Future Steph
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Future PerfectChapter 14 free porn video
Harvest time was the one of the busiest periods in village life. Crops were planted out three times a year; the genetically modified seeds maturing in a little less than three months. On the outskirts of the village, I stood on the edge of one of the fields, viewing the stunted sheaves.
"Crops look a little poor," I told Haden.
"They look fine to me," he replied defensively.
I plucked an ear and examined the tiny grains. The field would have had farmers of my day tearing their hair out in exasperation.
"We've planted them here for as long as I can remember. They always look like this."
"Not always in the same field?" I asked.
He nodded sternly, wondering why I was being so critical. I explained the concept of crop rotation to him, and he looked at me almost as though I was an idiot.
"It would take a lot of work to prepare another field," he grumbled.
"But it would be worth it. Planting different crops each year, or just letting your livestock graze on it, would help the soil fertility enormously." I couldn't believe how such a fundamental concept had been forgotten over time.
"I thought you were a scientist, not a farmer."
"That's true, but I still know the basic principles of good agriculture."
He seemed less than enthusiastic about accepting my suggestions, happy to rely on repeating the pattern of previous generations. Unfortunately, from what I'd seen so far, this appeared to be endemic throughout their society.
"Suit yourself," I muttered, "I was only trying to help."
His attitude softened at my obvious chagrin. "Maybe we can try your suggestion with one field, provided we can get volunteers to help prepare the ground."
I nodded in acceptance, feeling a little guilty at tarring him with the same brush as the backwards-looking diehards within the citadel.
"Tomorrow we need to start harvesting each field in turn," Haden stated. "It's important to get the food into stasis as soon as possible. It has to last three months until the next crop. The next harvest will be even more important as it had to sustain us over the winter months. We barely have enough storage capacity to keep us going over that period."
I realised what a responsibility Haden shouldered, looking after the welfare of the fifty or so inhabitants. One miscalculation and they would be without food until the next harvest. Judging by the citadel's reluctance to intervene, the possibility that people would starve seemed impossible to ignore.
Leaving Haden to his preparations, I returned to the village to check on my brewing project. There were obvious signs of fermentation, and I dipped a cup into the vat to sample the results. The beer was cloudy and tasted slightly tart, with a decidedly bitter aftertaste. It certainly wouldn't win any CAMRA awards but there was already enough alcohol content to give it a sharp kick. Placing the lid back on top of the vat, I made my way to the workshop to visit Darian.
My protégé was in the final stages of constructing the second waterwheel. When placed alongside the first, it would provide enough power for everyone, and maybe even allow for a small amount of heat generation over winter. I'd already sketched out a crude system that would store up heat slowly throughout the day, and then release its energy during the night, when the cabin was at its coldest. Haden had informed me that every year, several people suffered from severe exposure during this period, and that more often than not, at least one died as a result. My system wouldn't allow anybody to walk around stark naked, but would hopefully make enough of a difference to prevent the internal temperature falling to dangerous levels.
The twentieth and twenty-first centuries were times of great innovation. I'd never claim that my ideas were original, but the real skill came in choosing which ones to implement, and assembling them from the limited resources available. I maintained a scrapbook of potential projects and then discussed each of them, one by one, with Darian. I explained their possible benefit, and how they might be constructed. He followed my explanations with great excitement, sensing how people's lives would improve as a result.
My wife Julie once bought a print entitled 'The Harvest' depicting hay gathering during the eighteenth century. She was of the firm opinion that the scenes of agriculture from that period had a certain majesty that the mechanisation and modern intensive farming somehow lost. I don't think she ever stopped to think about how such inefficient methods could ever have sustained a burgeoning population.
The memory of that picture haunted me as I watched the first field harvested by hand. Scythes cut the stalks, and then people manually separated the grain into woven baskets. The baskets were subsequently loaded into handcarts for transfer to the stasis units. It was backbreaking work that everybody became involved with, without exception. By the end of the first day, we'd completed two fields of wheat and made a start on the root vegetables. The state-of-the-art technology employed to gather in that particular crop comprised a multi-pronged fork, and a large metal bucket.
Whilst satisfying work, my muscles complained continuously, unaccustomed to the demands placed upon them after a life devoted to more sedentary activity. Having said that, I felt healthier than at any other time that I could remember. Over the past few months, my beer gut had all but disappeared. Jenny would have been proud of me.
After the incident in the workshop, Bella was never far away. I tried to distance myself from her, but she trailed me like a faithful puppy. Her activities did not go unnoticed by Darian; it was clear he was less than happy about Bella's infatuation.
Over the following few days, every single stasis unit was filled to capacity, still leaving much left over. A celebratory feast was organised to dispose of much of the surplus produce before it rotted. Several older animals from the village herd were slaughtered to provide meat, a welcome departure from the predominantly vegetarian diet that everyone was forced to follow.
My vat of fermenting liquid, I refrained from calling it beer, looked more appealing now that most of the sediments had settled to the bottom of the forty gallon container. I suspected that there would be one or two sore heads by the end of the day if we managed to consume any great quantity.
The village's central dais was decorated with ribbons and garlands of flowers. Tables were covered with bread, all manner of different fruit, and steaming joints of roasted meat. I carefully decanted my alcoholic brew into glass pitchers and, after a few moments of natural caution, people slowly began to imbibe. The fare disappeared at a rapid rate as people took advantage of one of the rare occasions when there was an abundance of food. As soon as enough alcohol permeated their systems, the atmosphere transformed completely. People lost their inhibitions and began singing and dancing, whilst several others slumped nearby, watching festivities with an idiotic grin spread across their face.
