Journal Journal: Primal Magic
I wrote this half finished story while being tortured by my government.
https://www.ontarioadministrativesegregation.ca/home.html
CHAPTER 1
The sun was just transitioning from that beautiful kaleidoscope of color called sunrise to the clear blue skies of morning when the train came to a stop. Randolph and his wife Sara disembarked, and watched as their shipping container of homesteading equipment was unloaded and placed beside the line. Sara wrapped her arm around him and laid her head against the side of his chest, and he placed his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in snug against his body as the two of them surveyed the allotment of land that was now their home.
It was a 12 acre plot, had 200 meters of train line frontage, and was clear cut out to a distance of 10 meters on either side of the train line, with wild forest beyond that, and the southern edge curved gently along Lake Tourmaline. It was flat where it was bisected by the train line, but sloped gently down towards the lake, and upwards at a greater angle the further north of the train line it went.
The train line was a standard, split level elevated line, with space for a high speed train in each direction on top, and a slower local train in each direction below. It carried both electricity and communications, in addition to transporting citizens and freight. Their shipping container had been lowered to the ground and connected to the line with a thick cable, and had walked itself into place and levelled itself on its stubby legs. Once they had unloaded it, it would provide them temporary shelter until they had finished transforming their land and building a more permanent home for themselves, after which it would be reused by another newlywed couple like themselves, preparing to build a family homestead of their own.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?", Sara said, clutching her husband tightly for another moment before shrugging free of his embrace. "Hard to believe it's really ours.", she smiled.
"It sure is. Beautiful and wild, like you were, before I put that ring on your finger.", he laughed.
"I hardly think so.", she smirked at him. "You were the wild one. Everyone thought you were untameable, but I caught you, and now I'm going to domesticate you."
Randolph grinned. "Well, that's why we're here."
"But, before you do, lets take a walk down to the lake and go for an early morning swim."
"See, that's why I married you... that beautiful mind of yours!" She grinned back at him.
"You're going to clear a path for me, right?"
"Of course, my queen... you just follow me, I won't lead you astray. Just let me fetch a machete from âThe House.'"
The storage container had automatically extended a set of steps out after it had positioned and levelled itself, and he stepped up and let himself inside. It was cram packed with equipment, but the containers were standardized, and he had been taught where everything was and how to use it... they both had. It wasn't long before he emerged with two and a half feet of sharp steel belted around his waist.
"Let us be off, my darling little wife! The lake awaits!
The two of them walked hand in hand through the forest, until they approached the dense tangle of brush that filled the space between the forest and the pebble strewn lakeside beach, at which point Randolph moved to take the lead, slashing a path through the brush.
Sara followed her husband with a happy smile on her face, looking this way and that, picturing how they would reshape the land to support themselves and the family they would start together. She was more than capable of making her own way, of course, but she found it romantic, watching him tame the wilderness on her behalf, and she knew that her little performance made him feel happy, transforming a sweaty, mundane chore into something that made him feel proud and a little heroic.
She was right, of course. By the time they arrived at the lake Randolph was covered in sweat and his arms were covered with scratches, but he was filled with a self-satisfied feeling of achievement and contentment. He wiped his blade on the leg of his pants before sliding it back in its sheath.
The lake was a deep blue. There were lily pads and rushes clustered along the shore, and the newlyweds could see frogs and dragonflies moving among them. There was a natural pebble beach between the brush and the shore, not soft on the feet by any stretch of the imagination, but it was clear of vegetation and soil. The water looked cool and inviting.
"Oh, this is just perfect!", Sara exclaimed.
"It sure is.", Randolph agreed. "And, private, too.", he continued, with a suggestive tone in his voice and a sly look in his eye.
Sara could feel a heat rising within her that had nothing to do with the execution of the hike. "Very private.", she agreed, untying her hair and pulling her top over her head, her small, pert breasts momentarily revealed before being obscured by her long flowing hair.
Randolph took a moment to appreciate the sight of his beautiful wife before shrugging out of his shirt and moving forward to embrace her petite body in his arms, tilting his head down to her uplifted face and kissing her lips, gently at first, then with greater passion. She fumbled for a moment opening his pants, then pulled them down to fall in a tangle around his boots. She pulled back.
"Perhaps we should go for a swim and cool off.", she said, flushed with excitement.
"Right. Of course. Swim. Right."
The two of them stripped down and waded into the lake, Randolph wincing a bit as the water reached his crotch. Despite having given him a âheadstart', so to speak, Sara made her way to deeper water first. She dove into the cool, refreshing water and swam away from shore.
Randolph took a few moments to admire her nymph-like form as she flowed through the water with smooth strokes, then dove in after her.
It wasn't long before he caught up with her, and the two of them splashed and frolicked in the water like teenagers for a while before swimming back to shore.
