The Eternal Bliss of Siaamaa

by Vahid Zakeri

Translated by M. Moghisi

Part 1 appears in tis issue.

conclusion

We were silent. I heard Robaabeh meow softly. I don’t remember for how long we didn’t talk. I didn’t feel good. It felt like I was just a tool for her revenge. I was considering ending the relationship when suddenly I wondered: Where is he?

Siaamaa’s response shocked me even more. Her husband was in the ever-blissful sleep of BlissHouse! I wanted to say, “You came to the Khoshaabad tour with me while your husband was here?” but I didn’t. Her voice trembled with tears. She said her husband had been in the BlissHouse for weeks, as if he had forgotten about her.

My curiosity grew. “What pleasure is he experiencing? The peak pleasure of fucking?” I didn’t mean to be sarcastic, but I couldn’t help it at the end.

“You wouldn’t believe it...” She mentioned a strange name I couldn’t remember. It was some kind of ancient and apparently expensive wine that her husband loved, and in the BlissHouse, he was experiencing the peak of intoxication from it. After that, I don’t remember what we said. I had moved past thinking about ending the relationship. I felt a mix of pity and suspicion, along with a new and strange attraction to Siaamaa.

Ranjitaa had gotten us a discount from Khoshaabad. It was a package deal with a maximum of two hours a day and the ability to store one pleasure. The first month of using the BlissTool was also free. It was worth it. We ordered it and made plans to record our pleasures.

We placed the BlissTool on our heads. They resembled royal crowns. Siaamaa laughed, “How does it feel, Mr. Prince?” She was beautiful and fragrant. She never bored me. I winked at her.

The BlissTool could automatically detect the peak of pleasure. Although Khoshaabad recommended that near the climax, we press the button that came with it. It was a difficult task. I placed the button on the side table, with its switch facing up. I watched Siaamaa expertly place the BlissTool on her head. She said Ranjitaa was an expert with these devices and tools. She neatly tucked her hair under the crown. Her cherry earrings dangled charmingly. We brought out the dolls, kissed them, and lay down.

Siaamaa kneeled with her back to me, lowering her head and stomach while raising her hips. The arch of her body was enticing. I looked at her lower back and the tender charmpeach between her legs. She turned her head from below and stretched out, saying, “Meow... meow...” I lunged at the doll. I could feel Siaamaa’s warmth and wetness through her body. She moaned softly.

My desire intensified. I struck the doll’s buttocks with my right hand. Siaamaa let out a louder moan. Her scent filled my nostrils. I increased the pace and intensity of our movements. On the screen, I saw my doll riding Siaamaa, moving in sync with me. I focused more intently. It seemed to lag by a few beats. I paused until it caught up. Then we continued together. I closed my eyes. Behind my eyelids, there was a cherry-red circle. I heard the sound of our bodies slapping against each other. My teeth clenched, and my breath passed quickly between them.

I opened my eyes for a moment and pressed the button. I was free, at the peak of pleasure. Siaamaa said she had pressed her button too. Now we had our climaxes recorded, stored in the memory of our BlissTools.

I could sit in a chair and, crowned, immerse myself in a sexual ecstasy. I was unconscious, aware of nothing but a deep, long-lasting pleasure accompanied by Siaamaa’s scent. It was a unique experience. Even after the daily two-hour sessions, the feeling lingered in my body.

But it wasn’t like this at first. I didn’t want to use the BlissTool. It seemed intrusive, watching my most private moments with utter audacity. It observed my climax and meticulously recorded all my bodily actions. It felt as if I had no secrets left; I was exposed and defenseless.

I didn’t share these thoughts with Siaamaa. Maybe it was out of distrust. Maybe it stemmed from a deep-seated fear within me. My anxieties were soon joined by another fear. What if I became addicted to it? Maybe a bit late, but I delved into the matter. I obtained a copy of the original certification from HWO, which Khoshaabad’s guide referred to.

According to the certification, using the tools for up to four hours a day was permitted, probably to prevent physical and mental addiction. Now I had permission for only two hours anyway. I researched further. Except for a few minor cases, there were no reports of negative effects on the body from using the BlissTool. Those reports were on unreliable discussion forums, likely backed by underground groups dealing in traditional and digital narcotics. After all, it might be affecting their market too.

