Leave Us Alone

Two small hands reached in from off-screen to rub the lotion into the blonde woman's back. Blake moaned and bit her lip, wondering how many people watching wished their hands could reach in and touch her so easily. Lena rubbed her lower back, buttocks and thighs before the video ran out of time.

Lena once again double-checked the video to make sure her face never entered the shot before releasing it. She closed the laptop to make sure the little camera wasn't still watching them as she rubbed the lotion higher up on Blake's back.

Blake reached down to the concrete below her and picked up the old-fashioned egg timer, turning the dial to set it.

Lena looked at the amount of time Blake had chosen. "Only ten minutes?"

"Per side." Blake said. "No need to overdo it. I've still got the rest of the summer to soak up some rays."

Lena retreated to the shade of the open doorway. It was a touch more exciting standing in the doorway naked than sitting in her home naked. The view out the back of the house was quite beautiful, the desert stretching out for miles in the distance. Going from city living to this was quite a shock. She could barely believe there was THAT much space with nobody living in it.

Of course, in her bedroom, she had a window facing this very view. But it was almost always obscured with a curtain and a towel held in place with clothespins. Whatever heat might be dissipated with a breeze wasn't worth dealing with direct sunlight.

Avoiding the outdoors was a lifelong pursuit of Lena's... so it did strike her funny that Blake had missed the Walk so much, she would simulate one of its side effects.

"You... really think the Walk is important?" Lena asked.

"I do." Blake said. "Futas living in secret means we pass our problems to the next generation. We need to be out in a way that makes the rest of the world understand that we're real and we're not going anywhere."

"We can do that out here, in the middle of nowhere?"

"I see cars come by almost every time I walk." Blake said. "But there's no police to spoil all the fun. You couldn't do this anywhere close to a city, but we can change hearts one at a time."

"And you think that's the reason the houses are where they are?"

"Why else would there be farm houses out where you couldn't grow anything?"

Lena looked back out to the horizon. She knew there were parts of this state that were less.. arid. But this did seem to be a silly place to try to grow anything. Might be nice land to ride a horse around, so long as you returned to a barn, or preferably someplace with cold beverages.

"You ever hear of real tennis?" Lena asked.

Blake's face scrunched up a bit. "What's... fake tennis? Is it like Wii Tennis?"

"Real tennis is played indoors on this special asymmetrical court with a cloister on three sides. There's a ceiling and everything... it's more like squash. The sport eventually evolved into lawn tennis, which we now just call tennis, like Lance Armstrong tennis."

"Did you mean Andre Agassi?"

"What did I say?"

"Lance Armstrong. He was a cyclist."

"Yeah, that's not what I meant. I don't watch sports. I don't even play the sports video games."

"You seem to know a little something about tennis."

"I forget where I picked up that piece of trivia. The point I'm trying to make is... it seems evident to me that 'real tennis' is just a sport that wealthy aristocrats made up to use a giant unused room in their estate. It's a game that was made up based on the infrastructure that was ALREADY THERE."

There was a long silence.

"These houses definitely predate the Walk." Lena continued. "That much is pretty much certain. The Walk was developed BECAUSE the houses were here, not the other way around. I don't think the Walk has any real spiritual or other meaningful component... and I think the quasi-religious significance it has in this house is fucking crazy."

Blake didn't respond or move. Maybe she was offended and shocked into silence. Or maybe she was still focused on getting that tan.

"And... like a lot of religious stuff, I think the Walk itself is younger than we might think."

"I thought it might have started with hippies in the sixties, and a little of that free love has made it all the way to the modern day, like the little bit of the whiskey that stays in the barrel when it gets refilled or whatever."

"If someone has lived here consistently for over fifty years, why is the house such a wreck?"

Blake looked off. "Hippies were broke. Broker than us."

"Too broke to build two houses, I would think... unless this house was formed by the creator of Snapple or something. I think this started post-2000, at least. Which is a long time ago, but not THAT long. That's long enough to make something a tradition for sure. But I think it's all bent around making an excuse for all the public nudity.