As they were wading the final few meters towards dry ground, Randolph swept Sara up in his arms and gazed once more into her eyes.
"So, now that we've âcooled off', lets heat ourselves back up.", he said, swinging her to face him, gripping her firm ass with his left hand and her lower back with his right.
Her dark eyes smouldered with lust as she placed her small feet on his calves, guided his hard shaft to her wetness and slowly sank down upon it, biting her lips as she did. She was only able to take three quarters of his length at first, but soon she was sliding all the way down before lifting up until just his head was inside her. She leaned back, trusting her husband to support her as she laced her hands behind her neck and bounced slowly up and down on his hardness.
Randolph leaned back, his mouth hanging open in pleasure as he gazed at the sky with a vacant look on his face, listening to the panting noises interspersed with soft moans as he allowed her to set the pace.
Before long, he heard her cry out and felt her tighten, gripping him harder, and knew she had reached her climax.
He gazed briefly into her vacant eyes as she relaxed and softened in his arms, and took control of her, a low growling noise coming from his throat as he held her tightly and fucked her harder and harder, allowing his bestial, animalistic side to take over. He heard her cry out and tighten with a second climax, but it was like a sound from far away... he was too intensely focused. Finally, he felt his own climax arrive, and plunged into her hard, letting out a roar that consumed his mind utterly, long and loud, like a lion. Spots swam before his eyes, and he sank to his knees in the cold water.
Sara extricated herself from the tangle they had become and walked the last few meters to shore, smiling. She loved the way her husband went from powerful to helpless so suddenly, it never ceased to amaze her. She found a flat stone to sit on and allow the sun to dry her as Randolph crawled to dry land and collapsed like a drunk on the smooth pebbles.
A short while later, the two of them made their way back to their shipping container home and were unloading their equipment, clearing space for them to live. Randolph organized the equipment they would use to clear the trees and build, while Sara set up their food preparation equipment, organized their home to make it a little more comfortable, and began making their lunch.
The most important tools they had brought were the two battery powered all terrain vehicles. These came with a variety of useful attachments, such as ploughs and digging arms. They could be driven around and operate under their own power, but if necessary, they could be connected to the train line via a power cable for periods of extended operation beyond what their batteries would support. They had also brought two cargo trailers, one for each ATV. In addition, they had brought a sizable collection of hand held, battery driven power tools. These operated in a similar fashion to the ATVs, being capable of operating under their own power, or, of plugging into the ATVs if extended periods of operation was required. Finally, there was a selection of simple hand-held tools, such as the machete Randolph had used earlier.
By the time Randolph had finished assembling the modular shed and moved the hand held tools into it, their shipping container "home" was quite spacious for two people.
Sara, meanwhile, had organized their kitchen and food supplies. Eventually, they would grow the vast majority of their food on their own land, only resupplying from outside their homestead once or twice a season.
But until that time, they had a large, fully stocked freezer, a large pantry of dried and canned food, and a large refrigerator which they would restock on a weekly basis, either having supplies delivered by train or going to the nearest town in person, depending on how they felt at the time.
Sara had always loved to cook. She saw it as a fine art. Except, art was concerned only with stimulating sight. Cooking stimulated your eyes first, then your nose, and finally your senses of taste and touch. The cook had a much greater variety of means to reach her audience, a much greater responsibility. And, it didn't matter how well documented the recipe or how much effort went into standardizing the ingredients... no two dishes were ever the same. The experience could be shared by those who were present when it was created, but never again would that precise experience be recreated. It was a most intimate form of art, she thought to herself... that was why she loved it. Food and sex. The stuff of life. Primal magic.
Sara had prepared a simple but tasty dish of poached fish, rice and a side salad, and Randolph poured them each a glass of wine to celebrate. The two of them sat on the steps and ate their first meal together on their new land.
"This is delicious, sweetheart. I have no idea how you make such amazing food when everyone starts with the same ingredients as everyone else, but please don't ever stop!", Randolph said, pausing to take a sip of his wine.
"It's primal magic.", she said with a wink. "And, no ingredients are ever the same. Until you realize that, you can't even start. But, thank you... it's nice to be appreciated." his wife replied, smiling.
After they had finished their meal and polished off the remainder of the wine bottle, they sat together for a short time, silently enjoying each others company, before taking a walk to the site of their future home.
They had already determined where it would be, close to the lake, where the land was flatter, the water closer, and any harvested food or shipments that arrived could be brought downhill rather than uphill. But they wanted to feel the ground for themselves.
And so they put on long sleeves and long pants, outfitted themselves with machetes, and walked the route their road would take, to the site of their future home. It was a short stroll, and there were no surprises to be had, but it felt good to do it.
