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“What have you done to me!?”
Paul Atreides stood stooped, his head scraping the top of the tent. His fists were balled and the whole of his body shook uncontrollably. Paul’s eyes flickered with a contempt that he could barely restrain. His father had died so recently that his body was surely not even cold, and the whole of the duchy that he was raised to inherit had slipped through their fingers, firmly into the hands of the enemy. Now stranded in the desert, Paul could only unleash his frustration on the one other person he shared his new world with. Jessica, his mother, sat with her knees tucked nearly to her chest, wracked by the grief of losing her husband and not fully aware of what had made her son so incensed.
“I gave birth to you.”
It was the only response that could momentarily placate him. As Paul’s anger subsided, Jessica took her son’s hand in both of hers, reading the pain that was written in the heavy lines of his too-young face. Paul, his awareness ever-expanding, only felt the steady flow of new data into his mind. The nature of his mother’s heritage, her pregnancy with his unborn sister, and the forces at play on Dune all poured into his consciousness as a great deluge.
Paul jerked his hand away. Cold, mechanical fury overtook him once again. He bitterly explained his newfound foresight, the terrible awareness that he had gained over both the present and future, and all the things he had just learned from it. He made no effort to veil his hatred for the Bene Gesserit or his mother’s part as a member of them.
“You didn't want a son! You wanted a Kwisatz Haderach!”
The peak of Paul’s fury brought about both revelations and accusations at a rate Jessica could barely keep up with. He was unrelenting, as if possessed by the words and forced to speak them aloud. The things that he said must have been impossible for him to know for sure, extrapolated off the most minute observations and waking dreams, but he presented them with such unquestionable certainty that they made Jessica hesitant to challenge him.
“Paul! That's not true.”
Some part of him must have recognized the truth in that statement, but it did nothing to lessen his anger. His own emotions felt foreign, detached from his mind but still strongly affecting him. Paul awaited the sadness of mourning, but only found his temper. Even that felt slippery, swinging wildly between cold, bitter deliveries of logic and gut-wrenching pangs of intensity.
In the process of his exposition, Paul had taken hold of a long hook that had come with the fremkit, and clutched it tightly in his hands. Though he had taken hold of it as part of his explanation of Fremen technology and their planetary influence, he now branded it unthinkingly as if it were a weapon.
I’ve trained my child in the ways of the Bene Gesserit, who now speaks as if he’s a full Mentat, not to mention that he might even be the Kwisatz Haderach. He’s nearly a man in size, but still has the temper of a teenager. Driven by grief and with years of combat training in preparation to take up the mantle of Duke--Paul could be sincerely dangerous to me, or to himself.
In his entire life, Jessica had never seen Paul like this. Recognizing both his power and grief-driven anger, she could not deny the part of her that was afraid of what her son was capable of. She felt the stark necessity of placating him before he lashed out and hurt someone. The Bene Gesserit taught but one ultimate method to calm an angry man without harming him. Until now, it was something that she reserved solely for the Duke, but of course, he was now dead. It followed a sort of logic that her lover’s heir should fill his place. Jessica adjusted her position to make her lap available and gently patted her thigh, indicating for Paul to join her.
“Would you lay your head in my lap, like you did when you were young?” she asked.
Paul narrowed his eyes at her. “I know what perversion you have in mind. I don’t see any point in entertaining you, and I hardly think it’s the time or place for something like that, anyways. I’m trapped by this flood of information, beyond what even a Mentat should be capable of.”
To have my intentions laid so bare is one thing, but I’m surprised that Paul’s objections are so mild and rational, rather than anything moral or attraction-based. The Bene Gesserit, of course, have no qualms with incest, and perhaps I’ve taught him to be overly lax about the subject. Possibly, with this heightened consciousness, Paul has transcended the culturally enforced discomfort around the subject entirely.
