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Goodbye Blue Sky

Silent_II Feb 11th, 2017 (edited) 1,564 Never
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  1. PDF: https://mega.nz/#!gsxVAZKL!dIQJfIgvR3KSfrgYB7eL-JzW1x1D7B2VG2DQyn5e1mw
  2. Questions & feedback: silentthesecond@gmail.com
  3.  
  4.  
  5.  
  6. How long had it been since the last bomb fell?
  7.  
  8. How long had it been since the last MIRV cluster fell through the clouds like slow, smoky sunbeams after the rain?
  9.  
  10. How long had it been since the last jet, desperate to find an airfield that wasn't a miasma of cobalt-60, finally fell from the sky with its fuel exhausted — its pilot deciding that a quick death from gravity was better than a slow death from radiation?
  11.  
  12. How long had it been since the sirens fell silent?
  13.  
  14. How long had it been since the radios fell silent?
  15.  
  16. How long had it been since the earth fell silent?
  17.  
  18. Ashes.
  19.  
  20. Ashes.
  21.  
  22. It all fell down.
  23.  
  24.  
  25. ♦ ♦ ♦
  26.  
  27.  
  28. William Fairbairn was glad to have slippers on his feet; the polished oak floorboards looked very cold and his fuzzy white foot-mitts went well with his bathrobe and fair blonde hair. An antique cuckoo clock tick-tocked behind him as he stood in front of the living room window, its white silk drapes drawn aside and letting in the lights and sights beyond the glass: a suburban neighborhood sparkly with morning dew and soft with seven o'clock sunshine.
  29.  
  30. It was still too early for the kids to be playing outside, but here and there were older folks carrying out their wake-up routines. Geoffrey jogged up Maple Street with Chauncey the lab leading the way on her leash. Heather stood out on her screened porch, her supple body twisting and bending as she did her sun salutations. Even Brian was making the most of the cheery weather and getting in some flying practice; his quadcopter drone hovered to and fro above his backyard.
  31.  
  32. Will sighed as he watched the little lives play out behind the glass. It was a shame that he would never know their real names.
  33.  
  34. Blue eyes half-lidded with melancholy, he reached out and rested his fingers on the window pane. Like the polished oak floorboards, it was very cold. If he ever found a way to open those unopenable windows, he could reach out and rest his fingers on the plasma screens behind them, his touch discoloring the artificial view of a world gone away. If he ever found a way to remove those unremovable plasma screens, he could reach even further and feel the cold grainy surface of a ten-foot thick lead-reinforced concrete wall. Reach even further, and he could rest his palm against the poisoned bedrock that encased his home like an opposite day twist on the Chernobyl sarcophagus.          
  35.  
  36. Some things were unopenable and unremovable for good reason.
  37.  
  38. A sound drew Will's attention behind him. To someone unattuned to sanctuary living, it could have been passed off as a washing machine entering its last noisy spin cycle. But Will was attuned; he knew it was the mechanical drone of the surface elevator.
  39.  
  40. Angie had returned.
  41.  
  42. Drawing his bathrobe tighter around him, he shuffled across the living room, swaying past the sofa and following the noise out into the main hall. Mahogany-framed pictures covered the floral print wallpaper of the hallway to the point where it was almost more photograph than wall. It was amazing how many Kodak moments you could get out of a family of three (four if you counted Angie).
  43.  
  44.  
  45. Way-back-when, daddy Fairbairn had been a high perch official in the cloak-and-dagger branch of the nation's military. The position earned his family a 'sanctuary' and earned himself a final resting place as a nuclear shadow on the blacktop of Kirtland Air Force Base.
  46.  
  47. Mommy Fairbairn hadn't fared much better. Though she had been abroad when DEFCON 1 had been declared (far too late), it only bought her an extra week of life on earth, in exchange for never being able to tell her husband 'I love you' one last time.
  48.  
