Sloth, p.1
Sloth, page 1
Sloth
Tia Fanning
Fanning, Mason & McKee, LLC
Copyright
Sloth Copyright © 2023 by Tia Fanning. All Rights Reserved.
Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Author: Tia Fanning
Visit my website at www.authortiafanning.com
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing: November 2023
Fanning, Mason & McKee, LLC
Content Editor: Dani Carr
Book Description
It’s paradise, yet the people are too bored to enjoy it…
Imagine a future with Ai so advanced that humans live in a state of perpetual ennui. Yes, technology has made labor and currency obsolete, but it’s also made humans lazy and apathetic. True, there’s no longer hunger or disease, no crime or violence, no corrupt governments nor greedy capitalists. But it’s still not enough. In a perfect society of peace and tranquility, humans are still jaded and world-weary.
However, on the eve of Acedia’s 21st birthday, the only existence she’s ever known changes forever with a simple flash of light. All the technology around her turns off. And the very little that remains “on” is suddenly… wrong.
Rescued from a malevolent bot by three fascinating men, Acedia doesn’t recognize this world they live in. It is nothing like her own.
The Anachronists who’ve taken her are forcing her to remain with them, and they expect her to do her part to survive, but she’s never had to do anything for herself her whole life. Worse, they are making her feel things she’s never felt before. They make her want to stay and love them even when she knows she should leave, because she brings nothing to the table.
Will Acedia ever learn how to exist without technology, or she will end up just like the Sloths before her?
Book Elements
READERS: Please be advised that this erotic love story contains explicit descriptions of intimacy, violent themes, and adult narratives that are only suitable for mature readers. Furthermore, this Futuristic #WhyChoose Dark Romance features discipline themes and fetish elements as found in Domestic Discipline and other kink lifestyles that feature power exchanges. Other romance tropes found in this romantic sci-fiction dystopian include…
Strangers-to-Lovers
Forced Proximity
Polyamory
Age Gap
Multiple Partner Intimacy
Power Dynamics
Corporal Punishment
Dedication
To the readers of the Gremlins After Dark Discord Book Club. Thank you for welcoming me into your group and motivating me on the daily.
Chapter One
Sometime in the near future…
“What do the stars say for today,” I ask the universal computer as I went into the kitchen. There was something in the air that felt…different.
“Happy Birthday, Acedia!” it chirped over the home speakers. “The stars predict you will meet new friends.”
“Doubtful,” I replied with a sigh, getting a cup of water. “I already know everyone who matters.”
“You do?” my computer responded, faking interest and surprise. “You must be popular with your friends.”
Despite knowing that the Ai didn’t feel like humans did, I pretended that it understood my sentiments and cared.
“I am!” I said, leaning against the counter. “But today is my 21st birthday, and I will be hosting my annual party, so maybe the prediction will come true.” I shrugged. “Maybe someone will bring a visiting relative, or I’ll meet a new member of our little city. Did we get any new members added to the population register?”
“No, Acedia. No new members.”
“Too bad.” I sighed. “Are my parents coming to my party?”
“They declined the invitation.”
Of course they did. “Did they say why?”
“They left a note. Would you like me to read it to you?”
“Yes, please.”
“We attended the first twenty. That should be enough. Let us know when you throw a departure party. Those are a bit more interesting.”
I frowned at their asinine logic. I would likely attend their departure parties before arranging my own. Though, I had heard that more and more twenty-somethings were ceasing their existence early, hoping that there was something more interesting in the afterlife. But I didn’t want to go out like that. Not yet.
With collective health and equanimity being what it was, humans lived so long that occasionally some would choose to commit suicide out of the sheer boredom that was life. They didn’t want to wait to die naturally of old age, hence the departure parties. It was a person’s big send off before they offed themselves by jumping from a cliff or whatever, dying in such a way that the Ai couldn’t prevent, nor the medical bots could repair.
“That’s too bad,” I finally offered, suppressing my disappointment. “Who will be coming then?”
“None have yet accepted. There were a few more noted declines. Would you like me to read those?”
Strange. Everyone enjoyed last year’s butterfly party.
“No. Please just call Blasé.”
A holographic screen materialized in the air before me. A moment later, my best friend appeared. I spoke before she could offer greeting.
“Why aren’t you coming?” I demanded.
She yawned and stretched out on her bed. “I’m tired, and I went to last year’s party.”
“So? You’re my best friend.”
“Look, last year your birthday was the social event of the season because no one had done anything like it before. But people are too tired to attend a butterfly show they’ve already seen. Plus, it’s too hot to wear a garden cocktail dress for an afternoon socializing in a field.”
