Lydia's Run

Six

I looked up from where I'd fallen, expecting to see an Enforcer ready to switch off my life.

Instead, it was a vision from the magazines. A muscular XY. A man with body hair and the rugged look of the ancestors. He wore clothing. Not the garments of suppression or the decorative veils used in ceremonies or as props for dancing. He wore actual garments that covered not only his sex but his legs and shoulders.

My heart skipped a beat as my fear, in one giant bound, transformed into an intense longing.

"Are you an ancestor?"

I knew the words were stupid as I said them. Of course he wasn't an ancestor. He was here and now. A living man.

He smiled.

"No. I'm not that old."

No. He wasn't. He wasn't much older than me.

"But I'm not a city dweller either."

He held his hand out and pulled me to my feet. A strong grip, flexing biceps, and a strength that surprised me.

I looked about fearfully.

"The Enviro?"

He held up a long curved thing fashioned from wood with a length of twine stretched from end to end. I'd never seen anything like it but I instinctively recognised it as destructive. A weapon to reach out to its enemies with the other strange sticks he held.

"It's down."

"With that?" I pointed at the thing he held.

"Yes.

It's a bow.

Fire an arrow through a rotor and it's unbalanced. It crashes. Drones aren't very robust."

Bow? Arrow? I had no real idea what that meant, except that the Enforcement drone was no longer a threat.

"Lydia."

Amelie came bursting out of the undergrowth with two more of these strange new men towering over her small frame.

"There's still another drone." One of them said.

The first stranger, my helper, seemed to be the dominant one as he responded.

"We should go."

He looked at me as he continued talking.

"They don't come too far from the City. They don't have the range but we need to be a little further on to be safe."

He took my hand and pulled me after him. A strong, reassuring clasp.

"We'll be safe once we get past the trees. A few minutes walk. That's all."

All I could think about was the strength of his grip. And the roughness of his hand. This man was what the old magazines had promised. Something far from the girlish men of the City. Again I was becoming a slave to deep needs I hoped to answer fully very soon.

"Won't the Enforcers come after us?"

"No. It's only ever the drones. The enforcers aren't allowed out of the City. They wouldn't go back if they knew the truth. They're just as much prisoners kept in ignorance as the rest of you. They just don't know it."

The trees became more sporadic as we went on. Above, the sky I'd been so fearful of was becoming less frightening. Where I'd expected red I found blue. Where Protector had shown me omnipresent brown toxins floating in the air, I saw white wispy clouds. And small dark shapes that glided or flapped in the powered flight of feathered wings.

"Where are going?"

"The village. It's not far.

I'm Quillan by the way."

"Lydia."

I know. Your friend said."

He turned his attention to her.

"Amelie." She answered his unspoken question.

"Welcome to the outside world. The real world.

That's Albus and Elvin next to you."

I noticed Amelie was holding Albus's hand still, even though it wasn't necessary.

"Have you ever lived in the City?" I asked Quillan.

"Once. When I was small. My parents escaped with me a long time ago. I don't remember much about it. But I know. Jareth has told us so much. And my parents, and the others that have escaped."

It was true. Everything Jareth had said was true. Hearing his name was the final confirmation.

There." He pointed.

"You can just see the village in the distance. See the smoke? From the cooking fires?"

Smoke. From a real fire. That was new to me as well. A thick grey-white funnel of clouds of... something, that rose into the sky.

The village was magical. None of the shiny machined finishes I was accustomed to. No materials I recognized. This was fashioned from the planet. Huts made of grasses and the earth itself. Benches and tables that had once been living trees. There were rocks carved into improvised tools. Men and women sat around using these primitive materials to make clothing and prepare food on open flames.

I knew about all these things. They were ideas from an ancient history we'd been taught as children. Ideas ridiculed as primitive and dangerous. But as I grappled with actually experiencing them I couldn't help but feel warmed by them.

"Why do you cover your bodies?" Amelie asked with the same bemusement at the idea of clothing that I held. I touched Quillan's clothing.

"I've never seen anyone wear clothes before. Apart from ceremonial veils." I said.

They feel strange."

"Protection." Arbus said.

"From the radiation?" Amelie looked suddenly fearful.

Quillan laughed.

