seconds apparently checking that breast out, then moved across to the other one, then down to Donna's groin. Personally, I'd be extremely uncomfortable having an alien fly into my vagina, but Donna stood her ground well. It hadn't hurt last time, and everyone here now wasn't concerned.

The inspecting blob reported to Big Boss, who sent a messenger blob to me. I translated, "It says you're very healthy Donna. For a human, pretty too. Time to check your thoughts and emotions now."

An inspection blob left Boss Blob and moved toward Donna's feet. I called out, "We keep our brains at the other end, remember?"

Another messenger blob came to me. I announced, "It wants to check Donna's feet because it can't believe we don't keep falling over. It told its friends that Donna likes running, and they think that's very strange so it wants to look at Donna's feet so it can tell its friends how they work. Isn't that amazing Donna - you're much more than a world-famous runner; you're a GALAXY-famous one."

She wasn't very amused, but maybe she'd appreciate it more later, when she wasn't so nervous.

After checking Donna's feet quickly (as the joke had fallen somewhat flatfooted), the inspection blob moved to Donna's head.

It rummaged around in there for several seconds, then reported to Boss Blob. Boss Blob thought about it for a couple of seconds, then sent me a messenger blob. Everyone looked at me expectantly; very much so in Donna's case.

I said, "I've got some good news and some bad news, Donna."

"Oh no," from Donna, who must've been hoping for only good news.

"It says you're too young to have a boyfriend yet, and CERTAINLY too young to be having sex with a boyfriend."

"Oh," moaned a very dejected looking Donna.

Another messenger blob came to me. I said, "It's asking why are you sad? It knows you don't really want a boyfriend. Isn't Patch better than a silly boy?"

"Yeah, but I wanted to, you know, with you."

Another messenger blob came to me. "It says it's sorry, but English sometimes confuses it. It says 'boyfriend' is a silly word because it means different things at different times. It wasn't counting me as someone who could be your boyfriend. I'm too special to count that way."

"What does that mean?"

Another messenger blob came to me. "It says that's mostly up to you. You're too young to have boyfriends because that can get very emotional and cause trouble. You've seen your girlfriends get very worked up about a boy who turned out to be too silly, haven't you?" That was a safe bet.

"Yeah. But what's that got to do with me?"

"I'm getting to that. It says you're not emotionally ready for a boyfriend, but you might be ready to try sex, if it was done in a way that was safe and not emotionally binding."

"Huh?"

"I know this sounds confusing, but it's important. Let me put it this way, if you and I had sex, would you fall in love with me, get all mushy and lovey-dovey, like some of the Ducklings and Cuties did with Mark?"

"Of course not! I just want to have sex with you." Donna was convincingly definite about that. Even puzzled that I hadn't known it already.

"It knows that, but it knows that girls can change their minds after having sex for the first time. Girls often think they've fallen in love, like some of the Ducklings and Cuties did." Another messenger blob came to me. I added, "It wants to know if you think you can treat it just like a new way of goofing off?"

[[As an amusing aside, girls truly do often fall in love after having sex with a guy for the first time, whereas men often fall out of love and even out of interest after they score with a woman the first time. The genders often operate in different directions.]]

"I just want to try it because everyone says it's fantastic with you and I love you. Not gushy love. You know what I mean."

"Sure. And if it turns out to be great, are you going to want more?"

"I just want to try it. Umm. I guess that if it's good, then I might want more, but I don't have to if you don't want me to?"

"It thinks that you could have sex with me, PROVIDED you can treat it like another way of goofing off, not want to do it too often, not get mushy, and get your parents and my girlfriends to agree."

Things had been sounding very good, right up to the mention of "parents". Donna's happy expression collapsed at that.

It was time to let Mom take over, so I did a little departure scene for the blobs.

I hadn't done it well. Not badly, in that all the points we'd wanted to achieve had been made, but clumsier than they should've been. I think because I hadn't spent enough time with Donna over the last year. I'd spent more than three months away from my family, and even when I'd returned, it'd been as Ron and always worried that my behavior was being observed. Donna had changed a lot over that time, and I hadn't seen it happening. Either that, or my clumsiness might've been because I wasn't all that eager about having sex with Donna (I was conflicted about that), or it might've just been that I'd been clumsy.

Mom took over well though. She surprised Donna by saying, "Steven and I will let you, Donna, but there are some rules."

To Donna's delighted surprise, the rules turned out to be much better than parental rules usually are: Only if it's okay with Ron, Carol, Julia and Ava first; only in Ron's bedroom; not with any other boy; keep it secret; and no more often than once a month.

