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[I always found one passage from “The ones who walk away from Omelas” really hot, so I took it as a writing prompt for my first try at smut. Enjoy, and I’d be happy for feedback.]

The original Text starts with a description of a Utopian city called Omelas. This text begins with an excerpt from that.

…But even granted trains, I fear that Omelas so far strikes some of
you as goody-goody. Smiles, bells, parades, horses, bleh. If so, please add an orgy. If an orgy would help, don’t hesitate. Let us not, however, have temples from which problem gorgeous nude priests and priestesses already half in ecstasy and ready to copulate with any man or woman, lover or stranger, who desires union with the deep godhead of the blood, although that was my first idea. But really, it would be better not to have any temples in Omelas–at least, not manned temples. Religion yes, clergy no. Surely the gorgeous nudes can just wander about, offering themselves like divine souffles to the hunger of the needy and the rapture of the flesh. Let them join the processions. And let there be the public bath house, towering several stories in the cities center, containing pools and wells for the people to frolic around. And one thing which I know there is no in Omelas is swimming clothes. No one is hiding their body from the other out of shame for their own lust or what desires they might inspire in strangers. For those desires are a central part of the joys at public display in this spot.

For those who visit Omelas from the places further away, this bath house can be quite the experience. When they first undress and play around in the pools, they tend to get insecure when their eyes behold an especially gorgeous girl floating exposed in their midst. Their physical attraction starts to show and there is no way to hide it. Soon, however, the visitor will notice that this is nothing to be ashamed of. Especially when said floating girl notices from the corner of her eyes the uncomfortable stranger looking at her and decides to go to him, and mount him then and there, between the others, rhythmically string the surrounding waves. Both to relief his discomfort and to take her own pleasure with him. Maybe with time, this stranger will get more comfortable with the customs of this place. Maybe soon he will, when his desires waken again, stall into the marble room, with the hot showers, where a group of young women is just cleansing themselves from the dust of the streets. He might choose one of them, and just by approaching her, and putting his hand on her back, communicate his intentions. And she might, with not so much as a word, grant him access by slightly leaning forward and opening her legs, so he can enter her under the running waters, and pleasure both of them until he spends his seed in her. Their passionate moans will echo the small room and the adjacent halls, for everyone to hear. And maybe others will be stirred themselves and join the fun. Or maybe they will just watch and pleasure themselves absentmindedly while they enjoy this sight.

This is also the place, where the people who grow up in Omelas, as they come of age, are introduced to the physical reality of sexual pleasure. When in a class, the last person has become 18, the teachers lead the whole group in one of the smaller halls. Here they get a live demonstration by some of the more experienced inhabitants, the variety of how a human body can look like, and some basic methods to give and receive pleasure. This is normally accompanied by quite some excitement, as everyone is gitty to ask their questions, or touch everything with their own hands. After all the rules has been thoroughly explained, the young adults now have the right to also enter bath house at their will, which most of them promptly do. Some of them might eagerly rush in, go to the biggest saunas, and take their pleasure with a dozen people before finally coming to rest half a day later. Some others might just swim through the steamy river at first, in groups of 2 or three, watching the surrounding spectacle, and touching themselves under the surface beneath the fog where nobody can see them.

The new things that there are to find do not, however, limit themselves to the merely inexperienced. There are also events that cater to the more acquired tastes. So, for instance, the games, that accompany the festival of summer. Oh the games, how shall I describe them to you?

A whole week of illustrious activities for the eager to participate in, and for the rest to watch in awe. So for example, “capture the maiden”, where a group of women takes a perimeter around a fountain, on witch sits a eager you women, traditionally still a virgin, for the suitor sto be captured. The suitors (maybe a hand full of men) try to cross the perimeter and deflower the maid. The fun comes in with the rule, that any man who ejaculates anywhere but into the maiden is taken out of the game. So as the suitors try to tussle their way through the line of defending women, they in turn try to use their bodeys in all imaginable methods to disqualify their adversaries. The back and forth of wrangling, humping and shouting is quite the sight to behold, and for the daring, a gigantic joy to part take in.

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