No Accounting For Chaos Ch. 06byElRoylk©
"It changes people, Marcie." He continued the theme he had begun in the car as he let her in the door. "Experiencing alternate pasts changes your view point." He closed the door and took her coat, seeing her disbelief. "I know, it sounds impossible, and none of us are completely certain, but we've been running some very careful experiments and they seem to pan out our suspicions."
She expected him to bring her to the theater right away, but he was walking to the kitchen.
"Would you like something? Tea? Coffee? Something stronger?" He was filling the kettle and putting it on the stove.
More alcohol at this point sounded like a really bad idea. "Tea would be fine, thanks."
She sat down on a stool and pondered what was happening, for the umpteenth million time this week. "Hold it, Monty. Let me try and sort this out:
"1) You have a belief in Tantrism, which, among other things means you choose not to ejaculate
2) Your choice to not ejaculate also means you have been squirreling away life force from the river, giving you even greater vision into the past, and apparently into the future
3) You learned this trick 25 years ago from a guru named Sundar, who, after letting you fuck young women in his ashram, let you go when you had mastered all he could teach you."
She looked at him wickedly for a moment to let him know she was poking a little fun.
"4) You are brilliant, of course, everyone knows that, but your ambitions with Tantrism led to something more than just spiritual pursuit. Apparently you have tripped over a machine that is a digital equivalent of what you and only a few others in the history of humanity have achieved.
"5) You have become fabulously wealthy, through a mixture of cunning, bravery, courage, 'Forsight' and what I would call just blind luck and what you would call 'strange attractors.' How'm I doing so far?"
The kettle was whistling, momentarily interrupting her and distracting him. He had been smiling the whole time, eager to see her be comfortable back at the house, and completely relaxed at the ribbing. If she can make a joke about it, it's a good sign. "Good. It all sounds familiar." He brought her a mug.
"Let's see, what else have we learned? Oh yes:
"6) You not only don't ejaculate, you stay hard. A long time. Without Cialis or Viagra. That's a nice side effect, by the way....
"And what have learned about me? I suppose it wouldn't be fair to only inventory you." She sipped a little.
"Well," she continued. "A) I like to strip naked in front of complete strangers; sometimes when I'm sober, but more often than not after a few drinks." She smiled shyly at him over the cup. " B) I am an excellent auditor. I can decipher a set of books in no time. C) I love to eat. (As do you, for which I'm thankful). But I love to eat cock. Not all cocks...yours for sure. I love to feel it in the back of my throat. Mmmm, I'm already thinking about it even though I swore I wasn't going to do anything other than hear you out...but if you have to, Dr. Green, I would take an injection from you anywhere, anytime.
"But I've gotten way off-track here. Let's see, what else do we know about me? A, B, C," She rattled off the letters on her fingers. "D) > I don't like to strip naked in front of other people. That's in complete conflict with exhibit A), and hence, E) I see a therapist, often. Oh yes, and while we're on the topic of my insecurities and frailties, you should know two more things: F) I am falling in love with you completely and utterly, and G) I can't imagine why you would even have the time of day for a fucked up chick like me."
He was about to answer her, when she stopped him. "And one more thing, which I don't understand at all, and which I demand to know the answer to before we continue any further: why is it, no matter when we're together, your phone doesn't interrupt us?"
The question caught him completely by surprise. "What?"
"Your phone. We've been together almost two months and I can't remember a single time when it's rung. But I know you use it -- I've called you on it..." She stopped. He was starting to laugh at her again and it annoyed her.
"You...you are so...wonderful!" He reached out to hug her, still laughing but with a twinkle in his eye. "What do you suppose people did before cell phones?" He whispered in her ear.
She turned to face him, letting his lips brush hers. She shook her head.
He didn't answer, but instead pressed his lips to hers, moving his tongue between them. She kept her teeth closed, still annoyed. She pulled away. "Not so fast, buster. I'm not going to play that game. You're going to tell me about the phone before we go any further." She didn't let him go, and she didn't let him kiss her.
"Okay," he pulled away firmly and looked at her gravely. "I'll tell you about the 'mystery of my phone,' but first can we do this thing in the theater?"