“So be trapped, then, but be reasonable and hear me out! Sex. Endorphin release. It’s a means to placate the harshness of one another's moods at our emotional peaks. It would eradicate any embarrassment or fear that lingers between us while we lack the luxury of privacy. If we’re to traverse this desert for long, we can’t possibly be at each other’s throats, nor can we be burdened with unnecessary stress. We can share our bodies with one another and sleep tonight as having come closer together, rather than drifting apart. It doesn't have to be anything more than that, Paul.”
“Is that really appropriate for us to do right now? It would feel like having sex on my father’s grave.”
“I don't know if we’ll have a better time to do it.”
“But why now?”
“You and I must be bonded beyond mere family in order to survive this, Paul. We must care for each other as we do ourselves. Even more importantly, if we expect this desert existence to be the next phase of our lives… you and I may need to conceive your heir while out here.”
“What about my sister that you're pregnant with?”
“Nothing can be known for certain, Paul. Are you saying you're not interested?”
“I’m still a virgin.”
“Should we risk dying tomorrow, would you like to change that tonight?”
Paul swallowed dryly. “I would.”
Jessica’s arguments were persuasive enough for a hormonal teenage boy, and her voice had a warmth and sweetness to it. Paul recognized that some, but not all of what she had said had been manipulative, indicating veiled intentions and emotions that she didn’t wish to say out loud. He conceded, letting out a long sigh along with some of the tension he had been holding in his shoulders. Paul fell to his knees and crawled over to his mother, laying his head across her lap. For several minutes, Jessica did nothing but run her fingers through Paul’s hair.
“I’m not a child anymore. We should be conserving our energy and thinking about what we’re going to do next,” Paul said.
“Please, allow yourself to relax. You're growing up too fast for me,” Jessica pleaded. There was a hint of mourning in her voice. Paul said nothing. “I’m your mother. I want you to feel good, especially on a night like this.”
Paul didn't respond, nor did his expression waver. His mother proceeded, running her fingers down the chest of his stillsuit. The leathery surface that had been pure black with a semi gloss sheen this very morning was now dusted with fine, cinnamon-colored grit. She found the hidden zipper down the front of the suit and unzipped it almost the entire way, stopping just above Paul’s waist. So as not to impede the suits’ functions, they wore no garments beneath them. Since they had first arrived on Arrakis, Paul’s face and arms had gained a healthy tan, while the rest of his body was a full shade lighter. He had the same slight dusky hue to his skin as his father did. A slight odor of sweat emanated from his bare skin, but any moisture must have been long since wicked away by the suit.
The suit was designed so that Paul’s cock was tucked into a sleeve against one of his thighs which then led into a pouch that preserved the moisture from when he relieved himself. Jessica freed it from the sleeve and found her son to be partly erect. For all his reluctance and acidity, Paul’s body betrayed that he wasn't fully opposed to this decision.
Neither of them spoke as Jessica slowly stroked Paul to an erection. Neither of them had anything positive that they wanted to speak of. Paul took after his father in many ways, so it seemed, and Jessica felt strangely proud of his attractive form, his well defined bone structure and toned body. Although he was surely at a turning point in his transition into manhood, Jessica saw the little boy she had raised as he was half-curled across her lap, slowly grinding his cock against her hand.
Small, suppressed moans broke out at regular intervals as, just barely, Paul began to lean into the pleasure of the situation. Jessica wondered when she’d need to do this again, as the strain of their new life of desert exile would surely rear its head in Paul’s psyche in the future.
This is the Kwisatz Haderach, the male Bene Gesserit, here in my arms. And here I am, caring for him in the same way I did for his father.
Paul twisted around slightly to look at his mother. “I’m not the Kwisatz Haderach. Put that out of your mind. You might have expected me to be, but I’m not. I’ve arrived too soon, and so I’m something different. A monster.”
My thoughts, laid bare! It was painful, the way Paul fired that word ‘you’ as if with lethal intent.
