Storiesonline.net
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                            Taking Deliveries
                           by Thinking Horndog

Copyright© 2008 by Thinking Horndog


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Description: The much-requested sequel to Shopping Around. The antics of the group picked up by CPLs Taylor and Evans on their first night aboard the Catch-22. A Swarm Cycle Story

Codes: MF FF ScFi poly slave bi het D/S Mdom humil voy interr oral anal mastrb toys
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Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyrighted with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. Reproduction for profit is forbidden. Any distribution must include this note and the author's email address. Don't be caught attempting to make a buck off me!

Warnings and disclaimers:

This is adult entertainment! Be warned! If you're not into graphic depictions of sex, this is the wrong story for you! If you're too young to be legally reading this, move along!

This is a work of fiction. It is not intended to reflect any particular person or persons, and the incidents portrayed exist in their current form solely in the writer's imagination. You get the idea.

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Chapter 1


CPL Pete Taylor stood at the hatchway to Collection Area C on the kilopod transport Catch-22 and sighed. In some ways, making a pickup was the easy part...

The collection of people in the cavernous room made the ungodly din that people who have no idea what's coming next ALWAYS seemed to make -- and he could barely hear himself think! Dialing up the volume on the loudspeaker in his ring, he roared, "All RIGHT! BE QUIET!"

The room seemed to shake; he'd pumped the volume up pretty high! "Sorry about that," he continued, after backing things off, "but right now, you need to hear one voice -- mine! Nobody here but me and my partner know what comes next -- and the only way ANYBODY is gonna find out is if EVERYBODY keeps their yaps shut long enough to get the word!"

The ensuing silence wasn't perfect, of course; civilians just didn't get it. Military discipline could yield such a thing -- and they'd get there -- but not for a while yet. Besides, there were a sprinkling of kids present -- and when kids are scared, NOBODY could shut them up for long!

Pete could certainly be heard, though -- and with a lot less amplification. "All right," he continued. "You're all in the same boat at this point. Everybody knows about pickups, but what happens after is the subject of rumor and legend. Well, I'm going to educate you all and dispel some rumors -- and maybe confirm some legends -- but first, we need to get somewhat organized. Sponsors -- that would be you guys with the CAP scores above six point five -- collect your concubines into a tight little group. Get everybody's CAP card, and get a headcount of those that don't have one. Be able to discuss those without cards intelligently so we can figure out who is who, later. Find out from your concubines how many eligible offspring they have still on the surface of Mother Earth, and decide whether you're gonna plan on asking to have them retrieved. And last, but not least, ask everybody in your little family if he or she needs medical attention for anything like high blood pressure or diabetes or anything they're on drugs for ... Everybody got that? Wave an arm -- don't yell! You've got ten minutes -- when you know everything I asked you to find out, park your people's butts in one place and come see me!"

"Excuse me!" Someone was waving. Pete eyed him, trying to place the name. Francke?

"Yes?"

"What's this about deciding..."

"We'll talk about that when you come up here," Pete cut him off. "Then, if you need to, you can take the answer back to your family."

Francke nodded and turned away.

"Okay, the clock is ticking!" Pete added. "The sooner we get organized, the sooner everybody gets food and a place to sleep and a shitload of answers! Go to it!"

Some people turned up pretty quickly -- and others took more time. Sandrine Knopf, the only woman in the sponsor group, turned up first, with CAP cards for Bradley and Barbara Pinchot, and the information that their minor children, Chantal and Bryce, were present and accounted for.

Wayne Moore accounted for Cathy Clark, the foxy brunette who had pulled a train at pickup, and Debra McPherson, the schoolteacher. "Cathy might need to have her ass looked at," Wayne muttered.

Jason Frederics showed up to report that Allison Tate, the counter girl with the sad mouth, and Nadine Peters, the construction worker, required nothing.

Elliott Bradley turned up with cards for his two dumpy secretary types, Phyllis Parker, and June Thatcher. "Who do I talk to about making them a little younger?" he asked. Both had what were probably minor prescription issues.

"Later," Rick Evans told him. "Emergencies first. Why did you... ?"

"Ahhh, I just couldn't leave 'em..." Elliott shrugged. "I'm an old softie, I guess."

Rick looked mildly disgusted. "Do you like either of them enough to want to have a half-dozen kids by her?"

Elliott wrinkled his nose. "Well, it was the luck of the draw. At least I know 'em. I'll manage."

"Well, you can START by NOT being an 'old softie' ANY MORE!" Rick warned him. "You own them -- not vice-versa -- and they need to understand that up front, or your life will be shit, believe me!"

Elliott nodded. "I'll bear that in mind."

Mike Fisher arrived next. "I'm gonna need baby stuff," he related, "for little Tommy. That would be Linda's kid." He handed over her CAP card. Linda was the last female selected -- a chubby, brown-haired dishrag type who was so slow off the mark that she almost stayed behind. "And Jolene has three kids on the ground -- I think her sister is watching them. Tyrone, Nishelle, and Broaddus." Jolene was a scrawny, mouthy black chick with nipple rings in her droopy titties.

"They're all under fourteen?" Pete asked.

"Supposedly."

"I bet you're thinking you should have kept Nikki," Rick chuckled.

Mike grimaced and shook his head. "At least this pair know what sex is. I don't envy Mitch." Mitch Francke had somehow ended up with a pair of teenyboppers -- each inherited singly from Mike when he discovered that older women wouldn't have anything to do with him for taking on young stuff.

Kiran Patan was the first of the Sevens to show up, with cards for his pair of Indian women, Amita and Sharmila, young Isobel Montoya -- and Kellie Wentworth. "We need nothing -- for now."

"About the Wentworth chick," Pete began.

"She is worthless for anything but an object lesson to my other women," Kiran snorted. "She is dull and foolish and I see no use for her except as a collection of holes to abuse -- but if the others learn respect, it will have been worth it, dealing with her."

Pete pursed his lips. A certain spoiled young brat was going to see hard times -- if he hadn't just heard her death sentence... "What about Isobel?"

"Isobel is spirited, but I believe that she understands discipline and obedience to authority," Kiran declaimed, adding blithely, "She's not Indian, of course ... On the other hand, Amita and Sharmila will need to be un- Americanized..."

Pete nodded, thinking, 'This could get ugly... '

Kiran, looking off toward the groups, muttered, "Here comes Sanket. He did well with Rachana, but why he took on those fat aunties..." He shook his head and moved off.

Sanket Parsupula arrived, clutching cards for Rachana, Anne Mayweather, Inez Montoya, and Donna Eggers. "Anne may need assistance for diabetes, and Inez for high blood pressure," he related.

"Your colleague doesn't understand your selection criteria," Pete related.

"I'm uncertain that I understand them, myself," Sanket related diffidently. "Rachana ... Well, I couldn't leave her. Anne, well, holds an odd fascination -- I'm not sure whether it is physical or mental. Donna is pleasant to look upon and seems to have some sense..."

"And Inez?" Pete prompted.

"I felt sorry for her. I hope, though, that she will work out, once a part of her youth is recovered." Sanket shrugged.

"Well, she's a wiser head, at least," Pete noted. "Good luck."

"Thank you." Sanket moved off.

"Very different from his friend," Rick noted.

"Yeah..."

Mitch Francke arrived next, carrying cards for one Michelle (Mickey) Rawlins, the bushy bleached-blonde mother of two, Tamara Jackson -- also a mother of two, Nikki Swenson, the fifteen year old bleach blonde with the mouse-brown muff, and Vicky Ellis, her quiet, brown-haired friend. "I've got three pickups," Mitch related, "Mickey's girls Lisa and Petra, and Tyler Gregory. Tamara's kids Leah and Latoya are with her."

"The Gregory kid -- umm, Michelle is the legal guardian?" Pete confirmed.

"We have a note from the mother and a verbal from the father that there is a document," Mitch replied.

"He's being very careful," the AI transmitted through Pete's implant. "He is speaking what he believes to be the truth, but it appears that he has concerns that something might occur at variance with the plan."

Pete nodded, subvocalizing, "I think this is a last-minute thing." Addressing Mitch, he asked, "So what's up with this?"

Mitch sighed. "The mother, Bettina Gregory, is ... unstable. The husband is going broke trying to cope, but he can't farm the boy out all day every day -- and he's in danger at home, so..."

"How many charity cases does that make?" Pete chuckled.

"I dunno," Mitch grunted. "Three? Six? Nine?"

"I've got you beat," Elias Whitcomb announced himself. He started handing over cards, "There's that sow, Sue -- fat, ugly AND stupid -- Penny McBride the pigeon-toed Holocaust survivor, Alicia Cortez the grouchy greaser, some chunky cunt named Beth Savage whose only claim to fame seems to be that she wants kids..." He wrinkled his nose. "Maybe you win after all. The little chink bitch seems to have a head on her shoulders and isn't hard to look at, and Denise, the brunette, has an ass to die for..." He rubbed his nose. "I oughta get triple credit for Sue, though..."

"Got any issues?" Pete asked, knowing the answer.

Elias cocked his head. "Don't suppose there's somewhere around here I could smoke..."

"Not hardly!" Rick chuckled. "The Darjee would freak and there would be bird shit ALL over the place!"

"Well, if you got a fix for it, Alicia and I are gonna need it," Elias sighed. "Dunno what I'm gonna do with my hands, though..."

"With six women available, I can't see you not finding SOMETHING to hang onto!" Rick jibed. "Go get Alicia -- you're in the first wave at Medical, when I call for you." He started adding numbers on his electronic notebook. "Nine sponsors. Twenty-eight concubines. Five kids on site, and six to be picked up. Seven for Medical."

"Ummm..." a female voice sounded behind them.

Rick glanced over his shoulder at Maureen. "Oh, yeah. Twenty-NINE concubines. If Pete makes a habit of forgetting you, Honey, just wander over to MY place -- you hear?" He grinned at the tall blonde.

"I said this before, and I'll say it again," Pete retorted, "GET YOUR OWN!"

Rick laughed.

"Come here," Pete crooked a finger at Maureen. "Do you have any medical problems? Anything?"

"No..."

"Well, don't hesitate to tell me, so we can fix them," Pete told her.

"I won't, um, sir," Maureen replied diffidently.

"For now, 'Pete' is fine," Pete told her. "I have a lot on my mind right now -- make sure you don't get left out of anything. Come here..." He pulled her in and backed her against him, rubbing her belly. "Do you mind being naked?"

"Um, well, a lot of people are..."

"You're likely not to wear a lot of clothing for a while," Pete told her, "largely because you're such fun to look at."

"Is that normal?" She relaxed against him and enjoyed the feel of his big hands on her body.

"A lot more so than it would be down on the ground," Pete told her. "Lots of sponsors take a while to get used to seeing their concubines in skin. Some never tire of it."

"I imagine that depends on how the concubine looks," Maureen said quietly. Based on experience, she had no reason to expect any man to have a whole lot of interest...

"True," Pete agreed. "Like I said -- you're gonna be naked for a while..."

Maureen was nonplussed. "I don't understand why..."

"Well I do!" Rick laughed. "You probably look your best naked, because then everyone can see that there's not a damned thing wrong with you!"

"I..." Maureen blinked, surprised.

"Just like going to McDonald's and ordering it up super-sized -- only I got a hot blonde!" Pete chuckled. "Rick's all jealous..."

"B--but..." Maureen's hand flashed to the only thing really wrong with her -- a splash of acne across her cheeks, half-hidden by make-up.

"That?" Pete laughed. "That's NOTHING! Rick and I have seen a LOT of female flesh in the past few months -- take it from us, you need VERY LITTLE help..."

"That's sweet..." Maureen didn't really BELIEVE a word of it -- but it sounded nice...

"I'll show you later -- first, back to the salt mines." Pete released her, reluctantly, and stepped away. "All right!" he addressed the group, "it's time for the briefing! Can everyone hear me? You don't want to miss this! SILENCE!" Things quieted down; Linda's little one Tommy was snuffling some. "Hey, uh, Linda!" Pete consulted his list. "Do you breast feed?" Linda nodded. "Well, whip it out and make him happy, willya? Obviously, nudity isn't a problem here..."

Linda looked around, dazed -- but there were a LOT of women in various stages of undress present ... Mike leaned over and whispered, "Just do it." Linda nodded and handed him Tommy so she could open up her blouse...

Jolene sighed. "You're gonna have to babysit her Baby..."

Mike produced a crooked grin. "No, YOU are. Get her out of that rig," he waved at the bra. "Everybody else is naked -- at least she has a reason."

"I just don't..." Linda muttered, shrugging out of the bra.

"Shh!" Mike replied. "Feed him!" He handed her Tommy back. "You watch things -- you know what you're doing!" he added to Jolene.

"Are we under control, here?" Pete asked somewhat sarcastically. Mike waved. "All right -- this is the big briefing. Take mental notes -- it's all pretty simple really, but for some of you it's gonna be a shock!"

Pete looked around. "I'm gonna start at the bottom, with some basic terms. Officially, just about every woman in this room -- and one male, if memory serves -- is referred to as a 'concubine.' The person who chose you on the ground down there, we refer to as a 'sponsor.' He was watching Linda, who was listening as best she could with an expression of utter confusion on her face. "Wait a minute -- I think I started things at too advanced a level..."

"What's up?" Rick subvocalized.

"At least one member of our audience has no fucking idea what's going on," Pete muttered back. "When I give the high sign, pop the shutter on the port, willya?" Rick nodded and headed over to a bank of switches. "All right -- forgive me, but when I look around, I see faces that have no clue about the basics. For those of you who have some idea what's up, this might seem elementary, but you probably STILL haven't let the whole thing sink in -- so hang in there while we put everyone on the same footing, okay?" Pete swept the group with his eyes, gauging them. "A little while ago you were all in that cute little bakery place, having breakfast or your midmorning break. Then we showed up and the world changed. You stepped through a portal and arrived here. What do you think you did when you did that?" Pete looked around. "Anybody? Raise your hands and I'll pick out a volunteer..."

Several people raised her hands; Cathy Clark got Pete's attention. "Go ahead," he told her.

"I became a citizen of the Confederacy?" Cathy guessed.

Pete grimaced. "It's probably not as simple as that. Your sponsor, who had already volunteered for the Confederacy's armed forces, became a citizen, but you didn't, really. I'll go into that later, but there is something basic that each and every one of you did ... Sanket?"

"We emigrated to the colonies," Sanket replied, obviously fairly sure of himself.

"That's correct," Pete nodded. "You have kissed the home world goodbye. You are no longer citizens of the USA, or even the Earth. Where do you figure that means you are now?" Pete nodded at Rick, who hit the switches.

Behind them the protective cover of the port slid open -- and the Earth hung there, heavy, taking up over two-thirds of the visual field. There was a collective gasp, multiple exclamations, and at least one short scream!

"That's not a video," Pete declared. "Anyone who believes it is can play in an airlock, if they like -- but I don't recommend it! Welcome to the kilopod transport Catch-22, in Earth orbit!"

Linda started out at the scene in horror! She couldn't breathe! For a moment, she just stood there, swaying, panting -- then she turned to Mike and said faintly, "I just wanted a bagel ... Breakfast was cheap there, and I was broke..." She started shaking like a leaf. Mike pulled her to him and she tucked her face in his shoulder; little Tommy was supported between them more or less automatically.

"I'm sooo fucked..." Jolene muttered, gazing out the port. "So totally fucked..."

"I'll take care of you," Mike promised, "Both of you. Okay?" He was holding Linda, but looking at Jolene.

Linda, her face hidden, said, faintly, "Okay." Jolene just nodded, looking dazed.

'Slut' -- or Kellie Wentworth -- knelt before Kiran, gazing out the port, dazed. "Your father and all of your influential friends are down there," Kiran told her, with a certain malicious satisfaction. "They can't help you. Soon, we will leave this place. You are no longer a child of privilege; you are nothing, own nothing. You belong to me -- and are more a pet than a person. You are beneath the lowest of your household servants -- and the sooner you understand this, the better."

"Surely not..." Kellie moaned.

"Wait," Kiran told her. "See if I am not right."

Nadine Peters peered out the port. "Pretty," she murmured. "So, we're kissing it goodbye?"

"Looks like it," Jason replied.

"I wonder if there are any jobs in the building trades where we're going?" Nadine muttered.

"No idea," Jason replied.

Leah and Latoya had their noses pressed to the port material, whatever it was; Tamara -- even with Mickey's help -- hadn't been able to corral them. Nikki and Vickie drifted in close behind them, less happy about the whole thing. "I think our social life just hit the wall," Nikki opined.

Vickie, as usual, limited herself to, "Yeah."

"Dios Mio!" Inez gasped. "So it's true, then..."

"It's ... a shock..." Anne breathed.

Rachana whimpered and tucked herself against Sanket, hiding her face in his shoulder, while Donna clutched his hand.

"Well, THAT's pretty..." Elias mused. Looking around, he took stock of his women's reactions. Sue was frozen in place with her mouth open. Alicia was scowling. The Jap girl -- what WAS her name? -- looked somewhat concerned, but in control. Beth I Want to Have Kids looked out the port, then looked away -- and clearly wasn't planning on looking back. Scrawny Penny had her head tucked in Denise's shoulder -- and Denise was eyeing Elias.

Pete waved at Rick and the port shutter closed -- to loud complaints from Leah and Latoya. "I need everyone's attention," he answered the objection. "Sponsors, get your concubines under control and we'll continue." There was a mutter and a shuffle and Pete determined that just about everyone was again oriented in his direction. "I don't have to tell you that your lives have just changed," he continued, "but I get to tell you how much!" He crooked a finger at Maureen, who stepped in close, then he pointed at the floor. Maureen cocked her head, then knelt in front of him, facing his audience, but looking up at him for confirmation that she was doing things correctly. Pete reached down and cupped a breast, and held onto it, continuing, "Where you came from, this is sexual harassment. Here, it's something different. I told you a bit ago, that most of you are officially described as 'concubines' and the rest are officially referred to as 'sponsors' -- well, if you want to understand the reality, the first group would be called 'slaves', and the second would be 'masters.' Concubines, your sponsor owns you -- he or she is responsible for your behavior and his or her word is law! There is no Constitution -- therefore, you have no unalienable rights. Sponsors are subject to military discipline -- and that's about all there is to the official legal structure. Concubines are subject to the whims and demands of their sponsor -- period. There is no justice, no appeal to a higher court. Your sponsor has complete authority over you -- literally to the point of determining whether you live or die! Some of you are going to have a hard time getting this through your silly heads -- and I'm here to tell you that's a GREAT way to get shoved out and airlock without a vacuum suit or recycled into burgers! Is anyone here married to their sponsor? I don't recall..."

Bradley Pinchot raised his hand and said diffidently, "We're married," pointing to himself and Barbara, "but SHE's our sponsor!"

Pete nodded. "In a way, that's a relief," he declared, "because wives who get picked up with their sponsors are the single most likely group to end up too stupid to live! Bradley, I hate to break it to you, but you're not married any more. Sandrine has the right to split you and Barbara up at any point she chooses and dispose of either or both of you as she sees fit. Are we clear?"