"Outside isn't like the city. It can be warm or cold. The sun can burn you..."

"The sun?"

I looked worried again, checking my skin."

He laughed.

"Not how you were told. That's all lies. But it can get hot and...

You'll work it out.

The world isn't regulated like the City. We have weather. It gets colder at night. It rains..."

"What's rain?" I asked.

Stupid question. I knew what rain was. At least the theory of it. I'd just never seen it.

"Water that falls from the sky."

I couldn't imagine such a thing actually happening but accepted it at face value. So many new ideas. And so many things I thought I knew suddenly seeming mystical when I saw the real thing.

I looked at the people. Some could almost be a different species. There were some that had the softness, the androgynous look of City dwellers. Obviously more recent arrivals like us. Then there were others like Quillan. Rugged. Bigger. And there were colors. In the city, everyone was pale-skinned. Especially the blondes. I had darker tones and Amelia had an undertone of orange-red about her skin. But we were still pale in comparison to most of these.

But there were others. Ones who were very different. Browns and yellows. And a few that seemed to be halftones. I guessed from the different colors breeding.

It was a beautiful sight. So different from the uniformity that the City seemed to consider the ideal. I loved the variety.

Then I was struck by something else. One woman, in particular, caught my attention. She was sat cross-legged on the grass eating berries from an earthen bowl. Her long hair was silver and hung around a face that seemed wizened. Deep craters tracked across her leathery skin, and lines around the eyes and mouth seemed like cracks. Loose flesh hung from her throat as though her skin was too big for her.

She smiled as she saw me staring and I think she knew my question even before it fully formed in my head. She'd probably heard it so many times before.

"Is she... old?"

"Another lie you're told in the city. Two score Cycles and ten. That's your allotted time isn't it."

"Yes. That's..." I looked at the XX again. When we were close to our end those lines were visible, but never to the extent this woman had them.

"She's four score and three.

The eldest here now. Some live longer. Some a little less."

"But in the City..."

I was struggling to understand.

"In the city they cull you. Everyone dies in their sleep. Those chokers you wear close off the oxygen and snuff you out when you no longer fit the pristine image."

"But the Protector... protects."

"The Protector protects the city. Not its inhabitants."

I felt sick. My whole life was a lie.

"Hello."

Another face joined us. A Cis-XX a little younger than myself.

"This is my sister. Adora."

"Hello." I said back.

She was pretty. Dark-haired like me but a little heavier. Curvier like the girls in the magazines. Something I'd never seen in reality.

"You have big mammaries." I said.

Adora laughed.

"All the newcomers say that. Either to me or some of the others. They're not that big really. Just not as tiny as city dwellers. Not that there's anything wrong with small."

She moved closer and peeled back her tunic.

"Touch if you like."

I was staring. A rounded tit, just as in the pictures, with a large deeply crimson nipple and areola. So different.

I put my hand out and touched her tentatively, pressing my fingers into her soft flesh.

"It's so soft."

I took my hand away before it became awkward and Adora covered herself.

"Red meat they say. What we eat affects how we develop."

"Who says?"

Quillan laughed at me again. My ignorance amused him over and over.

"It's just an expression."

I nodded but wasn't sure I understood. In the city the Protector said. Not some imaginary 'they'.

Quillan took me into his hut as night fell. Amelie went with Albus. He seemed quite taken by her red hair.

The hut wasn't anything like I was used to. Just a circular shelter made from dried grasses on a wooden frame. No illumination, no holographic entertainment system that carried the threat of taking my credit for misbehavior. And above all, no ever-monitoring AI for my so-called protection.

"The furs are cozy." He said laying some furry materials out on the floor for me.

"These come from... animals?"

"Yes. We hunt them for food and warmth."

"But I thought..."

"You thought there were no animals. Not true. There are vast herds. Without the cities of the past, they recovered. The few we take make little difference to the numbers.

His sister was already wrapped up in her furs over the far side. She was watching me intently, amused by my confusion.

"You sleep under them?"

"Between them." Adora said.

"I was born after we left the City so I only know the stories about how it was in your sleeping rooms."

Mats we laid on. That was it. No coverings. The idea seemed strange. Almost pointless. Why would you cover yourself?

Adora read my mind.