She pressed half of her mouth together, twisting her face, annoyed and thinking. She capitulated and they took their mugs down the stairs to the theater.
"So where did we leave off...oh yeah, sideways. It certainly wasn't obvious to us when we started that we'd be able to look sideways along the space-time grid. We knew the future was going to be tough, and we were surprised at seeing so many pasts, but sideways was something we hadn't thought was even an option. And as it turns out," he unlocked the door and let her in, "looking sideways, along an infinite number of paths, is a poor-boy's way of gaining Forsight."
She sat in the front seat and waited for the curtains and projector to do their thing. None of it made any sense to her, in spite of being able to rattle it off on her fingers. What could looking sideways on the space-time grid possibly mean? Nothing. Malarkey as her step-mother would say.
He joined her on the love seat and pulled up the remote. "It doesn't happen all at once, but several of the folks who installed the equipment noticed after a few months of using it they were getting these visions..."
She looked up at him...
"...yes, similar to what you reported experiencing in the basement. Hold on...we'll get to that in a moment...yes, it might have something to do with the equipment..."
She could feel the anger mounting and decided it wasn't worth it. If he knew it might have something to do with the camera, why didn't he say something last week, instead of letting her think she was going crazy? She lost track of what he had been saying.
"...multiple exposures over several months, so I'm not at all clear whether it really has something to do with the camera. I'm more inclined to think you might have a sensitivity or natural 'talent'."
She looked at him like he was from another time: obviously a scientist, how could he even begin to believe that people had psychic powers. She wanted to get on with the show. "Okay, what did you want to show me?" She didn't hide her impatience.
He looked back at her, a little puzzled and fiddled with the remote. "I showed you the actual past experience we had together when we first met. Let me show you a slightly different past that diverges from the one we both remember. It's the night of the party." He fiddled with the controls.
She saw herself walking among the guests, not too different from her memory until she reached Jack and Joel on the lawn. She hugged him with apparent sincerity and they chatted amicably. The camera was from high up -- near the house. She asked him to stop it. "Can't you get any closer? This looks really different from what I remember, and I'd love to hear what I'm saying."
"Nope. Can't "zoom in" as it were, but sound shouldn't be a problem. Might be a little distorted. The equipment is designed to stay within a short range...mostly for security reasons." He played around a little and the scene continued.
She heard herself say something unintelligible and while she was trying to figure that out, she sat shocked, looking at the screen and then over at Monty. There, on the lawn, in front of dozens of strangers, she peeled off her dress, unhooked her bra and shimmied out of her panties. Still smiling at Jack she gathered her clothes and nonchalantly sashayed her way back into the house, toward the stairs.
He adjusted a few knobs and the joystick and kept her in view as she walked up the stairs, her ass cheeks and vagina clearly visible from below as he followed her up.
"Stop that!" She squeaked, incredulous at what she was seeing. The scene continued to follow her to the living room, where she rejoined him and his guests.
"No. Fucking. Way." She gestured at him to stop the scene. She was in mid-stride frozen in place, her clothes tucked under her arm. He had swung the camera around to point directly at her, her nudity now on display in front of them both. As he had swung the point of view around she could see the other guests just noticing her walking in. "That," she pointed at herself, "is impossible." In spite of her vocal objections her body was responding quite differently. She could feel herself begin to loosen up and realized at some level she really enjoyed seeing herself naked in a roomful of strangers.
"I have an infinite number of these 'impossibilities', each with minute differences." His matter-of-fact tone made her head hurt. She expected him to tell her next that pigs could fly, and he'd use the same nonchalant tone. "Should I continue with this one or proceed to the next thing I wanted to show you?"
She struggled with her feelings. This is so wrong; why do I get so fucking excited about it? It's not possible! Yet she couldn't break her eyes away from her body, open, accessible, visible to everyone without any apparent shame or discomfort. She was smiling, her small breasts standing out, her nipples at attention. She noted her bush was nicely trimmed and then slapped herself mentally for even thinking it was okay to be exposed this way. She did have a nice body, she had to admit to herself, and she did seem to enjoy showing it off...Stop it! Her internal struggle extended beyond her thoughts. She shifted, uncomfortable with the mounting arousal from her crotch.