Bradley blanched, but nodded, sharing a glance with his former wife.

"Now, your sponsor can choose to pretend he's running a democracy, or whatever -- but the moment you leave your quarters, he's responsible for anything that you do, so even if he's Mr. Nice Guy, if you fuck up, he may be forced to punish you -- severely! I've already defined the limits of the legal system -- and I'm here to tell you AGAIN that while your sponsor has limits placed on his actions where it comes to other sponsors, he has ABSOLUTELY NONE where YOU are concerned! Remember that!"

Pete sighed. "I know that I could stand here talking until I was blue in the face, and some of you wouldn't get it. What I'm going to tell you now is more convention than hard and fast rules, in some cases -- and I'll point THOSE out. First, children are NOT slaves. Children are the PRIMARY PURPOSE that most of you are here for -- you're going to have more, regularly, because we want to grow as a race so we have the numbers necessary to confront our enemies! As a result, children do not share the lowly status of their concubine parents. They are expected to be properly disciplined -- and by the way, the 'hands off' methods of Dr. Spock are not thought well of, as they don't teach a healthy respect for the consequences of one's actions -- but they will NOT be mistreated by either concubines or sponsors! Children will not be subject to any sexual contact until they reach fourteen, at which time, they'll be tested and take their place in society as adults, either as a sponsor or as a concubine. Until then, they're sponsors in training."

Pete scanned the group again while marshalling his thoughts. "What are the duties of a concubine? It's pretty simple, actually. You do whatever the fuck your sponsor tells you to do! Primarily, you're here to make your sponsor happy while cranking out and raising a huge family for him. Cooperate with your fellow concubines so the whole thing is light work for everybody -- that's why there is more than one of you to a sponsor. Your sponsor has other duties -- raising kids is YOUR problem. Oh, he'll be around and will make final decisions on important subjects, but he has a job outside the home -- and you don't; things have reverted to a more or less medieval model -- sorry about that. So, once again, your job is to keep your sponsor happy and crank out children -- anything else is icing on the cake."

"Exceptions," Pete continued, "would be doing violence to another sponsor -- and vice-versa. This isn't set in stone, but sponsors, the general rule is you have yours and he has his and you keep your hands off each other's! You don't have the right to discipline somebody else's concubine -- but you DO have the right to demand that HE does it. If you don't own it and you don't have permission from the guy who does, don't go playing with his toys! Can a sponsor lend out a concubine? Yes. Can sponsors trade concubines? Yes. Could a sponsor sell a concubine? Yes, but given the fact that money and possessions aren't huge in Confederacy society, what the buyer would use for cash is unclear." Pete waved at the group. "Your current layout isn't set in stone; some of you will have made mistakes at pickup -- and a swap might fix it, either between you or with another sponsor you haven't met yet. What's fair is what the two sponsors involved decide is fair -- note that the concubine has no input here! Oh, your sponsor may pay attention when you wheedle him that the guy he wants to trade you off to is old and ugly and so forth -- but he doesn't HAVE to, and if he doesn't, you're stuck! Plan to be nice to Old Ugly, or plan not to live much longer!"

Pete glanced around. "I'm getting tired of talking, so we're going to move on to other things. Over the next few days, you'll all attend a series of briefings on all of this -- and no doubt, you'll see a few object lessons! This is a thousand pod transport, and it's over half full; in the next few weeks, somebody is going to screw up and you'll hear about the results -- it's bound to happen. Try to learn from it." He glanced at his pad. "Let's move on. Elias, bring Alicia up here. Elliott, drag your pair up. Sanket, I need to see Inez and Anne. Wayne, what's the status of Cathy's ass? Mike, why don't you bring Linda and Tommy here and we'll see about baby stuff. Everyone else, I'm placing in the hands of my colleague Rick, here, who will start assigning you your quarters. Try not to give him too much trouble, please..."

"Gee thanks!" Rick grunted.

"I'll be back in ten or fifteen minutes," Pete chuckled. "Settle out whoever you can while I'm gone." He waited while those whose names he'd called straggled in, then waved, "Follow me. Maureen, you can come, too."

Medical -- actually, Medical Unit C -- had a half-dozen tubes available, which wasn't a surprise since they were scheduled to service Pete's pickup. Elias eyed the tubes suspiciously. "So, what do you get in there?"

"Nanobots," the medic replied. "First, a full diagnostic, then nanobots programmed to fix specific issues, along with other therapies. This isn't a change run, it's just clean-up, fix-up, paint-up from the inside out. What's the urgent issue?"

"Smoking," Pete replied for Elias.

"I figured," the Medic grinned. With Elias, it was obvious; he looked like he was being smoked like a ham from the inside out. "Settle yourself in the tube -- this will take maybe twenty minutes."

"Suppose you pop her in first?" Elias replied, pointing at Alicia. "Same problem as me ... Being I'm responsible for her I want to see her tucked in."

"Oh, SURE!" Alicia rolled her eyes. "You just want a guinea pig!"

Elias grinned. "Well, that, too."

Alicia sat in the tube. "Will it hurt?"

"Nope. You'll go to sleep and wake up healthier," the medic replied. "The cure actually takes a couple of days -- we just start it here. You'll be getting some gum to chew to get you past the worst of it."

"Tried that," Elias grunted.

"This time it will work, because the 'bots will be tuning the receptors. The gum is just to keep the cravings down initially. It isn't the cure -- it just keeps you comfortable while the 'bots remove your dependence on nicotine."

"So willpower isn't required..." Elias mused.

"Nope."

"Lay down, Honey," Elias told Alicia. "I'm right behind you." He went and sat in a tube and watched her settle in -- and noticed something. "She was out before the cover closed."

The medic nodded. "Lots of people get claustrophobic, so we use a neural field dampener. That way they never get a chance to feel totally enclosed."

Elias nodded. "Pretty smart. All right -- let's get on with it. He settled back and the cover closed.

Several of the others were anxious, but no one was a problem. That left little Tommy, who had no apparent issues, but was going to need sources of baby supplies. Any concerns Mike and Linda had were quickly addressed; anything Tommy needed -- and more than Linda had ever dreamed of -- was available almost instantly via replication and an online catalog. "Lady," the medic laughed, "you're here to have kids; we'd be total fools not to have the stuff to support them!"

"How do I pay for this?" Mike asked.

"You show up for work, basically," Pete replied, shrugging. "Do whatever it is we're asking of you. Basic needs are supplied. Beyond that -- well, to be frank, there isn't much beyond that -- but how much more do you need?"

The AI's report on Cathy Clark's ass tickled Pete's sense of humor -- and Wayne Moore's, too, for that matter. "Minor anal tearing, naturally repairable in ten days -- two days under augmentation. Pre-existing scars also repairable in two days."

"Pre-existing scars?" Wayne asked.

"The subject appears to have a history of anal intercourse or other anal penetrations going back several years," the AI responded.

Wayne snorted. "Is that a fact..."

"It is deduction," the AI replied. "Direct evidence is lacking."

Wayne turned a confused glance on Pete, who grinned. "They can be literal-minded..."

"I see," Wayne grinned back. Then a thought occurred to him and he sobered. "How many years?"

There was a pause. "Verifiable data is unavailable," the AI responded finally. "More data will become available if and when progress data is downloaded from the nanobots conducting the repair. Current probability analysis for initial episode of scarring can be seen on the screen to your right." An age vs. probability curve appeared -- and Wayne gasped. "This says that she was having anal sex at twelve!"

"Yes," the AI replied. "From current data, it is statistically certain by age fourteen. It is expected that further data will result in an increased probability that the subject was first penetrated before puberty."

"That might explain a couple of things," Wayne mused.



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Chapter 2


Meanwhile, Rick started attempting to settle the remainder of the group in, but got bogged down providing answers to general housing questions like "Will there be food?" Not wanting to get bogged down in general questions that would need to be answered again in a few minutes, Rick re- opened the port shutters and made himself available for specific questions. There were several...

"When will we start picking up children?" Mitch asked, while Mickey hovered in the background.

"We need a half-hour of general briefings on where to go and what to do to get everyone settled, then that comes next," Rick replied. "A couple of hours, worst case. Is that a problem?"

"I have one in day care until noon ... after that, things could get ugly," Mickey replied. Rick looked at his watch, which was set to the zone local to the pickup site. "Eleven-twenty. We'll be pushing it. I can probably get you to a phone -- well, it'll be a patch..."

"That might be a good idea," Mickey replied. "If they can't find me by a quarter after twelve, they'll call Brett..."

"Your husband?" Rick clarified. Mickey nodded. "How big a problem is that?"

"I ... don't know," Mickey frowned. "We haven't been doing all that well..."

"We have rules about these things," Rick said gently. "You're stuck."

Mickey nodded. "It's for the best."

"Hey, uh, Jolene!" Rick waved at the black woman.

Jolene wandered over, eyes dancing. "You like rings?" she asked. Rick had been tracking the rings in her big but saggy breasts as they bounced and jiggled.

"They're an attention-getter, but that's not why I called you over," Rick replied, getting himself in order. Ogling some woman's tits didn't mean he had any serious interest -- just that he was male... "Do you have any kids that need picking up urgently?"

"Tyrone is in second grade -- they get out at two-thirty," Jolene replied. "The other two are with their grandma. She's gonna want to know where the fuck I've been, but..."

"We'll clear that up," Rick assured her. "Husbands?"

"Nope." Jolene grimaced and shook her head. "Hey, about this guy who picked me up..."

"You're stuck with him," Rick replied bluntly. "If he's not interested in YOU, that's another matter, but you're out of options."

"Well, what about my kids?"

"What about 'em?" Rick replied. "Has he agreed to take them on?"

"Uhhh, no. Doesn't he have to?"

"Well, no, he doesn't," Rick amplified, "but once he does, he's stuck with them -- even if he does away with you!"

"Uhh, run that by me again?" Jolene looked distinctly nervous.

"Were you listening earlier?" Rick asked. "Your sponsor has the right to trade you away, or even kill you -- but he has no such rights to your kids. Oh, he can ship them off with you to someone else as a package deal, but if he takes you out or sends you off to the Civil Service pool, he has to keep the kids."

"I'm having a real hard time with this killing me thing..." Jolene muttered.

"Well, that's probably not a big surprise. It really OUGHT to be a last-ditch thing -- but YOU need to know that it's a viable option, so we stress it some," Rick told her. "You are totally dependent on the guy who picked you up -- TOTALLY! I can't stress that enough! You need to plan to do absolutely everything in your power to keep him happy, because if you make a pain in the ass of yourself, YOU are the one who will lose by it!"

Kiran, who was more or less indulging Kellie out of a morbid desire to toy with her, had brought his harem in close so that she could ask questions. Kellie contributed to his amusement by bursting out, "How can you allow that?"

Rick eyed her. "Did you every watch old westerns? You know how there wasn't much law? If the sheriff or the marshal happened along, maybe he fixed things -- but in general, things were a little reliant on everybody doing what they were supposed to? Well, individual colony worlds have their own governments -- or they don't, in some cases. It's a frontier. Nobody tells them what to do -- except for the fact that just about everyone is in the armed forces. So we have military law, but it really doesn't extend to concubines, who are property. Remember the westerns? Well, it's probably best if you think of yourself as a c--..." Rick eyed Kiran and his Indian women; maybe they were Hindu -- in which case, cows were sacred. "Ummm, a horse. Stealing a horse was a crime and people got hung as horse thieves -- but shooting a horse was okay, as long as it was yours and not someone else's..."

Kellie looked kind of green. "I'm a horse?"

"Figuratively." Rick nodded.

"Oooohhhh..." Kellie could barely look at Kiran. "And if he shoots me?"

Rick shrugged. "Then he loses some breeding stock."

"Omigod." Kellie rubbed her face. "I'm dead..."

"Not yet," Kiran observed phlegmatically, "but the results thus far have not been impressive."

"I will ... What can I do?"

"Stop questioning and obey!" Kiran retorted.

"Yes, Sir!" Kellie bleated. "Um, is it Master?"

Kiran thought about it. "For now."

"Master, what must I do now?"

Kiran sighed. "Kneel at my feet, I guess." He eyed his other three concubines, obviously considering his options. Sharmila blanched and went to her knees, and the other two followed suit. Kiran returned his attention to Kellie, "Do you remember your name?"

Kellie blinked back tears. "I am called Slut, Master."

"Yes, you are," Kiran reached out to tousle her blonde locks. "Yes, you are."

Jolene watched the scene play itself out, working hard at denial -- and failing. It wasn't like there was anything wrong with this Mike character -- it was just the fact that she was not in control of the relationship. Each of her kids' fathers had been hot stuff at the outset -- but after a while, they'd gotten to be a pain in the ass, one way or another, and she'd put them on the street. Now, they were telling her that with this guy that wasn't an option -- that he held ALL the cards! Given her history, could she put up with that? And then there was that silly white cow he'd saddled them with ... Man, she was just fucking DUMB! Jolene had gone with the game on the ground, but now ... Now she was in deep shit, and there wasn't even a rope! "So, it's, like, possible to talk a guy into giving you to someone else... ?"

Rick grunted. "Sometimes. You have three kids, right? That's not going to make things simpler." He eyed her for a moment. "I know -- you like to run things. Well, if I were you, I'd settle for running Linda -- who can probably use it -- and making yourself look good with Mike by handling the small shit -- being head bitch. Right now isn't the time to try jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire!"

Jolene nodded, frowning. "Maybe."

"Trust me," Rick advised, "you want to know what's up before you even THINK about jumping -- those who don't are generally NOT happy with the results!"

Jolene's nod admitted the wisdom of this counsel, but Rick continued, anyway, "In the first place, he's offering to take on your kids -- which we encourage, but he's NOT obligated! You really need to see what you've got before you decide the grass is greener..."

Jolene grimaced. "I'm kinda hard to keep a handle on, sometimes..."

"Maybe you'll need someone with a little patience," Rick advised, "as opposed to someone without..." He swept his eyes to Kiran, who was no longer paying him any attention.

"Yeah..." Jolene sighed. "I'm just afraid he won't be able to hold his own..."

"Honey, you just have to remember that no matter what happens, you'll NEVER be boss!" Rick advised.

Jolene shrugged. "That might help."

"About the time," Mickey muttered.

"Yeah." Rick glanced around. "Come with me."

-------

Eventually, Mickey found herself fitted with a headset and a microphone; Rick had to get the communications techs to hunt down the headset, apparently. "Mrs. McPherson?"

There was a good one second delay. "Yes?"

"This is Michelle Rawlins -- Lisa's mother. I might be a bit late..."

Again the pause. "You know we don't tolerate that, Mrs. Rawlins. Where are you?" Mrs. McPherson sounded long-suffering.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Mickey replied.

"I suppose you're stuck in traffic..." Mrs. McPherson huffed.

"No, not really ... Not much traffic up here..."

"Are you drunk? Why are you so slow?" McPherson asked suspiciously.

"Why IS everything delayed?" Mickey asked Rick.

"It takes light a while to cover the distance from geosynchronous orbit," Rick replied. "It's making the trip twice..."

Mickey started composing a reply, but Mrs. McPherson beat her to the draw, "Geosynchronous orbit?"

Mickey changed up. "I'll be withdrawing Lisa from the school, Mrs. McPherson."

"Because..."

"Yes. I've been ... picked up."

"I ... see. We'll be waiting. I'll try to put together a few things for her."

"That's very kind of you, Mrs. McPherson. Please don't tell a lot of people -- we don't want any trouble or to endanger anyone."

"No, no -- of course not!"

"We'll be along as quickly as we can," Mickey assured her. "Goodbye!"

Rick rolled his eyes. "It'll be all over the school -- at least the faculty. We'll both have to go -- and have backup on call."

"Sorry!"

"Not really your fault." Rick sighed. "The other one is in grade school?"

"Yes."

"We'll drop in unannounced."

"Okay."

"This boy..." Rick eyed her.

"Is this going to be a problem?" Mickey asked.

Rick pursed his lips. "We're more or less committed. As long as your sponsor doesn't change his mind, we'll run with it."

"Thank you."

"At this point, I'm just doing my job." Rick looked up. "There come the stragglers -- let's go back."

Pete wasn't happy. "Couldn't you tuck some of them in?"

"They were asking questions in the standard briefing. It was run it down two or three times or do it right once. I did manage to scare a couple of the possible troublemakers and start working on the Rawlins woman's kids."

"Problem?"

"Day care lets out in twenty minutes."

Pete puffed out a sigh. "I guess it could be worse." He strode to a locker and popped it open to reveal some PDAs with GPS functions -- keyed to the ship, not the planet below. "All RIGHT! Listen up! He triggered a hologram displaying a chunk of the ship's interior in 3-D, then started a briefing that was all but canned, "We are here..." He pointed with a finger to a flashing dot. "Mess Area C is here ... Pay attention if you want to eat!" He related the basics of pod location and what could be expected to be found in one, where meals would come from, both inside and outside of the pods, the schedule for the next day or so, clothing ... Reaching into the locker, he pulled out a grey hunk of cloth. "This is the standard issue shift. I won't tell you that in the long run it's this or nothing, but it DEFINITELY is in the SHORT run! Everybody wander up and get one from my partner here ... Not sponsors, obviously. Ummm, Brad? Sorry about that..." There were giggles. "Sponsors, you're NOT required to have your concubines wear anything -- mine is gonna continue to be naked in fact -- but it is this or nothing for the next few weeks -- that's how we tell the players without a program. Concubines, get naked and leave your stuff in a pile with your sponsor, so you can sort out keepsakes, later..."

Some of the less appetizing concubines had managed not to be revealed -- Elliott Bradley's pair of dumpy secretaries, for instance. Now, the playing field got leveled as everything came out -- at least momentarily. Pete kind of got a kick out of the logic behind who got to get into a shift and who didn't; basically, if a concubine's sponsor told her to dress, she could take it to the bank that she was less than appetizing when nude. Elliott put his women back in shifts, but true to form, Elias put Sue, Beth, and Penny in shifts and left Alicia, Denise, and Shelley Nakahara (the Japanese-American girl) nude. Mike spent some time thinking about it, but went with nudity for both Linda and Jolene. Sanket dressed Inez only -- probably as much because she had an obvious nudity taboo as because her age and build left her needing work. Kiran moved everyone to nudity, to the surprise of Sharmila and Amita. Mitch looked around, then told Tamara and Mickey, "You know, it's more or less an insult if I put you in clothes..." They went nude; the younger pair already were.

"Hey, can I play?" Leah asked.

Tamara spun to rebuke her, but Mitch got there first, "This is a grown-up game, I'm afraid, Honey. You can run around frog naked in our pod if you want to, but not here, okay?"

"Cool!" Leah was thrilled -- but Latoya obviously couldn't understand the reason for the excitement.

Nadine just raised an eyebrow -- but Jason read it correctly. Another woman might have been angling for clothing, but Nadine wasn't. Allison went nude, too, and ended up holding Nadine's shift as well as her own while Nadine calmly braided her grey-shot black hair into pigtails. The picture was just too much of a stereotype; Jason couldn't help himself. "You aren't... ?"