Then an older fear surfaced. What if my sexual desire diminished? What if I no longer felt attracted to Siaamaa? These concerns made me use the pleasure tool for only a few minutes at first. After using it, I constantly checked myself to see if my sexual desire was still intact. I would recall Siaamaa and her meowing. My manhood would awaken again. I felt reassured. Although these doubts only lasted a few days. The bliss from the tool had captivated me.

I began to fill the daily two-hour sessions continuously. I even slept with Siaamaa more often. It was as if each time, we were seeking a newer, higher bliss. We recorded our pleasure with the tool and experienced it longer. It was so good that I was tempted to try other pleasures. The ones that the guide said were exclusive to Khoshaabad. Maybe Ranjitaa could get us another discount. Siaamaa had said Ranjitaa was her closest friend; she would do anything for her. I asked, “How about we try other pleasures?”

Siaamaa paused and said, “Death-Lady?!”

Sometimes her mind had a dark flair. I was about to comment when she continued: “Actually, let’s do something different. Instead of playing with dolls, let’s do it in person at my place. We’ll record our pleasure. It’s more enjoyable in person.”

It was tempting. If I said that going outside was dangerous, she would scold me again for overthinking and being unnecessarily obsessive. Deep down, I felt uneasy. But there was also a strange pull to see her up close. I put on my special outerwear, along with a face mask and gloves. I called the virtual assistant and requested a one-person vehicle to Siaamaa’s place.

I was en route when Siaamaa called. I saw her image on the car’s screen. She said, “How interesting! I’ve never seen you in your special suit before!” I raised my hand in response and waved. Then she made me nervous and shocked again. Her husband was at home. She quickly explained that she had been trying to get a discount from Khoshaabad, “Didn’t you want to try their other pleasures?”

I said, “What does that have to do with anything? You’re just being secretive! You’re lying! It’s obvious. What are you even doing, and what do you want?!”

She seemed to ignore my anger. She said that the condition for the discount was accepting a trial program from Khoshaabad, bringing the BlissHouse equipment to their home to test their efficiency and productivity. I was furious: “Your husband accepted Khoshaabad’s offer, and now you get the discount!?”

I wanted to add a few curses to my sentence, but she quickly said, “He wanted it! He’s completely willing. Right now, he’s in a corner of the house, drunk and in a bliss.” She had moved out of the frame.

I remained silent. I was about to say goodbye and turn back when Siaamaa reappeared with a short scream. She raised her hand, “Your flower just arrived. Wow, it’s beautiful!” and sent me several air kisses. I had ordered the flower for her before leaving. I was torn between going and returning when I saw her raise her other hand and show me a white and red charmpeach. “Your fruit is ready, too!”

She opened her door to me. I wanted to feel her with my hands. But first, I had to go to the cleansing room. Everything was disinfected, from my outerwear, face mask, and gloves to my clothes and entire body.

Siaamaa was waiting for me behind the cleansing room door. She was dressed all in white. I hugged her. The warmth of her body was more than I had imagined. I could feel her heartbeat. I said, “I’m so happy to see you in person.” I also saw her unfiltered smile. We shared a kiss. Her scent filled my nostrils more intensely. I loved her.

We ate, just like the last time. We sat on either side of a small table under a saffron light. Siaamaa was again eating vegetables with mushrooms, lemon juice, and pieces of chicken, and I was having grilled fish. Robaabeh was further away, occupied with her food dish. I waved at her a couple of times, but she ignored me.

I saw the shelf beside the table with the flower and charmpeach on it. Above the shelf was a painting of a night sky, with the moon shining behind the clouds. It seemed familiar. Siaamaa stood up slightly and filled my glass with white wine. Her cherry earrings dangled. She looked beautiful and desirable. I said, “Isn’t this like the profile picture you had before we met?” and pointed to the painting.

“That was a photo of a lunar eclipse.”

“What difference does it make? The moon is hidden in both.”

She gave a faint smile. She paused, and then her smile grew brighter. “I also have a painting of the visible moon.”

“That doesn’t need a painting, the moon is visible right here in front of me!”

She said nothing. She just held her smile and took a sip. I turned my head to the corner of the house. “Is that the room?”

“What? The painting or that fool?”

I wanted to say “the painting,” but then it occurred to me: Where is her husband?