Once they returned from their walk, Randolph fetched a chainsaw and began felling trees, clearing the path the road would follow. As each tree was felled, he removed the branches and cut it into logs 20" in length. Then Sara removed the bark with a machete, loaded the logs into a cargo trailer using the light crane attachment on the ATV, then towed them close to their future house site for splitting and stacking. They would need to age for two years before they would be fit to build with.
Randolph had felled and processed 4 trees in this way when he switched to debarking and moving logs with the second ATV, and it was approaching suppertime when they had all been stripped of bark and transported.
Sara drove her ATV back, parked it, and began organizing their evening meal, while Randolph gathered the piles of sawdust and bagged them. He made no great effort to be thorough, but it would make useful insulation in two years time, so he saved what was easy to gather, then set up their wood splitter near where they planned to stack and dry their wood. By the time he was finished these tasks, Sara was calling him for dinner.
She was tired, despite having only worked half of the day, it was an emotional and exciting day, so she prepared a simple but hearty meal of grilled steak, grilled vegetables, salad and garlic bread. It was straightforward to prepare, but she knew her husband would appreciate it.
She was right. Randolph grinned when he saw the meal she had chosen.
"Fit for a king! You spoil me! I'm going to have a beer with mine... what about you, my delicious little queen?", he asked.
"I'll have a glass of red wine, thanks. But wash up first, you're covered in tree sap!" she said, wrinkling her nose.
"Yes, mum.", he teased. "Perhaps I should connect our water system up to the lake, it won't last long once we start washing with it."
"You can do that tomorrow, honey. Just clean up and lets enjoy the evening. I'll pack a basket and we can eat by the lake.", she decided.
"Sounds good to me.", he agreed.
Before long the two of them were lying on a blanket on the beach, eating and drinking beside a campfire Randolph had quickly built.
After their meal was finished, they laid together and watched the sunset turn to night, holding hands and listening to the frogs sing. Eventually, drunk and sleepy, they made their way home by moonlight and went to bed.
CHAPTER TWO
Randolph awoke early the next morning. Sara was still fast asleep, looking tousle-headed and adorable, and he made no effort to rouse her. He threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, put a pot of coffee on to brew and quietly let himself out. He wasn't sure how much water they had used, but he knew how much Sara loved her hot showers, so he took the time to hook their water filtration system up to the hose and run it down to the lake, and ran the greywater hose to a suitable place where it would enrich the soil without damaging any sensitive ecosystems.
By the time he had finished and let himself inside, his wife was happily humming to herself in the kitchen, and the air was filled with the aroma of fresh coffee and fried bacon.
"The water systems are hooked up, hon, if you want to take a shower.", Randolph said. "Breakfast almost ready? Smells great.", he continued, pouring himself a black coffee and sitting at their small but functional dinner table.
"Ah, so that's where you went! Thank you, Randy, yes, I would love a hot shower! And, yes, breakfast is ready to go."
She served up two plates of bacon, fried eggs, hash browned potatoes, fried mushrooms, toasted bread and baked beans, poured two glasses of milk and two glasses of orange juice, then topped up her mug of coffee before joining him at the table.
"Dig in, don't let it get cold!", she said with a smile.
"You know I don't like starting without you, babe.", he replied before tucking into his meal.
Breakfast was as delicious as he'd come to expect, but he made sure to tell her so as he ate, dunking the crisp bacon in the runny egg yolk, appreciating the seasoning on the potatoes and the oily soft texture of the mushrooms, piling the beans on his first piece of toast, then sopping up everything he'd missed with the second piece.
He'd guzzled the milk before eating, and he cleansed his palate with the acidity of the orange juice before sitting back, sighing contentedly, and sipping his black coffee as he watched his beautiful wife finish her meal.
"Damn I love you, woman.", he said.
Something about his tone made her blush, and she lowered her eyes demurely from his gaze, picking at her food.
There was a tension in the air. He didn't act on it, but he didn't break it, either... just allowed it to exist and enjoyed it. It ebbed and flowed between them as they sat silently, until eventually, like a wave crashing on the beach, it broke. He smiled as she resumed her more assertive demeanor.
"Are you going to take care of the dishes for me?", she asked. "I'd like to take that shower now.", she said with a gentle smile.
"Sure, you go ahead. I'll sort this out."
Sara hummed happily to herself as she slipped out of her robe and climbed into the shower stall. It wasn't large, and it was clearly designed to collapse into the wall when it wasn't in use, but she was a petite woman, so she didn't feel cramped as she washed her long hair and soaped herself, wondering if her husband would join her or not.
Randolph had taken his time, enjoying his coffee and washing up the dishes, but it wasn't a big job cleaning up. He disrobed and slid in behind his wife just as she was rinsing herself clean.