"Uh...please...no, we don't need to see any of this any more...unless what you're going to show me next is even worse..."
"That," he said, wiping the scene from the screen, "is a matter for you to decide. None of this has any value whatsoever as far as I'm concerned....except, of course, I love to see you naked...but hopefully we can rectify that without having to look sideways." He realized his faux pas too late, and kicked himself for being such an idiot. "Here's the party again. Different past, almost exactly the same probabilities as the prior one. Tell me how this makes you feel."
There she was again, down at the lawn, talking with Jack. He had put on the sound, but it was still pretty garbled. She could tell she wasn't comfortable at all talking to him, but it was a different discomfort than what she felt the "real" time: she noticed a sense of arrogance or self-righteousness...as if she were better than Jack rather than threatened by him. She couldn't tell how she knew it -- it was her face mostly, but at this distance she couldn't be sure. Her stance, the way she faced him. It all felt very foreign to her. Again, she left the lawn and he tracked her back up to the living room. When she rejoined him, the view centered on her face: although she was smiling, the here-and-now Marcie could tell she wasn't happy.
Disgust. She felt disgust, and disappointment, in this person she was seeing. She was haughty and...and holier-than-thou. She whispered something into Monty's ear.
"Hold it. Rewind it, could you? I want to hear what I said."
He obliged and the words came through clearly: "I just saw someone I knew from college. Someone who knew me back when...when I felt the need to exhibit myself in public. Those old feelings came back, but I'm so glad I could squash them." She squeezed his hand and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
The whole scene made her feel very uncomfortable in a way that was completely different from before. She noticed a slight nausea and a complete lack of any arousal. She thought it might even be a reaction to dinner. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths.
"Are you okay?" He had blanked the screen and turned to her.
"No. Not really. I don't understand what I'm seeing...what I'm feeling." She forced herself not to hyperventilate.
"I take it this last scene wasn't possible?...either?" He asked it in a comforting way; she didn't take it as patronizing...just analytical and inquisitive.
She realized he didn't care one way or the other. She knew he had said it before, but she didn't believe him. Now, sitting in the theater, watching herself expose herself, debase herself, humiliate herself in front of his guests, and he didn't give two shits about it...it was too much to believe. She desperately wanted to be okay with being naked. She liked being naked! No! It's not true! You are a slut for even thinking it!
The thought shocked her. It wasn't her voice, but the voice of her stepmother and she relived the humiliation from high school that she tried so hard to forget. The memories came crashing in too strong to stop.
She had just turned 18 and had invited a girl friend, another senior, for a study night and sleepover. They had been giggling in her room about college and what to expect in the coming months.
"You know," her friend said confidentially as if anyone could hear them outside her room, "they make you strip when you first get to the dorms. My sister told me they forced her to do it. The first night. She had to take all of her clothes off and run down the hall along with all of the other first years. It was a co-ed dorm too...even though the boys weren't supposed to have been there, they were. They took pictures..."
The thought of being forced to run naked down a hall of older students caused a reaction in Marcie she hadn't ever felt. She could feel herself getting moist...down there...and she looked up worried her friend would notice. They were still dressed, but she couldn't hide the flush in her cheeks.
"Oh stop it, Daryl. There's no way they'd do that..."
"I saw the pictures." She nodded her head. "They gave her a few as a 'memento,' is how Jean put it, but I think it was to keep her quiet in case she complained."
The idea was preposterous, but the intensity of the feelings it aroused in her were greater than anything she'd felt before.
"I bet you couldn't do it if they dared you. Jean said if you didn't do it, they made you sleep out in the hall until you agreed to. She said it was fun..." The last part Daryl barely whispered...mostly in disbelief.
The idea of being stripped naked and forced to run down the hall...Marcie couldn't concentrate on anything else for a moment or two and missed what Daryl had been saying.
"...couldn't, could you?"