Donna wasn't the least worried about getting permission from us, so Mom was effectively giving Donna the green light (the other-colored lights having left through the ceiling). The look of delight on Donna's face was so quick it conveyed her lack of attention to the restrictions.

Mom emphasized, "Carol, Julia and Ava get first dibs on Ron, Donna. They're his girlfriends and they go first. Even if you've got everyone's permission for you to have a turn one night, but Ava seems sad that night, Ron should cancel your fun so he can be with Ava. It'll be just like he's playing basketball with you: if one of his girlfriends needs him, he's going to stop goofing around with you to look after her. All right?"

"I know. THANK YOU, Mom! I'll be good, I promise..."

"Not so fast. When Ron's friend comes back next time, I'm going to ask it to tell me if you've ever broken any of the rules. If you do ANYTHING sexy with another boy, I'll find out about it. Even if you've just THOUGHT about it."

It's hard to imagine that there could be anything worse in the world than a strict mother with access to a mind reading alien. Mom gave Donna a second to appreciate that she REALLY would have to behave this time, then Mom added, "Do you still want to do it, or would you rather keep your thoughts private from me for another year?"

Even a person as impulsive as Donna knew that wasn't a question to be taken lightly. She thought about it for a couple of seconds, then smartly asked, "How long would I have to obey the rules? Just for a year, until my next birthday?"

"Don't you wish!" answered Mom. "Until you're of legal age, four birthdays away. UNLESS you impress us so much with your maturity that we relax the rules earlier, but it'll take you a long time to convince us of that. We're going to be watching you VERY closely and having some serious talks with you after your first few times, AND I'll be asking Ron's friend the next time it comes. You're very lucky that Carol has been so mature and responsible that she's made this possible for you, but you're a very different person and we won't hesitate to cancel this privilege if you even look like you're thinking about misbehaving."

There was never any doubt which way Donna would go, but Mom made her sweat over it first. Mothers are very good at that. Once Donna had made her choice and the necessary number of promises, we went up for breakfast.

Only once a month was terribly infrequent. That's only twelve times a year, and years are a LONG time, especially if having sex is as much fun as Donna had heard it was. After discussing it with the other girls, Donna decided to bust her hymen (this Donna still had it) and wait a couple of days for it to heal, so she could enjoy the first session as much as possible.

So three evenings later, an amusingly nervous Donna and I went to bed in the spare bed in the lower level of Mark's Wing.

In some respects it was an ironic experience. My heart wasn't really in it, which diminished my enjoyment a lot; but Donna's putting her heart into it was what I most wanted her not to do. I wanted Donna to treat sex like the goofing around that we used to do, so just for fun, to enjoy spending time together, give each other a bit of attention, and especially in ways that don't intrude on the rest of our lives. [I wrote that "we used to" goof around because I'd done virtually none of it with Donna since I'd turned up as Ron. I couldn't risk playing sports outside with her when the baddies might be watching how I moved, and my deliberately being clumsy would've annoyed Donna. Now she was busting a gut (or a hymen) to try an indoor sport.]

Our treating sex as a new goofing off activity was what I wanted Donna to think, but I couldn't think that way myself. I was too worried that Donna might turn into an immature nuisance the way she often had in 3B-land, and I was too aware of the parents looking over my shoulders, metaphorically speaking. Not only was I aware of my responsibility to Donna, but I was fully aware that the parents were aware of my responsibility too. It's funny how psychology works: if I'd seduced Donna in secret from the parents, that would've been exciting and nerve wracking, but taking her to bed with the full knowledge of the parents took nearly all the fun out of it. It's amazing how good parents are at ruining fun; they don't even have to be in the room at the time!

Although my taking my responsibility seriously diminished my enjoyment, I hid that from Donna. She had a great time. Because my mood doesn't suit doing so, I won't write any details about our evening. Long story short: I still did my usual routine of going down on the girl first and taking the time to learn my way around her buttons, and then spent a long time pushing them. Donna had come to bed with a whole lot of questions and ideas for things she wanted to try, but they got blown out of the water for the first couple of hours. Only after we'd calmed down did she remember to start asking her questions, by which time she already knew quite a few of the answers.

