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I Am Obsolete	By : PandorasFury Category: S through Z > The Twilight Zone Views: 2314 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with nor do I own the Twilight Zone. I am not profiting from this story and I do not know any actual people involved.

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    Renate woke Hans the next morning.

   "Your breakfast is ready, sir." Her voice was still full of fear and she diverted her eyes from him when he looked up at her.

   "Thank you, dear, I will be right out." Renate left his room, and Hans sighed to himself. He knew next to nothing about Renate; she never spoke about herself or her past. She was focused on pleasing him and avoiding his wrath, especially now when he was so volatile and miserable. Learning about his wife might help him to appreciate her, he thought.

   The savory smell of sausage, eggs and buttered toast lingered in the air, and as he entered the kitchen Renate gave him a reluctant hug. Her body was warm, soft and inviting. Her hourglass figure, her large, round behind and her soft and plump hips enticed him. Holding in the lust he felt was more difficult than bearing a cross, so instead of what he truly wanted to do, he kissed her full, plump lips. Again, with a sure reluctance, Renate returned his affection. He knew it wasn't genuine. He had hurt her too many times.

   "Don't hurt me, Hans. Please," she said to him in a quiet, meek whisper. She diverted her eyes again, looking to the side as redness crept into her cheeks. He couldn't bring himself to reply: he felt guiltier than he ever had. His vow of purity was important to him: logically he knew that to be with his wife before she was mature enough to understand would be the worst thing he could do to her. Knowing this did not put a stop to the lust, however, and there were times that all he wanted was to throw her on the floor and fuck her until she passed out.

   "Thank you for breakfast," he said. He made sure to stress his appreciation. She smiled halfheartedly and sat down. It saddened him the way she picked at her small amount of food like a tiny sparrow.

   "You're welcome. I know you like it when I cook for you, sir."

   "Why don't you eat, Renate? Aren't you hungry? I worry about the way you eat. What if you get sick? What would I be without you, love?"

   "I want to keep my figure for you sir. I know you wouldn't like me anymore if I grew fat. Pleasing you is my priority, sir." Again Renate made a halfhearted attempt at a smile. Hans took her hand and stroked it, feeling the soft skin of her small and youthful, though slightly chubby hands.

   "No matter what you look like, love, you will always be beautiful to me." She was right, however, that he would think her weak and slovenly if she grew fat. Weakness disgusted him, and a person who allowed himself to grow fat showed nothing but weakness of character and of control of the appetites. This was unacceptable. Everything he fought for during his time as Chancellor stressed strength of both mind and body. His wife becoming fat would dishonor him.

   She was like a pleasurebot with a pulse. Her drive to please him removed all flaws from her, and he found himself annoyed at times with her lack of spirit and of uniqueness. Sometimes it occurred to him that he drove her to this, and her fear of him prevented her from being a real human being.

   Her beauty was stunning, compounded by her innocence. She was not a classic beauty; she was sickeningly pale in the winter, and swarthy in the summer. Long dark, reddish brown hair cascaded down her back and she possessed distinctly Mediterranean and Middle Eastern features. She was a more plump woman by nature, not fat, but not thin. At first this put him off a little, but after noticing the way her waist curved and her hips flared out he couldn't take his eyes off of her. Renate was modest, and at times, doubtful of her beauty. She was reluctant to take a compliment and it didn't matter how many times he assured her of it. He knew that she realized she would never be a tall, thin picture of Nordic perfection.

   The innocence and meekness with which she carried herself was endearing, but off-putting at the same time: he never knew what she was really thinking, or how she truly felt about him as a husband and a man. When with company Renate was quiet, submissive, and always up and about cooking and otherwise trying her best to accomodate their guests. His friends thought she was the perfect wife; her friends' wives thought she was a weak-willed and detestable robot. Renate had no friends; she was completely alone in the world without him and he knew she was lonely. She seemed to crave companionship and the company of other women more often than not, and he often caught her crying after his friends' wives left. He assumed this was because of being cast out of conversation, not included at tea and watching the women trade knowing looks while in her presence.

   He found her gazing at him, presumably awaiting a cue from him to leave and go about her business.

   "You may leave me, dear. Enjoy your day and I will see you this evening. I am going out on the town for a bit to run some errands and see some friends at the pub, but I will return this evening. You'll have dinner ready for me, I expect, and I want to spend time with you tonight." Renate nodded in agreement, and he noticed the slight shift of her eyes and a small twitch of the upper eyelid.

   "Yes, sir." She kissed him lightly on the cheek and crept out of the room like a mouse, almost frightened to be noticed.
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I Am Obsolete