  49. In the end, the only ones left to take advantage of Mr. Fairbairn's sanctuary privileges were nanny Angie and baby Will — back when he was still too young to tell the difference between a nipple and a pacifier. With the world falling down in time with the missiles falling from the sky, Angie had descended into a new home of oak, steel, concrete, and lead — cradling baby Will in her arms all along the way.
  50.  
  51.  
  52. Right-there-then, eighteen year-old Will shuffled down the photograph hallway, his drooping eyes sliding over the pictures in the same way they would slide over smudges on a greasy stovetop. Instead he focused on the front door at the end of the hall. Like the floorboards and the glass and the plasma screens and the floral print wallpaper, it was designed with masking in mind; the ornate, hinged board of carved and polished ash was nothing more than a screen door compared to the steel blast door hiding behind it.
  53.  
  54. Will came to a stop in front of the ash door, doing his best impression of a puppy waiting for master's return. Behind the door, the groan of the descending elevator came to a shuddering stop. After a few moments and a few clunks, a new noise fired up, this time sounding like the grinding and gurgling of a garbage disposal unit. Which, with it being radiation detox, wasn't too far from the truth.
  55.  
  56. After one last muffled belch of drainage, a chime sounded off, followed by another thunk and thud as the detox lock opened and closed. Will kept his eyes on the ash door as the blast door behind it opened with a knocking rattle of steel clockwork and a hiss of ventilation. A final metallic thud, and silence descended like countryside fallout.
  57.  
  58. Footsteps broke the silence with a 'tak tak tak' as their owner walked up behind the ash door. Following a rattle and a clack, the lock came undone and the front door swung inwards.
  59.  
  60. Angie walked inside, her synthetic white skin shining in the lamplight. She had a bob cut of hair — strands white like bare fiber optics — with bangs that brushed the brows of her stoic, crystal-blue compound eyes. Being a service android built with nurturing in mind, her jointed body stood tall and full with a large, swaying, synthflesh bust that sloshed with creamy, nutrient-rich fluid. To call it milk would be misleading, but that didn't stop her or Will from doing so.
  61.  
  62. "Good morning, Will," Angie said as she shut the door, her voice smooth and synthetic as her skin. She stopped before him and gave a bow that sent her breasts rocking. "I apologize for leaving without waking you, but it appeared to me that you needed some time to sleep in. I hope you weren't too frightened when you realized I was gone?"
  63.  
  64. Will slowly shook his head and took a tentative step towards the android, then took a much less tentative step when she opened her arms to receive him. He shivered as she hugged him with a gentle whirr of electric motors, pulling him to her bosom as she ran her smooth fingertips down his back and up his neck. Hugging tight to her slender waist, he closed his eyes and rested his cheek against her soft, warm breast — his ear picking up the near-silent hum of the electronics working beneath her skin.
  65.  
  66. "Of course," Angie said, "you know I would never abandon you."
  67.  
  68. Will nodded his head against her. "Nmm."
  69.  
  70. With a tiny buzz of artificial facial muscles, Angie sprouted a gentle smile and rested her chin on Will's head. She closed her eyes and gave him a tender squeeze of affection, gently rocking him from side to side as she held him close and stroked his back. "Never."
  71.  
  72. Sniffling, Will nodded again. After a moment of appreciating the android's warmth and security, he glanced up and said "...Sun?"
  73.  
  74. "I'm sorry Will, but as with the last eighteen thousand, seven hundred and twenty-two excursions, I've yet to see it completely uncovered."
  75.  
  76. "...People?"
  77.  
  78. "No signs; all frequencies silent. As always."
  79.  
  80. Shoulders slumping, Will went limp in Angie's embrace. After another sniffle and a sigh, he said "...Milk?"
  81.  
  82. Angie wiggled her chest against Will, letting him hear his breakfast sloshing about inside as her overflowing breasts squished against him. "Of course. I found plenty of edibles for treatment. As always." She raised her head, face once again stoic as she ran a hand through his blonde hair. "Are you hungry now?"
  83.  
  84. Perking up a little, Will nodded his head.
  85.  