"Yep, full-blood. You own a squaw, Honey." Nadine grinned.

There was never any question for Wayne's brood, but Sandrine spent some time obviously weighing things before she decided that BOTH Brad and Barbara would go without. "I think this is better than a shift, don't you?" she asked Brad. "Besides, I'd be proud of that..." Bradley had a nice- looking cut cock of a decent length -- fully erect under the vast amount of visual stimulation available.

"I'll get used to it," Brad said tightly. Actually, Sandrine was right; his position as the only male concubine made him unique, anyway, and a little mental flexibility let him put any embarrassment away fairly quickly.

"Moving right along..." Pete put things back on track, rapidly dispensing some more tidbits of information that were of immediate use, then handing out the PDAs to sponsors. "These are keyed to your pods and will guide you to them. If one of your concubines has kids to pick up, settle your brood and get back here with her, ASAP! Let's move! I want to see those with pickups back here in twenty minutes, tops!" Heads down, sponsors gathered their harems and moved them off down the maze of corridors toward their new homes.

Mickey Rawlins' broadcast sense of urgency pushed Mitch's group rapidly along despite the fact that there were a half-dozen others in the party, some of them children. Tamara and Mitch understood, Leah and Latoya wanted to dash around a bit, and Nikki and Vickie had no trouble keeping up. Getting past Elias' herd presented the only real obstacle -- and they weren't actively attempting to bar anyone. Elias took notice, but Mitch explained briefly, "We've got a pickup..."

"All right, Ladies -- quit acting like a herd of cattle and put your butts against the wall -- these guys have got kids to pick up!" There was a scramble, and women hit both sides, but the center of the hallway allowed passage.

"Thanks!" Mitch puffed; Mickey was all but running at that point.

"Better get a leash on that one before she outruns you!" Elias laughed. Other groups, having heard the byplay, made holes.

Mike had to get Jolene back, but the three of them were burdened by Tommy and his support materials; besides, Jolene's kids were safe until midafternoon. They went with the flow, eventually arriving before a door (well, hatch) that the GPS insisted belonged to Mike.

There wasn't a knob; Jolene, who was in the lead, felt around but found nothing. The PDA indicated that there was a touch panel, so Jolene tried that -- and it still didn't work -- but when Mike touched it, the door popped open. Jolene wasn't pleased. "What the fuck?" she groused as she led the four of them inside.

"You have a question?" The voice seemed to come from the air before them.

"Yeah," Jolene replied, glaring around, looking for a source. "Why didn't the door open for me?"

"You are not your sponsor," the AI replied.

"So I can't get in and out on my own?"

"Correct. This can be altered by your sponsor on a temporary or a permanent basis at any time," the AI informed them, "however, since newly arrived groups tend to be unstable and require some time to settle in, this is not recommended for the next several days."

Jolene glared at Mike, then grimaced as Mike waved a hand in an obvious 'leave it alone, ' gesture.

Glancing around, the four of them noted an open kitchen to the right of the entryway, followed by a dining area. Beyond this was a small open living room area with a single door beyond. "These must be temporary quarters," Mike observed.

"These quarters are considered to be permanent," the AI announced. "They are highly modular, and capable of expansion to approximately nine times their current volume without augmentation, but this is impractical while in space."

"I don't get it," Jolene grumped.

"Humans call this a pod," the AI explained. "Transports of this type deliver these pods in much the same manner as your oceangoing container ships deliver cargo. When the ship arrives at the colony world designated for you, the pod will be ferried to the surface and sited in a location where basic services will be provided. At that point, the pod can be resized and reconfigured to meet your needs more comfortably. While in space, however, you must operate within this limited volume for the operational efficiency of the spacecraft."

Linda looked around. "It's bigger than my trailer," she said simply. This was home? This wasn't so bad...

"I hate the color..." Jolene grunted. Things were uniformly grey.

"This is a common observation," the AI responded. "While the specifications for the pod were created by humans, actual manufacture of this series occurred at a Darjee facility. The Darjee perceive the electromagnetic spectrum differently than humans do. This is a human representation of how the pod appears to a Darjee..." Suddenly, the walls were light colors and covered with large, bright whorls of darker shades in what appeared to be random patterns.

"Yikes!" Jolene blinked. The change was pretty radical. Linda and Mike were likewise taken aback.

"This would seem to be a default human color scheme..." the AI droned on, and the walls changed to eggshell and the floor simulated a light brown tile pattern. Kitchen cabinetry assumed a wood-grained look, but the appliances remained stainless steel.

"Yeah, that's not bad..." Jolene mused. "Changing things is that easy?"

"With the basic wall and floor materials, adjustments for response to electromagnetic spectra are a standard function," the AI agreed. "Other items require greater effort or may not be readily changeable."

"Uh huh..." Jolene gruntred. "Carpet?"

"Extrusion of fibrous material from the floor surface takes from one to two diurnal cycles, depending upon depth."

"Diurnal cycles?" Linda blinked.

"Days," Mike replied. "Right?"

"Correct," agreed the AI.

"Sweet," Jolene muttered.

"Where can I put Tommy down?" Linda asked Mike.

"The nursery unit is on the level above, accessible by grav lift, " the AI told her. "Reconfiguration of the existing space is still under way, but once this pod was assigned the nursery assumed priority. The master suite, which includes a bathroom, is straight ahead. Two bedrooms for concubines, a bath, and a subdivided room for children will also occupy the level above when reconfiguration is complete, according to the standard floor plan for a group of the size reported. The rooms are being resized to accommodate this."

"So when do the carpenters show up?" Jolene asked.

"The process is automated; the areas are being reconfigured as described at this moment according to standard templates that the pod's wall materials are designed to conform to," the AI explained.

"So, the walls are movin'?" Jolene squinted at the far wall.

"Yes."

"That's fuckin' scary."

"You are in no danger," the AI insisted.

"How do I get to this other level?" Linda asked.

A spot on the floor in the left corner of the room lit up; above it, everyone noted an opening, now that their attention was drawn to it. "Stand on the lighted area and you will be conveyed to the second level," the AI told her.

Linda glanced at Mike, got a nod, and went to stand on the lit square -- and it rose slowly into the air without apparent support. The look on her face was priceless, and she clutched little Tommy tightly, but the AI droned, "There is no cause for alarm." Linda sucked in some air -- but she had arrived already; it was too late to get excited about it.

"I'll take the stairs," Jolene muttered.

"There are none," the AI retorted. "They would have been inconsistent with efficient utilization of the space."

"Uh huh," Jolene puffed out a sigh.

Upstairs, Linda diffidently stepped to the indicated doorway and stuck her head through. "Oh, this is nice!" The crib extruded from the wall, as well as surfaces for use in changing and bathing and storage areas.

"The arrangement is meant to be efficient," the AI's voice came from inside the nursery. "If there are issues, they can be adjusted as issues are identified."

"Thank you," Linda glanced around.

"You are welcome."

Linda placed Tommy on the soft crib surface and headed back out to the lift to go to the main room to collect the baby things they'd gotten at Medical. When she stepped onto the pad, though, it dropped rapidly, eliciting a short scream from her before it decelerated.

"What the Hell?" Mike yelled.

"I am sensing some surprise..." the AI murmured.

"That thing almost dropped her!" Mike yelled.

"Incorrect," the Ai replied. "She was merely deposited at the most efficient rate."

"It looked awful fast to me!" Mike retorted. "It was a LOT faster than she went up!"

"Allowances were made for the comfort of the infant," the AI replied, unperturbed. "This was your first experience with a grav lift?"

"Yes!" Linda panted, from where she leaned against the wall, having had the living shit scared out of her.

"Lift velocity will be moderated until you are more experienced," the AI said. "You are encouraged to practice utilizing it until you are familiar with it."

"Good frigging idea!" Jolene rasped. "Thanks for the frigging warning!"

"The error will not be repeated," the Ai replied, unperturbed.

"We should go," Mike announced. "Linda, you should be safe here. I bet you can get just about anything you need by just asking for it."

"That is correct," the AI agreed.

"This is gonna take some getting used to," Jolene mumbled. Linda looked around for the local source of the AI's voice without success and nodded.

"Well, we'll have time to dig into it later," Mike replied. The PDA in his hand was beeping and displaying a message requesting their return. "Come on, Jolene -- we're wanted..." He looked up at the ceiling. "For now, assume that we don't know how anything works and make explanations unless you're told otherwise -- understand?"

"Understood."

Mike waved Jolene through the door and they headed out.

-------

Others had different revelations. Because of the initial size of his brood, despite the fact that none of them had children, Elias got two pods -- and he was pretty callous about who got assigned where. "I'm sleepin' here," he announced, waving at the entrance to the first pod, "me and Denise, and Alicia and -- what the fuck IS your name, girlie?"

"Shelley," the Japanese-American girl replied, "Shelley Nakahara."

"Right." Elias shook his head. "Anyway. The other three of you are going in there where you won't bother me until we get some of the crap that's fucked up about you fixed. That'll be soon enough, I'm sure -- but I might as well work on the stuff that doesn't hurt my eyes first."

Penney, in particular, took it hard; she didn't have Denise to lean on and Elias' remarks hurt. Sue was almost used to such things; another insult in the great long line of them that was her life was no big thing -- and Beth was sort of numb, so it rolled off her. Elias sealed them in the other pod with a gruff, "Stay the fuck out of trouble," and turned to the trio that were to cohabit his pod. "Let's go."

"Um, about Penney," Denise piped up.

"Yeah, you've been babysitting her forever, and?" Elias grunted.

"Well, I know you hurt her feelings..."

"Probably. When was somebody gonna tell her that she's anorexic?"

"She isn't, really..."

"Honey, I've SEEN her naked! She's a skeleton and skin and pigeon- toed and needs probably forty pounds to be skinny!"

"Well..."

"If she gets upset and cries, maybe somebody will find her a gallon of ice cream to eat or something," Elias waved it off. "By next week it won't fucking matter, anyway. Now move that sweet bubble butt of yours so we can get a look inside this fucking place."

-------

Nadine Peters wasn't thrilled; the sophisticated materials and construction of the pods made it clear to her that motherhood was likely to be her primary occupation once again. "They won't need me for this," she muttered glumly.

"It's just new tools and materials," Jason replied. "I wouldn't let it get to me if I were you. Besides, we have other things..." He reached out to palm a breast.

"I don't see how you boys can get all excited over those things," Nadine muttered. "They aren't what I had at eighteen. Yeah, they're bigger -- but they aren't EVEN perky."

"They're womanly," Jason replied. "Besides, from what I hear, they can be perky again, if you want."

"That's if YOU want," Nadine pointed out. "I'm just a squaw."

"Yeah..." Jason's sigh made it seem like the greatest thing since sliced bread.

Nadine laughed and ruffled his brush cut. "Well, it's all yours -- but don't ignore the young stuff!"

Jason crooked a finger at Allison. "I don't intend to." He settled on the couch, pulling them both down with him.

Allison leaned into his lap diffidently, but Nadine told her, "Go ahead and find it -- I can wait for seconds. If you get stuck or need advice, let me know." Jason settled back to enjoy the absolutely novel experience of having two women plying him for sex.

Allison wasn't a virgin, but she wasn't far out of the gate. Her natural expression was somewhat down in the mouth -- not from any real unhappiness (at least, not at first, or not generally), but merely out of the luck of the genetic draw. Even when she smiled, she tended to look wistful. Since appearance is reality to a lot of people, she lived with the fact that a lot of people assumed that she was an unhappy young woman -- and that limited her options considerably. She'd managed to put herself out there on a few occasions -- generally under special circumstances -- but relationships hadn't been forthcoming. Now, she fumbled at Jason's fly and wondered why he'd picked her. Even if she'd been perpetually sunny, Allison was a big, somewhat softly-fleshed girl with lank brown hair -- there was nothing remarkable about her at all.

Lift your hips, Honey," Nadine directed, "give us girls some access." Jason did as he was asked and Nadine helped Allison get his Dockers and underwear down. Once it was done, Nadine backed off again and contented herself with rubbing Jason's neck and chest while Allison confronted his erection.

It was ... nice -- pink and curved and not huge but not small; Allison thought that with a little work, she could probably learn to deep-throat it. She held it at the base and ran her tongue over the head, listening to Jason hiss in pleasure. She collected his eyes and gave it a lollipop lick -- and the question in her mind found her voice without her thinking about it. "Why me?"

"Because you're sweet and you work hard and you have a good attitude -- and because you took the time to learn what I liked and made the effort to make sure I got it." Jason ate the same thing every morning; if someone else was tending the counter, they approached him as if they'd never seen him before -- but Allison would see him coming in the door and have his bagel toasting before he got to the head of the line.

"Oh!" That flood of words was probably the most appreciation Allison had gotten in one paragraph in some time! It told her so many things ... She dove on his erection, sucking gustily.

"Like I said..." Jason gasped through clenched teeth. She was all over his cock -- there was no way he was going to put on some impressive show and fuck them both before blowing his wad. Hell, he'd seen too much and done too much and was too worked up -- and Allison was sucking like a wild thing... "Aah, shit! I'm gonna..." His legs started to jump and he put his hands on Allison's head -- but she was doing everything he could ask for, anyway... "AAAGGHH!!!" His cock exploded just as her lips rolled over the flange of his glans, pouring one, two, three, four blasts of seed before the pulses backed off. Allison locked her lips around him and took it in, swallowing the sticky stuff, proud of herself -- and pleased that she could give something back after his revelation.

"If you had asked, I'd have said yes," Allison purred, settling back on her heels.

Jason got a 'deer in the headlights' look. "Asked?"

"You thought about it, didn't you? Asking me out?"

Nadine cackled. "Well, well, well! So it wasn't that random, huh?"

"No." Allison's laughing eyes dared Jason to lie. "It's been going on for a while -- but he wouldn't push things..."

Jason considered denials, but it didn't seem worth it. What had he said that let the cat out of the bag? "You don't have the right to ask a girl out just because she waits on you at a restaurant. What kind of guy hits on a girl just because she's at the cash register?"

"Every day?" Allison raised an eyebrow.

"It seemed ... egotistical." Jason looked defensive.

"Don't tease him, Honey -- he admitted it," Nadine advised. "Sometimes you have to give them a little room to wiggle."

"Well," Allison looked reluctant, "I waited MONTHS!"

"He was being chivalrous," Nadine argued.

"There is a lot about chivalry that is stupid."

"All's well that ends well," Nadine said smoothly -- with a look at Allison that said, 'Don't be stupid!'

"Yeah." Allison subsided, putting her cheek in Jason's thigh and kissing the shaft of his still half-erect cock. Jason sighed in relief.



-------

Chapter 3


Kiran, realizing that they had limited time before the next briefing and a meal in the cafeteria, decided to educate himself regarding his harem -- and make no mistake, that's how he thought of them... "So," he asked, settling into a chair with the four of them kneeling before him, "Which of you is still a maiden?"

At least one of them failed to understand. "Master?" Kellie asked obsequiously.

Kiran sneered. "I would not expect YOU to understand. I asked who among you retains her maidenhead -- her virginity. Don't lie, since this is easily detected..."

But Kellie surprised him by glancing around and cautiously raising her hand -- as did Isobel. Amita and Sharmila did not.

Kiran was surprised. "Show me -- both of you! Turn around -- on your hands and knees. Spread your legs..." They weren't lying, either of them; the little rubbery dam of membrane was present in both -- most obviously in Kellie, actually. In some ways, it shouldn't have been a surprise, since she hadn't found her social equal to offer an alliance to -- or she thought she hadn't, anyway. But to Kiran, for whom 'blonde' and 'slut' were synonymous, it was a vast surprise. "Resume your positions," he directed, reseating himself. "So," his eyes swept the group, "the least of my possessions has provided me with a pleasant surprise -- and those who stand above her an unpleasant one." Amita and Sharmila withered visibly under his glare. "How is it that you have not debauched yourself?" he asked Kellie.

"With who?" Kellie asked. "Just any boy? Daddy would FREAK! I mean, REALLY!"

Kiran was unable to cover his amusement. "And now?"

Kellie licked her lips; fear made her cautious. "Things have ... changed. I don't expect to have it much longer."

"You would be correct in any case," Kiran grunted. "My friend Sanket does not value virginity -- he had his woman give hers to strangers and old men. Perhaps I will vend yours to some deserving crewman for a favor of some type. What do you think of that?"

But an understanding of her position had finally been pounded into Kellie; she dropped her eyes. "You will do as you please -- and I will do what I have to do to please you."

Kiran steepled his fingers and gazed at her, eyes hooded. "Could it be that you learn that quickly?"

Kellie, who hadn't raised her eyes, replied softly, "I'm trying ... Master."

Kiran grunted, but he was impressed. "Isobel, how is it that you are still a maiden?"

"I'm a good Catholic girl ... Master."

"Religion doesn't always seem to be effective," Kiran replied, sweeping a glare over Amita and Sharmila. "Neither does morality."

Sharmila held her peace, but Amita erupted angrily, "Master has never had sex? And those girls are -- what? -- eighteen?"

"So, age has reduced your value?" Kiran said quietly, eyeing his manicure. "Interesting."

"Of course!" Amita retorted hotly. "In India our families would have arranged something for us by now! In America, things work differently ... We are forced to..."

"Amita!" Sharmila hissed. "Be silent! You are not helping us! Master, she does not speak for me!" Sharmila was twenty-seven, and Amita was twenty-four -- and indeed, things WERE different in America -- but that wasn't going to be an excuse at this point.

"But she does!" Kiran retorted. "I find her explanation why you are both sluts to be most telling! And I find myself with a pair of young American virgins -- certainly something in short supply -- and a pair of timeworn Americanized Indian sluts who found it necessary to vend their virginity, yet still were unable to find husbands in vaunted America. I begin to understand why Sanket settled for aunties -- what's the difference? I cannot see any reason to hold the pair of you above these two, who are not only unsullied, but have not yet reached their expiration date..."

Sharmila, crestfallen, moaned, "I abase myself!" and tucked her head to the floor.

Kellie shifted her eyes fearfully between Sharmila and Kiran. Amita had paled, but not flattened herself. Isobel watched Kiran, too -- was this what he wanted?

Kiran eyed the group, his lips pursed, and made a decision. "It won't help, but YOU," he pointed to Amita, "may abase yourself!" Amita, flustered, went flat. Kiran turned his attention to Kellie. "While I continue to believe that you are a selfish, spoiled, empty-headed little fool, you HAVE improved your position with me. If you continue to adapt, you may actually find favor." He turned his attention to Isobel, "Placing the four of you in some order of precedence seems to be premature -- but you have offended my sensibilities the least. That may be blind luck -- we shall see. As for virginity -- I value it. If you do not anger me, I will take yours, with what I consider suitable ceremony. If I should offer it to someone else, obviously that would be an indication of disfavor..."

"Yes, Master." Isobel might not know all of the rules, but this one was clear. Fear and respect were paramount; step out of line and expect to get handed your head ... The situation wasn't THAT unfamiliar to her; Papa had tended to rule with an iron hand if you got out of line, even though he was usually a benevolent despot. Thinking of Papa reminded Isobel -- Mama hadn't...

