You're Not Going Anywhere, and You're Not Coming Back
Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, BiSexual, Post Apocalypse, MaleDom, Spanking, Polygamy/Polyamory, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Lactation, Pregnancy, Violent,
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Watch Jack survive as the world around him is changed to wipe out all remnants of civilization by unknown beings. There is no apocalypse, no dark ages. He is one of the very few allowed to "go camping" in the new world, to live life and carry on. Slow to start. Feedback more than welcome. Many of the codes are for future chapters, like I said, slow to start! A pot has to heat up before it boils.
Yet, I had to be standing on something. My feet were flat on something. A nearly subconscious curl of my toes told me almost nothing. Not rough but not hard or slick. Body temperature and totally innocuous. I could see myself, as naked as the day I was born, not even my watch or wedding band but there was nothing else there. Still, somehow, I knew, just like there was something beneath me, there were also walls and a ceiling surrounding me. Just a room so devoid and bland that there was nothing left.
The strangest thing though was that I wasn't perturbed. Like taking a whole bottle of anti-anxiety pills, I knew I should be freaking out; hell a second ago I was standing in my back yard talking to my wife while my son played in his sandbox five feet away. Instead all there was was calm, inquisitive clarity. "I must have just died." I thought to myself. I knew the thought should have caused me concern. It didn't. A quick flicker of intellectualized condolences for my wife and son and
"YOU'RE NOT DEAD."
Softly rang through my mind. It wasn't heard, it didn't have a voice, it just was.
"YOU'RE GOING ... CAMPING."
"Like tent and sleeping bag, sleeping in the woods kind of thing?" I thought out-loud.
"IF YOU'D LIKE."
A different thought. A different source. There must be more than one person? Thing? What was this? Before the anxiety could build, it crashed like a wave back into the serene non-feeling of a few seconds before.
"JUST PACK WHAT YOU WANT TO TAKE AND GO." The first Big voice intoned.
"Pack what? There's nothing here!" I was still naked as a newborn and there was still just that white nothingness surrounding me.
"Just visualize whatever equipment you want and it will be there for you" came from Small voice.
"Where am I going? How am I getting there? Am I taking the car? Just me? How long am I gone for?..."
"TOO MANY QUESTIONS!" – I could feel Big voice's irritation and Small voice tittering.
"He is more inquisitive than most of the others isn't he?" I don't know if this was directed at me or if I was hearing one side of a conversation between the two but I already liked the second Small voice better.
"You're going to need to pack up whatever you think you would need to live if you were going camping somewhere. It's alright, just visualize what you would want to take and it will be there for you to take."
Then, like I was again hearing the conversation through Small voice's head, I could hear Big voice, muffled and angry "WHY DOESN'T HE JUST TAKE SOME THINGS AND LEAVE LIKE THE OTHERS!?!"
Then more clearly and clearly directed at me;
"YOU'RE NOT TRAVELLING ANYWHERE. AND YOU'RE NOT COMING BACK."
I knew that somehow wasn't right, wasn't the whole truth and wasn't natural. Dread, nausea, bile, anxiety again reared their heads, nearly overwhelming me for all of an eye blink before then crashed into the vast sea of, by now obviously unnatural, manufactured, serenity.
I sat down and started to think about packing. Packing for camping. "Camping my ass" I thought. I somehow knew (and knew that the thought was aided, if not out-rightly planted, by Small voice) that what I packed now would need to cover all my needs. I had to be thoughtful, insightful and lucky if I was going to be prepared. Would I need to travel, I'm sure I would have to hunt, food to tide me over until I found my own, I would need clothes for all weather and things to keep me occupied. A place to sleep! I wasn't a survival guy, my version of camping involved tents, cars and copious amounts of alcohol! I didn't want more than I could take with me (and I somehow knew I couldn't only pack what I could carry, again thanks Small voice). But a sled to pull along behind me? Yes, that would be fine apparently.