  86. "Very well. Would you prefer the living room or the bedroom?"
  87.  
  88. "Bed."
  89.  
  90. "Understood." Angie took a step back, carefully unwrapping Will from herself before taking his hand. Like a blind newborn kitten, he followed her down the hall and into the bedroom.
  91.  
  92. Angie had done her best to raise Will without the help of a flesh-and-blood mother and father, but the disheartening fact was that — despite her being built for nurturing — you couldn't expect a lone construct to provide a human with every single social stepping stone from infancy to adulthood. Since the day they descended into the sanctuary, the android had to be Will's mother, father, friend, teacher, and — when he came of age less than a year ago — his lover.
  93.  
  94. And, because of their feeding ritual, the line between mother and lover became blurred to a degree that wouldn't have been possible if there had been anyone left to judge them.
  95.  
  96. "Is the current locale to your liking?" Angie said, glancing towards the bedroom windows as she guided Will inside.
  97.  
  98. Will looked out at the Maple Street panorama the plasma screens displayed. "Ye... no..." he said, turning his nod into a shake.
  99.  
  100. "What would you prefer?" Angie said as she sat him on the edge of the curtained queen bed, linen sheets rustling as he settled on the mattress.
  101.  
  102. "...Pretty mountains."
  103.  
  104. "Very well." Angie waved her hand at the windows. In one smooth, fading wipe, the image of Maple Street was replaced by the snow-glazed gray horizon of the southern Rockies. With just one pixilated transition, Will and Angie were no longer in a quaint house in the suburbs, but a cozy retreat in the high-altitude wilderlands of the Sangre De Cristo Mountains.
  105.  
  106. Much better in terms of privacy.
  107.  
  108. While Will took a moment to take in the view, Angie slid over to the bedside table and pulled a black lace sleeping mask from its drawer. Back when he was just a babe, Will had had a bit of a problem being breastfed by a mother that had eyes textured like a dragon fly's. Angie found that hiding them behind a mask was much easier than having to keep them closed or disabled for long periods of time. Baby Will certainly appreciated the effort, and by the time it was no longer necessary to hide them, it had become tradition to the point where it felt stranger to leave the mask off than on.
  109.  
  110. "Are you comfortable?" Angie said, sitting beside Will and carefully sliding the mask into place. Her wide, round bottom dimpled the mattress as she sat down, making him slide up against her hips. Despite her construction, they were as warm and pliant as any woman's; he couldn't help but rest a hand on her plump thighs and feel her nanotube muscles clenching as she shuffled in place.
  111.  
  112. "I'll take this as confirmation?" Angie said, resting her hand atop Will's. Not stopping him — merely feeling him as he felt her.
  113.  
  114. "Y-Yes," Will said with a shaky nod. "Comfortable..."
  115.  
  116. "Good." Angie let go of his hand and turned her torso towards him with a tiny buzz, flaunting her milk-filled tits. Rocking with her movement, the great white globes of synthflesh gently sloshed as they settled in place — coming to a rest in a gentle sag that was just enough to show off their size and weight without becoming grotesque. Though full, they were featureless; the polymorphic synthflesh kept her nipples hidden for modesty, and getting them to come out was just a matter of a 1 or a 0 in Angie's motherboard brain.
  117.  
  118. But — after the feeding sessions turned a mite more intimate — Angie and Will found that they could have some fun with turning the 0 into a 1.
  119.  
  120. "Here..." Angie said, leaning back and resting her hands on the sheets behind her. Her huge tits gently jiggled and rolled to the sides as she stuck out her chest. With her eyes hidden behind her lacy black sleeping mask, the only hint of her feelings was her mouth — soft white lips drawn in the slightest smile of confidence and encouragement. She tilted her head back once, beckoning her 'son' and 'lover' closer.
  121.  