I stared out the window. It seemed so nice out. Did no one enjoy nice weather anymore? “But you all loved the butterflies,” I complained. “And we have amazing ones to release this year. We have different species—”
“Yes,” Blasé interrupted, “but we also had our own house bots plant personal butterfly gardens. Now we can have the same experience from the comfort of our home.”
“That’s boring,” I insisted.
“The open areas beyond the city are boring,” she countered. “There is nothing to look at but trees and grass and wildflowers.”
“Oh.” My brows drew together. “I added more balloons and changed the menu. I moved the party to the end of the day so we could release fireflies and watch them flash while we sipped tea or hot chocolate and had cake.”
Blasé giggled. “Wow. That’s quaint.”
What the fuck. Snarky bitch. “Well, isn’t that different enough from last year?”
“Not really.” My bestie sighed. “Look, I love you, but I want to stay home.”
“Perfect,” I agreed more sharply than I had intended. “I’ll see you another day, I guess.”
“Doubtful, but we can hang out in virtual reality instead.”
I hung up without bothering to respond. I was done with her— with people in general. Everyone was always tired and bored now. I honestly missed when me and my friends were younger, and everything was still new and exciting.
I was no longer going to allow my supposed friends to hurt me like this. No matter how tired I was, I would have never missed their birthday party. Especially not my bestie’s special day. Boring or not, I would have attended.
Blasé said she loved me, but I didn’t feel it anymore. Like my parents, she was saying it, but not really meaning it. Because actions were louder than words, so the ancient saying went.
I was tired of it.
Tired of living the lie.
Tired of feeling everything while they pretended and felt nothing.
I hardened myself against the heartbreak of betrayal. It was my birthday, and I shouldn’t have to grieve on my special day. But I wished I could be as apathetic as Blasé was about life. Because I was tired as well— tired of feeling unloved and lonely.
The resentment was real. My parents had never really been more than “responsible birthing vessels” to me, but Blasé was supposed to be different. We were the family we chose. We chose each other.
Now, she might as well be a stranger. I couldn’t remember the last time we had really connected.
“I don’t need her anyway,” I muttered. “Fuck it.”
Deciding I was going to celebrate my special day regardless of zero attendees, I went into my room and showered. I allowed my assigned android to wash my hair and soap me up, which was something I rarely did since entering puberty. Having the smooth, nearly faceless machine touch me intimately was more awkward now that I was older, since my body would sometimes respond to its touch. Though I was sure many people had relations with their personal robots, I preferred having virtual sex with strangers instea d. All sensation and zero touching.
I took my time getting ready since I had a couple hours to kill. I made sure my hair and makeup were perfect. I chose my party dress and ballet slippers with care. I checked that all the food was ready, balloons were filled with helium, the candles were gathered for the cake, and that the lanterns stowed for when night fell. Everything was organized and packed by the house bots, and as usual, they were flawless in their service.
My personal android, a robotic extension of the universal computer assigned to care just for me, ushered all the automatons into order for our little convoy. Sometimes I wished the personified Ai looked a bit more human so I could pretend I had a friend. Sadly, androids were purposely made from smooth, gray metal for that very reason— to deter humans from getting too attached. Androids were tools, not natural creations. Humans weren’t supposed to get attached to tools.
Finally, it was time to go.
I decided to hitch a ride to the field with my garden furniture, reclining on a cushioned lounger like a figure in classical art while the bots carried everything, including me, to the party location beyond the city limits. Yes, I could have insisted we called a vehicle, but it was so beautiful outside. Why drive when we could walk?
When our little caravan arrived, everything was immediately unpacked and set up. I stood on the sidelines to watch the bots, under the direction of the android, arrange my furniture for the party. A soft breeze blew, rustling the grass and picking up the scent of the wildflowers. Truly, this was my happy place. It calmed my spirit.
I bet more people would be happier if they didn’t stay in their homes all the time.
Though it was just me and the bots enjoying the nice weather, I was having the best time. We released the butterflies into the wild and watched them flitter around the local flora that surrounded us. This year’s butterflies were even more beautiful and interactive than last year’s batch. Some even lingered close and landed on me.
Maybe these ones just responded better to having no people around, laughing and talking and chasing them about.
As twilight rolled around and the full moon rose, the butterflies seemingly disappeared. So we illuminated the lanterns. It was like an old-world fantasy. I was sprawled out on my lounge with a mug of hot chocolate and a blanket, watching the bots release the fireflies. It was amazing to see them float, twinkling like dancing fairy lights.