I guess I could have visualized up a survival book and sat down to read an equipment sheet but I could sense Big Voice's continued ire. I didn't want to take all day (or night or whatever this was). I did visualize some books though. Just a thought of "I need some wilderness survival books" and The Settlers Guide, Edible Wild Plants, A Field Guide to Wilderness Survival and Primitive Wilderness Living appeared beside me. My new rainy day reading...
Next came a good pack and then I thought hard about a sled. Something like what artic adventurers used, a plastic toboggan that I could pull but with a removable waterproof top. And then, there it was, beside me. More like a waterproof Thule than anything else. It would hold a lot and be fairly easy to pull regardless of weight.
Clothes next. It was summer when I was whisked away but I was mindful I wasn't coming back. Whether that meant I wasn't going back to the same time or I wasn't coming back from the journey it didn't matter, winter clothes were more important than summer. A wool toque, a scarf and pair of ski goggles, thick leather work gloves, fleece liners and outer mitts, two pairs of thick, heavy duty Carhartt work pants, good heavy duty boots and gaiters, some shirts, merino wool long underwear, waterproof winter hunting overalls and parka, a few pairs of good wool socks, some underwear, a pair of lighter weight convertible pants (the type that zip into shorts), a fleece, a big floppy boony hat and a lightweight rain jacket and pants meant my clothing needs were more than met. And a towel, I've read enough Hitchhikers Guide to know to always bring your towel! After getting dressed, half of the remainder went in the pack and the rest in the sled.
A top of the line, dark green, lightweight, expedition quality two man tent popped into existence next, quickly followed by a sleeping bag and inflatable mattress, two heavy duty tarps, one large and one smaller. I was shocked at how small and light the tent and sleeping bags were. Certainly different than my car camping days! Some good climbing rope, some poly and nylon utility rope, lots of thin, strong spectra rope and a couple of rolls of twine came to mind and to my side next.
My mind then turned to food. I couldn't carry enough food to feed me past much more than a week but I was still going to have to bring some food until I could find or kill my own. Plus I had to cook it! A big stainless pot might be big but I could fill it with things so it didn't really take up too much space. Plus it and its lid weren't that heavy. The cast iron frying pan was though! It would last longer than me, even on an open fire and would be indispensable though. A mental plate, cup and bowl, fork, knife and some spoons were next along with a water skin and a big double ended hook to hang the pot over a fire. As for actual food, a few sticks (about 3-4 lbs) of biltong (South African jerky but so so much better) would last for months but would be in my belly faster than that. A big box of energy bars, four of those huge chocolate bars you get at airport duty frees, a large ziplock bag of mixed dried fruit, a kilo of rolled oats for porridge and another of dry roasted almonds would mean that I wasn't going to starve right away. Then inspiration struck and a big container of multi-vitamins, a big jar of instant coffee and a couple kilos of salt and a big jar of pink salt appeared next to me. If I killed something bigger than I could eat in a short space of time I could cure it!
It was a lot of stuff already but I still had lots of room. I would need it for tools. A good woodsman's axe, hatchet, camp knife and folding shovel appeared in my mind and in my hands next. A chisel, file, whetstone and strop appeared next to them. Another pensive thought and a stout Kukri knife, skinning knife and folding saw were added to the pile. The saw was a good idea. Maybe there would come a point in time where I could make a shelter big enough that a real saw like you saw in those lumberjack competitions would be a big help, saving me days of labour. It was a tight fit in the sled but the saw wasn't that heavy and could be a one or two person one. You could make a house with it. I thought to myself that I might end up making a house with it!
Those were passive tools. I suppose I was going to need aggressive ones too. I have never been a hunter or really a gun person in general but like most guys I've watched my fair share of action movies and youtube videos. Would it make any sense to have a gun after you ran out of ammunition? A good bow, not a compound, if it broke I wouldn't be able to fix it. About 25 arrows plus a box of arrow heads and an envelope full of feathers for new ones I may make. Good and reusable. A Fairbairn dagger popped into existence next, the Kukri might be intimidating and lethal but it was big and I could hide or strap the Fairbairn anywhere and like the sword in Kill Bill, "If on your journey, you should encounter God, God will be cut." Evil little thing. I had wanted one since I was a kid reading WWII novels and I had a feeling it would be strapped to the inside of my left forearm or at least never outside my reach from here on out.