"I was wondering if you can do it here in your own house, forget a dorm room. At least no one is home right now..."
She looked at her friend trying to sort out the feelings. Was Daryl gay? She'd never had an inkling of it before. Why was she daring her to do this? Equally mysterious was why she was actually thinking of taking her up on it. Her vagina was tingling and she could feel her secretions oozing a little. Daryl would know, the minute she took off her clothes she was excited by it. "Would you?"
"No big thing. Who cares if they see a little tit and bush? Besides, I wouldn't be alone, right?"
"You don't think I could do it?" She looked at her, trying to see if she was just needling her or if she really didn't think she had it in her.
"No way. Like I said, you couldn't do it tonight, right now, and it's just us two -- I've seen you naked dozens of times..."
She was buzzing now, her head felt a little light and she knew her panties were getting damp. "You really think so, huh?" She stood up, putting her pencil and book to the side. "Let's see about that." Before she could think about it, she peeled off her top, and unsnapped her jeans and slid them down. As she unsnapped her bra, she looked her friend straight in the eyes. "I don't see you getting undressed, Ms. I've-been-naked-a-hundred-times."
Her friend smiled and just shook her head. "Not necessary. I'm prepared to do it if you do, but you'll have to go through with it first." She leaned back on the bed and watched as Marcie continued to undress.
Her breasts popped out as she dropped her bra, and she hooked her panties down, exposing herself to her friend. She quickly tossed the underwear aside before Daryl could see any stains and stood up. "So...what's the big deal?"
"Okay...one circuit around the house and then I'll believe you."
She panicked at the thought of running naked outside -- it was night, but there was no way she was going to do that. "No way. Not outside..."
"Not outside, silly. Inside the house, one circuit upstairs and then down and then back up. Two minutes."
Marcie considered how likely her folks were to come home. They were at some meeting or another -- the possibility was slim but not improbable that they could be home soon. For some reason the idea of running through the house naked just kept going through her head -- being exposed in a flash through a window to any unsuspecting driver or passer by.
"Okay. But then you've got to do it." She reached for her door knob and took a breath steeling herself.
She ran out into the hallway to the stairs, Daryl looking at her from the doorway. Down the stairs, into the living room, through to the den, the front hall where anyone out on the street might see her, into the kitchen and then back to the front hall streaking back up the stairs. Daryl stared at her the entire time, a glazed look on her face.
"Okay, tough stuff. Do you have what it takes?" She stood panting on the stair landing, her fists at her hips looking at her friend. She knew she must be a sight, her small breasts heaving, her pitch black triangle of tangled hair against her white skin.
"No problem, Marcie." Daryl reached down and pulled up her shirt, exposing her breasts. She hadn't worn a bra, and as far as Marcie could see, she really should have -- Daryl's breasts were considerably larger than hers, although that wasn't too hard a bar to get over.
Daryl peeled off her shorts and Marcie was surprised to see she wasn't wearing any underwear at all. Daryl's blond hairs had a touch of gold; Marcie caught herself staring at her friend in a different way they'd seen each other naked tons of times before in the locker room, but this was different -- way more intimate.
Daryl ran down the stairs, her breasts jiggling, her buns pumping behind her with the motion of her legs. Marcie watched her move through the hall and out of sight, only to return moments later from the other direction heading back up the stairs. She was smiling at her, unashamed at exposing herself to her as she ran up the stairs.
The two ran giggling back into her room.
Marcie sat on the bed uncomfortable being naked and alone with her girlfriend in her bedroom.
"Hey!" Daryl said, throwing back her hair and sitting on the floor. She sat back on her hands, not making any moves to put on her clothes. "Have you ever looked at yourself?"
Marcie just stared at her, not comprehending. "What do you mean?"
"You know, an exam, like the doctor does?"
Marcie just shook her head a little, still confused.
"Shit, Marcie, you've been to the doctor, right? Pap smear, gynecological exam, stirrups, speculum?" Her friend grew more incredulous as Marcie just looked more confused. "Holy. Shit. You are 18 years old and you've not had a proper exam? Doesn't your mother want you to live to see 21?"