"It gets colder in the night here. It's best to cover yourself with one. The other is soft against the hard ground."

I'd take her advice.

"Thank you."

I lay down on a fur, running my fingers through the tightly packed hair. Again, this was all new to me. We had no animals. And certainly no skins. Everything in the city was manufactured. Unseen machines that produced everything we needed. In reality that was very little.

The fur was warm to the touch. Soft and comforting. Quillan put another one over me while I was still becoming accustomed to the idea. Despite the unfamiliarity of having something cover me, it felt nice.

"No alarms here." He said turning to sort his own sleeping area.

"We wake with the dawn. And the noise of children playing outside. They're always up early. Especially in the nice weather."

I looked over at him as he sat down and took off his top. My eyes admired his physic. It was just like the magazines. I couldn't explain why but somehow it made me much more excited about men than the Cis-XY versions in the city. They were too much like Cis-XX's. Apart from flat chests and their little cocks they weren't much different to me or Amelie.

I was beginning to realize how we were becoming alike. Variations in body shape, skin tone, and yes the color of our hair, all being slowly bred out of us using the licensing and chastity garments. In the City, I was a reject.

Quillan was a real man. Dark hair, physical strength. He even had growth sprouting from his face.

"We'll find you some clothes in the morning."

"Some of mine will fit." Adora offered.

"I'm small like you."

"Thank you.

It'll be strange. I've only ever worn the chastity garment, and veils for dancing."

"Will you teach me to dance?"

Adora looked excited about the idea.

"Yes. Of course.

But I want to do something other than dance here. I want to be useful."

"You can do whatever you want." Quillan said.

"Cook, make clothes, build. If you like you can be a hunter."

"Not sure I'd make a good hunter. I do like the idea of creating something."

"Or you can teach. Everyone helps with the children. We're just one big family." He went on.

"It's what I do." Adora added.

"I want my own children one day."

"I want to breed as well. Can I do that here without a license?"

They both laughed at me.

"There are no licenses here." Quillan assured me.

"Children are just a natural product of... a little fun." He grinned.

"Fun? You mean mutual pleasure?"

Adora was sniggering.

"Such strange terms. Is that really how you talk in the City?"

I felt silly. Everything I knew was being challenged.

Adora put her head down to sleep and I was left staring at her brother again. He was there. A living image of the men in the pictures but somehow I needed to connect to be sure he was real.

"Can I touch you?"

He grinned at me.

"If you like."

I shuffled over to where I could reach him and put a hand out tentatively to run my fingers over his face. It felt rough. The skin was coarse and dry. It was covered in the first hints of facial hair growing back from shaving. I'd seen another man do that earlier. A sharp blade drawn across his face removing the stubbly growth.

I moved to Quillan's chest. Again I marveled at the feel of hair. It was wiry. And under it his skin. Not as rough as his face but not soft like an XY from the city.

"You've never touched a real man before have you."

"No."

"And I guess you wore a Chasity garment?"

"Yes. I was refused a breeding license."

"Is that why you chose to run?"

"Finally. Yes.

I just couldn't live my life without ever... without knowing what it would be like to exchange pleasure with a Cis-XY."

He grinned wildly.

"Exchange pleasure. XY.

What kind of words are those?

Say what you mean. To fuck a man."

"Yes.

That's what I mean. I want to... fuck a real man."

He stood up and peeled away the rest of his clothing garments, watching me as my eyes stared at each newly exposed area of his body.

"This what you want?"

He stood naked. Just like one of the fantasies in the magazines. Defined muscles that rippled when he moved. A sparse covering of hair that became thicker around his genitals.

I felt all the emotions I experienced looking at those photos, only a thousandfold. I was quivering as I stared at his cock. It was hardening. Pointing out from his body. Other than in the pictures I'd only occasionally seen cocks like this. On the XY's who'd been granted breeding licenses. Even then they were generally flaccid. Never with hair, and never as large.

I was aware I was staring and that perhaps it wasn't polite. But I couldn't help myself.

"Why are the X... the men so different here?"

He shrugged.

"We work. Physically work. And we eat natural foods. I guess it affects how we develop. I came here very young. Others were born here. We're the ones who are more... masculine. And the women fuller in the figure.

Those that come here older, the adults. They don't change very much. They get a little more muscular from the work, the skin more leathery, but their features don't change though.

