Aftermath
Chapter 8

Copyright© 2013 by Frostfyre

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 8 - What ever happened to Char and the other survivors of Quay? This story is the sequel to Acceptance.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/Fa   Fa/ft   Hermaphrodite   Science Fiction   Mother   Daughter   Harem   Black Female   Oriental Female   Hispanic Female   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Pregnancy   Science fiction adult story, sci-fi adult story, science-fiction sex story, sci-fi sex story

Armed with big knives and strong misgivings, I drove us to the meeting site that Professor Richardson had given us directions to. The long drive down three dirt roads was less than reassuring, but I supposed an ancient wilderness survival course could not be held in the tamed woods beside a major road. Our destination was in a forest bordering a large field. There was a small house with a modern-looking steel windmill attached on the far side of the field, but I strongly suspected we would not be going into it. I shuddered at the thought of crawling around in the woods for three days without a shower. Granted, on Quay we had gone a month with only occasional sketchy, ice-cold rubdowns, but that experience had served to make my desire to always be clean even stronger. Absence makes the heart grow fonder is very true when it comes to hot showers!

The worst part of the drive for me was looking over and seeing the dignified ex-lawyer bouncing with excitement. If the neat-freak Meredith could get so excited about camping in the woods without modern amenities, how dare I do anything that might ruin it for her? As we pulled in, a man came out to greet us, presumably Professor Richardson. He was a tall, thin man who was dressed casually in hiking boots, jeans and a green tee shirt. His long brown hair was tied back with a thin strip of rawhide. I was secretly thrilled when his polite smile of greeting changed as he got a good look at the two gorgeous people getting out of the car to greet him. He was not quite drooling, but he was damn close. It was interesting to see that his eyes seemed to linger on Meredith's face, and cleavage, much longer than on mine. I had to give him credit though, he tried his best not to stare at either of us for too long or too openly. It was an interesting reversal for the tall, black woman to get stared at, while the sexy blonde with bigger boobs and longer hair was all but ignored. Meredith immediately noticed where the lion's (loin's?) share of his attention was going and preened.

Seeing how happy Meredith looked from being on the receiving end of his attention, I did my best to fade into the background. Since we were supposed to be two students looking for some training, I had no problem letting her take the lead. She shot me a surprised glance when I did not speak up, so I gestured for her to take over.

Shaking his hand, Meredith gave him a bright smile and said, "Hello, my name's Meredith and this is my ... friend, Charlotte." Meredith had hesitated a second over what to call me, but it was pretty obvious that the professor had other things on his mind. Two other things to be precise. Both of which were tenting the front of Meredith's shirt. Neither of us had worn undergarments, since that was typical of girls these days. Bras and panties were just more things to rip off when you were in a hurry to strip at a pickup. Besides, it was a turn on for most girls to be able to get every guy's eyes to immediately lock onto the motion in their shirt every time they made the slightest movement.

We had decided to use my oldest name, since Char was an odd name for a woman. Since I had decided to keep my female appearance for the time being, I needed a name that fit. We did not want to attract any more attention than our unusual request already had.

"I am Professor Richardson, but please call me Paul," he responded, almost forgetting to let go of Meredith's hand. His handshake with me was strong but perfunctory, and he quickly refocused on Meredith, much to my amusement.

I was more amused than disgruntled that his lectures and explanations were more and more addressed to Meredith's boobs than anywhere else. It was a little surprising though. It had been my experience growing up that teachers ignored any amount of female flesh on display and maintained a professional demeanor at all times. Granted, I had gotten out of college not long after the President's announcement, so things had probably changed in the last two or three years. Also, Meredith was doing everything possible to keep his gaze fixed on her chest. Between leaning back frequently, stretching her arms over her head, taking deep breaths that stretched her shirt tight, and leaning forward to give him an unobstructed view of the goodies in her shirt, his attention rarely wandered.

"First things first. Please put any watches or electronics in your car. We are going native and the only way to tell time will be the sun," he said. I obviously could not mention or leave behind my implanted AI link, so I was only as cut off as I choose to be. He then showed us how to roughly tell time in the morning and evening by how many finger widths above the horizon the sun was. Of course, this only told us how long it had been since sunrise or how long it was until sunset.

I was a little dubious about the professor's actual qualifications at first. We started off with some hoo-rah nature hippy stuff. Then he told us the story of the circle of life in terms of a primitive tribe, comparing each age group to a different compass direction. The story started with a newborn being North and circled though every age group and their responsibilities until it came to death in old age. Then he wrote down a bunch of plant and animal names on scraps of paper and tossed them into a wooden bowl. After we described ourselves, we each pulled out a scrap of paper to see what "the spirits" had decreed our totem animals to be. Of course, each of our lists of personal attributes and experiences had to end at college age. Mine were still pretty fresh, since I had only been out of college about a year and a half now. Poor Meredith had to remember back several decades. I laughed to myself at the thought of how he would react to knowing the boobs he was drooling over had been on the Earth for about a decade and a half longer than he had been.