"Hello, sexy. Want to wash my back for me?", he asked, wrapping his arms around her from behind and tweaking her nipples.
"How am I supposed to do that when you're behind me?", she asked seductively, lifting herself up on her toes and arching her back, rubbing her tiny little ass up against his crotch.
"You have a point.", he said, as he lowered down enough to penetrate her, pulling his foreskin forward to ease his entry. He slid himself all the way to the root in one smooth stroke, and she gasped, grabbing at the wall for support but finding none, she did her best to brace herself as he lifted her entirely off the floor. He wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her up against him, and teased at her clit with her other hand while he thrust into her. She finally grabbed hold of the shower head with both hands, feeling tiny and helpless, like a rag doll, with the water half-drowning her every time she tried to gasp. She orgasmed quickly, her tunnel grabbing him tightly, like a fist, and he grunted as it pushed him over the edge, shooting his seed deep inside her. He held her there for several long moments, plugging her up so nothing leaked out, until he finally softened inside her, only then setting her on her feet, her knees wobbly and weak.
"Wow." was all she said, slipping past him and collapsing to the floor. He chuckled, and turned his attention to cleaning himself up.
Once the two of them were dried off and dressed, they made their way down to their house site with their ATVs and spent the morning clearing the space where they would be stacking their wood to dry, cutting trees and removing bark. As noon approached, Sara went off to prepare their lunch, while Randolph busied himself setting up their wood splitter. It was a quick job, so he began splitting and stacking the cordwood that their house would be built of until his phone rang and Sara let him know that lunch was ready.
She had prepared chicken breasts, stuffed with cheese and spinach and then grilled, along with grilled vegetables and a salad of mixed greens, berries and fruit, with a homemade vinaigrette dressing.
The two of them decided to make a picnic of it, and sauntered down to the lake with a bottle of wine to enjoy their meal together.
After they had finished their lunch and gone for a swim, Randolph took a break from the task of felling, cutting, splitting and stacking trees to set up their mesh nodes, while Sara spent the afternoon organizing their living space, checking her messages, surfing the mesh and preparing a more involved meal for their dinner.
She had assigned a childhood friend named Joshua her vote, and she saw there was a notification that he had reassigned his vote, and therefore her vote, to a man named Bruce Smith, and that the final decision maker, the person who didn't elect anyone, but voted on each issue, had changed to Ralph Clinton as a consequence. She could have investigated further, but she trusted Joshua's judgement.
There were a few messages from friends and family, inquiring how the two newlyweds were fairing on their new homestead. She replied to each of them, telling them how happy she was, and that the two of them were doing well. She watched a few funny videos online, then began preparing a roast for dinner that evening, listening to some music by her favourite retro punk band âThe Grinders' as she did.
Meanwhile, Randolph grabbed his tools and some mesh nodes and set off to set them up around their property.
Mesh nodes were the backbone of the Global Mesh, and of the Responsive Electoral Process. Driven by solar power, they had the capacity to route data and communications from point to point, similarly to how âThe Internet' had done in the past. Unlike the Internet, however, the Mesh became faster as more nodes connected and more routes became available, while the Internet had gotten slower and more congested with the passage of time, which was part of what had led to its replacement.
More importantly, mesh nodes provided the trail of evidence that helped make the Responsive Electoral Process resistant to vote tampering. Every vote or election was stored on the phone of the person casting it, but it was also recorded in a non-rewriteable fashion on many different mesh nodes. The fact that any citizen could manufacture and set up mesh nodes was what had made tyranny impossible and led to the Global Unification.
Practical considerations aside, it was considered a civic duty to set them up. Tampering with a mesh node was tantamount to treason. By transforming their plot of lant into a perennial, sustainable forest ecosystem composed of plants that produce food for mankind and covering it with mesh nodes, Randolph and his wife were helping create a better world for their children. A new golden age of mankind.
Randolph began at the train lines, at the eastern edge of their property. The train line was, in addition to everything else that it was, a continuous line of mesh nodes, so he made sure to ensure a good connection to it.
Once he'd arrived at his starting point, he hiked north along the properties edge, uphill and away from the lake. It was a nice day, and it wasn't long before he worked up a sweat. The forest wasn't particularly dense, but the incline increased as he went. He kept an eye on the signal strength, and once it began to dip slightly, he backtracked, looking for a sunny spot to install the first node.
It wasn't long before he found a rocky area that was relatively clear of vegetation. He drilled a hole in the rock, placed the node and secured it with a bolt. Satisfied, he continued north along the edge of the property. Once he'd reached a rocky cliff near the northern edge, he repeated the process, hanging this node off a rocky outcrop facing south. He worked his way along the cliff, pausing from time to time to appreciate the view. He crossed over a stream that fell off the cliff and pooled down below before running down to the lake, making a mental note of its location, then secured a third node to the cliff before continuing west until he'd reached the western edge of their property. There was still plenty of signal, but he secured a fourth node anyway.