"Think about it. One futa, or a group of futa, decide to live apart from the world. They hang around naked, because why not? It's fun. But of course, then they get bored with the only people seeing our nudity being other futa, who all get desensitized to the sight of our big cocks, so they come up with a reason to go out and experience that thrill in public. That satisfies that urge, but they didn't come out here specifically to do that. The Walk is just a means to feel that thrill that every futa gets when we show off our stuff to a non-futa. It's something we can't get without some kind of outside influence, be it in person or through the Internet. But that's not why it started."

"Well, why, then?" Blake asked. "Why else would we live out here?"

"Whoever started this, likely a futa, didn't move out here to be socially naked all the time. They moved to the middle of nowhere because they wanted to live apart from society. And everyone who stays here for long periods of time, instead of just visiting or spending weekends or winters out here... we want to live here because the real world sucks. Any futa who COULD live in the real world... would just do that. We're the misfits."

"I don't think that's true."

Lena was ready for her. "Do you remember Florence?"

The name didn't ring a bell in Blake's mind. Her eyes bounced about, like the arm on a hard drive platter, searching for data. "I guess I don't. Did she have a nickname?"

Lena clarified. "Guitar girl."

It might not have been an official nickname, but the image of the nude futa with the electric guitar and mini-amp appeared in her mind. A woman with gently feathered brunette hair and sneakers with white soles. Not as dedicated to the punk look as Maggie, but definitely one with punk in her heart.

"Oh YEAH, her." Blake said. "What happened to her?"

"She returned to society. Because she was well-adjusted, and she had a skill that wasn't that useful out here. It was fun to have her around, but... she could live a real life out in normal society. And as a musician with a big penis, it could STILL be filled with sex! She's not famous or anything, but she's in a real band! She's rocking out and singing backup vocals. She even wears a red codpiece onstage, like Cameo. If you know, you know.

"I remember once, she was playing for people in the common room, and she bet everyone that she could get me to leave my room upstairs. I guess I have that reputation, if nothing else. So she started playing some video game tunes on the guitar. When I realized what she was playing, I ran downstairs. So she was right. It turned into a little video game music concert."

Blake asked the question that was never far from her mind. "Did you fuck her afterwards?"

"Oh, hell yeah." Lena grinned.

"Mmm." Blake grunted. "Maybe I should learn. Stupid music class sticking me with the clarinet."

"Well, you see what I'm getting at. Not everyone can stay out here permanently. You couldn't live here if you have a peanut allergy, or if you need a dog in your life to be happy, or if you have any kind of daily prescription. I don't think any of us are on antidepressants, which... statistically, you'd think at least one of us would be. Maybe someone with a driver's license gets them when they go in for supplies.

"You couldn't live here if you were attached to your career, or had an elder relative who relied on you, or if you preferred the cold weather, or if you loved going to the cinema, or if your identity relied on your fashion sense, or maybe... you just want to own your own shit! For some people home-ownership is the endgame. The two-point-five kids is out of reach of us, but a white picket fence? No more than anyone else our age.

"Even someone dedicated to full-time e-thottery might not want to live in such a harsh environment. It's not like it's that much hotter than Los Angeles, but there are no spas or expensive makeup stores around. Living in the southwest is tough enough without being so far away from everything.

"We're not here to change the world. We're here to escape the world. And there's a lot of stuff we give up to do it. I'm saying that not every futa is going to look at it the same way we do. They'd rather tuck their cocks away and make money... or even just find one person to make their life bearable, instead of a cornucopia of dicks."

Blake sighed. Lena wasn't... wrong.

"Maybe those of us who live out here are misfits." Blake began. "But then again, we also avoid certain troublesome personalities who couldn't live out here. I doubt someone really greedy would survive out here, living so cheaply and without most of life's finery. Even if they had the money already and were just living off it, they wouldn't be the type to share a house with dozens of roommates.

"Same thing with people who are the jealous type. They're not going to want to share. Or someone who has to be in charge. They'll get a job as as assistant manager at some grocery store and satisfy that urge. Or maybe they can become a findom for some poor fool.