To witness the community enjoying themselves after the privations of the past month was a joy to behold. I consumed an inordinate amount of my own concoction and hardly remembered staggering back to my cabin at the end of the evening.
I tossed and turned throughout the night, dreaming about the women in my life. All had their redeeming qualities: Jenny with her heightened sexuality, Nella with her understated intellect, and Teel with her profound powers of reflection.
Whilst not the slightest bit academic, Teel had surprised me with her observations of the citadel's inherent weaknesses, and the prediction that, despite enduring for so many years, their society would collapse within the decade.
I recollected a time snuggled against her, feasting on her breasts as I plunged within her body. Her strident moans of passion propelled me to climax as I poured my tribute into her receptive sheath. Her arms gripped me tightly as we relaxed, descending from the exultant moment of passion before we drifted into quiet slumber.
Awakening the following morning, my head felt ready to split open with the aftermath of overindulgence. I gently squeezed the warm plump flesh beneath my fingers, strumming the nipples into turgidity. My cock sprang to attention, pressing between lush thighs.
I gasped as the reality of the situation dawned. Bella stirred in her sleep and rolled onto her back, confirming my fears about events of the previous evening. I pressed a finger against her delicate sex, detecting slick juices leaking from her opening.
Bella hummed contentedly as her eyes flickered open. Her fingers sought out my erection and squeezed it gently.
"Bella! I exclaimed.
"Shh," she warned, "you'll wake the others. We can do it again if we're quiet."
"Again?"
"Last night was lovely. I never thought it could feel so good."
I was about to protest, but realised how insensitive it would sound if I claimed no knowledge of what had taken place. Regardless of my level of intoxication, I realised I had to take responsibility for my actions. I took Bella into my embrace and we kissed passionately, a prelude for what inevitably followed.
Despite her request for caution, Bella seemed incapable of restraint during sex. She moaned continuously and screamed noisily at the moment of crisis, probably waking the entire community, unless they were still anaesthetised by the alcohol. Movement from nearby disturbed my reverie as Haden emerged from his bedroom and headed for the shower. He flashed us a quick grin as we wallowed in the aftermath of our indulgence.
Gem was the first to congratulate us on our partnering, which it appeared was now a fait accompli. A procession of well-wishers delivered a series of token gifts, with Darian conspicuous by his absence. I took everything in my stride, accepting where fate had propelled me. Whilst not in the same league as any of my previous companions, Bella was still a beautiful and much sought-after partner.
Haden informed me that it would be unrealistic for us to remain within their cabin, and that it was customary in such circumstances for the villagers to collaborate to construct more suitable accommodation. Realising the futility of argument, I thanked him for his hospitality over the previous weeks.
I found Darian sulking in his workshop, and was thankful that he bore me no malice.
"It just kind of happened," I excused myself feebly.
"Bella knows her own mind," he replied dolefully. "I hope you're both happy together."
I realised what an effort it probably took him to utter the words, the disappointment clear to see in his every nuance. I embraced him and explained how he was still a great friend, and that he would still see Bella from day to day. He mumbled something indistinct, and then disappeared to find a quiet place to console himself. I felt incredibly sorry to dash his hopes, particularly in light of the way it had come about, but felt determined to make my relationship with Bella work.
Over the following two weeks, wood was gathered and the framework for a new cabin was erected. Bella skipped around happily at the prospect of her own home; watching each day as it slowly transformed from a jumble of spars and trusses, into the beginnings of a comfortable abode. Haden and Darian installed the heating system, the latter having finally come to terms with his loss, and become his normal sociable self.
The development was used as an excuse to test out the new heat storage system. The onset of autumn ushered in the start of chill evenings that would only become more severe as it gave way to winter.
Haden developed a keen interest in brewing. I passed along all my tips and suggested ways that he might improve and experiment with the process, which he seemed keen to attempt.
With a bit of cajoling, we cleared an uncultivated field in preparation for receiving new seed in a few weeks. The final harvest would have to sustain the community over the long winter, and it was clearly a risk for him to put faith in my untested proposal. Two waterwheels were now running at full capacity alongside one another, and the village had more power than they could currently use. When rolled out across the village, the storage system would absorb the majority of this surplus.
Bella and I took up residence in our new home, even before it was finished. She surprised me with her hitherto unsuspected domesticity, toiling long hours to instil a degree of comfort into the somewhat Spartan surroundings. I became caught up in her enthusiasm, helping her with the heavier jobs that her diminutive frame struggled to cope with. The efforts brought us closer together, and I began to feel deep affection for the teenager.
Lacking a proper bed, we made love each night on a small down-filled mattress that rested on the wooden floor. I felt a little guilty at my involvement with somebody half my age, but nobody else seemed to give it a second thought.
The day that the shipment of new grain arrived, I decided to make myself scarce. The prospect of Tamar at the controls of the transport flyer filled me with trepidation. As it turned out, the pair of Guardians that piloted the craft were ones that I'd never seen before, but I kept out of sight anyway. They delivered over twenty sacks of seed for various types of crop, and the next few days were spent getting it in the ground before it drew the attention of marauding Trogs, or similar such scroungers.
The newly cultivated field was set aside for grain as I felt it offered the best chance to demonstrate my theory. I also persuaded Haden to swap several fields from grain to vegetable production and vice versa, hoping that a similar improvement in productivity would be evident.
Darian and I gradually equipped each dwelling with the new heating units, as the results from my cabin were proving highly encouraging. During the cool evenings, the heat radiating from the prototype drew us like moths to a flame. Bella and I would snuggle beside it, until we could warm ourselves up by other more strenuous activities.
Miracle
- 30.07.2020
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