Once he'd secured the fourth node, he took a few minutes to sit and examine , and the terrain. The lake was vaguely the shape of a kidney bean, fed by numerous small streams coming from the north, and drained off to the east in what could just barely be called a river.
There was a small island in the middle of it, not large enough for any significant animal life, but there were a few small trees. It would be large enough for a picnic. He could see a flock of geese paddling about. He pulled out his phone and snapped a few pictures and sent them to his wife.
"Hi hon. I'm up on top of the cliff at the northwestern corner of our property enjoying the view, and thought you might like to see. I've installed four mesh nodes so far. Is dinner almost ready?"
He sat, relaxing for a few minutes, and was about to make his way back to a less steep area and descend when his phone rang.
"Hi Randy! Sorry, I was just checking on the roast. That view looks gorgeous! Maybe we should go explore that island later. And, yes, dinner should be ready by the time you get home if you leave now.", Sara said excitedly. She always did get excited easily, it was part of why he loved her.
"Sounds good. I'll leave the rest of the nodes for tomorrow and head straight back. See you soon!"
He hung up, then made his way back east to where the climb was easier.
Sara had dinner waiting by the time he'd gotten home, and was playing a video game and sipping red wine while she waited for him to arrive. He cleaned himself up and poured himself a glass of wine while she served each of them a plate of roast beef, mashed potatoes and asparagus spears, and they sat down to eat.
"This is delicious, Sara.", he complimented her, washing down the pink roast beef with tart red wine.
She just smiled. "Thanks for sending me those pictures. What should we do after supper, do you think? We'll have to make a canoe one of these days and paddle out to that island, but I"m not really in the mood to swim tonight."
"We could take the ATVs out for a spin around the lake, if you like... do a little exploring."
"That sounds like fun. Maybe you can nab me one of those geese, and I can make it for dinner tomorrow.", she suggested.
"You have to dress it though. I'll handle making it delicious if you take care of the icky parts."
She grinned, having another sip of wine.
"I'll see what I can do. If that doesn't come together, we could make a campfire and do a little fishing, then curl up early and watch a movie in bed.", he replied, pouring each of them another glass of wine and enjoying the way it paired with the meat. "This roast is so good I have to close my eyes when I chew it."
Sara watched him do exactly that, and smiled devilishly as he made a soft moaning sound as he savoured his food.
"You are so sexy when you eat, Randy.", she said. Seeing and hearing his reaction to her cooking was turning her on, and she had had quite a bit to drink.
She tossed back a large swallow of the tart red wine and slipped under the table, undoing the fly of his pants and drawing out his flaccid cock with her tiny hands.
Her husband opened his eyes with a start. He smiled down on her, his eyes sparkling.
"But hon, you haven't finished your supper yet!", he said with mock innocence.
"Don't you worry about me. You just keep eating and enjoy.", she said firmly.
Randolph took another sip of wine and another bite of the roast beef and allowed his head to fall back as he let the flavours mingle in his mouth. His wife held him firmly by the root and let her mouth go soft, applying no pressure, just letting his soft cock slide gently along her tongue, in and out. He let the sensations carry him away, making no effort to control her, enjoying his meal slowly.
Sara paused for a moment to take another large swallow of wine before resuming her slow, soft ministrations.
She loved the feeling as he grew larger in her mouth while remaining soft, the sensuous looks her husband made, and the soft moaning noises he made, his mouth still full of food.
Randolph was beginning to feel lightheaded. He paid no attention to the vegetables on his plate, just enjoyed the red wine, red meat and red hot blowjob his wife was giving him. He was finally starting to get fully hard, and running out of red meat. But he had no urge to act at all, simply leaned back in his chair, chewing the last of his meat, washing it down with the remainder of his glass of wine, and let himself relax utterly, his arms dangling by his side.
Sara began to move faster, applying suction and pressure and stroking him with her hands now that he was fully hard. She slid him into her throat, massaging his balls with her hands, stroked him that way for a bit, slid him almost out of her mouth and swirled his head with her tongue, then took him in her throat again, over and over. He was moaning constantly now, and jerking spasmodically. She knew he wouldn't last much longer.
Finally, she felt his balls tighten, and she took him to the back of her throat and swallowed, over and over, listening to the whimpering sounds he made as he came.
Randolph was completely helpless as he fell out of his chair in a heap on the floor. Dizzy, lightheaded, his extremities tingling, he couldn't stand to save his life, and didn't try, just stared at his wife vacantly as she stood up, wiping her mouth and taking another sip of wine. She smirked down at him, satisfied, and sat to pick at her food and drink more wine.