-------

Elsewhere, the heat of the moment having relented somewhat, Inez came to the realization, too. Wringing her hands, she approached Sanket, who had collapsed in a chair. "Sir? I have made a mistake, perhaps..."

"Yes?" Sanket replied wearily. This whole multiple woman thing ... Now he had Rachana -- but he also had Anne, and Donna -- and this one, for whom there was NO real justification...

"My husband..."

"I don't think you have one," Sanket replied. Looking up at the ceiling, he asked, "Right?"

"Correct," the AI replied. "The marriage is dissolved."

"If I went back..." Inez pled.

"That is not an available option."

"If I allowed it?" Sanket asked gently, knowing the answer.

"You may dispose of her, but she will not be returned to Earth," the AI insisted.

"I should tell Manuel," Inez husked.

"He will receive notification," the AI said flatly. "It has already been dispatched."

Sanket pursed his lips. "Is there anything more ... personal?"

"This is not generally considered good for the stability of the sponsor's new family," the AI replied, "but it is your option. Former spouses have been known to become angry and attempt violence against the Confederacy. This usually ends in their death -- and mental anguish for the concubine. Direct communication is usually allowed upon arrival at the colony, as the family has usually stabilized by then."

"It would be better if I told him," Inez said softly.

"You must take care to present things positively," Sanket told her.

"Yes," Inez nodded.

"I will allow it," Sanket announced. "Perhaps for the others, depending upon how things go." He glanced around, but none of the others seemed to care.

"Does this person possess a cellular communications device?" the AI asked.

"A cell phone? Yes..."

"Please provide the number..." Inez did so. "It is ringing," the AI announced.

"Hello?" The sound appeared from the air around them, just as the AI's voice did, without an apparent source.

"Manuel?"

"Inez?"

"Yes." Inez sobered. "My husband, I have news."

Manuel became cautious. "What kind of news?"

"There was a pickup..."

"Pickup? One of those Confederacy things?"

"Yes." Inez gathered herself. "Isobel presented herself. I could not dissuade her."

"I see." On the ground, Manuel sighed. He would never see his daughter again -- but she was at least safe; he would have some legacy. Neither he nor his sons were going anywhere... "Was she taken, then?"

"Yes."

"Well, she is at least safe."

"Yes." Inez sucked in a breath. "My husband, that is not all."

"No?" Dread filled the man's voice.

"I was foolish. I feared for her. In the heat of the moment..."

"You presented yourself? You were taken?"

"Yes. My husband, I never meant to leave you! I was just so fearful! Terrible things were going on -- I feared for Isobel too much -- all I could think about at the time was protecting her!" Inez wailed.

"You are gone, too," Manuel husked in a dead voice.

The AI cut things off momentarily. "This does not appear to be helpful."

"I agree," Sanket declared. "Inez..."

Inez got a grip. "I will fix it now! Please!"

Sanket considered. "All right."

Meanwhile, Manuel was saying, "Hello? Hello?"

"I am back," Inez gathered herself. "I am sorry, Husband. I let my fear for Isobel rule me."

"She is well?"

Sanket raised a finger. "Yes," Inez replied. "She is well. I am well, also. Go to my sister Marta, my husband. I am told our marriage holds no force where I am, and I must bind myself to another -- therefore you should, too. We are safe, and I love you, but it will be some time before we can speak again."

"Your sister is not you, my wife."

"No, but she needs your help -- and you cannot help me. Give to her what you would give to me." Inez's sister was widowed and already somewhat on the family dole. "She owes you already, my husband. Tell her to ... comfort you, as I cannot."

Manuel snorted. "I do not foresee THAT happening!"

"Tell her I said it is her duty. She will bend. She has always been ... interested."

Manuel grunted. "And you? Will you move on?"

"I must, my husband -- I have no choice. My decision, foolish as it was, is irrevocable. Do not think ill of me, but I will be young again, and have more children, and watch over the children of others."

"So the rumors are true? You are in a harem?"

"Yes."

"This man who took you -- is he a good man?" Manuel asked.

"He took me so that I could watch over my daughter -- could he be anything but?"

"I guess not." Manuel paused for a bit. "I will speak to the priest about this, but..."

Inez actually became mildly irritated. "My husband, there is sin and there is sin. Even if we remain married in the eyes of God, we can no longer be together -- and I MUST cleave unto another! If the Church cannot deal with that, remind them that it is the only way I can be fruitful and multiply and provide God with soldiers for the coming battle!"

Manuel actually sounded eased. "THERE speaks my wife!"

Inez smiled. "You always needed my help to see the way, my husband! In the eyes of the law, we are parted -- perhaps not divorced, but annulled. God has found other uses for both of us. I love you no less, but we must do what we must do."

"Well ... Your sister?"

"You always liked her breasts."

"Inez!"

"You think I didn't know? You think SHE doesn't? She will show them to you -- if you present my wishes correctly," Inez declared.

"I may have to wait for you to do so," Manuel replied. "I am not gifted with words."

"Take your time -- you may not have to say anything. If by the time we can speak again, she has not bent to your will, I will speak to her -- but I won't have to," Inez insisted. "I must go."

"I wish you well ... Inez." 'Wife' didn't fit any more, did it?

"I wish you well. Harbor no anger against those I have gone with -- it was my own fault."

"I do not," Manuel sighed. "At least you are both safe. Take care of our daughter."

"I will do what I can. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

After a short pause, the AI opined, "The situation appears to have improved. Vocal stress levels indicated acceptance of the situation."

"I thank you," Inez said to Sanket. "This was my mistake -- but my husband must live with it. A note saying we had been picked up would not have given him direction -- I needed to do that."

Sanket shrugged. "I am sorry that you feel that you made a mistake."

Inez shrugged. "I did what I thought best at the time. Whether it will help Isobel -- whether she even NEEDS my help -- only time will tell. YOU need my help and THEY need my help..." She pointed at Anne and Donna and Rachana, then shrugged and asserted, "It is a time to look to the future, not the past." She looked Sanket in the eye. "I will bear you strong sons and beautiful daughters -- and I will help these others who have never known motherhood. I know all about procreation; when you've made me comely again, I'll show you all about it!"

Sanket found himself moved to laugh. "I am sure you will!"

-------

There was a transporter nexus two blocks from the Happy Days Nursery School -- a CAP testing station. Getting a vehicle proved to be less than difficult, too. Nothing unusual was really visible until they got out of the car in the parking lot of the school. Mickey was in her shift, though, and it barely covered the subject -- and Pete and Rick carried sidearms.

Little Lisa was there in the atrium, surrounded by twittering teachers. "Mommy!" She let go of the woman holding her hand and dashed to Mickey, who knelt to take her in.

Mrs. McPherson stepped up. "I gathered some crayons and a couple of reading books and such and put them in her backpack."

"Thank you."

"How ... is it?"

"Ummm ... Too early to tell, actually," Mickey related. "Not a place for a career woman -- soccer moms wanted, I think. Moms, anyway."

Mrs. McPherson looked wistful. "I'd like to do that again..."

Rick eyed her and decided to be blunt. "Are you still fertile?"

Mrs. McPherson looked offended. "Yes!"

Rick shrugged. "We're not done around here. You'll end up short a husband..."

"I'm no longer married," Ms. McPherson related. "We find it's simpler for the young ones if we don't get into confusing marital situations with them."

Rick eyed her. "Well this isn't marital bliss -- it's more like going to a party and getting drunk and waking up with your knees up and some guy you've never seen before getting you pregnant."

Ms. McPherson frowned. "You DO have a way of expressing yourself..."

"Okay, so, I'm goading you. You look stuffy. I'm not lying. It's luck of the draw." He turned to Mickey, "How fast did you end up naked?"

"Pretty fast." Mickey looked up from her daughter to reply quickly.

Rick assumed an 'I told you so, ' expression. "Time to go. I'm sure you hang out in places where smart people go. Dress for success." He took the trail position as they departed so he could grin evilly at Ms. McPherson.

"Christ, Rick! Do you HAVE to play with them?" Pete grunted as they pulled out of the parking lot.

"The stuffy ones put me over into the dark side," Rick grunted. Turning to Mickey, he asked, "Do you have her cell or something?"

Mickey eyed him cautiously. "Why?"

"Maybe we'll tell her where we're jumping in next," Rick told her. "If she gets picked up, she'll owe me."

"Won't she have a sponsor?"

"I'm sure he'll be reasonable."

"I'm not sure you're a nice man," Mickey said cautiously, eyeing Lisa significantly.

"Well, I don't bite or anything," Rick replied, "but my concubines are several light years from here, you know? We get a lot of exposure, regularly -- and every once in a while ... You understand. Besides, if one takes, it's good for genetic diversity."

Mickey wrinkled her nose. "I understand, I guess -- but it seems rather callous."

Rick laughed. "Honey, you haven't SEEN callous -- trust me!" He shook his head. "She wants to go, right? So what's she willing to pay? What did YOU pay?"

Mickey sighed. Put like that... "Whatever."

"We're coming up on the school," Pete announced. "Wait here in the car. Hold this."

"What is it?" Mickey asked.

"A holographic camera. In the unlikely event that they give me a hassle -- and I've been here before -- they can see you." He frowned and turned to Rick. "Isn't one of that Jolene's kids in school here?"

"Call her sponsor," Rick told the AI.

"This is Mike Fisher." They were standing in a corridor when the PDA Mike was carrying beeped and announced that he had a call.

"Ask Jolene if her kid is in Dylan Thomas Elementary."

Mike blinked. "Jolene?"

"Yeah. Tyrone is in second grade," Jolene grunted. "You gonna get him?"

"Yeah. We'll be back to get you for the other two."

"Cool. Thanks!"

"No sweat." Rick rolled his eyes. Pete nodded and got out of the car.

In a couple of minutes, the car's speakers lit up, "Miz Rawlins?"

"Yes?"

"Wave your hand or something so I know this isn't a recording, Ma'am. This is Mr. Purvis, the principal."

"Oh, hi, Mr. Purvis." Mickey waved. "Is that okay?"

"Just fine, Ma'am. You're withdrawing Petra, I understand."

"Yes, Sir."

"I understand that we'll be losing young Tyrone Wallace. Are you familiar with her mother, Jolene?"

"Um, well, I met her today, Sir."

"Could you describe her?"

"She's black and kind of mouthy. Do you need anything more in the way of a physical description?"

"Ummm, please?"

"She's kind of big in the chest, but droopy. I don't suppose you're aware that she wears nipple rings..."

"Ahem, thank you very much, Miz Rawlins. Actually, I WAS aware -- Miz Wallace tends to come to PTA meetings braless -- I think it's to scare people," Mr. Purvis chuckled.

"She's an attention-getter, all right..." Mickey laughed. "Well, you won't have to worry about her disrupting the PTA."

"I guess not. Thank you, Miz Rawlins. Um, does your husband know?"

"No."

"We're recording this for legal reasons..."

"Oh. I see ... I'm sorry, Honey. I had to make a call, and the safety of the girls is paramount. Take care of yourself, and I'll call you if I can -- but I'm afraid we're divorced or something." Mickey shut up; she really couldn't think of anything else to say. 'I love you' seemed stupid...

"We have it."

"Thank you, Mr. Purvis."

"You're welcome, Ma'am. Good luck!" Background sounds stopped and Pete came out of the building with a nervous-looking Petra and a truculent- looking Tyrone (naturally).

Mickey turned to Rick. "Can I?" She pantomimed rolling down the window.

"Sure."

Mickey hit the button and leaned out. "Petra! Come on, Honey! It's okay!" After that, Pete only had Tyrone to contend with -- which was enough; Rick nearly used a stinger on him. The car, a two-door, was crowded; Lisa sat on her mother's lap, with Petra in the center and Tyrone on the right. Picking up the Gregory boy was flatly impossible, so they returned to the CPA testing site and transported out; coming through the transporter was the first thing that awed Tyrone enough to shut him up -- until he saw his mother.

"Mama! You're bare nekkid!" he howled, dashing over to her.

"Yeah, well..."

"What the fuck's goin' on?"

"Watch your mouth, Boy!"

"Sorry."

Jolene rubbed her son's head. "We're movin', Boy. Things have changed. We got a new place."

Tyrone eyed his mother. "You didn't pay the rent again?"

"No, that isn't it. I just..." She looked to Mike for inspiration, "um, got a new boyfriend."

"Oh." The look on Tyrone's face was long-suffering. "Where is he?"

"That's him." Jolene pointed out Mike.

"A white dude? Shit. How'm I gonna explain THAT at school?" Tyrone looked disgusted.

"You won't have to, Boy." Jolene stood there rubbing her face and wondering how it was all going to work out.

Pete turned to a crewman. "What's the word on siting for the other pickups?"

"We've got drones in place at both locations," the crewman assured him.

"Okay, Gregory first," Pete directed. "Get her a shift while we're gone, willya?" he added, pointing at Jolene.

"Right," The crewman nodded. "You're set to transport."

"Let's go." Pete nodded Mickey into the field, then followed; Rick took up the rear.

They were in a back yard; the neighborhood looked quiet. A dog went absolutely nuts two doors over on detecting them. Pete led the way to the back door of the house and rapped on it.

It took a minute or so for someone to answer; when it happened, a harried-looking man came to the back door, took one look, and opened up. "You'd be Mickey -- and I can see who they are ... I was expecting you at the front."

"This is less conspicuous," Pete replied.

"Yeah..."

"Look, Mr. ah, Gregory -- we're playing this by ear. Nobody we know of has ever done a legal guardianship," Pete told him. "We need to be really sure about this. Where is your wife?"

"She hasn't come home. I don't think she wants to," David related. "It would just be stressful, you know?"

Pete grimaced. "I see."

"I got something from her at the restaurant," Mickey told Pete. "Mitch has it."

Pete flashed a look at Rick, but the AI piped up, "A handwritten document signed by one Bettina Gregory has been produced and recorded in Mitchell Francke's case file."

"Okay." Pete shrugged. "What do YOU think of this?"

"I ... It will help Tyler, and it will help Betty -- and it will help me. "I'll miss him, but I can't care for him ... Will I be able to see him?"

"We do hyperwave video from established sites," Rick replied. "Physically, you'd have to appeal to the eye of a female sponsor and get VERY lucky, but on video, yes."

"One day he'll need to know why..." David's eyes pled.

"I'll do my best," Mickey assured him.

"Let's see the document," Pete pressed. "We are very short on time."

David had produced something very official-looking with a word processor -- and had gotten it notarized. "A lawyer was impossible on short notice, but I got this off the web -- and oddly enough, you apparently don't NEED a lawyer..."

Pete eyed the paper. "I'm sold. Let's get him." Two minutes later, Mickey was holding her newest dependent -- a blue-eyed dark-haired smiling toddler.

"I don't know how to thank you," David gushed.

"Take care of Betty," Mickey replied. "I have -- had -- a husband named Brett -- he's in the book. Tell him..." She bit her lip. "Tell him anything that looks like it'll make him feel better, okay?"

"Sure." David patted her on the shoulder. Ninety seconds later, they were on the Catch-22.

"How do you get used to that?" Mickey asked, referring to transport. "Here, there, somewhere else..."

"Familiarity breeds contempt," Pete grunted. "Take them home," he directed Mitch, then turned to Jolene, who was wearing a shift. "Let's go."

-------

Maisy Whitehead was standing at the sink when little Nishelle pranced in and announced, "Granma! Mama just came home with two guys in prison clothes!"

"Aww, SHIT!" Maisy grabbed a dish towel and headed for the living room. There stood Jolene -- but it looked like SHE was in prison clothes, not the men she was with; they looked military... "What's she done this time -- and what's it gonna cost me?" Maisy groused.

Rick snorted. Pete managed not to grin while he announced, "It's not like that, Ma'am. Your daughter has been selected as a concubine and is emigrating to the colonies. We're here to pick up the children."

"She WHAT? You don't know nobody they'd want on them colonies, girl! What the Hell kinda fool would pick YOU to take somewhere like that?"

"Well, a stranger..." Jolene got out.

"No shit!" Maisy peered at Pete and Rick over her eyeglasses. "One o' you?"

"No, Ma'am," Pete answered. "We, uh, need to move on, here. You should give the kids a hug -- I'm afraid it's the last time you're going to see them in the flesh."

"This is a mistake," Maisy countered. "Y'all don't want to do this."

"It's done, Ma'am. We're just picking up the pieces," Rick said carefully.

"Well, understand, now -- I'm all for it -- but Jolene and marriage..." Maisy had taken note of Rick's stance.

"It isn't marriage, Mama -- more like he owns me," Jolene offered.

"Well, that might give him a leg up," Maisy opined. "If he beats the shit out of you a couple of times..." She eyed the Marines over her glasses. "Is that allowed?"

"Yes it is, Ma'am," Pete replied.

"You tell whoever this man is that I said don't spare the rod!" Maisy turned toward the kitchen. "I'll get Broaddus out of his high chair."

"Not exactly a glowing recommendation," Rick muttered to Jolene.

"She's just getting' her licks in," Jolene replied. "She'll change up. Come here, Nishelle." She held out her arms to her daughter.

"Is that really prison clothes?" Nishelle wanted to know.

"No, not really, Hon."

Maisy was a lot more subdued when she came back out of the kitchen with Broaddus straddling her wide hip. "They gonna be all right?" she asked Pete.

"That's the plan, Ma'am," Pete nodded.

Maisy handed Broaddus to her daughter and then hugged her. "You behave yourself. Y'all got telephones?"

"Yes, Ma'am, but she'll be out of range for a few weeks while in transit," Rick related.

"Who do I ask for?" Maisy asked while squatting to cuddle Nishelle. "Say goodbye to Granma, Honey." She looked back up. "What's this man's name?"

"Mike Fisher, Ma'am," Pete replied.

Maisy blinked suspiciously. "Don't sound black..."

Jolene coughed. "He, uh, isn't, Mama. He's white."

"He's WHITE? God help him!" Maisy looked at the ceiling and shook her head. "God help him." She stood and kissed little Broaddus on the cheek and hugged Nishelle to her, then took Jolene in her arms. "For God's sake, behave yourself, child. You've been given this chance -- don't fuck it up!"

"I'll try not to, Mama," Jolene promised solemnly.

"Thank you, Boys, for comin'." Pete found himself being hugged. Rick got out of the way. Maisy pushed Jolene toward the door. "Git, before I start cryin'! You do right by that poor motherfucker, Girl!" Then they were in the hallway and the door was closed behind them.

"Your whole family..." Pete shook his head.

"Yeah, I know." Jolene dashed the tears from her cheeks and took Nishelle's hand. "Let's go."

-------

In orbit, Tyrone and Mike were staring out the port at the Earth. "This is cool..." Tyrone mused. "Hey, I didn't mean nothin'..."

"I figured," Mike replied, pretending to be distracted. "If you had to hold your head up where you come from, it could have been a problem. Where we're going, though..."

"Where ARE we going?"

"You know, I don't know," Mike muttered. "I really don't know. All I know is it will be a new place -- for all of us."

"Are you gonna do the Dad thing?" Tyrone asked.

"We'll see. I don't know anything about it."

