Chapter 1

[Readers in or from other planetary systems – or even other universes – of this official record of events may be wondering what the Flake happened, but we assure you that this is ... mostly typical for our world, our universe. It has also come to our attention that other ... administrative bodies require official reports in a more ... regimented fashion ... removing virtually all ability to adequately document human events, humans being far from regimented and, in fact, quite messy. Additionally, for those civilizations using non-metric clocks, you should look up the advantages of such (metric-timeDOTcom).]

Daymon Strand

24 Argentis 1947, 04:52 local

“Daymon! You’ve got a Visitor!”

Lying on his belly on his bed in his room, a semi-salacious book in his hand, Daymon frowned in confusion, particularly given the obvious capital letter, as he thought, “Who could that be?”

Despite his confusion, he was too well-trained to leave a guest hanging, so he clumped – despite his barefootedness – out of his room, down the hall, and into the living room ... where his eyes bugged out and his mind failed him, gibbering in an odd mix of confusion, surprise, and ... lust. His tallywacker did not pass go nor collect two hundred dinaris but went straight (pun intended) across the board to the full-fledged iron bar one might find in an incarceration room. If his mind had been remotely close to working rather than sliding on frictionless ice, he might have thought, “Why is there a naked girl in our living room?” It might even have managed, “Why is there a gorgeous naked girl in our living room,” or, possibly, if it were working with very high efficiency, “Who changed the gravitational constant of the universe?”

[Well, no, that’s a different universe altogether, a universe only mostly ridiculous.]

However, none of that has any bearing here, as the brain of the strapping youth with relatively rugged countenance for one so young, black hair, and dark eyes that had just latched onto a stunning naked girl hurtled toward the thin ice shortly before the open water.

The naked girl in question ... The gorgeous naked girl in question was more than sufficiently experienced to understand what she saw of her new charge, Daymon, and was not in the least surprised to take in his staring eyes, his open-and-drooling mouth, and the bulge ... the sizable bulge in his pants.

“My, oh, my. This one might be much better than the last one.”

“Daymon! Where are your manners?”

His mother’s strident tone broke through and altered ever so slightly the slipperiness quotient of his mental ice and managed an eminently erudite, “Uhh, what?”

The guest ... the gorgeous naked girl in question smiled at Daymon’s mother and stated, “It’s okay Master Lindsay. I’m used to this response on Sixteen Days; this is my fourth.

Lindsay Vagner looked with an eyebrow raised at the naked girl and said, “I had your task at the same school, although I got only three trainees. You must be very special.”

“Thanks for your kind words, Ma’am. I’m not bragging, truly, but there might be just enough time before I hit my 18 to get another trainee, although I’m much more than just happy to have gotten a fourth and, assuming his mind is not on permanent ice, I’m liking the looks of his tallywacker.”

“Yes. I was sorely tempted, so applied for the position, myself, but The Council thought my arguments were insufficient.”

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. However, if things go well with Daymon, I’d be happy to have your help.”

Lindsay replied, “I might well accept if that time comes, but I’m hoping to be offered an Administrator position, possibly as soon as Oberfestis.”

“Wow. You must have done very well with your three trainees and subsequent tasks.”

“Thanks. I like to think so, but we’ll see.”

The gorgeous naked girl initiated a whispered conversation, saying in Lindsay’s ear, “My name is Miranda Barranca.”

Lindsay looked wide-eyed at Miranda, then replied, “Thanks for the honor of your name.”

“You’re welcome, Sally, but I’m hoping you can help me with ... your son, even if I can’t reveal that relationship anywhere else.”

“Truly? You want me to help?”

“Yes, the ... projections suggest he’ll be ... Special, but also that it will be particularly difficult to ... steer exactly the right course.”

“Truly? Special? Is that just ‘special,’ or is it ‘Special?’”

“The latter.”

“You may call on me for ... anything. Anything. I didn’t realize you were offering a semi-official assistant position. That would be even more enticing ... and satisfying, at least in the short term, than the Administrator position in my sights.”

“I’d hoped for your help, ‘cause I really don’t want to screw this one up, and, if we succeed, The Council will certainly add our success to your list of accomplishments.”

Miranda looked at the boy and said in a normal voice, “Daymon, you may well find much of the rest of this day to be ... odd, at least, possibly disturbingly so. However, I think you’ll come to ... appreciate the ... change in your ... life.”

With those words stated, Miranda stepped over to Daymon, dropped to her knees, and yanked his shorts down his legs. The boy was so surprised that he could not react in any meaningful way, so was doubly surprised when she calmly lifted one foot after the other to remove his shorts from him. He reacted more effectively when Miranda yanked his underwear down his legs, putting both hands in his crotch in the unrealized hope of covering his goodies from ... His mind still mostly without traction – despite his crotch-covering response, had obvious trouble in defining the danger involved in the past less than 30 seconds, but may well have achieved more lucidity, had not the gorgeous naked girl then put her right hand on his left ass cheek, grabbed his tallywacker-cum-cock with her left hand, and enveloped the distal 60 millimeters or so of it into her mouth.

That proved to be the end of his flight-or-fight response as the immense pleasure he received from the girl’s mouth overloaded whatever synapses might have been getting their act together. What part of his brain that was still analyzing his second-to-second existence had released all motor control and processing power to the powerful signals the boy’s cock was sending his brain, with those signals traveling the critical-life-events pathway rather than the more circuitous day-to-day pathway.