"That's what you get for almost drowning me in the shower this morning.", she said, feeling quite smug.
By the time he got to his feet, his plate had been cleared away, and his wife had opened another bottle of wine and was surfing the mesh.
"Ah, you're alive!" She paused. "I'm drunk. I don't want to go anywhere. I found us a movie to watch. Lets curl up in bed and drink more wine."
Randolph smiled, pouring himself another glass of wine.
"Sounds good to me."
Life continued in this way for another week. The two of them finished setting up their mesh, cleared the space where their woodpile would be stacked, cleared the site where their house would be built, cleared a roadway from the train line to the house site and to the lake. They split and stacked the wood to dry, they ate the delicious meals that Sara prepared, and they had great sex every day, whenever the mood struck them. They were always occupied, but there was no urgency to their work. They paused to swim, to hike, to read, whenever the mood struck them, but they were happy to be building something that was theirs, and would one day house and feed their children.
On their ninth day, they decided to make their first trip into town. They had made sufficient progress that Randolph felt ready to lay their foundations, so he placed an order for the additional supplies and equipment they would need, and Sara ordered foodstuffs and household items. That afternoon, the local elevated train bound for Halifax stopped to pick them up.
All of the local, low speed cars were capable of lowering themselves on cables to the ground below, but or passenger pickups outside of densely populated areas, there were smaller âelevator' cars that were almost cubical in shape, and it was one of these that they boarded, as another car filled with the supplies they had ordered was deposited.
Once the car had elevated back to the train line and coupled itself to the cars ahead and behind, the train resumed its journey, and they made their way to a passenger car, where they could sit and enjoy the view.
Sara preferred the low speed local trains. The high speed trains that ran above were much faster, capable of breaking the speed of sound, but they were sealed off in airless tubes and it was impossible to enjoy the scenery. The local trains dangled underneath them, and were not capable of moving much faster than 100 kilometers per hour. Still fast, but not so much that you couldn't appreciate the landscape.
Halifax was a major hub, a place where manufactured goods and raw materials moved from sea to land, from land to sea. Their homestead was along a major line, between the port hub of Halifax and the tidal power generation station at Cape Split.
Since the unification, geopolitical divisions had become a thing of the past, and the people had spread out across the landscape to a much greater degree than in times before. Automation in resource gathering and recycling, decentralized custom manufacturing, the global mesh and the responsive electoral process had rendered the old economic and political systems obsolete and created a world where abundance and leisure were the norm. There was no need for people to gather together in cities like they once did, so, for the most part, they didn't.
Hubs were, therefore, dedicated mostly to practical purposes, and incidentally to social purposes. Commerce was a thing of the past, recreation and creative expression had taken its place as the driving force behind most human activity.
That said, the desire to feel responsible, to feel that one was the master of ones own fate and intimately connected to that which kept mankind alive still lived within the human spirit.
This desire, combined with the tremendous advancements in processes and technology, ensured that there were always more hands than needful work. Those who laboured always did so out of desire, never necessity. Only those who did needful work could vote on executive matters, those who lived leisurely lives could only vote on legislative matters. Power would always motivate some people. The system worked better than any before.
When the two of them arrived, the entire local train lowered to the ground, and they joined the crowd of disembarking people.
Randolph and Sara made their way to a waiting vehicle, identified themselves, and climbed into the back. Sara was the more social and adventurous of the two, and she had planned their vacation based on research she'd done during the last week, for which Randolph was very glad. He was a very practical minded, problem solving sort of a man. While he very much enjoyed the sensory experiences his tiny little wife brought to his life, he found most of the little choices his wife delighted in to be very trivial, and that made them stressful in a way that she simply couldn't relate to. Organizing a practical system that supported the lives of billions of people had an optimal solution that was evident to him, which, in his mind, relieved him of any responsibility for the decisions that he made. If there was only one self-evident choice, there was no choice.
Choosing which restaurant to eat at, on the other hand, was a trivial choice with no obvious perfect solution, and left him in a position where he had to search for and justify a reason for his choice. It stressed him out and made him unhappy, which was a big part of why he loved his wife.
Sara had planned a trip full of things that she thought were cool, things that seemed exciting, and things that gave her a good feeling. If Randolph had tried to force her to justify her choices, she would have been angry with him, and would have been completely unable to do so in any concrete terms that he would understand. The fact that he never asked her to do so, but simply supported her unconditionally, this was a big part of why she had married him.
He very rarely demanded anything of her, and when he did, she trusted that there was a very good reason for it, one that she didn't have the patience to understand. She always surrendered to his demands instantly, without question.