Jessica felt confident that she was the more vulnerable between them at that moment.
“You’re my son, Paul.”
Paul turned his head away from her with a huff. Jessica unzipped her own stillsuit partway, and gently turned her son’s head back to face her. Wordlessly, she freed one of her breasts from the stillsuit and guided her nipple into Paul’s mouth. He took it without protest. Jessica now cradled his head with one arm, and slowly stroked his cock with the other. There was a rhythm to the motion that she was familiar with.
Paul writhed in Jessica’s lap, suckling on Jessica’s breast. His arms were wrapped around his mother’s waist, fingers halfheartedly clawing the small of her back. He looked very young and very helpless. For all the challenges that tomorrow may bring, Jessica was happy to put her son at peace for just this moment. Despite being muted by her flesh, Paul’s moans became increasingly audible, and his rhythmic motions of suckling and grinding into Jessica’s hands became more feverish.
Forget Dune, forget the Harkonnens and the Fremen. We will face tomorrow’s challenges when they come. For now, all that matters is Paul and I.
Jessica inferred that Paul must have been close to finishing. Paul’s voice was higher and softer when he moaned, as if embodying his reversion to boyhood in his mother’s lap. Before she could make him cum, though, Paul pried her hand away from him. Separating himself from her nipple, he looked up to face her.
“I don't want to finish like this.” Paul said.
“What would you like instead?”
“I am a man now.”
“So it would seem.”
The intention behind his words were well understood by both of them. Paul sat up and allowed Jessica to adjust herself. Jessica unzipped her still suit completely, dividing the whole front of the suit into two halves. Following that, she laid on her back and spread her legs.
Paul crawled over to her, his face the same expression of indifferent detachment as it had been before. He did not touch Jessica as she would expect a virgin to, uncertain and with anxious excitement, but acted with the steady, steely confidence that she had glimpsed at only in short bursts as Paul discovered this new level of awareness. All the same, his emotions lacked a practiced fluidity that betrayed him as an amateur.
Paul spent a minimal amount of time attending to his mother’s pleasure before mounting her. Jessica was not wet enough for Paul’s entrance to be without discomfort, but a woman of the Bene Gesserit could take far more pain than that and not show it. A mother wouldn't show pain in front of her son. There was something distantly humorous in the fact that this was the second Duke Atreides that Jessica had slept with. Paul fucked far more mechanically than Leto, resisting small acts of intimacy such as kissing or prolonged eye contact.
The air became filled with small noises, Paul’s suppressed moans and Jessica’s soft words of encouragement. A few noises became caught in his throat, gasps or groans that were cut off abruptly as it was overtaken by another uncontrollable exclamation. Choked, unpleasant utterances replaced more and more pleasant ones, until at last they broke down into sobs. Paul pulled out and flopped beside his mother, tears now flowing freely down his cheeks.
“Paul! What's wrong?”
“My father’s dead, and I’ve taken his lover. I can’t do this.”
“In many places, this would be customary for a house such as ours.”
Paul spoke bitterly, spitting his words out between sobs. “If I had tried to strangle you just then, would you be able to stop me?”
Jessica sensed other roots of his disdain. “I would use the Voice if I had to.”
“If you think that would be enough, perhaps. There's a part of me that wants to hurt you. To punish you. Partly for being born Harkonnen, and partly for being Bene Gesserit. But I can't go through with it.”
Jessica hesitated to speak, unsure of how to navigate this situation. “Do you still want to make love?”
‘Make love.’ Jessica usually didn't care to describe sex that way. The term surprised her as it left her mouth, but it was the correct one to use. She meant it wholeheartedly.
“I could be frighteningly powerful,” Paul said. “I’m dangerous.”
“That may be so, but it’s not what I asked.”
“Maybe so. Yes, I do. But I can't be in charge tonight.”
Jessica stroked her son's damp cheek. “Of course. You've been through a lot today.”