She seemed to read my mind quickly. She continued: “He’s there. It was the only place without cameras... He really didn’t want the cameras to see him while using the BlissTool.”

“How long does he use it?”

“He has two one-month sessions. Although he must refrain from using it for a week in between.”

“Does he know about us?”

Siaamaa hesitated and nodded slowly. I asked, “Did he know I might come to see you?” She was silent and just looked at me. Robaabeh let out a purr. Siaamaa didn’t pay attention. I said, “Can I see?” I expected her to ask again, “The painting or the fool?” and I would answer, “Both.” But she didn’t break her silence. She quietly stood up.

I followed her. She opened the door to the corner of the house. There was a dim light and a faint smell of something like alcohol. Her husband was lying on a bed with the BlissTool’s crown on his head. A red light continuously traced a circular path around the crown and then went out. His eyes were closed, and his face seemed damp with sweat.

White, box-like devices surrounded him. I saw the painting too. The moon had emerged from behind the clouds, shining brightly. I yawned. I felt a drowsiness taking over. I was about to leave when I saw a bottle of wine near the bed. Its name was small and unreadable. Siaamaa seemed to know. “His favorite wine, he’s drunk on this.”

I moved closer. Behind the bottle and in the shadowy light, there was a glass jar. I picked it up. I was about to ask, “What’s this pickle doing here!?” when the contents of the jar stunned me. I couldn’t believe it. I gasped involuntarily. Inside the jar, a penis was floating in a greenish-blue liquid. I quickly glanced at the bed and her husband. It seemed like the middle of his body was covered with an extra layer of cloth. I shouted, “What have you done, Siaamaa?!”

She stood with her arms crossed, looking directly at me, “Don’t worry. He’s alive.”

“We need to call a doctor immediately!”

“These machines keep him alive.”

I put the jar down. I didn’t know what to do. I looked at the white and black tubes emerging from under the cloth, leading to the boxes. I could hear Siaamaa’s voice,

“They handle his food and waste. His wound is also stitched.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth? Did you do all this alone?”

She was silent. I repeated the question, and she remained silent again.

“Ranjitaa? You said... she’s skilled with installing these devices...”

She said nothing. I shouted, “Say something!”

She shouted back, “He deserved it! Do you know how much he tormented me? You know nothing. You know nothing at all!”

Her voice had become a shriek, filled with sobs. Her eyes were wet with tears. She stepped closer and stood over her husband. Furiously, she shouted, “Do you remember when you said I would repulse even a male android? Too bad you can’t open your stupid eyes now! ... To see that I have a real man now!”

My mind and body were in turmoil; I couldn’t think. I sat by the bed, staring at the wall and the painting. It slipped out of my mouth: “What’s the point of his drunken bliss now?”

The question wasn’t really for her. It was more of a whisper to myself. I saw a broad smile settle on Siaamaa’s face. I stared at her more intensely. My anxiety grew. There was something. I knew it. But I couldn’t understand what. She could see my confusion and despair. Perhaps that’s what made her speak. I listened, and sweat and shivers covered my body.

Ranjitaa had helped her. Her husband had been asleep. They had tied his hands and feet to the bed. They had placed the BlissTool on his head. They woke him up momentarily. The pain is said to be more intense that way. Siaamaa had a dull knife. She had recorded her husband’s pain during the mutilation with the BlissTool. She laughed and said it should now be called the AgonyTool.

Ranjitaa had brought a medical bot, one of those robots that disinfect and suture. I don’t know. Maybe she was telling the truth. Then they had put the AgonyTool on her husband’s head. They had blocked all the ways for him to come out of that state. Her husband could no longer emerge from that agonizing stupor and unconsciousness by his own will. It seemed that only those external devices could stop his agony. I screamed, my voice trembling, “Where is it? Which device is it? How can it be turned off? Look at the pain he’s in!”

“The devices are sensitive. If you disconnect one of them, he might die. Though maybe he prefers death now!”

And she laughed loudly. Her eyes were still wet with tears. Robaabeh had come and was staring at the bed. Siaamaa was still laughing, and more intensely. The brightness of the moon in the painting hurt my eyes. I heard Siaamaa: “I’m so happy! So much! I’ve never been this happy. I want to feel like this forever.” She paused and continued, “Bring the BlissTool, baby. Eternalize my state! I want to be like this forever! Forever!”