Tyrone snorted. "Neither did the last couple of guys."

Mike eyed him. "How old are you, really? Forty?"

"I'm nine."

"Seen a lot, though, huh?"

"Yeah, some." Tyrone eyed Mike. "You don't look like the type that can handle Mama when she starts yelling."

"So I hear," Mike sighed. "There are going to be different rules. I'm not gonna let your Mama yell."

"How you gonna stop it?"

"I don't know yet."

Tyrone just looked at Mike and shook his head.

-------

Jolene was subdued when she arrived. "I'm sorry you didn't get to say goodbye to your granma, Boy."

Tyrone blinked. "Is she okay?"

Jolene nodded. "She's okay."

"She was fine this morning."

"Yeah." Jolene looked like she was going to cry.

Pete pointed up the hallway. "Get settled in. Dinner in three hours in the cafeteria."

"Let's go." Mike waved Tyrone ahead of him. "Here, you want to carry this? Make sure we go where the arrow points..."

"Cool!" Tyrone took control of the PDA and led them off, Jolene carrying Broaddus on a hip and leading Nishelle by the hand.

"I think we should have warned him," Rick opined.

"Nothing beats learning it yourself," Pete argued.

"About the McPherson chick..."

"Rick, she's forty, or damned near -- why her?"

"I like doing the uptight ones..."

"You're bad, Man. Bad." They headed off to prepare things for the gathering in the cafeteria.



-------

Chapter 4


Phyllis Parker and June Thatcher were sitting in a bedroom in Elliott Bradley's pod; he was in the main room, just sitting, apparently. "This is godawful!" Phyllis opined. "Did you see what went on at the pickup? Then those bullies started talking all that trash about slavery and death -- they're just trying to scare us into submission..."

"It's working!" June replied. "I'm scared to death!"

"They can't actually DO any of that stuff!" Phyllis asserted. "It's uncivilized!"

"I guess that depends upon the civilization," June muttered. "The Romans did it."

"We're not Romans."

"This isn't America, Phyllis."

"Maybe not, but..." Phyllis sniffed. "Elliott won't ask us to do any of that."

"I don't think he has a choice, Phyllis. We're here to have children..."

"I'm too old to have children," Phyllis asserted. "I can't!"

"I don't think I'd go telling anyone that," June opined.

"They can't do a thing about it!" Phyllis insisted. "No one can MAKE me have children!" Phyllis shuddered; the whole idea was anathema to her! When she was young, love and sex held some interest -- but love had passed her by, and sex -- the few forays she'd had into THAT had been HORRIBLE! No, no children for Phyllis! "Elliott is a dear -- he'll take care of us. I'll talk to him -- he'll see sense." Elliott was so malleable ... If she'd ever wanted a husband, Phyllis was certain she could have talked Elliott into it. He was so reasonable...

June eyed Phyllis, worried. They weren't friends, really -- Phyllis was a little too strange. Elliott should have been the department head, but Phyllis had seniority, and despite the fact that Elliott made almost every breakthrough in the lab, Phyllis managed to convince herself -- and everyone else -- that she was instrumental. And since Elliott didn't seem to care, it didn't matter -- except to June...

June was the departmental secretary, responsible both for the transcription of Elliot's crisp research notes and Phyllis' rambling memos of self-congratulation. She understood what was going on; clearly, Elliott had no interest in management. He wanted his research, and funding, and to be left alone. June was perfectly happy to help him with everything but the last part...

"Why are you here, anyway?" Phyllis asked suddenly. "Surely you have no ambitions where the colonies are concerned..."

"Why are YOU here?" June asked, as if she didn't know.

"Elliott was going, and he has no ambition AT ALL," Phyllis replied. "Since I'm his ambition, I figured I should come. He'll need someone to watch over his career..."

June sighed.

Elliott was out sitting in the main room, thinking furiously. Why on Earth -- or off Earth, for that matter -- had he selected those two? Why not some young chippie who would get his blood pumping and provide him with an opportunity to do something other than self-manipulation? But Phyllis had invited herself along, making it sound as if he couldn't POSSIBLY do without her -- and June had just felt right...

He couldn't imagine sleeping with either of them -- well, certainly not Phyllis! But apparently, that's what he'd signed on to do -- and what they'd signed on for, too. Elliott wondered what June thought of that -- June, who regularly provided the distraction of low-cut blouses ... Actually, he COULD imagine sleeping with June, vaguely -- the vague part largely because he got sex so seldom that it wasn't really a memory. No, he could have sex with June -- he was even comfortable with the idea, as much as performance anxiety allowed -- but June would probably be aghast at the idea...

Neither of the women was prime stuff; both were a little heavy and a little dumpy and dressed generally like the spinsters they were. June was older at forty -- but Phyllis, who was thirty-seven, presented herself as being forty-five, at least. Elliott smiled remembering a recent period after colonization began when June's blouses had become more and more daring -- until Phyllis had upbraided her over it. That couple of weeks, though ... Elliott had barely been able to work; he'd been so over-stimulated from the numerous peeks June had allowed at her décolletage that serious thought had been difficult.

Elliott's PDA pinged; time for the meal in the cafeteria. Sighing, he rose and called out, "Ladies? Dinner!" He watched the pair come through the door from the room they'd retired to. The shifts -- and no underclothing -- provided him with a strange mix of excitement and disappointment; they were enough like a nightgown to spark the imagination, but they revealed the deficiencies of the wearer. Elliott was somewhat amazed at how flat-chested Phyllis was; she'd obviously been augmenting herself in some manner, since what she had under the shift was visible, certainly, but nowhere near the size hinted by the serious brassieres she'd worn under her high-necked blouses at work. June, on the other hand, had real breasts -- but they weren't the perky things you saw in pictures of young models; there was considerable sag. Still, seeing her nipples poke the thin material of the shift was arousing -- were they getting longer? Elliott dragged his eyes away, looking Phyllis in the eye rather than June -- and Phyllis was openly disgusted with him.

"Must you ogle?" Phyllis snarled.

"This way." Elliott waved toward the door.

The cafeteria had the usual roar to it -- but that was probably the only familiar thing about it. The vast majority of the males were fully dressed -- but over sixty percent of the female adults were nude, and most of the rest were in shifts. Kids were treating the whole thing as some amazing game and were flitting about, engaged in horseplay. The whole scene was a blow to Phyllis -- and an offense to her sensibilities. She put her head down and stumped her way to the food line, leaving Elliott and June to follow her lead. Getting her food, she picked a table where she could face away from the majority of the room -- there was no need to expose herself to the shame of so many others any more than she had to. The table seated eight, though, and Elliott and June only made three...

Sandrine Knopf came by, carrying her tray, and asked, "May we sit here?" Elliott assented gratefully, thinking, 'Hers is a well-integrated group -- that will calm Phyllis down... '

He couldn't have been more wrong. In the first place, there was the Knopf woman, who sat there all self-satisfied -- and fully dressed -- looking down on everyone. Then there were the children -- two of them -- and Phyllis really couldn't abide children, even quiet ones. Then there was the concubine, Barbara, who sat there, flaunting her nakedness while pretending that it was all an everyday occurrence ... But the worst -- THE ABSOLUTE WORST! -- was the man, Bradley, running around, flaunting his erection while he collected high chairs for the children and seated and settled them -- pretending to be casual while he waved his offensive nakedness in her face! Phyllis slowly reached the point where she was floating beside herself, seeing the world through a red haze ... Then Bradley sat down beside the Knopf woman, who smiled a self-satisfied smile and very obviously reached into his lap...

"That does it!" Phyllis rasped, banging her knife and fork on the table. "I'm NOT putting up with this! I'm NOT going to sit here and watch people flaunt their nakedness and fondle one another in public and I'm NOT going to eat and pretend this insane gathering is normal for ANYONE and I'M NOT GOING TO BE ANYONE's BROOD MARE AND I'm NOT HAVING SEX WITH ANYONE, EVER!!!!!!" Screaming, Phyllis threw herself back from the table, brandishing her knife and fork and crouched, searching for threats, her expression feral.

ZAP! There was a flash and Phyllis fell backward, boneless. A crewman came forward cautiously and fetched Phyllis a kick. "She's yours?" the crewman asked Elliott.

"Yes," Elliott agreed, "Very embarrassing."

"Worse than that, I'm thinking," Pete murmured, coming up. "She's cracked. Did you actually look at her CAP card when you picked her up?"

"Well, no," Elliott admitted.

"Display," Pete muttered, waving -- and Phyllis' CAP scores displayed on Elliott's PDA. "She's not ideal, by ANY stretch -- basically, she lives in a fantasy world that matches reality only here and there. I'm thinking that the real world just cracked the glass..."

"Oh, my!" Elliott wheezed. Phyllis was border-line insane under normal conditions -- and under these ... He turned to look down at her unconscious form.

"This being is a danger to herself and others," the AI announced. "The preceding episode was not just anger -- it was full psychosis. She will not recover without extensive treatment -- and she will always be a threat. She is unsalvageable."

"What do I do?" Elliott asked.

"Give her to us, for disposal. I told you you'd probably screwed up. This is the real world Doc. We can't carry any dead weight -- it isn't fair to those who deserve to live," Pete replied, waving a couple of crewmen forward. "Recycle," he told them, then he turned on June. "What about this one? Want to cut your losses while you're ahead? We'll take you on a drop for replacements..."

"Corporal..." the AI interjected.

Pete stopped, frowning. "What?"

"The situation with the other concubine differs markedly. Observe." The AI displayed June's scores on Elliott's PDA.

Pete eyed them -- they were a vast improvement over Phyllis'. "Oh. Okay, Doc -- your call."

"There is an additional factor," the AI added. "Doctor, the subject exhibits marked changes in physiology in your presence. These changes are indicative of what you would call an emotional attachment."

Elliott whirled on June, who suddenly found something of interest on the floor, apparently. "WHAT? Show me!"

"These are what we consider to be the one called June's norms," the AI reported, displaying various biological results, "and these occur in your presence. Note the fact that they increase with proximity. Pheromone output..."

"Yes, yes!" Elliott waved it off. "June?"

"Yes, Elliott?"

"This data..."

"Yes, Elliott."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"It would have scared you off," June muttered.

"Eh," Pete licked his lower lip. "Forget I said anything. We can still get you a second..."

Elliott ignored him. "What about children?"

"I'm fine with that," June replied, artificially calm.

Elliott looked around; they were the center of attention. An acid test suggested itself... "I'm told that I need to be in charge," he told June. "Show me your breasts."

June threw the shift over her head without hesitation. "I'm sorry they're not prettier, Elliott, but you used to like them before I had all this competition."

"Yes..." Elliott eyed them. They weren't huge, but they were good- sized -- and definitely natural -- and arousing. Given the selection in the room, why was that?

June wiggled her shoulders -- and giggled at the result as Elliott's eyes tracked the sway. "I always wanted to do that."

"Well, you own 'em, Doc -- why don't you play with 'em?" Pete interjected. "I guess we're good to go for now." People started returning their attention to other concerns. That left Elliott and June in their own little world as Elliott gently palmed June's breasts. He spent a number of seconds like trhat, then looked up at Pete. "What will happen to Phyllis?"

It already HAD happened, doubtless -- the two crewmen on watch in the cafeteria had returned. But Elliott was one of those anomalies ... He was a genius, but he had a low CAP score because he was constitutionally unable to hurt a fly. Phyllis' fate was ultimately Phyllis' fault -- but Elliott wouldn't see it that way. "We've taken custody of her, Doc," he advised him. "She's not your problem any more. We'll take care of her." Of course, taking care of her was breaking her down into her component molecules, but the longer Elliott didn't know that, the better...

Elliott probably DID know, if he took it out and examined it -- but he wouldn't unless he had to. June's face said she'd heard enough to at least guess -- and that she didn't want Elliott thinking about it, either. "Elliott," she said softly, leaning forward, "when can we have sex?"

It worked -- she had his complete attention. Elliott cleared a dry throat and told Pete, "Suddenly, I'm not hungry."

Pete grinned. "You don't have time to go back to your pod -- we've got three hours worth of briefings to do starting in twenty minutes. Come on, you can do her next door -- if someone walks in on you it'll just add to the excitement." Next door was a small cabin with a couch and a couple of chairs in it; Pete got out of there while Elliott was getting out of his clothing; if he wanted to watch sex, there were several porn flick class chicks available -- including Maureen... "Don't get lost -- we start in twenty minutes!"

Elliottt and June weren't seeing or hearing anything but each other.

Was it good, viewed objectively? Are you kidding? It lasted about eight seconds from penetration to ejaculation! Elliot spent ten times longer just lying atop June, buried inside her, while his cock deflated -- and that didn't take long, either.

Emotionally, on the other hand ... Emotionally, it was a watershed event for both of them -- a culmination of something that hadn't looked possible. It was joy and exploration and pleasure and comfort -- and love, expressed. By the time Elliott struggled up off June, they were both forever changed. June frankly didn't remember being penetrated, but she had an embarrassing flood of semen running down her thigh the moment she stood -- and it pleased her. Elliott had marked his territory.

Elliott was looking at having to pull his pants up over a gooey cock -- and not looking forward to the prospect. "Do you see anything... ?"

"What?"

"I need to clean up."

"Oh!"

Elliott could not have been more surprised; June settled to her knees and sucked his cock into her mouth! It swelled again, immediately; the sensations were incredible! June backed off and husked, "I've always wanted to do that..." She smiled up at him. "You like?"

"Yes..." Elliott panted. This episode, as poorly as he'd performed, exceeded imagination! In his lifetime, he'd gotten maybe a half-dozen blowjobs -- all from tired hookers who had mouthed his cock for half a minute through a rubber while he worried about disease and the police and being mugged by pimps -- and if he let them finish, he ended up having to pay a second charge to masturbate himself in their vaginas because he flooded the rubber while they sucked. A hooker's job was to get her john off as fast as possible -- and with a minimum of effort; if she could get him to blow his wad while sucking, she didn't have to get out of her pantyhose or clean up her pussy. For the class of hooker Elliott had managed to stumble onto, what the john got out of it was irrelevant -- she'd earned her money when he shot off, however it was handled. If he wanted to shoot again, she got paid again -- a simple, cut and dried transaction.

This was totally different. In the first place, they'd already had sex, and as poor a showing as it was, it was probably the best Elliott had ever had. In the second, there was no rubber to attenuate things -- and the sensations were incredible! In the third, while June was by no means expert, she was also obviously in no hurry ... Elliot slid his hand into the graying brown hair at the nape of her neck and gasped and shuddered as she suckled him, not forcing anything, just enjoying the feel of her hair.

This was all new ground for June -- she'd never sucked a cock in her life! It was so deliciously naughty -- not to mention strange and different! It started out soft and gooey, and she hadn't known what to expect as far as taste was concerned -- but it had been fine, and then his cock had ballooned in size and gotten hard ... June was flushed with pride of accomplishment; she'd made him erect! He considered her sexy! It was all just grand! Her pussy itched, but she would suck him all day if that was what he wanted...

Ultimately, it wasn't. The sensations were incredible, but June made just enough mistakes to keep him from toppling over the brink. The urge to bury himself in her grew in him until it was undeniable. "I want to ... do it..." he croaked.

June backed off. "How?"

"I don't know. Like last time?"

"Umm..." That hadn't lasted so long, and June needed to orgasm, now, if she could. "How about if I bend over the couch arm?"

"Okay."

Elliot helped June up and she assumed the position, presenting Elliot with a view of her sizeable ass, her hairy pussy, and the pooch of her belly between her age-thickened thighs. It was hot to Elliott; when he rubbed his glans against her lips, they split open revealing a wet inner core. Both of them sighed. A little rubbing up and down and he was seated; he pressed and her rippling tunnel welcomed him inside.

This time, blowjob notwithstanding, there was time to enjoy the sensations. Elliott settled into the rhythm that came naturally to even the most inexperienced male and began to experience the pure joy of sex -- without concerns regarding money, or law enforcement or diseases or protection from pregnancy or pimps -- just driving his steel-hard cock into a willing woman. June's urgent grunts were a symphony to his ears...

For June, they were evidence that the anticipated masturbation session would not be required. Four or five strokes in it became apparent that her fingers were in the way of the soft caress of his scrotum as his balls bounced against her clitoris, the soft, loose skin and hair over the sensitive nodes more than replacing urgent fingering with their pattern of gentle impacts. The slide of his flesh through the folds of her tunnel brought an oddly familiar combination of satisfaction and urgent anticipation. 'If he can just keep this up for a minute or so, ' June thought fuzzily.

It wasn't a problem. June didn't say much -- it was just grunts -- but Elliott had no problem reading their tone. Then, suddenly, her thighs started jumping and she wailed, "OMIGOD!" and set up a series of urgent whines while her ass danced -- and Elliott realized that he'd done something he'd never accomplished before -- he'd brought a woman to orgasm! This ... This was the real deal! A tremendous sense of satisfaction flooded him, and he redoubled his efforts. Belatedly, he realized that he'd been selfishly chasing his own satisfaction at the expense of hers -- but he had succeeded anyway, so it was no longer an issue.

Besides, he was already driving June up the slope to her second orgasm, anyway.

-------

"Let's get this herd to the briefing area and get this show on the road," Pete grunted. "Where the Hell is Elliott and that snatch of his?"

"Probably asleep," Rick chuckled.

"Dammit..." Pete headed to the cabin where he'd left the aging couple.

-------

"OMIGOD! HUH! HUH! HUH! HUH! HUH!" Pete walked it to find June staring at the ceiling with glazed eyes while Elliott pounded himself into her like he was driving railroad spikes in concrete. Before Pete could open his mouth, Elliott, teeth clenched, mashed himself against June's ass with a strained grunt and stayed there, obviously blowing his load. In a moment, after an unseen but clearly felt four jets of semen, the starch melted out of Elliott and he draped himself over June's back.

"Wow!" Elliott panted.

"I'm impressed," Pete rasped, "but the after-sex cigarette is gonna have to wait. Get your pants on and drag your woman back to the cafeteria so we can get on with the briefings."

Elliot, who only failed to jump a foot because he was well-anchored and lacked the energy, waved his hand languidly, "Be right there." He rubbed June's shanks a couple of times and backed out of her. "I guess I need another cleanup."

June could barely find the floor; she'd hit her second peak just before Elliott went jack-hammer and flooded her and her legs were weak and would barely carry her. She ended up sitting on the deck while she pulled Elliott's still half-hard length into her mouth. When he was clean from tip to root and his fluff of pubic hair no longer had white drips depending from it, she held out her hands and he pulled her to her feet. "What about me?" she asked.

"Ummm..."

"You get to squish," Pete was back at the door. "Think of it as lubrication. Move!" He shook his head. "I damned sure didn't figure you two to last that long."

"It was twice," Elliott related, half proud and half embarrassed.

"I didn't figure you for THAT, either!" Pete chuckled. "So, how was it?" he asked June.

"I'm so happy..." June's smile was absolutely sunny.

"Well, go get your shift over there," Pete said gruffly.