  122. Gulping down the drool that had built up in his mouth, Will brought up his hands, the sleeves of his bathrobe sliding down his forearms as he pushed his palms onto her breasts. Angie's expression remained unchanged as he gently clenched and wiggled his fingers, dimpling and jiggling the synthflesh until it bulged between his digits. The soft masses were even warmer than her thighs, and twice as pliant without any muscle holding them in place. With every squeeze, he could hear the sound of what must have been over a gallon of milk sloshing within her tits; the sound egged on both his physical and sexual hunger — drool gathering in his mouth, blood gathering in his cock.
  123.  
  124. "Good," Angie said, lowering her voice volume to a sensuous whisper. "I can feel them coming up already... just move around a little more."
  125.  
  126. "Mm... mm-hm." Will started circling and pushing his hands, gently kneading Angie's huge tits and feeling the subtle rush of liquid beneath her synthflesh as he moved his palms. Her breasts were so large that it was impossible for him to take all of her in one grasp, forcing him to compensate and slide his hands from place to place, giving each handful a tender squeeze. But no matter how hard he squeezed or kneaded, Angie's face remained calm behind her sleeping mask — luscious white lips keeping that small smile.
  127.  
  128. Stoic though she was, her robotic body reacted just fine to Will's attentions. As he pinched the fronts of her tits — rolling and teasing the tips between his fingers — a pair of nipples began growing, starting out inverted before rising in time with his massaging hands.
  129.  
  130. "Ah..." Will whispered, "here they come..." He increased his pace, watching as the little bumpy slits parted just enough to show the teats rising up inside. Within seconds, her nipples sprouted little beads of milk as they perked up between Will's kneading fingers. He had to gulp again as Angie's teats became fully erect, dribbles of milk trickling down and glistening on her smooth, artificial areolas.
  131.  
  132. By then her nipples weren't the only thing erect — Will's cock had popped out from between the front of his bathrobe, the thick, meaty stick twitching with anticipation. But at that particular moment, Will's hunger outweighed his lust. Pausing his groping, he glanced up at the android's masked face and said "C-Can I drink now?"
  133.  
  134. "Of course," Angie said. After Will unhanded her breasts, she took her hands from the bed sheets and sat up straight, her tits jiggling with her movement and shaking off a few droplets of milk onto her legs. With that small smile, she patted her thigh and tilted her head forward, directing Will to her lap.
  135.  
  136. Nodding, he lay on his back, his bathrobe coming undone as he rested his body on the bedside and his head in Angie's lap. Her gigantic white tits took up his view, wiggling lines of milk sliding over their curves and stopping just short of the smooth undersides, forming hanging drops that grew and grew until they were too heavy to stay put — falling from her underboob and dripping onto his face. A droplet landed on his lips. He licked them, taking the warmth into his mouth and letting the creaminess settle on his tongue. It was smooth and sweet as French vanilla.
  137.  
  138. "Are you ready?" Angie said, resting and rubbing her jointed hand against his scalp with little 'scritch-scritch' sounds. With her other hand she took a breast, her gentle squeezing grip causing an extra spurt of milk to leak out and slide down onto Will's face.
  139.  
  140. After licking the generous drop off his lips, he nodded. "Yeah. Really ready."
  141.  
  142. "Understood." Angie leaned forward, guiding her leaking nipple to Will's mouth as she caressed the back of his head. He watched as her huge breast took up his view, the white underside wet and shiny with a milky sheen. The sweet scent of cream filled the air around his head and he flinched, gasping through his nose as the android's soft, warm synthflesh squished against his face and plugged up his mouth. Closing his eyes and sliding his lips wide, he took the nipple into his mouth — areola and all — and sucked.
  143.  
  144. A long, muffled moan of satisfaction sent vibrations through Angie's breast as Will took in his first creamy drink of milk. It came out in a stream, the smooth and sweet torrent washing over his tongue and overloading it with that French vanilla flavor. He lapped underneath her nipple, bouncing the little bud on his tongue as it squirted in time with his sucks. Droplets of milk and drool spilled out over his lips as he fed, his cheeks indenting as he put more ravenous suction on her teat.
  145.  