"Maybe the Walk doesn't really mean anything or change anything. But when you get right down to it... something about life here at these houses is working. And I'm not going to rock the boat and take any chance that it could all go away."

Lena nodded. "Yeah, I certainly don't want my life to change, either. But the religious pageantry is the only thing that makes me think this really is some sort of weird sex cult. Like you and Breaking Bad, I wanted to talk about it while we're alone."

"Well, how do you know I won't turn you in?"

"Turn me in to WHO?"

Blake took a second. "Yeah, you make a good point."

The egg timer went off, startling Blake just enough to make the last ten minutes of relaxation mean nothing. She turned the dial again to ten minutes and flipped over... but then sat up in her chair, realizing that her front had not yet been protected with sunscreen.

Lena was already near, holding out the bottle at the end of her arm. "I think you can apply this layer yourself."

Blake accepted the bottle and squirted a dollop into her hand. "You can join in whenever you like." She slapped the dollop onto her breasts and spread it around, massaging them until they shimmered.

Lena averted her gaze. She'd joined in on some ceremonial lotion applications before. Loathe as she was to participate in any of the quasi-religious stuff, that was always good fun. "Should we... record this, too?"

"Sure. Let's make some more money."

Unlike modern cell phones, which often featured cameras on both sides of the device, the laptop only had one mounted camera at the top of the screen. Lena held the laptop out by the base and recorded as Blake applied a new layer of sunscreen to her body. She applied the same amount to her cock, but somehow spent a little more time rubbing it in.

Lena looked off again. It would probably be embarrassing to get an erection while holding something heavy in both hands and unable to do anything about it. Blake might just take the opportunity and go after it like a fish chasing a hook.

Once again, they reviewed the footage. Not one ounce of Lena's nudity made it into this video, so it wasn't necessary for her privacy.

"The shaky-cam makes this feel sort of like a voyeur video..." Lena said.

"Well, I waved at the camera, so that sort of proves it's all for show." Blake said. "Besides, the last video strongly indicates that I'm a willing participant in this."

The small bell icon towards the upper-right corner suddenly lit up, indicating that someone had left a comment. Lena clicked the notification and read the thoughtful comment:

"wheres the dick, show dick"

It hadn't occurred to them that the previous video was a rare instance of their output where no futa erections were featured.

Lena sniffed. "You want to sleep on releasing this video?"

"Yeah, we can let this guy wait a bit."

Lena folded the laptop and brought it back into the house. When she returned, Blake had one arm folded under her head and her hip cocked at a slight angle. It was almost the pose of a pinup in an old-fashioned calendar.

Beautiful sight as it was, that wasn't what was on Lena's mind.

"I've been thinking..." Lena began.

"Yes, you can fuck me."

"That's been established, Blake. No, I need to say... your secret was a little deeper than mine was. I feel like it wasn't an equal exchange."

"Well, I'm sorry that I dropped that on you. But I guess we both loosened the cork a bit."

"You asked why I was out here." Lena sat on the stool where the laptop had been. "It's not just to play games, and it's not for futa liberty or whatever, and it's not for the sex."

"Then why? What else is there?"

Lena took in a deep breath. Here we go, she thought.

"When I was in high school, my parents were disappointed in my grades. I was getting B's and C's, but... you know, Asian parents. My brothers all got A's. I don't know if it was the Adderall, or if they were cheating, or if they were just more enthusiastic students than I was. They said my gaming was interfering with my studies, but it really wasn't. I knew how hard I wanted to try to skate by, and I wasn't going to try harder at school if I didn't have games.

"My mother and father eventually got fed up with my insolence. They took me out to Palisades Park, where there are these huge two-hundred-foot cliffs. We hiked for a bit and talked about my studies, and I mostly blew them off, because of course I did. I was a teenager in high school. But once the cliffs were close enough to see, my father took off his backpack and pulled out... my SNES. Apparently, the walk was the final test to see if I deserved to keep it."

Lena stared out into space. "It's the only test I ever failed."

"That's terrible!" Blake reached out her hand.