-------

Pete moved everyone back to Collection Area C and opened up the 'family briefing rooms' off the main room for three hours' worth of general 'this is what you CAN do and this is what you CAN'T, ' interaction with AIs, and general pod functions and capabilities. He stuck Maureen in with Sandrine's group so that he could patrol the area while she obtained her education. They pulled the sponsors out for one thirty minute period on "What you need to know about handling concubines that they don't" that left several of the sponsors thoughtful. While Rick handled Q & A, Pete pulled Elliott aside. "You're short -- we should fix that."

Elliott grimaced. "About Phyllis..."

"That's over with -- there's nothing more to be done."

"It was my responsibility to say no."

"And you didn't know any better and she took advantage of you for her own purposes -- and it backfired. Let it go," Pete advised.

"She's gone, then?"

"Yes." Rick would have rubbed it in, but Pete had seen Elliott's card and knew that it wasn't advisable. Elliott wasn't there to be a grunt; he was a research geek and he was going to a lab where he could do what he did best. In some ways he was a lot more capable of visualizing the consequences of his actions than the average guy -- and he just didn't need the reinforcement. "In any case, we're back to the original issue -- you need another woman. There aren't any spares aboard, but we're still making pickups, so the problem is repairable. The recommended procedure is to let us find you something, since we really don't want to put you back on the surface if we don't absolutely have to."

Elliott pursed his lips. "I won't know the woman."

"That's not unusual -- and in your case, it might be a plus," Pete replied.

"I'm happy with what I have," Elliott announced staunchly.

"I'm sure you are, Doc -- I know you've got true love brewing and all that -- and if you'd like, I'll tell June you fought it tooth and nail -- but we expect you to get children on two women -- period. We need bodies with your genetic heritage," Pete insisted.

"I don't think it would be right to drag in some young thing that I have nothing in common with..."

"So don't. But you need to realize that in three weeks, you'll be physically twenty-five again -- and so will June -- and you can edit her to exceed whatever specifications you care to so she's competitive with whatever else we drag in. That's not an issue," Pete told him. "June's advantage will be between her ears, anyway."

"Hmmm. Yes." Elliott looked up. "How would his be accomplished?"

Pete puffed out a breath. "Well, we record and transmit images while on a pickup -- you could look over our shoulders, so to speak..."

Elliott shuddered. "If it's anything like our pickup, I'd prefer not to be a voyeur."

"You can just rely on us to get something," Pete offered. "There are no guarantees, ever -- even when you do it yourself -- but we can try to work within parameters..."

"I'm sure that's a hardship," Elliott murmured. "I'm obviously not going to be looking for some hot young thing -- but some motherly instinct would probably be a plus. June has no experience..."

"Older women aren't hard to find," Pete mused.

"What about some modicum of intelligence?" Elliott queried. "Expressing oneself can be difficult to those without a vocabulary ... I really would prefer not to have to talk down to someone, as it demeans us both."

"Hmmmm. Yeah." A synapse spat in Pete's brain. "Hang on a moment, Doc. Rick!"

"Yeah?" Rick broke away from the conversation he was having with Elias and came over.

"Doc needs a replacement -- and I was thinking that the McPherson woman might be a good fit..."

Rick nodded. "Yeah." Turning to Elliott, he described her, "Nursery school teacher, fortyish, a little stuffy, done the motherhood thing, but would like a second pass..." His eyes glazed while he held a conversation with the AI, then he pointed to Elliott's PDA. "Looks like that."

Elliott lifted his PDA and eyed it. "Um, yes. Sounds like a good fit. June understands my work; she'll probably be more valuable if she continues to assist..."

"Well, she'll need to do the motherhood thing, too, but no doubt it'll help having someone around who knows what's up and likes kids," Rick opined.

"So, how... ?"

"I'm thinking we might arrange a special -- have her show up somewhere alone and collect her." Rick paused and gave Elliott a look. "I don't want her to think it's a freebie, if you understand what I'm saying."

"I'm afraid I don't..."

Pete sighed. "He got into it with her; Rick has this thing for baiting stuffy women. As a result of the conversation, we know she's interested, but she may not have the right mindset. Rick is going to want to, um, indoctrinate her."

Elliott pursed his lips. "I see. This is physically, I presume."

"You got it, Doc. She needs to pay for the special ticket, and..." Rick replied.

"Corporal Evans has unresolved issues with his mother," the AI broke in.

"Hey!" Rick glared at the ceiling.

Pete snickered and the AI responded, "Corporal Taylor felt that Doctor Bradley might feel more comfortable with the explanation if he understood your motives."

"Pete..." Violence hung in the air for a moment, then Rick laughed. "Okay, I get the joke."

Elliott managed to maintain a serious mien. "Would this be abuse?"

"Technically, there is no such thing, Doc," Rick replied. "I'd prefer to think of it as an attitude adjustment for her and some sexual relief for me. I won't do anything to her that doesn't need doing."

"How much reeducation are we talking about?"

"I was thinking one full pass. Around the world, if you know what I mean."

"Yes." It was hooker-speak -- Elliott knew what it was, even though he'd never done it. "Is that enough, given that you're making her an offer not available to even the general run of applicants?"

"Well, you're taking her on, not me, but we could hang an option on it or something..." Rick mused.

"All right. Frankly, we needn't actually tell her that she'll be off the hook with you after any particular event or timeframe, if it will help keep her under control..." Elliott gave out with a sigh. "With my track record, assistance is warranted, I think."

Rick opened his mouth to rub it in, but Pete shook his head, so he backed off, "Good thinking, Doc."

"When would this be?" Elliott asked.

"Soonest. I'm gonna go get started," Rick told him.

"I'd really prefer to just have June tonight..."

"Not a problem," Rick replied, winking. "I'll soften her up overnight. Sometime tomorrow I'll turn her loose and she'll thank God for you."

"Um, yes..." Elliott couldn't really see THAT happening, but the plan sounded good...

"I'm off, then," Rick waved. "I'll let you know if something goes wrong; otherwise we'll hook you up tomorrow." He headed off.

"He won't hurt her, will he?" Elliott asked Pete.

"Nah. Fuck her silly, maybe. Slap her around a bit -- nothing permanent. He won't deliver any damaged merchandise," Pete assured him.

"All right. Are we done for the evening?"

"Yeah. Pick up June and take her home." Pete waved Elliott off and went to take Rick's place at the center of the sponsor group.

"Hey, Mickey!" Rick stuck his head in the room where Mitch's family was gathered and waved her over. "What are the chances you can find the McPherson woman on the phone?"

"Well, fairly good, if I had my cell -- I had at least one number for her in it..." Mickey mused. "I think it was direct."

"Do you like her? Enough to give her a leg up?" Rick asked.

"Meaning what?"

"We have an opening," Rick replied.

"What? Oh, the crazy woman. What happened to her?"

"She's dead, Honey. She lost it and she crossed the line. Either one was a death sentence. There are too many good people down there for us to haul charity cases and crazies off to the colonies."

"Omigod!" Mickey put a hand to her mouth.

"Look, I know it sounds harsh, Honey, but she was totally unsuitable in the first place but the guy who took her didn't have the stones to tell her no. When she freaked, she went right over the edge under the stress; she'd have had to be institutionalized -- and we don't have any institutions! Now we can ship someone who CAN contribute, you know?"

"Yes," Mickey said faintly.

"I'll get your phone. If Mitch comes back before I do, tell him I asked you to wait." Rick left her standing there wondering if she would be doing poor Ms. McPherson a favor or not!



-------

Chapter 5


Rick was back in less than ten minutes with Mickey's cell. She read off the number and Rick transferred it to a separate device. This time, he merely led her to a small cabin and closed the door before telling the AI to make the connection.

"Hello?" The sound came out of nowhere on the AI channel.

Rick waved at Mickey, who responded, "Ms. McPherson?"

"Yes?"

Rick waved Mickey to silence. "Is this Ms. McPherson, the still fertile nursery school teacher?"

"Who is this?"

"C'mon, I told you enough just now that you know -- we met today," Rick chided.

"You're that Marine!" Ms. McPherson replied, then obviously confused, added, "What do you want?"

"I'm here to make you an offer you can't refuse," Rick replied. "Someone failed the psych exam and we have an open slot from the pickup that netted Ms. Rawlins. We can chase down a replacement the normal way, or I can cut the corner and take you."

"I ... see..." Janine McPherson licked dry lips and held the phone to her ear with a suddenly shaky hand. "What do I have to do?"

"What everyone else does, once things settle down," Rick replied, "but this is a one-time offer under special circumstances, so it comes with a premium."

"W--what kind of premium?"

"I won't be your sponsor," Rick told her, "we're filling a spot for a nice old fud of a research professor -- but I'm scalping the ticket. You're gonna pay me for the privilege."

Janine swallowed, trying to clear her dry throat. "What do you want?"

"Nothing you can't pay," Rick replied with a nasty chuckle, "naked."

"Oh." There didn't seem to be anything else to say but, "Why me?"

"I like loosening up stuffy women," Rick replied.

"What do I do?" Janine asked.

"Nobody else gets time to put their shit in order, so you don't, either," Rick told her. "Go to your closet and find something you can be out of in three seconds flat -- practice, if you have to, because I'll be timing you. Do you have flip-flops?"

"Yes."

"Wearing whatever you've picked out and flip-flops, go down to the corner -- the one with Jackson Street -- and stand there. Be alone. It's nineteen minutes of ten -- you be there at ten. If you're there, and if you show the proper attitude by following my instructions EXACTLY, you won't be going back to your house. Fuck up, though, and it'll be embarrassing."

"What are you going to... ?"

"You know what? It doesn't matter -- because if you get taken, you'll be doing as you're told, anyway, and what you think of as polite society won't have shit to do with it!" Rick cut her off. "This is a one-time deal -- take it or leave it. Eighteen minutes." He killed the connection with a hand signal.

"That was mean," Mickey accused.

"No, it wasn't," Rick argued. "Think about what you and the others did -- or could have done. I've been on pickups where a guy fucked three women and took one. I've been on pickups where sponsors started cat-fights and took the winner -- or the loser. She's getting a good deal here -- and a lot more warning than YOU got -- and she needs to have her nose rubbed in how fortunate she is to even get the offer!"

"Well..." Mickey grimaced.

"Take that Clark woman -- she pulled a train, and her sponsor almost didn't take her!" Rick reminded Mickey. "Anything I do to her on her own probably won't compete with being tested to see that she's airtight by a bunch of construction goons..." He pursed his lips. "What did you have to do for your sponsor? I forget..."

Mickey hung her head. "Not a lot."

"Did he even test-drive you?"

"No."

Rick shook his head. "You need to talk to some of the others, I think, before you decide what's mean. Go on back to your sponsor -- your piece of this is done." He waved her out the door. Mickey left, thoughtful.

-------

Janine McPherson stood looking at her phone, surprised that the offensively rude Marine had hung up on her. He seemed to delight in shocking behavior and comments; rude, crude and socially unacceptable seemed to be descriptive. On the other hand, by all accounts, he was being brutally honest about the whole thing ... It all came down to the question, 'just how badly do I want to go?' The price of admission seemed steep -- but the benefits ... The media had some clips of the aliens -- the Swarm -- laying waste to other aliens with a fine disregard for the idea that they might be sentient beings. They only had people's word for the fact that any of the videos or other reports were real -- but if they weren't what kind of incredible scam could the Confederacy be running?

The clock didn't allow her to stop and think about things; if she did, she would miss the Marine's deadline -- and one thing was certain, he was deadly earnest about her following instructions! All the time she pondered the issue and her response, she was digging through drawers and flipping hangers -- what to wear? A sun dress? At ten p.m.? What made sense? She had a wraparound skirt somewhere ... Three seconds ... A look at her wristwatch left her frenzied -- it was ten minutes of ten already! Flip-flops -- where had she put them? There had to be something she could throw on -- and, apparently, throw off -- rapidly ... Time was running short; she would need a jacket against the cool of the evening ... Inspiration struck -- a raincoat! Eight minutes ... Naked, she dialed the school, getting the after- hours message. Pushing past to voicemail, she left a message for her boss, "Patricia? It's Janine. Unless I call back really embarrassed, I won't be in -- I'm being picked up by the Confederacy. Sorry about the notice, but at least you're getting some. Wish me luck! Bye!" When had she made the final decision, exactly? Did it matter? Janine threw on the raincoat and dashed out the front door, locking it behind her. Down the front steps to the sidewalk, turn right, walk to the corner -- and stand there, in a raincoat and flip-flops -- at ten p.m. What kind of idiot did she look like? If the police came by, she stood no chance at all of explaining what she was up to!

Her watch said it was ten o'clock -- and there was no Marine in sight. Was it all a practical joke? Maybe her watch was wrong ... Had she been late? Janine cracked open her cell phone; no, it was now ten oh one, but that meant that she'd arrived on time ... Surely he wasn't the kind of jerk who screwed with people's minds ... Where was he?

Rick was in orbit, watching Janine through the cameras of the drone that had placed the transport pad behind some bushes twenty feet away. He was watching to see if she'd followed instructions and come alone -- and yes, he was getting a kick out of watching her stew ... After watching her fidget for three full minutes, he stepped to the transport pad.

The flicker of light behind her made Janine turn around. "You're late!" she accused.

"No, I'm not," Rick replied calmly, "I never said I would be here at ten, I said YOU should! I could have waited another half-hour to see if you were serious, but you were looking too itchy to allow you to stand around that long."

"You're a bastard -- you know that?" Janine rasped angrily.

Rick pretended to be shocked, "Aw, gee, THAT's not polite ... Where are your manners?" He looked her up and down, leering. "Nice outfit. Does it meet spec?" He raised his watch. "Get out of it."

"Here?" Janine gasped.

"One..." Rick didn't look up.

Janine flinched and got going -- but didn't quite make it. "Four and a half seconds," Rick reported, when the coat puddle around her feet. "You probably would have made it except for being stupid on the front end -- want to go for best two out of three?"

Janine, who was covering her breasts with a forearm and her pubic fur with the other hand, stood there for a moment with her mouth open, looking around for witnesses. "We're going to get arrested!"

"Never gonna happen," Rick replied. "Do you want to try again, or do you want to go home because you failed to follow instructions? Your call..."

Janine stood looking at him for a good ten seconds, flabbergasted, then squatted and fumbled for the coat. "I'll try again," she muttered, pulling the coat around her, still squatting.

Rick let her stand again before cocking his head. "Do you do naked? You act like you've never been nude before. If you'd posed some way the first time, we probably wouldn't have to mess with this, but you're just not getting it, so this time, when you drop the coat, kick it away and stand with your fingers laced behind your head and your feet shoulder-length apart -- got it?"

Shock and outrage painted Janine's features. "You're kidding!"

"Nope," Rick replied, shaking his head. "This is about following instructions. Modesty is a waste of time -- yours AND mine. Your private parts aren't private any more -- they belong to your owner -- and, temporarily, to me. He's going to want to see them. Public nudity in new concubines is the norm. If I put a collar and leash on you and walk you through downtown, I want you to wiggle your butt!" He eyed his watch. "Ready?"

"You won't like..."

"Go!"

Janine dropped the coat -- and diffidently assumed the position. Rick eyed her. "The coat drop was fast, but you were slow getting into position. You've got a second and a half to make up, and that bought you maybe a quarter second. Next time, you need to snap to in just under two seconds, or we're done here." He ran his eyes up and down her. "I've seen worse -- in fact, you have no idea. Besides, what you look like on pickup has very little to do with how you'll look after a couple of weeks, anyway." He sighed theatrically, "I'm going to say this again, REAL SLOW so you get it. We sold Doc Bradley on you based upon your intelligence, but I haven't seen a whole lot of it yet. This is about obedience -- it's about following instructions. OF COURSE the instructions aren't simple shit -- well, actually, they have been, but they're in conflict with your bullshit standards for personal behavior -- what would telling you to scratch you nose show me about what you'll do when something hard to do comes along?" He sighed, more or less theatrically. "Put it back on and we'll go for three -- and THIS time, you'd better MOVE or we're done here!"

Eyeing Rick, Janine picked up her coat again and slid into it. Rick waited until she had settled into it and prompted, "Ready?"

"Ready."

"Go!"

Janine flipped the coat back so it slid down her arms and snapped into position as soon as the sleeves cleared her hands. Rick pursed his lips. "Just barely. I'm probably giving you the benefit of the doubt. That being the case, we'll have to keep testing." He stepped up and palmed a breast. "Don't break position, Honey. Remember, I own you. If I decide to whip out a needle and pierce your nipple, you'd better stand there and watch. This is all really simple -- you do as I say or I walk away. Do you like sex? Where's your CAP card?"

"It's in the right coat pocket," Janine replied.

"Stay there -- I'll get it." Rick knelt and fished for the card. "I asked you a question," he reminded her while he perused it, still squatting.

"I like sex," Janine admitted.

"But it's not a driving force in your life, I notice," Rick replied. But there were some interesting sub-scores there... "Maybe the approach has been all wrong. Are you wet?"

Embarrassed, Janine replied, "I ... might be."

"Hold still -- I'll check."

It was probably the hardest thing Janine had ever done in her life, leaving her hands locked behind her while a strange man slid a finger between her labia -- but somehow, she managed it -- in fact, she spread her stance a bit, without thinking. And if she hadn't been wet at the start, she certainly was by the time he finished! "You know," Rick mused, "some women like to put up a little resistance when they're approached sexually -- and a subset of those women -- the majority, actually -- want to lose. What do you think of that?"

"I..." Janine quivered inside. Did the card say that? Was EVERYTHING on there?

"Okay, moving right along..." Rick stood. "Next test: Get down, fish out my cock, and suck. And before you ask me stupid questions, yes, I'm serious!"

"All right." Janine knelt up and worked at Rick's fly. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

"You don't have to, Honey," Rick told her calmly. "You can just walk away. Frankly, you might be too cantankerous for Doc Bradley -- he's a gentle soul..."

It was just the right note for Rick to take; Janine, worried that she was being stupid and passing up what would eventually be an easy position, got serious about sucking Rick in an effort to show her willingness to please.

It was a big cock -- not two feet or anything, but plenty big enough to eclipse her ex-husband's. She wondered how far the big Marine was planning to go, and whether she was going to have to accommodate it -- and where. Well, she'd sucked cocks before -- maybe not often, but it wasn't a totally unfamiliar exercise.

Rick put his hand at the nape of her neck -- not forcing anything, but indicating that he wanted her going deep and backing off by gentle pressure. "Do you deep-throat?"

Janine, thoroughly involved in what she was doing, backed off only long enough to say, "No."

"The correct answer is 'not yet, '" Rick chided, but he didn't force her.

A car came by -- the first since they'd started. A young male voice erupted, "Woo Hoo!"

Rick waved with one hand while making sure Janine went nowhere with the other. "Suck. If the cops come, you keep sucking while we talk about you. I won't be arrested -- and you won't, either, if I don't kick you to the curb. Understand?"