But, at this moment, they were here to engage in some social hedonism, and their first destination was a Brazilian steakhouse called "Flavours of Recife". There were a number of famous chefs who had chosen to make Halifax their home because, being such a major shipping hub, it gave them the opportunity to use ingredients from all around the world, and serve food to a large number of people, feeding their desire for celebrity and recognition. Sara herself had worked in hospitality before she had married Randolph. She got real enjoyment from the creative side of the work, and seeing other people enjoy what she created had made her feel meaningful and important. But, that was before she had met Randolph. Now, she wanted to start a family with him, and have a greater level of involvement in the lives of a few special people, rather than a superficial involvement in the lives of a large number of people.
Primal Magic.
Still, she was looking forward to experiencing "Flavours of Recife".
The restaurant was busy when they arrived, couples, parties of four, six and eight sitting, eating, drinking and talking together. The hostess confirmed their reservation, took their coats and escorted them to their table for two. Randolph pulled out the chair for his wife, and she smiled at him as she sat, appreciating his gallantry. The two of them observed the hustle and bustle of the place for a few moments before a server arrived.
"Welcome! I'm Paula, I'll be your waitress this evening. Is this your first time at a Brazilian steakhouse?"
"Yes, it is.", Randolph replied.
"Wonderful! You're in for a unique experience. The way our restaurant works is, you each have a button."
Paula pointed at the red discs sitting beside their plates.
"Our servers are constantly making their way around the restaurant with skewers of food, and if they see that your button is green"
Paula reached out and flipped the disc beside Randolph's plate, revealing that it was green on the other side.
"They will stop to offer you some of whatever meat or grilled vegetables they have."
"If you want some, they will slice off pieces for you, which you grab with your tongs"
Paula pointed at the tongs beside each of their plates.
"And move the food to your plate."
"If you are full, or your plate is full, or you simply don't wish to be interrupted, just turn your button back to red."
Paula flipped Randolphs button back over, revealing its red side.
"And they won't interrupt you. You are encouraged to eat as much or as little of anything you like, and I will check on you regularly to ensure you have enough to drink, exchange your plates for clean ones, and address any other needs you might have."
She smiled at them both.
"Do you have any questions?"
Randolph looked inquiringly at his wife, and she gave a minuscule shake of her head.
"No, thank you, it seems quite straightforward.", he replied.
"Well, just one.", he added. "What sort of wine do you recommend?"
"We have an excellent, tart red wine from California, âZigrast 1990', it pairs very well with grilled meat, and is in demand at the moment. Shall I bring you a bottle?"
"Yes, please. That sounds excellent."
"I'll be back shortly with your wine. Please, enjoy your meal!"
Paula hurried away to fetch their drinks.
"It's sort of like Chinese âDim Sum', isn't it?", Sara commented as the two of them flipped their buttons over to expose the green side. "Although, if it was âDim Sum', they would put our plates in the centre for us to pick at."
"Yep", Randolph replied. "Or, like an all you can eat buffet that comes to your table."
Sara laughed. "Yes, I suppose that's a better description.", she agreed.
"Steak?"
A handsome Brazilian man stood at their table. He was holding a skewer of thick steaks in one hand, with a contraption on the end to catch drippings, and a sharp knife in the other. His attention was on Sara.
"Yes, please.", she smiled, delighted.
The server held the skewer over her plate and sliced most of the way through a large chunk of meat, then paused, waiting for her. When she didn't react, he prompted her.
"Your tongs, miss."
"Ah, yes." She had forgotten. She reached out and grabbed the dangling hunk of meat with her tongs, and he cut it free so she could place it on her plate.
"More?", he asked.
"No, that's good for now, thank you."
"And you, sir?", the server asked, turning his attention to Randolph.
"Yes, please. That looks delicious."
The server repeated the process, giving Randolph a thick cut of the glistening red meat.
"More?"
"No, that's great, thanks."
"You're welcome, sir." He replied before wandering off.
Their waitress returned at that moment with a bottle of wine and two glasses, opened the bottle, placed it in the centre of the table to rest and asked if they needed anything else. They didn't, so she smiled and left them to their meal.
They took a few minutes to enjoy their steak before Randolph poured each of them a glass of wine.
"Cheers!", he said, raising his glass and looking his wife in the eyes with a smile.
She clinked her glass against his, meeting his gaze with a smouldering look.
"Cheers!"
The wine was delicious, tart and rich with tannin, and paired beautifully with the steak. They only had time for a single bite before another server showed up at their table bearing a skewer of roast beef. They each accepted a piece of beef, and had no sooner taken a bite when another server appeared with a skewer of grilled vegetables, which they also accepted.
When a man appeared bearing a skewer full of roast chickens, their plates were overflowing, and they flipped their buttons back to red and sent him away. It all looked delicious, but they couldn't keep up.
