Curiosity Towards the Unknown

The end of summer is here, but I’ve been relatively motivated lately. I hope you enjoy the start of this new tale. I’m back to my roots in Tales of Symphonia fics. I plan to extend it throughout multiple chapters. Please review if you have an opinion, I guarantee I will take it to heart and will use it constructively, if you make it constructive yourself. Thank you very much.

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Adolescence has already proven to be…an extremely confusing, curious experience. In the two years since I’ve regained my soul, delayed body reactions and emotional highs and lows have corrupted my rational thought beyond any level deemed comfortable. I feel that, in many ways, I have become the petty, shallow teenagers I never could understand. I find myself…what is the proper term for it…’checking out’ eligible partners, understanding the nuances of what makes young men attractive.

In my village, I have come to comprehend that I might be lucky in the selection we have here, in the newly rebuilt Ozette. Fine specimens with admirable muscle tones in all appendages, as well as their abdominal cores, are more than enough to make me realize how vulnerable, inexperienced, and indeed how young I still really am. I have since become used to these flashes of heat throughout my body, but have always been able to control them. My superior intelligence has thankfully kept me from becoming another…what is the term…slut…sleeping with rich, powerful men in hopes of bettering my financial and social standing. Do those women honestly believe that they will better themselves this way? Approximately 97 percent of the time, these men do what they will to these women, and then abruptly eschew them to the door, with no further benefit to be gained from keeping them there. Even in the rare cases where a… relationship… begins, like the blush of youth, it quickly passes.

Forgive me for the pauses…I would imagine it breaks up the narrative momentum for anyone who might be reading this. Despite two years of learning and growing, there are topics still so foreign to me that I find it necessary to think before choosing the correct adjective or term. I still hate admitting that I have so little experience in so many areas. Especially considering the topics I am supposed to be concerned with: gossip, beauty, sex, who I really am…

Gossip…well, this is a small village, and even though people have slowly begun to accept me, and I appreciate them for it, I have yet to establish any true bonds that I feel warrant serious future consideration. Beauty…strangely, I have become quite interested in keeping myself…presentable. Perhaps it’s that my body has finally begun to develop, but young boys in the village talk, and sometimes I am involved in the conversation. Through analysis of their conversations, I’ve become confident that I can gain the attention of a large number of boys. I am several inches taller now, and looking at the mirror in my room, I concede a selfish smile when examining my figure before I dress. My breasts are erect and shapely, my legs longer and smooth, and apparently my hairstyle has been met with approval. I have maintained my pigtails, and try to change my clothes more often, usually making myself available for the village to see, because I am curious whether I can get any kind of reaction from the boys in town. I find myself laughing describing this; it’s very unlike me…but if physical attractiveness is one of the facets of youth I was unable to tap into, I will not let it past me a second time. I feel that I have succeeded, that I’ve been able to gather some positive reactions; maybe I did before as well, but all my conversations not focused on my job were simply whited or blocked out prior to my rescue.

Rescue…I despise that word. Had it not been for Lloyd and the others, I would have perished far before my time, perhaps I would have already been dead. My naïve trust eighteen years ago forced me into that predicament, and it has since been difficult to trust anyone since. But I still feel close to these members of the group. They made me realize that to live a life of pure independence is extremely difficult; and in my case, impossible. They are the closest people to me, and I can almost feel ‘trust’ between them. Perhaps if I had more time…

Damn it! Everything is always cut short for me…I’m tired of being so strong all the time. I joined the group near the end of their journey, and as a consequence I could not get as…close…to some members as I wanted to. By the time I realized Genis’ romantic feelings for me, he was gone, halfway across the world. Lloyd too, whom I felt especially attracted to. Perhaps if they were still here, I could have developed those relationships further, became intimate with them, kissed them, held them…

Sex. It simply popped into my mind. Yes, it has crossed my thoughts before. Despite one’s predicaments, when your biological age is fourteen, you’re simply lying to yourself when you say that sex is not prominent in your thoughts at certain points. I have recently wondered what the sensation feels like…to have my sex filled by a large cock, to feel a tongue run across my chest and nipples, to submit myself to another’s biological urges, while fulfilling my own. These are the images that fill my mind during certain nights. With my house far below the rest of the village, I make minimal efforts to suppress my moaning and squeaks of pleasure as I do the best I can to bring those images to life by my own accord. I admit, this can be quite thrilling, grinding my lithe body along my bed sheets, seeing my breasts bounce and fall with every motion. I do not hold back. My fingers thrust deep inside of me until I feel a particular sensation, then relinquish them, only to thrust back in again, my juices swarming over my calloused hands. I have no fear of anyone ever witnessing my acts, so I swarm my hands over my chest and coat it, absorbing the remainder of fluids with my mouth as I bring my fingers to my lips, drawing out long, satisfying moans. Masturbation certainly serves its purpose, but though I have only begun doing it recently, I already thirst for more, despite knowing I shouldn’t. It becomes especially unsettling knowing that just up the hill, young boys are stroking themselves and sending out streams of sperm, perhaps evoked by thoughts of my teenage body pleasuring them. I can’t say for sure that I would regret it if those actions were to come to fruition.

…Forgive me again; my personality must seem so shallow at the moment. However, in all honesty, I had almost decided on another session of self pleasure, feeling a heat in my chest and my nipples harden, when a rap at the front door sent off a split second moment off panic within me. I still have trouble dealing with changing scenarios quickly.