I actually enjoyed the cuddling and talking afterward more than the act itself. I enjoyed seeing her so happy, I enjoyed answering her questions in ways that I hoped would lead to more happiness in her future, especially if I could teach her not to get clingy about me and not to chase other guys for sex. Ideally Donna will just think sex is a great way to occasionally goof off with me, and she'll otherwise forget all about it. That hope of mine was off to a worrying start because Donna thought sex was FANTASTIC! She even said it was worth the long talk she'd have to have with Mom the next day - I'd have to have one of those too - which made me try even harder to dissuade her from 'goofing off' with anyone other than me. Feeling responsibility is such a damned nuisance it even forced me to say lots of things I knew Mom would approve of.

^

[Happily, Donna didn't get all mushy over me. She thought sex was GREAT!, but the idea of her being my girlfriend was silly. Besides, she was too busy with Patch to have a boyfriend.

Each subsequent month, usually on the exact anniversary of the first time although sometimes events delayed it a little, Donna was eager for more. She had a list of new things she wanted to try, plus favorites to repeat. She treated it as great fun, and never got clingy about it. She didn't like the "once a month" restriction, but everything else was perfect. She maintained such a good attitude that I relaxed and started enjoying myself more and more. It even got to the stage that I was looking forward to our sessions. It was impossible not to, seeing how much enjoyment Donna was getting from them, and seeing that there were no negative consequences in the rest of her life. Donna did not turn into a too-frequent pain, or any sort of pain at all. She'd matured in the intervening year, which I guess was only to be expected considering how traumatic some of it had been, plus living with Vanessa, Prof and Julia had effects too.

Bottom line: it worked out perfectly. We both had fun sex once a month, and Donna didn't seem to generalize how good it was with me to every other boy. Boys weren't on Donna's radar at all. She had two very clear priorities:

First - because she'd matured - clothes were more important than life or death. I know that, because Donna VERY frequently said, "I wouldn't be seen DEAD in that, Mom." Usually in response to Mom holding up something Donna had worn a year ago. Donna used to indiscriminately wear any pair of shorts and a T-shirt, but no longer. How quickly they grow up!

Second, Patch. We were all very happy that Donna's affections continued to be given to a gelding.]

^

Which takes me to the second thing Donna wanted to spend some of her money on (after clothes): another horse. "Company for Patch," Donna said. None of us had noticed that Patch was sad and lonely, but Donna assured us that he was.

Our usual family excuse of, "We can't afford it," had lost quite a lot of its credibility recently. Dad had a valid objection though, "We don't have enough land to keep two horses, Donna."

"Can we buy some from one of the neighbors?"

Saying "No" wouldn't have been particularly accurate. Dad said, "You've got enough money to buy some land if you want to, and we'll let you use it for something as sensible as that." (Donna's money was in a trust that required Mom and Dad's consent for Donna to remove more than a very small amount.) "Is it important enough for you to spend your own money on it?"

It was for a HORSE! Donna gave Dad an "Are you crazy!" look, but managed to restrict herself to just saying, "Of course." (She hadn't yet asked how much the land would cost, but it was for a HORSE!).

We have a neighbor to our west whose house and property are very similar to our own. Paying a couple of million to give a horse grass to eat was somewhat excessive, even for "a HORSE!"

To our south was a large farmer's field (about four times larger than our property), and to our east another but much smaller field (about two-thirds the size of our property). For what Donna wanted, the small field would be ideal. It was small for a farmer's field because it was on the inside corner of the road curving south, so it wasn't as efficient as the large rectangular fields. Both fields were planted with broccoli and were owned by the same farmer.

We'd dealt with him when we first moved in, to get permission to cut down some of the bigger trees just outside our southern boundary. He'd been amenable then and he was even more so now, because everybody in town thought we were wonderful people (apart from the few haters - there's always some - that were ignorable). He didn't have a residence on Peoria Road, but he'd still scored $25,000 because he lived within five miles of the bridges.

He agreed to sell to Donna - Mom and Dad had taken Donna with them, as it'd be one of those educational experience things for her - but he said that even with all the help we could give it, it'd still take several months for grass to establish itself well enough to carry a couple of horses.

Donna wanted the horse NOW, if not before, while Mom and Dad worried about Donna's losing interest in horses entirely once she got into boys. That surely couldn't be too far away, considering how much she'd enjoyed sex with me.

The farmer knew a thing or two about horses because his daughter had been like Donna about ten years ago. He suggested two horses could be kept on our existing property if we supplemented their feed for a few months until the new field was capable of carrying them. And he suggested the new field be rented rather than bought, so when Donna outgrew horses she could simply return the land to the farmer.