After the whole spirit totem thing was finished, he had us sit in the field doing a meditation exercise where we changed the focus of our eyes. It was supposed to make us more in tune with nature by noticing motion more instead of focusing solely on what was in front of us. All the exercise did for me was to make my legs fall asleep from sitting in one position too long, give me a headache, and make me notice just exactly how many damn creepy crawlies there really were in the grass around me. I really hate bugs, spiders and pretty much anything tiny with too many legs. Butterflies, dragonflies and praying mantises were some of the only exceptions. Of course, crayfish, crabs and lobsters I was fine with, even in the wild, so size was definitely an aspect to my aversion.

We finally moved on to practical stuff. First, he taught us how to make a real survival shelter. I had always kind of assumed it would be some type of lean-to to keep the rain off like in the movies. I was wrong. The actual shelter we built was very different. First we found two trees that had splits about three feet off the ground that were fairly close together. Then, we put a thin, branchless tree we had pushed over across the distance to act as a center pole for our shelter. Next, we piled leaves under it until they were about two feet deep. After that, we scoured the area for branches that we lined the tree trunk with until there was only a tiny opening left for us to crawl through to get in. Finally, we piled leaves on top as insulation until we could stick our entire arm into the leaves without touching the wood. Then we could cover it with pine boughs to keep the leaves in place and make it even more waterproof. Professor Richardson assured us that the shelter would be waterproof and would keep us plenty warm at night. We even used a stick to dig a trench around it just in case it rained so all the runoff would go around our shelter. I was actually pretty impressed with our shelter when we were done. It was back-breaking work, although with our enhancements it was not too bad. We did have to be careful to break the larger branches out of his sight so he would not be clued in to how strong we really were.

The shelter was surprisingly sturdy, unlike a lean-to. He pointed to several mounts of leaves scattered through the forest, and I realized they were shelters built by other students. Some of the shelters were years old but still fairly intact. Granted, they were filled with rotting leaves, spiders and whatever the spiders fed on, but they could be used in an emergency. Personally, I think I would have taken my chances with the elements rather than crawl into one of those old shelters, but that was just me.

The professor was surprised at how quickly we finished. Although 'quickly' is relative since it took a few hours to gather all the leaves and sticks. For our next piece of educational fun, he gave us wedge shaped shards of granite and told us to pick out a sapling and saw it down. Welcome to the Stone Age. Even with our strength, it takes a long time to saw through a two inch diameter tree with the rough edge of a rock. We were not allowed to just break it, the sawn edge had to be smooth, not splintered. Thankfully, after we finished that task and rubbed feeling back into our fingers, he let us make the rest of the cuts on the tree with our nice steel knives. The roughly elbow-to-fingertip length sapling section would be the 'bow' for our 'bow and drill' to make the fire for tonight. We could not start cooking dinner until we finished making the bow and drill and actually successfully lighted a fire. He showed us the primitive way of doing each step, then let us cheat with modern materials.

For example, he had us braid the long fibers from inside dried milk weed into a surprisingly tough cord, which the ancients would have used as rope for the bow and drill. After we had each braided a few feet, he stopped us and allowed us to use normal string on the bow. He also allowed us to use our knives to carve the drill, which was just an inch thick, eight-inch-long section of the upper part of our sapling. One end got a blunt tip, which was the friction end, the other got a more pointed end. That end would go into a small block of wood we would use to press down on the drill to increase friction. The final piece was the actual section of wood we would heat up. We used a relatively flat, axe-split section of a tree trunk and carved a small bowl on the edge, with a tiny wedge cut out of the outer edge.

I had no idea making fire was so difficult. After we had finished carving all the pieces and stringing the bow correctly so the string wrapped around the drill tight enough to turn it, but not too tight, we actually had to make the fire. Using a bow and drill is extremely awkward. With one hand, you are holding a block of wood pressing it down hard onto the top of a rotating rod. With the other hand, you are moving the bow in a back and forth lateral motion as fast as you can to get the rod spinning as the string spins it one way then the other as you move the bow. It's a very tricky balancing act! You wind up either going fast and hard with the drill twisting out of position quickly, or you go slow and steady but do not build up any appreciable heat from friction. That's assuming the platform itself does not twist away.

After about half an hour of frustration trying to each do it solo, Meredith and I teamed up. She held one end of the bow and pressed the block of wood down on top of the drill, while I held the other end of the bow and steadied the platform. We had smoke and a glowing ember in the notch cut in the platform in less than five minutes. The ember was transferred to some punk, dried grass and tiny twigs, which we carefully nursed into a small fire that we carried by hand to the unlit campfire the professor had set up. I got a ridiculous sense of accomplishment watching the flames leap up. It made the blisters worth it.