“Ms. Combatir?” Nothing seemed too distinctive about this gruff man. I hoped sincerely that this visit was little more than a brief conversation.
“That is me.”
“A message from Master Zelos’ manor.”

I felt my head instinctively tilt to one side as I tried to discern something from the man’s face.
“For what reason –“
“I have done my duty. Goodbye.”
I examine the man once more, and subsequently, after affirming he will have no further impact on my life, turn my attention to the envelope, which is indeed affixed with Zelos’ seal. I would expect nothing less as I gaze upon his admittedly handsome visage, complete with his smirk and wink.
Putting my hormones to the side for the moment, I tear the seal to reveal the envelope’s contents.

“Dearest Rosebud:

Sorry to send you a stalker-type letter like this, you know how word of mouth spreads, especially when you’re, well, the Chosen. I’m sure you must be tearing up at this moment, reflecting on our memories together, and wondering how I’m doing? Well, I’ve made things a lot better with Seles, and I’m working hard with Regal to help devote resources to the slum part of town. There’s rarely a moment for fun, but…well, that’s where you come in.
Um, look, I’m just going to come right out and say this. You’ve still been stuck in your village since the quest ended, right? I can imagine you must shake your head at the quality of the guys there. I deduced that you might have a lot of suppressed emotions that you want to...explore, so how about a date with me? You have always wanted to make up for your lost time, and I am THE MAN to help you do that. What do you say?
I’ll be at my mansion full time the next few days, just give me a knock and my butler will recognize you and let you in. Sounds good, right? I’ll see you later, Presea.”

-Zelos W.

I ponder this scattered, jumbled mess of thoughts. For one, he seems confident that there is absolutely no chance of my refusal. I had assumed he had gained somewhat of a deeper knowledge base concerning me and my…openness for such random events. Secondly, the percentage that this is a ploy to…use me…with the petty excuse of ‘make up for lost time’ as his reason for me to spend time with him…is extremely high. He also assumes that I have some invested emotional baggage concerning the absence we have accumulated in the past two years.

Now to assess the positive qualities. ….. ….. …. Excuse me…Well, he did use my given name at the conclusion of his ramble…Zelos typically does not give that amount of recognition. If the entirety of his letter is genuine, then he seems intent on helping his hometown and the less fortunate, which is a trait that I absolutely desire. Strangely, even if his reasons are not pure, would it be entirely negative as to…experiment? At least in a ‘recreational, having a social life’ kind of way?

I reprimand myself. This line of thought will simply leave you left in Zelos’ bed, stained with his sperm covering my teenage body, my emotional state somehow more degraded that what it is now…I shudder to myself. Don’t become one of them…

I will go. I will confront Zelos and show him how he cannot manipulate every girl he intends to. I will perhaps even publicize my victory and show young girls everywhere that we are not mere tools for men to fornicate on. I will leave him unsatisfied and confused, but not physically harmed, a pain I have often wanted to inflict upon him during our journey. Because in our world, only the wounds one can see in the flesh have any chance of producing punishment for the guilty party. Besides that, he is an egotistic…bastard…who will never admit his defeats. I can feel that icy glaze returning to my bright eyes.

I realize this logic sounds extreme and unnecessary. I could crush his self-esteem just as effectively by not replying and resuming my life. But, this will be a fine test for my motivation, and my social skills may benefit as well. It is easily a productive way to spend my time. The thought inspires me. I smile as I survey my other self in the large oval glass in the room. Perhaps I will tease him, dress slightly provocatively, but not revealing too much to seem…slutty. I giggle; this ‘fashion’ sense still doesn’t seem natural to someone like me, but I find it intriguing. Every man wants an attractive 14 year old girl; those forbidden feelings never completely relinquish their hold.

I cannot wait. I find a pencil I carved from some spare wood, and begin to construct a fabricated letter that will deliver false hopes and assumptions to the Chosen. He will not suspect my true intentions. It will suggest an air of naiveté about me, such as that I have no idea what it is he has planned. Quite perfect.

Dear Zelos:

Thank you for writing to me, for…caring about me, after all this time. I have high spirits after digesting your information about your sister and your revitalization efforts. Being there for your sister is…of paramount importance, and Meltokio should be…grateful…to have such a generous power as their aid. I certainly remember your personal generosity and aid during our journey, and, though it is certainly awkward for me to admit personal emotions, I must say that I have failed to repress the tears from falling as I reminisce.
Your assumptions are correct, I am still working in the village, and while the population has warmed up to me, it is not at all nurturing or beneficial at this point. I am ready to...try...something different, with you. I do not wish to look back on any more years wasted. I do not know how it will pan out for sure, but…I will definitely be waiting on your doorstep sometime. Please be expecting me.

Sincerely, Presea C.

My body is on fire. Nervous energy. …what? Why nervousness…any energy I feel should be of the aggressor. As I strip down to my undergarments, I take substantial amounts of time analyzing my shapes and curves. My pigtails create an aura of innocence, of fragility…. Yes…Zelos will want this body. A pause. A sincerely gaze into my mirror. He won’t have it of course…

I settled into my bed. I would need to arrive at Zelos’ shortly, to make him believe that I genuinely desire to be in his presence. Tomorrow night will be adequate. I wonder what events he will have planned, what actions I will have to take to keep him interested while keeping my own resolve solid.

My mind focuses hard on these wonderful, slightly malicious plans, fighting valiantly to make me ignore the wetness of my sex and my erect nipples poking through my nightgown.