Read Online Terra Nova: An Anthology of Contemporary Spanish Science Fiction by Mariano Villarreal - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mariano Villarreal
Ads: Link
inspire.
She was nervous. Why deny it? The ritual
would take place the next term.
According to her mother,
with a little luck, the spill would be satisfactory and produce a
new existence and then finally she’d be a full and complete Ksatrya
woman —a very important step. But that was not what worried her,
but the fact that her mother had assured her that, no matter how
mentally prepared she was, her body would react with pain. No
matter how strong the connection with her assistant, it could not
be avoided.
She tried not to think about it, to convince
herself that a Ksatrya did not fear pain, and yet …
She could not stop crying. She cried from
the pain, she cried from the shame of being unable to withstand it.
Seated over Qjem, she embraced him as if her life were in him,
while her legs did not stop trembling and she felt a terrible panic
that the throbbing member inside her would start to move again and
tear her apart.
She heard him murmur
again. “It’s all right, its over,” he said again and again while he
held her tenderly and stroked her head.
Charni felt she could not let him go. And in
spite of what she had just experienced, what he had just done,
Qjem, as on that day when she put her hand on his back and
perceived that strange sensation of protection, was managing little
by little to comfort her. His whispers, his caresses, his enormous
size surrounding her body …
Finally she managed to
relax enough to regain her self-control. Her tears stopped flowing
down her cheeks. The fear of pain was still there, waiting, curled
up, but with Qjem’s help she had managed to corner it.
With great care, the elderly man separated
from her, laid her on the bed, and lay down next to her without
stopping to caress her and murmur to her, until aching and tired,
Charni fell asleep.
She awoke with a strange
pleasurable sensation in her breasts and genitals, like what Nanji
had given her during their practice sessions. Then she perceived
the weight of the old man on her and his member throbbing inside
her again. This time, the mix of her blood and fluids made it less
painful. And while Qjem groaned and kept whispering, “Come on
Charni, come on, little girl, one more time, papa won’t do you any
harm,” she thought as hard as she could about Deva. She recalled
her aroma, her flavor, her touch, the sound of her voice, her
comforting embrace.
And then all the rest ceased to be
important.
Six alarms later, after
verifying that the spill of information had not resulted in the
production of a new existence (which to Charni’s surprise left her
mother not disappointed but strangely sad), she began to do her
scheduled turns, which she combined with her classes and special
studies. That was how it would be until she was sixteen cycles old,
whether or not during that time she had produced an
existence.
When school was done, she
would probably already have a daughter under her charge to train,
either her own or the child of someone else’s close to her. The
rest of her life would remain planned like that, with no big
surprises.
After she began to take her turn, it only
took two sessions to understand why it was so important for the
initiation ritual to be assisted by an elderly man. It relaxed her
once she knew it. …
Until then she had thought it was a merely
practical consideration. The information of an elderly man was
valuable, and with it the woman in the ritual was granted the honor
of a spilling that might produce a strong man. And while that was
true, reality involved something more, much more important, in
fact.
On one hand, elderly men assumed they would
never see again, so they did not have the same urgency to satisfy
their member as a man who could still see, and they did not use all
their energy to do so. On the other hand, they felt a certain
concern for the girls aspiring to adulthood, which in some way made
the act seem more satisfactory … or less painful.
From what Charni had
She was nervous. Why deny it? The ritual
would take place the next term.
According to her mother,
with a little luck, the spill would be satisfactory and produce a
new existence and then finally she’d be a full and complete Ksatrya
woman —a very important step. But that was not what worried her,
but the fact that her mother had assured her that, no matter how
mentally prepared she was, her body would react with pain. No
matter how strong the connection with her assistant, it could not
be avoided.
She tried not to think about it, to convince
herself that a Ksatrya did not fear pain, and yet …
She could not stop crying. She cried from
the pain, she cried from the shame of being unable to withstand it.
Seated over Qjem, she embraced him as if her life were in him,
while her legs did not stop trembling and she felt a terrible panic
that the throbbing member inside her would start to move again and
tear her apart.
She heard him murmur
again. “It’s all right, its over,” he said again and again while he
held her tenderly and stroked her head.
Charni felt she could not let him go. And in
spite of what she had just experienced, what he had just done,
Qjem, as on that day when she put her hand on his back and
perceived that strange sensation of protection, was managing little
by little to comfort her. His whispers, his caresses, his enormous
size surrounding her body …
Finally she managed to
relax enough to regain her self-control. Her tears stopped flowing
down her cheeks. The fear of pain was still there, waiting, curled
up, but with Qjem’s help she had managed to corner it.
With great care, the elderly man separated
from her, laid her on the bed, and lay down next to her without
stopping to caress her and murmur to her, until aching and tired,
Charni fell asleep.
She awoke with a strange
pleasurable sensation in her breasts and genitals, like what Nanji
had given her during their practice sessions. Then she perceived
the weight of the old man on her and his member throbbing inside
her again. This time, the mix of her blood and fluids made it less
painful. And while Qjem groaned and kept whispering, “Come on
Charni, come on, little girl, one more time, papa won’t do you any
harm,” she thought as hard as she could about Deva. She recalled
her aroma, her flavor, her touch, the sound of her voice, her
comforting embrace.
And then all the rest ceased to be
important.
Six alarms later, after
verifying that the spill of information had not resulted in the
production of a new existence (which to Charni’s surprise left her
mother not disappointed but strangely sad), she began to do her
scheduled turns, which she combined with her classes and special
studies. That was how it would be until she was sixteen cycles old,
whether or not during that time she had produced an
existence.
When school was done, she
would probably already have a daughter under her charge to train,
either her own or the child of someone else’s close to her. The
rest of her life would remain planned like that, with no big
surprises.
After she began to take her turn, it only
took two sessions to understand why it was so important for the
initiation ritual to be assisted by an elderly man. It relaxed her
once she knew it. …
Until then she had thought it was a merely
practical consideration. The information of an elderly man was
valuable, and with it the woman in the ritual was granted the honor
of a spilling that might produce a strong man. And while that was
true, reality involved something more, much more important, in
fact.
On one hand, elderly men assumed they would
never see again, so they did not have the same urgency to satisfy
their member as a man who could still see, and they did not use all
their energy to do so. On the other hand, they felt a certain
concern for the girls aspiring to adulthood, which in some way made
the act seem more satisfactory … or less painful.
From what Charni had
Similar Books