"Mmph." Janine nodded, too. Rick took her in by the light of the street light. Janine wasn't bad for forty; the tits weren't defying gravity, but they weren't hanging to her waist, and they ran to a 'C' cup, he figured. She had love handles or saddlebags at the hips and some cellulite on her thighs, but they weren't terrible, and while her belly, bifurcated by the scar of a Caesarian section, displayed a little double pooch, it wasn't huge or anything. Her muddy brown hair displayed some reddish highlights, even in the bun or whatever it was she kept it in. "I'll drive," he told her, sliding a hand along either cheek, "Undo your hair." He didn't do anything stupid that might overbalance her while she reached up to undo the clip and pins holding it up. "Yeah, that's better," he approved, sliding his fingers through it and collecting some to hold her head by.

Another car came by, slowing. "Omigod!" a feminine voice erupted. "What on Earth are you doing?"

"Come on, lady!" Rick retorted, "You know what's going on! If you don't, maybe you should get out and come over here so she can give you lessons!"

"Is he hurting you? I'm calling the police!"

Rick let go of Janine's head. "Am I hurting you?"

Turning to where she could see the woman out of the corner of her eye, but keeping her head down, Janine said, "Please don't bother the police -- I'm fine. This is ... consensual."

"Well, it's very public!" the woman retorted. "Are you a hooker or something?"

"No," Rick answered for Janine, "She's a pet, actually. Why don't you run along, if you're not going to pay admission or something?"

"Well, I never!"

"Apparently not," Rick agreed. "I bet you sleep alone." Janine listened to the car driving off while Rick chuckled.

In a moment, though, Rick sighed and backed off. "You were good, there, but I'll never get off with all these distractions. I've got your card; leave that crap where it is -- no, on second thought, give your coat to me." He held out his hand and Janine scooped up her coat and passed it to him. "Get up and come on..." Rick took Janine's hand and led her to the pad. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out a small device and pressed a button; the pad began to glow. "This is it," he told her. "The very first thing I'm gonna do when we get to the other end is stick my dick in your twat -- then I'm gonna invite whoever else is there to sample the merchandise, too. Make up your mind..." He waved at the pad.

Janine shuddered, but she strode forward anyway. Given the big Marine's track record with threats, she was walking into a gang-bang -- but if he was as honest about her eventual placement, it could well be worth whatever Hell he put her through. Besides, the way he kept manipulating her had her wondering just what he would deliver -- and thinking of the whole thing as an adventure. She stopped just before the pad, "What do I do?"

"Step on it; you'll find yourself somewhere else. Then get out of the way, because I'll be right behind you," Rick told her.

Janine nodded and stepped forward -- and was elsewhere, as advertised. It was a well-lit room with a couple of uniformed crewman standing around. "Come forward," one of them directed. Janine did so, then turned to watch as the big Marine suddenly appeared on the pad. "That's it," Rick told the crewman, "Have the drone tractor the pad out of there and head for the barn."

"That's it?" The crewman turned a look on Janine that said she wasn't much.

"Yeah. She's a replacement. Special request." Rick turned to Janine, "Go over to the wall and brace yourself against it, then bend over and spread your legs. That would be now!" He followed up with a swat on her ass that left a red mark.

The last time Janine had been swatted on the ass had been several decades before; bug-eyed, she gave out a squawk and danced toward the wall, watching Rick with big eyes. When she got there, she didn't even THINK of disobeying Rick, but bent and braced herself and watched him get out of his uniform pants.

"Hey, do you HAVE to do that in my transporter room?" the crewman complained.

"Yeah," Rick replied, "It's an object lesson -- she needs it public. Want a piece?"

"Um, no -- I've got my own." The crewman's face said whatever he had at home looked a lot better than Janine. "Why they don't let you jarheads ship with a bed warmer is beyond me, given the stupid shit you do when you've gone without for a while..."

Rick laughed and lined up his cock with Janine's pussy. Her nether lips were already open exposing the opening of her fuck tunnel; seating the tip, he pressed forward.

"HUUUNH!" Even juicy wet, Janine discovered the hard way that the Marine's cock took some adapting to! Rick held her hips and moved himself in a rotary motion, opening her up as he pressed himself in, but it still wasn't fast. On the other hand, though, the sensations were incredible!

"Don't you use this thing?" he gasped.

"N--not lately!" Janine gasped, "F--fingers ... That's about it..."

"No men, huh?"

"N--no," Janine panted. "Too much trouble."

"That just changed."

"Yes..." If there were sizes to a vagina, Janine figured she'd been bored out two by the time the Marine's balls bumped her clit. The guy was HUGE! She'd sucked him but she hadn't realized ... Maybe she'd shrunk ... On the other hand, it seemed like she could feel every bump, trace every vein along his shaft -- wonderful! Sex felt the way it was supposed to -- yet seldom did...

"I've had virgins this tight -- but they tend to ... be distracted ... by the pain," Rick panted as he started to set up a slow rhythm. "How many kids... ?"

"Three."

"How long... ?"

It took Janine a moment -- she was powerfully distracted -- but she got it. "Two years? Two and a half? Nobody this big -- ever!" she panted.

"You okay?"

"Oh, yeah!" Janine nodded vehemently. "F--fuck me!"

Rick grunted out a chuckle. "When's the last time you said that?"

"P--probably never," Janine gasped. "Vulgar."

"Welcome to vulgar, Honey!"

"Oh, GAAAWWD! YESSSS!!!" Janine bonked her head on the wall, having lost control of her arms when the first shock wave hit. "YES! YES! YES! YES!!" Control was out the window; the Marine was basically holding her up by the hips while he pounded her like a rag doll. Her tits swung beneath her, jouncing and swinging and bashing into each other -- and nothing mattered but her surrender and the big payoff the Marine was providing for it! Janine couldn't remember an orgasm like this one -- couldn't remember one she hadn't fought for -- couldn't remember ever having one rush up on her without warning and rock her, again and again! Getting her hands back up, she crossed her arms on the wall and rested her cheek on them and looked back at him with one eye. "What do I have to do to have THAT again?" she panted.

"Wait," Rick replied shortly. Whatever had gone on with this woman had wasted a good piece of ass; Janine was arguably as good or better than the black woman he'd had earlier in the day -- and THAT one had been a landmark piece! Doc was gonna have to wait a while to get this one! Even bored out, it felt like her pussy was sucking on his cock on the out-stroke, trying to pull it back in ... Five minutes was gonna be a long fuck -- but she'd gotten off in about one, so undoubtedly there was another out there...

There was. In fact, Janine knew at the outset that her second orgasm was going to eclipse the first, good as it had been. Maybe it was the whole naked in public thing; maybe it was the way he controlled and manipulated her. Maybe it was that giant plunger of his. Maybe it was the way he seemed to be able to pick her up like a feather and pound her like the Energizer Bunny! Who knew? All Janine knew was that her universe had shrunk to the walls of her vagina, feeling his big cock pistoning in and out while his balls swung against her clit, which felt like it was the size of a marble at this point -- and with every impact, it mapped the surface of his hairy scrotum! She thought she was yelling, but she couldn't hear it around the roaring in her ears. The ground was shaking ... The orgasm hit, and her stomach clenched as her inner walls clutched at their welcome intruder -- and it kept coming, powering through, stimulating even more nerves as her lining clenched around it. The orgasm got bigger, and she pulsed again -- and he pumped again, and it got even bigger ... It was as if he was pumping up her pleasure! She was out of control; she couldn't take any more! She started to scream, but she couldn't breathe...

Janine wasn't the only one on the ropes; her clutching pussy was driving Rick almost insane! He'd been close anyway, but when she started wordlessly wailing and her whole twat had locked itself around his cock, things had jumped up massively in the sensation department! "Gonna shoot!" he grunted through clenched teeth, working for that one last stroke...

Janine heard him and it was the one thing in the world she wanted to hear most! Instinct put her into overdrive and she howled, "CUM! GIVE ME TWINS!" Then he mashed himself against her and she felt it -- ALL of it! She felt his cock get stone hard, felt the pulse flash from the base of his cock at the ring of her opening to the tip, which seemed to bulge with it before the jet of undeniably powerful goo coated her cervix! Her pussy fluttered and it happened again! And again! And still a fourth time! And a hundred foot tidal wave broke over her and darkness fell...

The top of Rick's head seemed to come off as he blasted the inside of Janine's cunt that first time -- then her pussy tried to wring him dry and he let go a second round, then a third -- and a fourth, even, before he was just pulling the trigger on a weapon with an empty magazine! Then suddenly, they were both on their knees; Janine had collapsed, and Rick didn't need to see her face to know from how boneless she was that she had fainted. Well, she'd earned her little nap; her pussy was STILL pulsing, triggering sympathetic pulses in his cock -- VERY pleasant! He waited until his cock stopped reacting and her pussy stopped actively clutching him, then backed out and rolled her onto her side, mildly surprised that a flood didn't result. Rick looked up to find the Transporter Chief, Mack Bowen, standing there, looking down at them. "Maybe I should have taken you up on that," he grunted.

"Well, it's here," Rick replied.

Janine was drifting slowly to consciousness, not yet able to move, soaking in the aftermath of her climax; there was a conversation going on, something she could just make out...

"Not much to look at..." someone opined.

"Well, she's fresh caught, after all," a more familiar voice replied. "She's a fuck and a half, though -- surprised the shit out of me!"

Janine felt she should say something, but her mouth wasn't working yet. Languidly, she moved an arm, fumbling blindly for the owner of the voice.

Rick caught the waving hand. "Look who's back!" he chuckled.

"S--surprised me, too!" Janine managed to get out.

"Well, try to put yourself together, Honey -- you might have another customer!" Rick chuckled.

"No, that's all right," Chief Bowen muttered. "Some other time, maybe." He stood over the pair, watching Janine try to get her eyes to track. "You cum like that all the time, Honey?"

"N-no," Janine replied thickly. "If I did, I'd have been looking for a lot more sex!"

Chief Bowen chuckled, straightened and walked off.

"Well, let's get you up," Rick muttered, hauling on her arm. "Since nobody else wants a piece, we might as well move on." Janine struggled up, wondering whether she was pleased or upset at the lack of interest.

"I thought I was walking into a gang-bang," she muttered, standing on shaky legs.

"I didn't," Rick chuckled. "Squids ship with a woman, usually, so they've all got pussy in arm's reach - and they all look like contestants in a beauty pageant. You should be pleased that the little performance you put on garnered some interest!"

"I don't know what you did..." Janine shook her head to clear it.

"I just fucked you, Honey -- that's all. You carried the ball all by yourself! I think you were looking forward to a little strange dick, though -- and you like being muscled a little. Well, you're gonna get more of that ... Come on, we're headed for Medical and then my cabin; Doc Bradley wants to break in his other piece solo, and I'm happy to oblige him."

At Medical, Rick had Janine popped into a tube to ensure that her fainting wasn't a sign of anything serious -- but the AI diagnosed the issue as 'massive overload of pleasure receptors, ' so he quit worrying and instructed it to infuse the usual load of maintenance and repair nanobots, and to concentrate on repairs to her womb and any related issues stemming from her Caesarian sections. "She IS fertile, right? She isn't menopausal, or anything..."

"The subject is demonstrably fertile," the AI replied.

Rick had been working with AIs for a while; he knew a joker in the deck when he saw one. "Demonstrably? Elaborate."

"The subject has conceived within the past hour."

"Sweet..." What would Doc Bradley think of THAT? "Make whatever standard adjustments necessary to allow her to gestate properly."

"As you wish." The AI paused for a bit -- purely an affectation useful in communication with humans, since he operated at a totally different rate. "I am advised that you are not the sponsor."

Rick grunted. "The sponsor has authorized me temporary rights of sponsorship and free utilization. He'll be expecting my advice on proper preparation and control. I am the effective sponsor."

"Agreed. The caution was merely a confirmation due to the long-term effects of the ordered changes. Execution proceeds."

"Thank you." Rick tried to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "Do you have any other issues?"

The AI surprised him by responding, "The subject's psychological makeup -- as you have previously identified -- may not be an optimal fit with the sponsor's. While there is no real danger inherent in the pairing, the subject appears to function optimally in a level of conflict beyond the sponsor's comfort level."

"You're saying they'll fight?"

"Or they will not, and the subject's function will be impaired thereby."

"Recommendations?"

"A trade for a concubine who is more meek."

"Great," Rick grunted. He'd dragged the woman up from the surface; now he was going to have to palm her off on someone in trade for a wallflower to hand Doc Bradley. "Any suggestions?"

"Molly Braeden-Evans approaches optimal parameters."

"What?" Molly was one of Rick's concubines -- a pleasant, somewhat stocky girl with an extremely quiet and shy personality. "MY Molly?"

"Correct," the AI replied. "The solution minimizes turbulence by only inconveniencing you. Molly is suboptimal as a concubine for you; she is only capable of limited self-assertion and is repelled by the violence of your profession." For the record, the AI was right; if Molly had a fault in Rick's eyes, it was the fact that she was excessively squeamish and wimpy -- but...

"She's also four months pregnant with my kid!" Rick retorted.

The AI was unperturbed. "At this point, the only difference between Molly and the current subject is the elapsed gestation time."

"Arrgh." Rick rubbed his face.

"Both of the current relationships operate in the functional range," the AI reminded him, "They are merely suboptimal. You may leave them as they are. However, this may be a disservice to Doctor Bradley..."

"Yeah," Rick grunted. "Thanks for the heads-up."

"You are welcome."

Rick stood around weighing the alternatives until the tube cover popped, then hauled Janine out of there. "Is anything wrong?" she asked.

"Nope, you're as healthy as a horse -- and getting healthier by the minute," Rick grunted. "Just stay with me and don't be a distraction."



-------

Chapter 6


While Rick might have bought himself a load of trouble, Pete certainly hadn't! Maureen was, well, just incredible! She was hot and sweet and shy -- and hungry...

On Earth, Maureen was a queen-sized girl; well over six feet and robustly constructed, she was somewhat too large for the comfort of over ninety percent of the male population. Add shyness and a period of explosive acne at puberty and she was a girl nobody wanted -- and expected to stay that way -- until Pete had wandered into the card shop where she worked that morning.

She'd gotten wet just looking at him -- and then her knees got weak when she realized that he was looking back! He'd called her away from the checkout counter and become almost instantly familiar -- and Maureen, ill- equipped to fight off his advances, melted! He'd wanted insane levels of intimacy -- right there in the card store! -- and she'd been unable to refuse him! She'd shown him her breasts, sucked his cock, swallowed his seed -- and he'd told her to come to him, later...

She'd very nearly not made it -- Edith, the older woman who ran the store, tried to lock her in 'for her own good.' She'd been absolutely brutal with the woman, locking her in a storeroom when it became apparent that she was NOT going to let her go -- and had rushed to the bakery cafe, heart in her mouth -- AND HE WAS THERE! It WASN'T a cruel joke, he WASN'T playing games with her, and he WASN'T fishing for someone else -- he got up and collected her and told his partner right there in front of her that he planned on keeping her! He'd given her the kind of instructions that no decent girl would ever obey -- but she had -- and then, in the midst of the insanity of the pickup, they'd made love...

Okay, so, maybe most people would have said that he'd fucked her; it had been hurried and mildly uncomfortable and embarrassing and VERY public -- and Heavenly, like it was now, on the bed that had suddenly slid out of the wall when he'd touched a button, in a room where they were all alone. Perhaps that time before WAS just fucking, but THIS wasn't; it was slow and gentle and romantic and the feel of his cock in her depths mixed with the feel of his lips on hers and his tongue in her mouth and his hands on her flanks -- no, THIS was making love!

Pete couldn't have agreed more. This was what he'd failed to obtain when he'd been extracted; the pair of mall rats he'd selected had been somewhat decorative, but they hadn't had a clue -- and they were worthless as fucks. Maureen was big and beautiful and comfortable -- and hot and spicy and responsive! She'd hit her peak twice already -- and she wasn't EVEN quiet about it and the way she threw her pussy up at him left no question as to whether she enjoyed it or not! He'd put her in a tube for ten minutes earlier in the evening, largely to make sure her reproductive system was in optimal condition; the acne scars on her cheeks would be gone by morning -- and that was the ONLY thing he planned to change about her! There would be no upsizing, downsizing, bust adjustments, tummy tucks -- well, maybe he might widen her throat at some point, but that was it! She was perfect! Maybe she would even learn to love him...

If Maureen had realized that Pete had that concern, she'd have been nonplussed; she was his NOW -- there was no question where SHE wanted to be!

Her insides were beginning to quake -- again -- in response to his perpetual pounding of her depths. Orgasm was thundering down on her. Maureen clutched herself to her newfound love and wailed into his mouth as her ass churned beneath him, adding additional friction to the fire in her loins!

She was tight, she was wild, she was moving like a mad thing -- Pete was beside himself, unable to hold off his peak under the onslaught of sensations. Roaring, he rocked back and gave a lurch -- and Maureen, clinging to him, came with him as he rose to the vertical, then slipped both hands under her ass and proceeded to ram himself into her from below, impaling her on his steel-hard staff! Four times he lifted her bodily and dropped her on his cock, plunging it into her, then he exploded, blasting thick gouts of semen against her cervix. Maureen screamed and her eyes rolled up in her head -- but her pussy squeezed and clutched him, milking him rhythmically. They froze there, him on his knees with her impaled on his erection, clutching one another.

Rick stood in the door of the cabin he shared with Pete, holding Janine's hand. "Jeez," he muttered, "and I thought WE were hot..."

"Yeah, me, too..." Janine agreed.

-------

Depending upon the selection available at pickup, the evening of the pickup tends to be a high-water mark for sexual hijinks; while this pickup was unusual in that the support team managed to participate, they were by no means alone. The primary issue tends to be who gets chosen for sex on that first night; while later, after augmentation has begun, sponsors tend to be able to handle two concubines more or less back to back, on that first night, unaugmented, selection tends to be an issue with lasting consequences, especially among the smaller families.

A case in point: Jason Frederics. Jason hadn't managed to have sex with either Nadine or Allison before extraction; now came the question of who would share his bed. Jason understood clearly that his selection had implications in identifying who was first in his little stable -- and that was the problem: Jason had no idea which of them to set above the other. Nadine was a spur-of-the-moment acquisition, while, truth be told, Allison had been a target of interest for some time. On the other hand, Nadine was older -- and undoubtedly wiser -- and perhaps should have the leadership position for that reason. Things were somewhat complicated by the mid-afternoon episode when Allison sucked him off; did that mean he owed Nadine, or not? It was sort of like arguing Clinton's assertion that a blow job wasn't sex ... Jason paced the floor of the main room of his pod, trying to puzzle it out.

Allison didn't get it -- and Jason's attitude made her nervous -- but Nadine understood. "What's wrong?" Allison fidgeted, watching him from the tiny kitchen table.

"It's simple, Hon," Nadine replied. "There's one of him and two of us. If he picks one of us over the other..."

"Oh."

"Exactly. The other one will make assumptions about who is First Squaw. Obviously, he's having problems deciding. If I was him, I'd be messed up, too. He can hang it on you, because you've got prior claim -- but you're young; it's probably hanging a bunch of shit on you that you're not ready for, and it's a slap in the face to me. On the other hand, if he unloads it on me, I can probably carry it better, but it'll hurt your feelings..." Nadine smiled wanly. "Guys are a lot simpler creatures than we are -- and sometimes we just make life hard on them. I think he's a nice guy -- everything points to it -- so he's out there trying to make a head and heart decision, and wishing he had NO women..."