Mom and Dad agreed with his first suggestion - Donna didn't give them much choice about that - but decided to buy the field rather than rent it. Maybe one day it might be a good idea to add it to our existing property, or it could be sold off on the open market. Most likely though, the way things were unfolding, was that we might have to build on it. An office if business took off, and/or a place for a permanent security force to live, if it looked like we'd need them permanently. We still had hired guards patrolling our property and we weren't in any hurry to get rid of them because they were being kept busy rejecting media and random strangers, some of whom were worryingly random and strange.

Mom and Dad took care of the process of valuing the land and the crops that'd be plowed under - performing a social service, given my opinion of broccoli. Donna knew her trust fund was increasing by half a million dollars per month, so she didn't care how much the land cost; it was chickenfeed to her (and horsefeed to Patch). Donna concentrated her energies on finding a friend for Patch.

Donna found several candidates that met her various criteria (well-trained, healthy, in the right age group, and other horsy issues). She had each of them spend a trial period with Patch to see how they got along. Donna watched very intently, to see 'who' Patch liked the most. It turned out to be a mare. Somewhat smaller than Patch and very bossy, but Patch seemed to like her. Donna didn't like the mare's existing name, so she changed it to Penelope (I'd been too chicken to suggest "Julia").

Mom and Dad put Donna in charge of paying all the bills for her new property, getting it ready to support horses, and all the costs of feeding and caring for Patch and Penelope. Oops, make that "Penelope and Patch" (Penelope always insists on going first). Donna was writing out some pretty big checks for a 14-year old.


I mentioned above that almost everybody in town loved us. It wasn't just in town, but Benton County and the comparatively few Linn County residents that lived within a five-mile half-circle of the bridges into Corvallis. Each Benton County residence got a credit of $25,000; more or less, depending on which local government's jurisdiction they resided in. In Linn County, they got exactly that amount, as they were being paid directly by the Federal Government. There'd be a very large number of Benton County refund checks going out shortly. We'd done it so the refund wasn't proportional to their property value, so everyone would get much the same amount, proportionally benefiting the poor and medium-income families the most. If the Mom and Dad of a couple of years ago had gotten an unexpected $25,000 check, they'd have burst from happiness, so it was just as well the emergency services were getting new ambulances.

The Mayor of Corvallis and assorted other councilors from the various local governments had booked an en masse meeting with the Anderson parents - as it'd formally been Mom and Dad's lawsuit without any Williams legal involvement - to thank them. I begged the parents not to allow any stupid statues for me (as Mark), or other immodest displays, then happily avoided the meeting.

Each of the local governments was required to pay out at least 75% of their money, so they could retain 25% for their own plans. The councilors were feeling very appreciative, and wanted to show it.

Corvallis had received an additional $350,000; $250,000 from the President, $50,000 each from the DHS and CIA heads, but that was meant to used for some sort of "memorial to apologize for governmental and presidential treachery toward its citizens." [[The DHS and CIA bosses had their payments VERY quietly reimbursed by the Government as soon as the media attention diminished. The Government had apparently felt it was unreasonable to hold its employees financially accountable for their decisions. That was clearly a dangerous precedent, and was in no way comparable to the laws the Government had passed holding company directors personally accountable for their decisions.]]

Fortunately, the parents were very insistent that they didn't want the "appreciations" to be about them, or even about Mark much. He could be mentioned, but they wanted the memorial to be a reminder of the evil that Government's could do if not supervised closely. They also didn't want it to be expensive; costing far less than $350,000.

Vanessa suggested that they hold a nationwide contest asking people to submit designs for the memorial. Vanessa could write up a design brief, and also provide the prize: a free round trip anywhere in the world in her new jet for as many people as it'd hold, plus $10,000 cash. (Vanessa hadn't finalized her choice of jet yet, but she knew it was going to be a damned good one.) The Government would be paying for the gas too, which ironically meant they'd be paying most of the cost of a prize for someone creating the best anti-government memorial. Vanessa's idea would generate several waves of publicity, which suited her nicely.

The mayor and councilors left happy.

Particularly happy were the residents of SE Peoria Road, as each residential property owner got $125,000. If we'd chosen, we wouldn't have given them that much, but that'd been the way the Government's increasing offers had worked out and it hadn't been politic for us to interfere with it, especially not to reduce the payments. They, especially our immediate neighbor, had been significantly annoyed by the congestion on our road and the throng camping out on the verge, so some of the $125,000 was deserved.

There were a FEW local residents who weren't happy with us - not many, but some:

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