  146. Despite Will's greedy, forceful intake, Angie kept still and calm — one hand cradling his head while the other moved from her breast to his leg, slipping underneath his open bathrobe and rubbing up and down his thigh. She tilted her head down, 'watching' with her masked eyes and small smile as he sucked away. His head gently bobbed in time with the 'swish-swish-swish' sound of milk squirting out her breast, pooling in his mouth, and sliding down his gulping throat.
  147.  
  148. "Is the taste to your liking?" Angie whispered, giving Will's hair a tender ruffle. "I didn't mix in too many sugars?"
  149.  
  150. "Nn-nm," Will mumbled, unwilling to unlatch his lips. One of his hands found its way to Angie's lactating breast, and he massaged the synthflesh as he sucked, increasing the volume and thickness of her sweet, creamy output. Another moan vibrated through her tit as his body shuddered in savory pleasure, his feet going slipper-less as he kneaded them into the bed sheets.
  151.  
  152. "I'm glad you like it," Angie whispered, leaning forward and forcing more of her softness against Will's mouth. He glanced up with half-lidded eyes, his blue irises sleepy-soft as he suckled away with puckered lips. As he rubbed his hand into her milking breast, his other slid down his torso towards his twitching erection.
  153.  
  154. But before he could rest a finger on it, Angie laid her free hand atop his. "Allow me," she said.
  155.  
  156. After a moment's pause, Will closed his eyes and nodded his head, a mumbled "ohkey" slipping past his slurps and sucks.
  157.  
  158. Smiling, Angie released his hand and brought hers up to her free breast, mashing her palm against her nipple and slathering it in milk. Once her hand was nice, warm, and wet, she wrapped it around the base of Will's cock, drawing a jerk from his hips and a breast-muffled squeak from his mouth as she tenderly squeezed her jointed fingers. With one long, slick, squelch, she ran her hand along his dick, lubing it up with her warm, creamy milk.
  159.  
  160. "I'm not being too rough?" Angie said, curling closer to Will and smothering him with more of her supple synthflesh.
  161.  
  162. Will offered a moan of pleasure as he gently shook his head, the motion causing Angie's breast to wiggle between his sucking lips.
  163.  
  164. "Good. Very good." She gave her hand a little twist over the glans before sliding back down to the base, brushing against Will's sack as she got a firm grip. Then, as he sucked away at her giant breasts and gulped down her sweet milk, Angie began gently pumping her hand up and down his cock, the slick and wet sounds of her handjob mixing in with his slurps and moans.
  165.  
  166. "Ah... A-Angie," Will said, his lips slipping free of her nipple.  "I — mmf!"
  167.  
  168. Angie gently forced his head back to her breast with the hand behind his head as the other glided along his shaft and massaged his tip. "Ssshh..." she whispered, puffing out her tits as she mashed his face against them. "Just drink — drink and relax."
  169.  
  170. "Mmmh." Will nodded, his hips twitching along with Angie's pumping hand. Soon his own precum mixed in with her milk, slickening it further and letting her hand glide over his dick even faster. He panted through his nose, unwilling to release his suckling liplock even for a breath — sometimes even holding off from breathing all together as he took in a massive gulp of Angie's seemingly endless supply of milk.
  171.  
  172. "Caaareful," Angie whispered with a smile, stroking the back of his head as she kept him steady against her teat. "I would never forgive myself if you choked."
  173.  
  174. "Sh-shorry... mf!" Will mumbled, his whole body alternating between shivering and tensing up as Angie picked up the pace of her pumping hand.
  175.  
  176. "It's okaaay," she whispered, her motors growing louder as her motions grew faster. "Just take it easy while I take care of everything, Will... my sweet little Will..." She bent forward and kissed his forehead, drawing a brief whine from him as her nipple came loose from his lips with a tiny splash of milk. She quickly sat back and replaced it, making up by quickening her handjob with a sudden burst of squelching and whirring. From his pube-covered base to his cum-and-milk-glazed tip, her squeezing and caressing fingers slid back and forth, both his moans and spurts of precum growing in volume.