Sorry. You're not going to grow a big pair of tits suddenly." He laughed.

I reddened as I glanced over at Adora, remembering that she was larger than me. Again I looked at Quillan. Would he be satisfied with smaller tits? An imp of a girl like me? Or did he prefer females more like his sister in looks?

He was slowly stroking his cock with his hand. A long hard shaft of meat that ended in a bulbous crown. It seemed swollen and more richly coloured than the squeezed and trapped examples protruding from the chastity garments of the city's XY's My mouth was watering liberally at the sight. So was my pussy.

"This is the first hard clock you've seen isn't it."

"Yes." I said truthfully.

"Can I touch it?"

My whole body was responding. Those feelings plagued me so often without any means of answering them. The dull ache in my nipples and the un-scratchable itch between my thighs. All the sensations I felt when Amelie and I mutually pleasured one another. Only now they were exponentially greater.

He stepped closer. So close I could smell his odor. It was earthy. Primal. I couldn't call it pleasant in the way the fake seasonal scents of the city air were. Nor was it like the perfumes we scented ourselves with. But it reached to something deep inside me and left me quivering with a desire I could hardly comprehend.

"Touch it." He said quietly and firmly. An invite and instruction all in one.

I reached out and put my hand around it. The first cock I'd ever held. It was warm, almost hot. And hard.

I glanced up into his eyes momentarily and gave a nervous laugh. Then I drew my hand up the length of it and over his crown. I felt it's gristle structure. The raised veins and that smooth, silken head. I was shaking from head to toe and in my ears I could only hear the drumbeat of my heart.

"Umm."

He shuddered and groaned with joy. I'd only ever exchanged pleasure with Amelie and the desire to experience this XY, this man, was overbearing.

I felt a stickiness in my palm and realized he was leaking fluids. Not cum. I'd never seen actual cum but I knew this wasn't it. It was...lubricant. A prerequisite like the wetness now invading my pussy so generously.

"It's... I don't know what to say."

I didn't.

"Don't say anything. Just explore and do what feels natural."

I let my hand slide back down into the thicket of coarse hair at its root. It was like nothing I'd ever felt. Then emboldened I cupped his testicle sack.

"What do you call them?"

I wanted a new word. A dirty one like fuck and cock.

"Balls. Ball bag."

It seemed appropriate. I rolled them about, bemused and excited at their strange texture. Freely hanging fruits for which there was no obvious equivalent on my XX body. I squeezed them and he flinched.

"Sorry."

"Careful. They're sensitive."

I returned to his shaft. Rubbing it back and forth, taking enjoyment from his groans and from the expanding heat in my groin. My other hand went to my pussy without me realizing it and I began exploring myself properly for the first time. Touching where it felt nice. Sensations, so good, they reached out through my entire body. All of it.

"Mmm." I moaned, my breaths trembling uncontrollably.

I don't know why I did it. It felt instinctive. Like it was obvious. I'd seen the pictures but they weren't in my thoughts now. I just did it.

I put my mouth around his cock.

"Oh, you're learning fast."

I felt good about myself. I felt free and unhindered. His quiver and the sharp, snatched breaths excited me further. I was doing that to him.

I let myself go. Riding my lips down his length, tasting his flesh and the salty leakage, caressing his crown with my tongue.

I maneuvered myself forward onto my knees to take him all, breathing in his scent. It was intoxicating. A drug that added more fire to my burning desire. Fingers went into my hair until they were on my scalp and he gently guided me. Another hand brushed over my shoulder and tickled my neck.

"That feels so good."

I was peeling open my pussy, delighting in its warmth and wetness. Squirming at the sensations my touch sent racing up my spine. My fingers slipped inside, feeling my tunnel properly for the first time. Velvety and tight. Then I found my pleasure button. Tucked under a protective hood of delicate flesh.

"Uhmmm."

So sensitive now it was no longer kept from me by that awful garment. Later I wanted to explore Amelie's again. Not the rushed, desperate event in the tunnels when we thought we might never have another intimate moment. No. Next time it would be slow and purposeful. I would finger her hole and put my tongue on that hard little button.

But right now I wanted this man. I wanted to experience fucking. And he was ready to answer my need.