Then my dad telling me to not bring a knife to a gun fight popped into my mind. I might not need one often if I became a good trapper or proficient with the bow but it would be hard to beat a gun, or two. There was a reason people used guns when hunting. Bears, wolves, ducks are all better to shoot with a gun than an arrow. And then there were the "others" that Big voice talked about. I have lots, if there are others with less and want to take what's mine, well guns would be better for that as well.
A good hunting rifle, able to take down deer and other biggish animals was the 1st one. A .308 would be perfect for that. A shotgun sprang to mind as well. Good for ducks, wild dogs or wolves and the "other" defensive need. I wanted one of those recoilless ones that crazy Russian demonstrated on that youtube video someone had sent me. Fully automatic, never needed cleaning and could go underwater. An AA-12 looking like it came right out of a sci-fi movie with its huge drum magazine popped into my hands. Lastly, they're small and light and so is the ammo. A little, accurate .22 survival rifle would be perfect for racoons or other small animals plus they are quiet. One of those Ruger .22 handguns where the whole thing is like one big suppressor would be useful as well, silent, somewhat intimidating and something I could always have on me. Plus it shared the ammunition with the little rifle. A cleaning kit(and instruction manual, I had no idea how to clean them other than the fact I needed to) and some ammo. The ammunition was pretty heavy, the 2 boxes of 100 rounds of .308 was about the same weight as my tent! Probably just under 10lbs. The one box of 100 12 gauge buckshot shells weighed as much as the two boxes of rifle ammunition! Then again 1000 rounds of .22 weighed less than the shotgun shells ... I guess I was going to be eating a lot of squirrel!
I felt safe, clothed and fed. I thought of some odds and ends, one of those solar powered watches with a calendar, a pencil, a tooth brush and tooth paste, straight razor, a stainless steel mirror, a good pair of scissors, tweezers, a bunch of ziplock bags, a box of waterproof matches, a few bars of soap regular and anti-bacterial, a bottle of betadine, some bandaids and sterile bandages and gauze, hermetically sealed surgical scissors, clamp and forceps. Some different types of needles and thread plus some surgical suturing thread. A four of those little foil emergency survival blankets, wax fire starter, a pack of playing cards, two magnesium flints to start a fire, a leatherman and four rolls of duct tape. Lastly a roll of tp. There might come a day I had to wipe my ass with a leaf but I couldn't quite face it yet. All told the sled weighed the most, probably about 140lbs, the pack coming in around 45lbs.
I stood up after packing the last of it away, sighed and closed my eyes, suddenly totally spent and left wondering what was next. In the darkness behind my eyelids I heard Small voice telling me I had done a good job and that she had made sure that I would enjoy parts of this. I could feel rather than hear Big voice's "Humph" and then again, hearing things it seemed like through Small voice's ears "YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE CHANGED HIM LIKE THAT".
I opened my eyes and looked around. I was back in my back yard; it seemed like seconds after I left. The weather was the same, the time of day the same. I was back in my backyard, but it wasn't anymore. There was no house to be the back of ... The trees were there, the flowers, our tomatoes and zucchini plants were there. But where our house had been was now just flat grass. Where our neighbour's house has been; flat grass. The fence and the street? Flat grass.
Other than me, my pack and sled, there was no one else and nothing man made anywhere. The only sounds were the breeze and a cicada off in the distance. Our front garden, obviously not natural to the surroundings was exactly like it had always looked, but the stone surround we had edged it with was gone. Wherever there had been a manmade thing, now there was just grass. My wife was gone, everyone was gone.
I didn't go anywhere but I wasn't coming back.
I walked the few feet over to where seconds?minutes?years?a lifetime? before, my son had sat, playing in his sandbox. I sat down beside where he had been, reached out to the nothingness that would have been his knee and wept.