And so it went for the next couple of hours. They tried many different kinds of grilled meat, gorging like proper carnivores, and finished three bottles of red wine. They made idle conversation about the food, the decor, which was loud and colourful, the other patrons, who were loud and cheerful, and the staff, who all had that smouldering sex appeal unique to Brazilians.
Eventually, they were simply too full to even consider eating any more meat, and their waitress cleared their plates away while they finished the last of the wine. Randolph reached out and clasped his wife's hand.
"This was an excellent choice of restaurant, sweetheart. You really know how to pick em."
She grinned back at him, drunk and a little horny. She squeezed his hand.
"I do, don't I? Are you ready to take me dancing?"
Her eyes sparked as she met his gaze.
"You're damned right I am, you sexy little thing.", he replied. "Lets get out of here."
"Just a minute. I want to visit the kitchen before we go."
Randolph knew what his wife was like, and this didn't surprise him in the slightest. He would have been disappointed if she hadn't. It was one of the things that charmed him when they first started dating.
"Ok. We'll go together."
They made their way towards the kitchen, and stepped through the staff doors. It was a busy place, with half a dozen people working, cooking a variety of different meats. One of them looked their way, surprised, and stepped forward.
"Can I help you too?"
"No, we're great.", Sara replied. "Every thing was wonderful. I know you're very busy, and we don't want to inconvenience you, but we wanted to tell you personally how delicious everything was, and pay our respects to you for your hard work. This evening was very special. Thank you.
All the staff heard her, and they took a moment to look up from their tasks and smile in her direction. The head cook looked touched by her gesture.
"Well, thank you very much for saying so! We love what we do, and it's great to know that it's appreciated. I hope you two have a wonderful evening!" He smiled at them as they withdrew without needing to be asked and let him get back to work.
"I love you, Sara.", Randolph said as he led his drunk little wife out of the restaurant.
"I love you too.", she replied. "Now, take me dancing."
It was a warm evening, and the sidewalk was busy with people as they waited for their car. It was only a matter of minutes before it arrived, and Randolph opened the back door for his wife before climbing in after her. He used his phone to identify himself to the car, and it quickly sped off to the dance club.
Sara leaned against her husband, snuggling close against him and nuzzling her cheek against his chest. "You know, it still amazes me, sometimes, that you turned me on to dancing.", she said. "I never saw myself as the type, until I met you."
Randolph chuckled to himself. She often said this to him, particularly once she'd had a few drinks. He felt the same way, once. But once he'd gotten a little older, and started imagining himself as a married man, rather than a swinging bachelor, he started to think about his grandparents, and how many of the older couples in his life turned into couch potatoes, or lived as though they were just companions who kept each other company, and he realized that he didn't want to be one of those people. He decided to cultivate old fashioned partner dancing as a skill, so that some day, when him and his future wife were old, and all his peers had turned into couch potatoes, he would still be able to take his wife out and romance her. Sara was a little punk geek when they met, and it had taken some convincing to get her to let him take her to a Salsa club for the first time, but he had prevailed in the end. His teachers had often said, "You are not there to look good. You are there to make her look good. You are there to sweep her off her feet, make her feel like a princess. You are the picture frame, she is the picture. Do you want to be the best looking dancer in the bar? No! You want to be the man dancing with the best looking dancer in the bar!"
And, once he had gotten her out of her comfort zone and led her around the dance floor for the first time, she was hooked. It was so foreign to her that she made no effort to take charge of the situation whatsoever, and simply surrendered to his lead, and felt totally overwhelmed and swept away.
It was a real feeling of power, knowing he could evoke these feelings in her, and he loved that feeling.
"I like you when you're turned on.", he said with a grin, tilting her chin up to face him and kissing her.
She melted into his kiss, and he lifted her into his lap, holding her in his arms as he danced his tongue against her lips.
She looked up into his eyes as he broke off their kiss, then closed her eyes as he kissed her again, allowing him to open her mouth and twirl his tongue around hers. Her whole body seemed to be inside her mouth, and everything else disappeared. She was vaguely conscious of squirming against him, as they kissed for an indeterminate amount of time. She only realized the car had stopped when he pulled his lips away from hers.
"We're here. Lets go."
The two of them descended a narrow set of stairs and emerged into a small, intimate space. There was a five piece band on a small, raised platform in the back corner playing energetic Latin music, and the dance floor was full, but not too crowded. There were booths along one wall and a bar along another, with people standing and watching the activity along a third. Randolph led his wife by the hand to the bar, and ordered a couple of martinis from the grinning bartender. The two of them took a few minutes to absorb the scene and enjoy the ambience while they sipped their drinks. The music was infectious, and they were moving to the beat and looking forward to setting their empty drinks down and hitting the dance floor very quickly.
A few minutes later, the band finished their song and started another one, and the two of them abandoned their empty glasses and moved onto the dance floor.