Jessica’s hand roamed down Paul’s body, and was pleased to discover that he was still completely hard.
The tenacity of young men, she thought. Sating his sex drive regularly could be a demanding task.
Sweat dripped from each of their bodies, feeding nearly undetectable channels in their tent for the purpose of moisture reclamation. Without such technology, reproduction would be unfeasible in these merciless desert conditions.
Jessica took her position above Paul. It felt unfamiliar for her to be on top of a man smaller than her Duke, but Paul had inherited his father’s proportions in the most important places. Paul surrendered his body to her, laying limply while she guided his cock inside.
There was a new understanding of what they were doing now, unspoken save for through their motions together. Nothing was to be held back or ashamed of, and they now made no effort to suppress the noises of their satisfaction. This was to be a union that strengthened their bond beyond what it could be otherwise. Despite Paul’s general competency in most things, it was somewhat of a relief that Jessica could rely on her own sexual experience to provide pleasure for the both of them.
Paul grasped at Jessica’s waist, unthinkingly kneading her skin like a cat might. For the most part, he kept a steady rhythm with her, at times losing control with a few quick, sharp thrusts, which Jessica might have chided him about in another time. A Bene Gesserit should not lose control of their bodies in such a way, but for a grief-stricken son on the cusp of manhood, she made an exception.
Many of his mannerisms reminded her of Leto. The tone of his breathy gasps, the unfocused stare that he adopted as his mind was either taken somewhere else, or blanked completely. Jessica would have to process later whether it was a good thing or not that she was immediately replacing her lover with his son, for she did not want to impede her ability to grieve him.
“I’m close, Jessica!” Paul said between gasps for air.
“Hold nothing back!”
Paul found a new well of stamina, digging his nails into Jessica’s soft flesh and overtaking their rhythm with a fresh intensity. He fucked breathlessly, desperate to reach his climax. Paul pressed his body against his mother’s, hilted himself as deeply as he could inside her, and came.
His cock twitched inside her, unleashing what felt to Paul in that moment as a lifetime’s worth of cum saved away for his first time with a woman. It was a massively cathartic moment. Each of their moans reached a feverish crescendo, and when they finally subsided, the night air was almost unsettlingly quiet. Free of a storm or any harsh winds, the only noise around was the soft inhalation of them both catching their breath. Jessica collapsed against Paul, planting kisses along his neck, cheek, and then lips. They laid there for a while, long after Paul had gone soft inside of her.
When they did decouple, a torrent of mixed fluids spilled out and across the tent floor. Jessica flopped down beside her son, who tucked himself against her body. Paul could hear the loud beating of his mother’s heart, and was sure she could hear his equally as well.
“I had never considered how much moisture sex pulls from you.” Jessica said.
“It’ll be collected by the tent and recycled, regardless. Our losses shouldn’t be significant.”
Despite all that had just happened, it was hard to find more to say. Grief was still at the forefront of their minds, and fear for the future crept around the corners of their thoughts. Without the immediate thought of sex clouding their minds, they had to turn their attention to other challenges.
In almost perfect silence, they gathered up what they needed for bed and crawled into their sleeping bags. For the first time in years, Paul pressed himself yet again into the crook of his mother’s body, who reached an arm around him and pulled him tightly against her.
Along the path of becoming Muad’dib, Paul and Jessica would share their bodies together many times, and would spend the night afterwards nestled against one another. They rarely spoke of it, discussing neither morality nor their expectations of one another in that way. The Fremen had no qualms about it.
As Paul refined his Bene Gesserit training of the body, it became customary to end a session with sex. Chani endorsed his closeness to his family. As he grew into a man, a leader, and a warrior against the Harkonnen and the Emperor, Paul would return home to lay with his mother. Even when Paul took the mantle of Emperor, he found time for Jessica. Through each change in their lives, Paul would find his way back into his mother’s arms again. They would be a source of comfort for one another.