Once we got the fire going, we started carving our spoons. Those would be the only eating utensil we were allowed. We slowly carved flat pieces of wood that were roughly eight inches long, by an inch wide and half an inch thick into the shape of a spoon. By the time we were done, there were some nice, red-hot coals at the bottom of the fire. Using fresh-cut, green, forked sticks, we fished coals out of the fire and put them on the wide end of the spoon to burn out a bowl. We then went back to our granite shards to scrape away the charred wood. Rinse and repeat until there was a nice indentation on the wide end. It took a while, but when we were done, we had decent wooden spoons.

Awesome, we had something to eat with. Of course, now we needed something to eat out of. The professor, Paul, gave each of us disks of wood. They were sections of tree trunks about seven inches in diameter and about four inches thick with the bark stripped off. Using the same technique as we used to make the spoons, we burned out the center of the wood to form bowls. Of course, that took a long time, so we would alternate fetching wood for the fire while the other watched our bowls smolder.

Thankfully, Paul provided dinner. He set up a wooden tripod, held together with strips of tanned leather. A hand-braided rope hung down to a wooden hook that suspended the cast-iron pot over the fire. He made a delicious stew for us. Dinner was actually really enjoyable and we were able to finally relax after our long, hard day. Thankfully, we had scraped off enough char that there was only a slight smoky flavor to the food and neither of us got splinters from our spoons.

As had become the norm for the day, Paul hovered beside Meredith and chatted with her, his eyes firmly locked on her erect nipples. Adding a modern touch, we had s'mores after dinner with Paul and Meredith almost leaning against each other. It was easy to tell that Meredith loved the attention, and I tried very hard not to feel left out or jealous.

While we were eating dessert, Paul told us a few more Indian legends. One was a variation on the scorpion and the frog story, one was a creation myth, and the last was a story about Spider and Coyote. They were moderately interesting, and Paul was a decent story-teller. The last thing he did that night was teach us the basics of celestial navigation. Which is a fancy way of saying how to use the stars as guides. Obviously, it was useless info for us, since we would probably never return to Earth again, but the idea of how to pick out stars in advance to determine direction was a smart idea. Hopefully Frigia would have something like the North Star. The same held true for using a sextant to determine latitude.

After those lessons, Paul watched with rapt attention as Meredith braided my hair. There was no way I was going to sleep on a pile of leaves with my hair unbraided. It would become hopelessly tangled with the leaves and debris inside the shelter. Not to mention how hard it would be to crawl in and out of the shelter with it hanging loose and spread all over the place snagging on everything. When she was done and the conversation died away, he excused himself and headed off to his warm, clean bed in the nearby house. Privately, I suspected he would be making friends with one of his hands thinking about Meredith's tits. Of course, her tits were well worth thinking about, being a perfect size, chocolate-colored with black nipples that he was given quite a few glimpses of. Thoughts like those would not lead to bonding conversation, "just" wonderful sex, so I regretfully put them aside.

Since I was planning to learn more about Meredith, hopefully to strengthen our bonds even further, I thought about questions I could ask to get her talking. I was curious why she had become a lawyer, why she had given it up to become a mother, and why she had decided to become a concubine. I had been an outcast, disliked by most of my co-workers, living a partial lie; one who had nothing to lose and everything to gain by acceptance as a concubine. Meredith, however, had been rich, lived in luxury and even had servants. Concubine seemed like a long way down the social ladder for her, but she had fit in pretty well. As far as I could tell, the only thing she had not liked about being a concubine had been being put in charge of the rest of us. She really wanted to someone else to be in charge and was thrilled when I had taken over.

"Did you enjoy being a lawyer?" I finally asked. Given how much they were disliked and bad-mouthed, I was curious to see what she thought of it.

"I used to really enjoy it, Master," she responded. "I specialized in sex crimes, and represented women who had the courage to stand up against the men who attacked or abused them. It was thrilling and deeply rewarding, putting away monsters like that. But not every woman actually was the victim, and later, sometimes years later, I would find out the man was innocent. The combination of occasionally losing cases and watching monsters walk free, and finding out a case I won had put an innocent man into prison wore at me. I finally gave up the fame and power to become a mother."

Meredith trailed off. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to finish. "The straw the finally broke me was a letter I received from a woman I had helped a few months earlier. She had been horribly abused. When the cops found her, she had several broken ribs and a broken arm. She was covered with bruises and cigarette burns of varying ages, clearly showing long-term abuse. I had felt great when I got the bastard that had done that to her locked up for decades. Only she had faked it all. In the letter, she wrote how she had burned herself for months to get scars of varying ages and had hired some kid to beat her up several times to get a nice layering of bruises. She said she was really enjoying spending the man's money on the tropical island she had moved to and thanked me for being so easily duped and so savage in the courtroom."