A soft, but heartfelt, “Oh, flaky,” drifted from his mouth as his head tilted back in pleasure, his eyes closing, his brain recognizing one – and only one – input. His world had suddenly decreased to a sphere of approximately 150 millimeters diameter, the sphere necessary to encompass his cockhead and at least part of the mouth around it. That his brain recognized that this was the first non-self-inflicted tallywacker-associated pleasure Daymon had ever experienced was entirely unimportant. The pleasure, itself, was all that mattered, particularly considering that the minuscule world that was his current estimate of reality did not include even the rest of the gorgeous naked girl attached to that mouth, nor of the boy’s mother’s standing presence just two meters or so away. No, that he had something giving his tallywacker pleasure that was not his hand was the only consideration, although he might, probably after the fact, be most amazed at how flaking much better the feelings were that the mouth generated in him than his hand had ever produced.

As one might expect from Daymon’s experience, ultimate pleasure arrived quickly and with a crashing effect on his person. The gorgeous naked girl, being in the upper one percentile of experience with and, particularly, skill at such tasks, sent his mind into the stratosphere in less than a minute. Miranda expected the effect she would have on the boy, so she quickly put her other hand on his other ass cheek to help keep Daymon upright as she finished swallowing his ejaculation.

“Fla-a-a-ake,” the boy’s mouth emitted in both wonder and incredulity.

Miranda, experienced in just such responses, moved her left arm so that it was encompassing Daymon’s waist with the aim of keeping the boy on his feet, then moved her right hand and managed to get him to lift his left foot so she could get it out of his underwear, then switched her hands’ tasks to effect removing the underwear from his other foot. Once she was certain he could stand on his own, although rocking a bit, she stood and, with his unthinking acquiescence, lifted his short-sleeved shirt up his torso, then off his head and arms, leaving the tall boy naked and still mostly out of it in his family’s living room. Granted, his family included just his mother and him, but that was not at all atypical, particularly for a woman of such position and ambition.

Although Sally did not know exactly what sign Miranda would give her, she was ready for it when that gorgeous naked girl provided it. She followed as Miranda, leaving Daymon’s clothing on the floor where she had removed it from him, physically encouraged her son back to his room, with Sally divesting herself of her unitary outfit on the way. Had Miranda been walking Daymon any more quickly, she could not have managed her divesting in that stretch of the hallway, but her son was still mostly mentally out of it and Miranda was taking it slowly.

Sally marveled at two things. Well, two things other than what a lovely body Miranda had: 1) The deep understanding that Miranda was exhibiting concerning boys on their Sixteen Day, at least that of her boy’s, and 2) What a lovely ass her son had. She had not seen it bare in some 12 years or so and was surprised when she realized when they had reached his room that she had watched it the entire way, even while she removed her singlesuit.

Miranda gently encouraged her charge to climb into his relatively wide bed, and, his mind having still not achieved anything close to clarity, he climbed onto it while Sally quickly pulled all the covers to the foot of the bed, mostly hanging off the bed.

Having read every manual on Sixteen Days she could put her hands on, as well as every scrap of anecdotal data she could find in hopes of being her son’s Sixteen Day guide, Sally climbed onto the bed and encouraged her son to move more into the middle of his bed, rather than on the close side into which Miranda had encouraged him. As Miranda climbed onto the mattress after Sally, giving Sally a mental kudos at her efforts, she spread Sally’s son’s legs widely enough so that she could lie on her belly between them and began her next effort with the boy. Holding herself a bit off the bed with her right forearm, she moved her left to the boy’s crotch and began lightly fondling him. She heard Sally give out a low, quiet sort of grunt-moan when the boy’s tallywacker quickly grew to its full length of nearly 160 millimeters. She could almost hear Sally’s thought, “Oh, the resiliency of youth!” Of course, nearly the entirety, although far from all, of Miranda’s experience with tallywackers was with youthful ones.

Miranda did not wait, instead, upon the boy’s tallywacker becoming a cock, she began placing kisses and licks all over it, as well as on his testicles.

Sally watched Miranda with her son intently, with something of a yearning expression on her face, although it appeared there without her knowledge ... or without either of the room’s two other occupants even seeing it. Daymon’s head was elevated from his pillow slightly, his eyes bugged out, as he watched in tunnel vision as the gorgeous naked girl did things to him, gave him feelings he could not have imagined even six metric minutes earlier. It got to be a little too much, and his head slapped back onto his pillow as his eyelids slammed shut and his mouth emitted a long, tremulous moan.

Sally took that as her cue to act, moving her right hand to the boy’s chest as she began softly running it along his wide, hairless chest, down his torso to his pelvis, then back up the right side of his torso to his neck, onto the right side of his face, over his forehead, and down the other side. As she leaned in and placed soft kisses on his right cheek, she kept her hand moving down the left side of his torso, to that hip, then inward toward his groin. She tilted her head down and to the right so she could watch her hand’s approach to his cock, then softly moaned at the sight of the boy’s cockhead in Miranda’s mouth.

Daymon gave out a long moaning sigh-grunt and then a soft, heartfelt, “Fla-a-ake,” his eyes still closed, his mind not fully aware of the multiple causes of the best feelings he had ever experienced. He grunt-moaned when he felt something wonderfully different, but could not be bothered to lift his head much less open his eyes.

Thus, he did not see Miranda’s hand retreat and his mother encircle the base of his cock with her right hand and enclosing it in her fist. She moved her hand only slightly up and down as Miranda was then going to town on her boy’s cock. Sally’s entire body shivered in pleasure at something that, once The Council had turned her request down, she thought she would never get to experience.

Sally sent Miranda a loud, silent facsimile of devout thanks for including her in her son’s Sixteen Day and fervently hoped Miranda would be asking her for further assistance as she conducted the task of preparing Daymon for his adult life.