  177.  
  178. "Mmm...Anshie..." Will curled up his hands to his chest, scrunching up his entire body against Angie as he twitched and shivered.
  179.  
  180. "Don't tense up," she said, squeezing her hand tight and shaking it as fast as she could manage. "Relax. Let it flow."
  181.  
  182. Will let loose another long, muffled moan. The sliding heat and pressure around his cock was too much. He squeezed his lips around Angie's tit and sucked as hard as he could while has lower body went completely rigid. He dug his heels into the bed. His thighs clenched tight underneath his churning testicles. He shut his eyes and caught a breath in this throat.
  183.  
  184. Then he let it flow.
  185.  
  186. All at once, the pressure went out of his lower body as he gave a muffled, shuddering, mewling sigh of release. Clenched in Angie's gentle grasp, his cock jumped and twitched, jerking as his first thick rope of cum sloshed out and coated her sliding fingers. She kept on pumping, urging on his second rope. It was much stronger than the first, shooting into the air in a graceful arch that rained back down onto the android's jiggling breast. His thick white semen pooled on her soft white synthflesh, sliding down it's luscious curve and dripping off the edge onto his belly beneath. The third rope — stronger than the first but weaker than the second — shot straight back onto his stomach as it rose and fell with his pleasured breaths. Rope after rope of cum spurted from his throbbing cock, until nothing came but bubbly white dribbles trickling over Angie's slowing hands.
  187.  
  188. The flow ebbed.
  189.  
  190. "Owhooh..." Will sighed a breath full of milky sweetness as he drew his lips free of his android mother's teat, her hand keeping his head steady as she laid it back on her lap.
  191.  
  192. "Gooood..." Angie whispered, swishing her caressing hand around his head. "That was very good. Do you feel better?"
  193.  
  194. Smiling and nodding in a daze, Will let his head slide to the side.
  195.  
  196. His smile slid away.
  197.  
  198. His eyes had focused on the window. The window to 'outside.' He saw the waving, snowy peaks of the Sangre de Cristo mountains brushing against the cloudless sky like giant piles of gray-white ash — the forested foothills looking like belts of moss and twig beneath. Circling in the great blue above was a white-brown speck — a red-tailed hawk patrolling the hunting grounds with its four-kilometer vision. Will's eyes traced the raptor's flight path, mesmerized by its fixed-wing motion as it glided 'round and 'round.
  199.  
  200. But that was it — Will was mesmerized, not hypnotized. Despite the resolution of the image going into the quintuple digits, he could 'see' the pixels. He could see past the illusion. He could see the truth.
  201.  
  202. He knew that 'Geoffrey' and 'Heather' and 'Brian' were all just names he had pulled from a book and pasted onto the actors dancing behind the living room's unremovable windows. He knew that the real Maple Street was nothing more than a ruin of splinters, rubble, and melted glass hidden beneath irradiated weeds and poisoned creeper. He knew the real Sangre De Cristo mountains had lost their 'belts of moss and twig' long ago, now nothing more than ashen crags reaching up into a sky of soot-clouds and lightning.
  203.  
  204. He knew the world was gone.
  205.  
  206. He knew it had all fell down.
  207.  
  208. Will closed his eyes, his body slumping and his lips trembling as tears brewed beneath his lids. There really was nothing left. There really was nothing left. There...
  209.  
  210. "Will?"
  211.  
  212. He opened his eyes and turned back. Angie had slipped off the mask, her crystal-blue compound peeking out from underneath the black lace. The fronts of her giant tits were still slick with milk, even as her nipples began to recede. She looked concerned, her plump white lips in a small frown as she looked him over. "Is something wrong?" she asked, running her hand from his scalp to his neck and brushing his cheek from behind.
  213.  
  214. Will gave a smile. Though small, it was the largest he could manage. "No, everything's fine," he said, wiggling closer and giving Angie a squishy hug.
  215.  
  216. "Everything's just fine..."
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