After a pause, Meredith continued, tears sliding unheeded down her face, "You can imagine my shock and horror when I read the letter. I had seen her body and seen how much damage had been done to it! I simply could not conceive what kind of sick, vindictive mind would go to those extremes just to put an innocent man in prison in order to steal his money. I immediately went to the courthouse and filed a motion for the case to be dismissed, entering the letter as evidence. I was desperate to undo the terrible mistake I had made. But it was too late. The innocent man had been killed in prison two days earlier and it was my fault. I never set foot in a courtroom after that."

I wrapped my arms around Meredith and let her cry on my shoulder. I was shocked to the core at what she had revealed to me. No wonder she had given up being a lawyer and buried herself inside her home. Hell, I was crying just from hearing her story, I could not imagine how shattering it must have been for her. Now it made sense why she had become a concubine. She did not want to be put in a position where she could get someone else hurt. It was also atonement for what she had done.

After Meredith had calmed down, we crawled into our shelter. It was a tight fit, but was surprisingly warm and the leaves were deep enough to be fairly comfortable. I hoped and prayed the sonic device the AI had replicated to drive off all the creepy crawlies was working. It would be bad enough getting all the debris out of my long-ass hair. I had gotten used to having hair down to my knees, but nights like this made me fondly remember my military-style haircut that I had when I was Charles. Oh well, I would have plenty of volunteers to comb it out a few days hence when this 'adventure' was over.

We decided to spoon, since we would have a little more room that way and it would be warmer. I was a bit surprised that when I wrapped my arms around Meredith, I immediately got a serious erection. She started slightly when it pressed against her ass. Between our tiredness, my dread of bugs, Meredith's emotional story and just being in an unfamiliar area I was surprised how horny I got the moment I touched her.

"Master," Meredith sighed, "please don't hesitate. I want you so badly!"

Thrilled, I reached down and awkwardly undid my pants. It took some serious wiggling to get them down far enough for my cock to be completely freed. While I did that, Meredith did a similar wiggle to get her pants down far enough for me to access her pussy. By the time we were done and back in the spooning position, her pussy was extremely wet and I had no trouble working my way into her body. After I was fully inside her, I slid one hand up into her shirt and the other one under her head and down the front of her shirt. I happily filled my hands with the firm black breasts that had occupied so much of Paul's attention. I alternated stroking her breasts and teasing her nipples while my cock slid in and out of her pussy. We started off slowly and gently, just glorying in being together. I twisted my upper body back and forth a little, rubbing my sensitive nipples against Meredith's back. The crackling and rustle of the leaves we were laying on was distracting at first, but before long, passion overwhelmed us, and we only noticed each other's bodies. The feeling of my cock slowly sliding in and out of her newly tightened pussy was incredible. The nanites had done a wonderful job tightening Meredith up after she had Steve's baby. I looked forward to when I would be able to get her pregnant.

"Oh God, that feels so good Master," Meredith moaned as I thrust into her. I was a little embarrassed, and hoped Paul was too far away to hear her moans. I was a little surprised how often she used the word master. She did not normally call me that. Maybe having her play lead today made her feel a little insecure and she wanted the reassurance of being owned.

Feeling naughty, I pulled one hand out of her shirt, wet my finger with spit and slid it down between us. With my other fingers, I spread her butt cheeks open and I rubbed the wet finger against her asshole. My hand made the trip a few times before her asshole was wet enough for me to slide a finger up her ass. Meredith moaned at the intrusion and quickly had her first orgasm as I fucked her pussy and finger-fucked her asshole. I loved feeling my cock sliding in and out of her through the thin membrane separating her pussy and ass.

"Do you mind if I put in something a little bigger back there love?" I whispered teasingly.

"Actually, I'm hoping you plan on shoving something MUCH bigger in back there," she whispered back in a very slutty tone of voice.

Laughing, I sped up my thrusts into her pussy, while whispering dirty comments about what I wanted to do to her ass. The combined assault on her nether parts and her dirty mind quickly had her cumming again. After she came down from her orgasm, I slipped my finger out of her ass and my cock out of her pussy. Going back and forth with my finger between her juicy pussy and her asshole, I quickly had her ass thoroughly lubed up. I rubbed some of my pussy juice on my cock to lube it up and quickly pressed the head of my cock against her asshole. After my cock popped through her ass's initial resistance, I held still for a minute while she adjusted to the intrusion. Knowing her nanites would prevent any infection, I slipped my cock out of her ass and back into her pussy to lube it up again. She always loved when I did that. I went back and forth from her pussy to her ass several times, going deeper up her ass each time until my entire cock was completely buried up her ass.

 
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