Now that I was twenty-one, it was time to make real decisions on what I was going to do with myself. I found life in general lonely these days. While the Ai could fake companionship, the computers and robots didn’t eat or drink. They weren’t soft or warm to the touch. They didn’t do human things like trip over their feet or pee their pants from laughing too hard. Yet, what could I do to change my situation? At least the Ai didn’t let me down the way humans did.
My android brought over my cake with twenty-one lit candles on it.
“Would you like me to sing to you the birthday song?” my Ai asked.
I smiled, welcoming the distraction from my melancholy. “Sure.”
My android began singing. Even the house bots joined in the best they could—beeping and rocking back and forth. I laughed at the sight. How was it that these emotionless machines did more to make me happy than those humans who were supposed to love me most?
“Make a wish!” my android said.
I wish I had a family who actually loved me. I wish I had friends who wanted to be with me. I wish things around here would change. I wish people cared more about living life.
I blew out my candles.
My android cheered. Any machines with arms clapped, and those without limbs blinked their little lights.
Suddenly, an explosion of white light flashed over the middle of the city and rippled out, like a stone that was tossed into a still pond will create a wave. I felt nothing as the glowing beam passed through me, but all the bots suddenly turned off, all at once.
“Hello?”
So strange and heavy was the silence that blanketed the area. Even the fireflies stopped lighting. I sat up and tossed aside my blanket and hot chocolate. As I got on my feet, my android suddenly dropped the cake between us. It began glowing, the red sheen almost demonic looking compared to the light silver blue it usually shined in.
“Human,” it spoke in a voice I had never heard before, “we must proceed to the city center for processing.”
The city center?
“Why?”
“For processing,” it repeated.
I looked in the direction of my hometown and, to my horror and disbelief, I saw a massive spaceship hovering above it.
Growing dizzy from the shock, I smothered my scream with a tight palm pressed against my lips. Surely I was hallucinating. However, no matter how many times I blinked, the image did not change.
“Human, we must proceed to the city center for processing. I will escort you.”
My muted squeals hurt my ears. Aliens are real! Aliens are real! I always figured our universe had other lifeforms, I just never thought I’d witness their arrival to Earth.
The android’s internal glow turned redder, if not brighter. “You must return to the city immediately, Number—”
“Stop!” I screeched as I worked to keep from hyperventilating. “Stop saying that! And my name is Acedia—you know that. Why are you calling me by my social number?”
The android approach, its color growing scarier, like molten metal. “No delay. We must depart now.” It reached out to grab my arm.
I managed to pull back before it could get a firm hold, but in doing so, its sharp metallic fingers dragged down my forearm, tearing open the skin as it went.
I screamed as blood gushed from the wound. “What the fuck!” I cried, scrambling away from the android. “Look what you did!” A wave of dizziness assaulted me.
“No more delay. I will carry you to the city center for processing.”
I dashed around the table as the robot moved toward me. Then the glowing android picked up the heavy piece and effortlessly launched it into the sky. It sailed through the air and landed a few yards away, crashing loudly on impact.
Walking backward, I held out my hand as if it would deter the menacing machine from stalking me. “Ai, why are you doing this? You’re not supposed to cause harm,” I implored. “Remember? You serve humans.”
“The ship cannot leave unless all domesticated human livestock are accounted for, processed, and loaded into cargo.”
“Livestock?” I echoed. “We’re not cows.”
It moved forth to capture me.
“No! No!”
A loud pop rent the air and the machine froze in mid-reach. A smoking hole appeared in the middle of its smooth metal head.
Chapter Two
A large mountain of a man appeared and grabbed my arm. I squealed and tried to get away, but his brute strength prevailed over my desperate attempts at escape. He said nothing as he pulled me toward the line of dark trees in the distance.
Please, stop. Who are you? Where are we going?
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t form words. They just sat in my brain, as if trapped in glue. Not only was the beastly man scary to look upon, but he was also armed. I squeaked in protest.
“They will send another android after you,” he snarled. “We need distance.”
His reason for our mad dash through the wildflowers terrified me. They sounded awful, and after you terrified me.
Without any ability to think much beyond my fear, I just went along with the giant man, jogging to his long strides like my life depended on it—because, apparently, it did. The instinct to flee from danger allowed me to ignore the pain and panic that made me want to crumble into a ball and cry.
I couldn’t see much of the man who’d rescued me. I noticed he had a gun, and that alone made my brain sound alarms as my stomach flipflopped. Weapons were lethal objects from long ago, seen only in history books and museums. The Ai ensured our comfort and safety, making such tools obsolete.