Lena pulled away from the touch. She stood straight up, at her full, if short, height. "I didn't scream, I didn't cry, I just... couldn't believe it. Sure, they had technically paid for it, so I guess it was their property. But that car ride back, I decided right then and there that I would not have an adult relationship with my parents. And if that meant I wasn't going to college... so be it.

"A few days after it went down, one of my brothers told me that my parents had tried to enlist them to help out with stealing the SNES. But they all refused to do it. That's why it was just me and my parents on the hike. The three of them would have interfered. One of them even offered to get a new one, but what was the point of that? They'd just do it again. My brothers couldn't really have STOPPED it from happening altogether, but they would not participate.

"The real joke to all this was... once I didn't have a SNES, that was when I found my first ROM set and played on my laptop. I played more than I ever did, but they didn't know because I gave up the television in my room. I had to re-learn how to play with the keyboard. Had to re-RE-learn it all again when I got out here and could use a controller again.

"I guess my parents got what they wanted. I got a job, which they were nagging me to get anyway. Since I wasn't spending anything on games, I saved every penny, sold all the games I didn't need anymore... and counted every day until I left. On the night before my birthday, I slipped out and left town. The ice cream cake for the party was still in the freezer."

She sighed. "I haven't talked to them since."

"You're a runaway?"

"I was eighteen. I could do what I wanted. I'm not a fugitive. Even if the police came after me, and even if they somehow found me out here... they can't do anything. I would affirm my identity, and my right to stay lost."

"Do you think your parents will ever find you?"

"I bought a red-eye plane ticket to Florida, gave it to the woman at the desk, pretended I had forgot something, and then got on a coach out west. I even took my phone, hooked it to an extra-large battery, and mailed that to a nonexistent address in Florida with no return address... just so they'd think I was actually out there when they checked where the phone was."

"Jesus." Blake said. "You planned this out."

"I did. I wanted where they thought I was and where I really was to be as far apart as I could make it without leaving the US. But somewhere in my westward travels, someone somehow told me about this house, and I made my way out here... and began my exile.

"It's ironic that some of us make money as camgirls, because I really was planning on going full e-thot when I turned eighteen. It's hilarious thinking back on it, because I never dressed up nice or even wore makeup. At Thanksgiving, my parents were satisfied if I had my jeans on. But I was prepared to learn if that was how I supported myself and it got me out of customer service. Can't do that anymore. I can't take the chance, no matter how small, that my family will find where I am. That's why I will never, EVER show my face in those videos. I don't think I could be identified by my nudity... but it's not impossible."

Blake took a moment before responding.

"Do you think you'll ever reconcile with them?"

"Never."

"You hate them that much?"

"Not anymore. They're out of my life. This is the first time I've spared them a thought in at least a year."

"What about your brothers?"

"The rest of my family is fine, but I can't take any chance contacting them because THEY might tell my parents."

"You don't think you might feel differently about it later on?"

"If I do, I can find them. But until I have a change of heart, I'm not budging. I can't afford to make any mistakes."

Another pause. Blake didn't know what to say. "It's not good to hang onto anger like that."

"I'm not hanging onto it. It's out there. It's everywhere." Lena waved her hands around. "That's like saying someone who got caught in the rain is 'holding onto' moisture."

Blake snorted.

"I was never like that. I never used to be the kind of game player who would throw down the controller in rage. I was cool as a cucumber." Lena said. "My friends drove me crazy with how they treated their controllers... or MY controller. Maybe it's because the SNES wasn't wireless and I was too afraid to accidentally pull the console down and break it. But I was never like that..."

Lena stared straight forward. "Until one day. I controlled myself at school, I controlled myself at home. Really, what choice did I have, at that point? I even controlled myself at my job... within reason. But in between those three places, when I was under no obligation to tolerate other people's bull... I lost control.

"I blew up at a total stranger. He caught me at the wrong moment and he faced my full, unfiltered wrath. I'm sure he didn't expect such a reaction from the tiny Asian woman. I went home and stewed for a bit... and then I started to feel guilty. So, I went back out and bought a coffee for the guy, who was still right where I'd left him. All I wanted to do was make everything square."