Chapter 2 The Nuclear Option
This second incarnation of the Hatter, there is conundrum indeed. Nothing has prepared me, no one has forewarned me, suddenly alone without friend or family in an endless ocean of time. The physics I understand, had I not been blessed with the best education, the foremost teachers, but no degree of learning could prepare my soul for the emptiness of a solitary journey through eternity.
December two thousand thirteen, the scent of snow was in the air. The world had been rocked by one natural disaster after another and I was feeling lonely.
Survival seems an accomplishment when the one of two choices and I had attained that goal, ripped myself from the path of self destruction that beckoned so seductively and chosen confinement within this prison instead. The decision was made on the roll of a dice. I would like to claim a modicum of interest as to the outcome but in all honesty my essence's balance continued purely by chance without particular desire either way. To continue theorizing esthetically was as much an anathema to me as finality but in respect to my society's ethics I felt some obligation to lay that decision at an independent door rather than to be pointedly omnipotent. The dice showed six and in respect to such overwhelming odds I grudgingly decided to take another breathe.
Companions had always been a weakness. Choice was not my strong point, attracted easily by look or sentiment I seldom made decisions based on anything but chance and gut reaction, neither diagnostically proved to inspire confidence in the fullness of time. She was the eighth I had allowed into my being, permitted to feed more of my true nature than just physical craving or intellectual boredom. I had initially considered just using her for momentary amusement but that particular string had reached such lengthy proportions that another dalliance seemed totally pointless. Sexual release has never been a necessity for me, ejaculation a decided second to the immense pleasure found in the total sating of my partners senses. Indeed my only reason for the production of precious seed was as the final overwhelming act to cement utter submission.
She was defenseless. Her last climax had seemed to lift her body clear of all connection with the duvet to hover weightless as fluid poured from her orifices with uncontrollable force to gather in a glistening pool between her parted thighs. I drank as she came, imbibed her essence ravenously and felt life fill me anew. The swollen lips of her labia lay open and pulsing with the unrepentant force of her release. My fingertips traced their luxuriant contours marveling at the texture of velveteen opulescence. She stirred a little, barely conscious still but aware enough of my touch to release a deep sigh. Suddenly I felt the need to take her. Fill the wanton core of her being with my presence. I shuddered and in that momentarily loss of composure knew the perfect symmetry of celestial conjunction.
My first companion seems like a dream now. Memories of her smell and touch nudge at me from deep within my soul but real recollections are separated by the passage of too much time. It was my first metamorphosis, when all I was and all I had envisaged melted from my being like a fine sprinkling of snow under the radiant suns penetrating glare. In that moment I was naked, new born, without form or purpose. Then she the Princess of the Nile my first true love stepped into the brightness. How we loved, like caged beasts freed at last our couplings shook the ground with force enough to uproot mighty trees. Endless frenzied passion followed. An ever faster twisting hurricane of desperate desire consuming all before and leaving only destruction in its wake, till unable to hold together under any natural law fragmented into a thousand tiny pieces never to be seen again.