"I don't want to be First Squaw," Allison insisted. "Does someone have to be on top? Can't we share or something?"

"That's more or less up to us, Hon -- not him. If we want to cooperate, it makes his life easier -- but the first time we don't it's all going to come back," Nadine advised.

"Well, does it have to get settled tonight?"

"Not if we put it off."

"I'm okay with that," Allison maintained.

"We have to cooperate, then," Nadine told her. "We have to share -- and realize that one of us is going to come up short, probably."

"Okay." Allison looked a little glum.

"See? It isn't easy. You have to get into the spirit of it -- and remember who matters and who doesn't," Nadine pointed out. "He matters -- he's why we're here. If this gig is as cushy as I expect it's going to be -- raising kids with all the modern conveniences and no bills or anything to worry about except maybe being bored to death, somewhere that isn't dead smack in the sights of those creatures -- then we owe him, BIG TIME, just for being here. I never expected to be picked up -- even when the whole thing started. There were probably a dozen chicks in that room that could've edged me out. I don't know what possessed him to pick me -- but I DO know that whatever he wants from me, he gets!" Nadine eyed Allison sidelong, "YOU, on the other hand -- you were doing the dance, even if it WAS clumsy. I can see where that might lead to expectations..."

"No, you're right," Allison admitted. "I was being selfish, when I should just be grateful. What do we do?"

"Double-team him. Undoubtedly, the bed will hold the three of us. Try to be fair about it and share and keep him occupied -- and whoever misses out at the end shouldn't get too excited about it. Tomorrow is another day. If he sets a pattern, well, then we'll have our answer, won't we?"

"Yeah." Allison nodded.

"Let's go, then." The intent to be equal notwithstanding, Nadine took charge -- it wasn't in her not to. Besides, she had a plan, and Allison didn't. Approaching Jason, she queried, "Isn't it time to go to bed?"

"Well, yeah," Jason admitted.

"Let's go, then." She took one of Jason's hands. Allison moved up and took the other, smiling.

"Both of you? I'm only human!" Jason protested.

"Are you sure?" Nadine teased. "You're making this harder than it has to be -- isn't he, Hon?"

"Lots," Allison agreed. "Come to bed." They tugged him toward the bedroom.

Being led toward a bed by two naked women is not a resistance situation for most males -- and Jason was no exception. Within ninety seconds, he was on the bed, naked, with a woman on either side of him. "Just relax, Hon, and enjoy the variety," Nadine advised, positioning herself to feed Jason a nipple. "This isn't an every-day problem. Most gals can take on more than one guy on a given day -- but they can't do it EVERY day. Allison and I don't feel the need to compete -- do we, Hon?"

From where Allison sat, the competition was over -- if there had ever been one. Nadine was a leader, and Allison didn't have any direction -- so it made sense to follow Nadine. But there was no requirement to make Jason worry about it... "That's right," she agreed, jacking Jason's cock, "It'll all be fine."

"Give him a titty, Hon -- I'll give him a suck," Nadine directed. Allison nodded and shifted her position, and Jason got an up-close comparison between Nadine's pointed but somewhat droopy red breasts and Allison's white melons. Jason locked his lips on a nipple and groaned as hot lips enveloped his cock.

While enjoying nirvana was something he could do, it didn't feel right to Jason. Nadine's pussy was out of reach, but Allison's wasn't, so he slid his fingers through the thin mat of fur at the top of her mound and alongside her clitoral hood. Allison gasped and opened her legs to grant him further access, crooning and caressing his brush-cut as she held his head to her breast. It seemed like there was a direct path for sparks to jump from her nipple to her clit; with Jason working on both, gasping with pleasure and undulating came naturally. Jason had not only Allison's movement to clue him in as to how things were going, but her lubrication, too.

Nadine watched Allison writhe out of the corner of her eye and grinned around Jason's cock. Things were pretty much going according to plan -- the plan being that Nadine was going to put Allison on Jason's cock until she got an orgasm, then replace her and ride Jason home. Nadine didn't consider that what she was doing was manipulation; these were a pair of young, inexperienced kids -- she was just making sure everybody got the maximum amount of fun out of the episode. Nadine waited until Allison was humping Jason's fingers and said, "Come here, Hon. Climb into the saddle."

Allison was surprised. "Really?"

"Come get it," Nadine confirmed.

Allison extracted her breast and straddled Jason, and Nadine poised his cock at her opening. "Settle in, Honey. Give the man a ride!" Allison rocked up and sheathed Jason's cock in three quick strokes, moaning. "Ride 'em, cowgirl!" Nadine encouraged as Allison started bouncing energetically on Jason's cock.

"Oh, fu-- fuuuck!" the younger woman gasped. Riding on top like that gave her full control over the penetration -- and the pleasure!

Nadine grinned, knowing full well what was happening; Allison wouldn't last long -- Hell, she was already pinking up from her hairline to the tips of her breasts!

Jason, however, wasn't satisfied with the situation. Unaware that Nadine intended to replace Allison at some point, he was determined to give the older woman some pleasure. "Come here," he gasped, grabbing at Nadine's hip. Nadine, surprised, shifted her ass in his direction -- but he kept pulling, grabbing her hip for purchase. "Straddle," he gasped. Nadine wasn't likely to argue; if he wanted to stick his tongue in her, she was all for it! She moved to straddle his head and settled gently over his face until he could bring his tongue to bear.

Jason liked eating pussy; the smell made him steel hard -- which improved Allison's ride, because she was kinking him a bit on occasion and the pain was making him a little lank. Firmed up, he left her no options in that area; she was up and down on him, not back and forth, and it was better for both of them!

In the meantime, Jason took no prisoners; he sucked in Nadine's clitoral hood between his lips and started wailing on the nerve bundle beneath with his tongue!

Nadine's eyes popped! "Woo hoo! Gawd, Honey! I had no idea you were a lapper! Oh, Baby! Shit!" She quivered and braced her hands on her thighs, leaning forward to rest her head on Allison's bouncing shoulder. "Gawd, Honey!" she gasped, "He's got a tongue to die for!"

"You should ... try ... THIS!" Allison gasped. She was cherry red from her hairline to the tips of her breasts, and seeing everything through a haze as every bounce brought her closer to orgasm. She braced her hands against Nadine's forearms, which steadied things, using that grip and where Nadine's face burrowed into her shoulder as a brace point while she hurtled up and down Jason's hot, hard shaft!

"Ahhhgh! Shit... ! Shit... !" Jason's direct attack on her clitoris was more than Nadine could tolerate -- but she couldn't bring herself to escape it! She started shaking like a leaf as orgasm overcame her. Mindlessly, she started sucking Allison's neck...

Allison EXPLODED! "AAAIIIIEEEEEEE!!!!" she screamed at the top of her lungs as the orgasm she'd been chasing turned at bay and attacked her! Nadine's lips on her neck triggered an absolute explosion of pleasure that overwhelmed her and sent her out of control, both physically and mentally. While surging upward at the apex of her peak, her right leg collapsed and she fell sideways, dragging Nadine with her by the grip she had on her arms. Nadine, who was beyond orgasm and headed for overload, went right over without resistance, breaking the connection with Jason's lips and tongue that had her paralyzed.

This situation, however, left Jason out of contact with wet pussy on both ends -- an undesirable situation! "Fuck!" Jason howled, surging up. There were two women crashed on the bed on their sides, facing one another -- and neither of them seemed to have her shit together. Jason needed a cunt to plug into -- yesterday, preferably -- and he made a hip-shoot call... 'I've had the white one... ' Arousal lent him superhuman strength; he rolled Nadine up onto her knees -- rolling Allison onto her back in the process -- hauled her hips up, and slid home in her juicy cunt!

"OH GAWD DAMN!" Nadine, who had been crawling back from the edge of consciousness, got a jolt -- BANG! -- She was impaled! Her eyes popped! Where the fuck had that dick come from? Taking note of her surroundings, she found herself draped over an equally surprised Allison -- and Jason was pounding away at her over-stimulated twat like there was no tomorrow!

"You kissed me!" Allison gasped, wide-eyed, "On the neck!"

"Didn't ... mean to..." Nadine grunted. "I was ... cumming..." Then she grinned, "Besides ... you liked it!"

"B--but..."

"It's FINE!" Jason puffed. "Don't distract me! Don't distract HER!" They could sort out who was a lesbian later, after he was done fucking! Inspiration struck. "Shit, get even! Chew a nipple!" Allison flinched in shock, but Jason wasn't having any, "DO IT!"

Allison, overawed by the raw power in his voice, scooted down a bit, collected a swinging breast, and started chewing the nipple. Nadine groaned and started lunging back at Jason, "Aw, FUCK, Honey! You're a wild man! Goddamn!" Pleasure flashed everywhere!

Nadine was no stranger to dick; she'd had her boys and then gotten divorced, and fell into construction while looking for a way to support them. The trades had been good to her; she went about things in a no-nonsense manner and was accepted as one of the boys -- except that she wasn't. Periodically, after a beer bust or a night of cards, they would all remember that when she let her hair down for one of the boys -- or two, or three, depending ... She would get her fill and that would handle the itch for a while -- and something about her manner kept the boys from getting all confused as to her status in between.

So she'd been manhandled before -- and had had any number of stubby fingers in her twat -- and had been pounded by experts. But she hadn't expected that shit from this fresh-faced kid! And the tongue! Gawd! The boys generally avoided putting face to gash -- and she'd never had reason to complain about it -- but THIS kid! Woo hoo! "Fuck me, Honey! Aw, shit -- I'm gonna cum again! JEEZUS! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Her arms gave out and she flopped forward, collapsing atop Allison -- except for her ass, which was very firmly in Jason's grip!

Allison scooted back up where she could get air -- which left Nadine lying with her head on her chest. Jason swatted Nadine on the ass and panted, "Give back!" and Nadine wrapped her lips around a nipple without a quibble.

Allison was scandalized -- but it DID feel good ... Jason seemed to want it, so she couldn't get too upset about it...

Jason had no attention span left for anything but his approaching climax. Nadine with her lips wrapped around Allison's nipple was a nice visual, but that was all there was to it; he had six strokes left ... five ... four... "AW, FUUUUCK!!!!" He jammed himself in deep and flooded Nadine's cunt, moving around just enough to maximize his enjoyment while his cock pulsed his juice into her. "DAMN!"

Nadine looked up at Allison, "Honey, we're gonna have our hands full!" Then she went back to the nipple -- more as harassment than anything else.

Allison, instantly uncomfortable, began to struggle. "Aw, come on!" Jason grunted, "Didn't you do slumber parties?"

"Not THAT kind!" Allison retorted.

"I did," Nadine murmured. "It didn't hurt anything..."

"Does it really bother you?" Jason asked.

"Well..." Allison watched Jason anxiously for a clue.

"A little girlie stuff doesn't make you a lesbian," Nadine insisted. "Both of us have had dick tonight -- would anything else replace it?"

"Well, no..." Allison was STILL watching Jason.

"Okay, then." Jason closed the subject. "I need to lie down. Is there some kind of alarm clock?"

"What time do you wish to awaken?" An AI asked, causing them all to jump.

"No fucking privacy," Nadine muttered.

"Well, the girls won't have to dress," Jason grinned at them. "An hour before breakfast."

"Very well."

"Okay, one of you on either side..." Jason proceeded to get comfortable.

-------

For Sandrine, things were different, but not necessarily exciting. She'd taken Brad to bed in the afternoon, and while she was pleased with the result, she saw no need to repeat the exercise right away. Given the stresses of getting the children settled in a strange place, Brad and Barbara had their hands full, and didn't bother to reaffirm their own relationship in the wake of the event. Barbara, exhausted by the stresses of the day, gave very little thought to her new position as the bottom female on the totem pole.

-------

Positions in Mike Fisher's little family were clear -- or, most of them were. Linda wasn't up to going toe to toe with Jolene -- that was more or less a given at the outset. But Jolene had some bad habits...

Pete, having had the interview with Jolene's mother, felt it necessary during the sponsor briefing to advise Mike, "Be tough with her -- REAL tough! Her own mother said she would benefit from being slapped around!" It didn't seem to sink in; privately, Pete figured that Jolene was going out an airlock.

The trouble started as soon as they returned to the pod. "Why don't you put the kids to bed?" Mike suggested.

Jolene wrinkled her nose. "Kids ain't going to bed! Shit, they'll all probably try to stay up to midnight, what with all the excitement! Broaddus is gonna need to eat again. Linda, where is all that baby shit? Broaddus is still in diapers -- well, them diaper pants, anyway..." She wandered off basically ignoring Mike, who stood there looking irritated.

The exchange highlighted the difference between the women; Linda cringed at the look on Mike's face. Mike told her, "Put Tommy to bed and come back," -- and she was outta there!

Mike turned to Tyrone. "You've seen your room -- want to go there?"

"I'll stay here." Tyrone's sly grin said he was there for the entertainment. Mike frowned. But Nishelle was rubbing her eyes. Mike squatted and addressed her, "Are you sleepy, Honey?" Nishelle nodded solemnly and took Mikes hand willingly. Mike didn't know whether she was used to being bathed or washed before bed, so he just left her in her undershirt and panties and tucked her in, then headed back downstairs.

Ten minutes later, Jolene came back downstairs; Broaddus wasn't with her. "Where's Nishelle?"

"I put her to bed."

"Oh, so now you know all about child care, do ya?" Jolene snapped, hands on hips. "These are MY kids and..."

"AI, erect a field between us. Damp the sound from that side," Mike directed.

Jolene stopped yammering, touched the slightly shimmering wall, then got REALLY angry! "You sumbitch! What the fuck..."

Mike just stood there, looking at her; he couldn't hear a thing. "Move the field one meter toward the wall."

The AI complied; the field bumped Jolene, pushing her backward. "Hey! You can't do that!" Jolene ranted -- but she was rattled.

Tyrone was on Jolene's side of the field. "Partition the field between Jolene and Tyrone and restore sound transmission on Tyrone's side," Mike directed, then addressed Tyrone, "About your room..."

Tyrone rubbed his nose. "I think maybe I wanna go up there now."

"Good plan," Mike agreed, and directed the AI, "Drop the field around Tyrone." Tyrone stepped carefully through what had been a barrier and Mike added, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Tyrone trotted to the grav lift, only glancing back at his mother as he stepped onto the pad. The look was clear; it conveyed 'Now you've done it, ' totally without words. Then he was gone.

"Retract the field another fifty centimeters," Mike directed. The field again retracted, zapping Jolene in the process. Things were starting to get tight in her impromptu cage, and Jolene was starting to look desperate. "Shrink partitions to Jolene's left and right to fifty centimeters. Can she hear me?"

"Sound transmission is one way," the AI reported.

"Shut up!" Mike ordered Jolene. Her mouth kept moving, although the expression on her face wasn't anger any more. Fear and desperation were ascendant. "Blank sound from this end for a moment, while I give you instructions," Mike directed.

"Sound transmission is blocked."

"Create a ceiling on the area containing Jolene," Mike directed. "Extend things this direction enough that she can operate on her hands and knees, then start lowering the top field slowly, forcing her into position."

"Define slowly."

Mike thought about it. "One-half centimeter a second. Halve the speed if I ask for you to slow down. Resume sound transmission one way." In a lilting voice, he ordered, "Shut up, Jolene..." -- knowing she wouldn't. In fact, after a moment, when the lid on her little box started pressing her toward the floor, she started screaming, not that anyone could hear anything.

Forty seconds later, she was on her hands and knees -- and hysterical. "Jolene!" Mike roared, "SHUT UP!" She settled back to a sniffle and Mike told her, "I'll let you talk if you can control yourself, understand? Nod." Jolene nodded. "First," he continued, "You are going to listen to me! Those kids are mine now, too -- I didn't make them, but they're my responsibility. In fact, they're my responsibility even if I toss you out an airlock -- did you get that in the briefings?"

Jolene assumed an expression of disbelief. Mike sighed. "Turn on the sound," he told the AI, then, "Go ahead, say it..."

"You can't really do that..." Jolene demurred.

Pete had given Mike a tool for this... "AI, display the sequence of events beginning with when that woman Phyllis went postal at dinner for Jolene."

"Please clarify. What is 'went postal?'" the AI asked.

"When she had that fit." Mike remembered Pete's terminology. "We need to see the disposal sequence."

A holographic display flickered to life in a position convenient to both viewers. They watched Phyllis' outburst, and her being incapacitated by the stinger, then two crewmen collected her unconscious body and placed it on a floating stretcher. Jolene had seen this in person -- but not the continuation of the sequence beyond line of sight. The two crewmen took Phyllis up the corridor and through a hatch to another portion of the ship, up a catwalk over a large open tube -- and they flipped the stretcher, causing the woman's body to fall into the tube.

"Omigawd!" Jolene gasped. "They just ... dumped her! Where does that thing go?"

"That is the raw materials input for a large replication unit," the AI answered. "It is simpler to recreate organic molecules if the input materials are also organic. The subject was reduced to its component molecules for use in replication of other organic substances. You humans call this recycling."

"Oh, fuck!" Jolene gasped, horrified. Linda fell to her knees and vomited on the floor.

"So..." Mike turned to Jolene. "Won't? Maybe. Can't? Don't bet on it!"

Jolene, fearful and penitent, looked up at Mike. "Just beat me or something, okay? Break a leg -- maybe you want to hit me in the mouth? I'm real sorry -- I just get going, and..."

"Drop the fields," Mike told the AI. "Jolene, if you argue with me because I'm wrong, that's fine -- but if you argue with me to see who's in charge, I'm gonna stick you in a box so small you'll be chewing on your kneecaps and leave you there until you piss yourself -- understand? Now help Linda clean up this mess -- you helped cause it! I'm going to bed!" Mike took three steps, turned back and added, "and if I manage to go to sleep without my cock soaking in someplace warm and wet, I'm gonna find the most uncomfortable hole on you to bury it in tomorrow morning!"

"Shit," Jolene grunted. "Linda, Honey, go wash your face and sit on his dick -- I'll clean this up..."

"He wouldn't, really... ?" Linda wrung her hands.

"You're safe, I figure -- he's basically a nice guy," Jolene replied. "I'm stupid, though ... I'm not gonna like it, but if you see me fucking up, say something, willya?"

"Okay." The look on Linda's face said that she wouldn't relish the probable response -- and therefore probably wouldn't involve herself.

Jolene sighed; Linda would probably be no help. "Go wash your face and do something for him -- blow him, fuck him, SOMETHING! He's kinda pissed and we want to make him happy, okay?"

"Okay." Linda nodded, swallowed, and headed off.

Jolene eyed the pool of vomit. "Now, how do I clean this?"

"It will be absorbed into the flooring within thirty-six hours, but there would be considerable olfactory impingement if you used that method."

"Olfactory... ?"

"Smell."

"Yeah. So, what are my other options?" It turned out that a device that combined a wet-vac and a mop was available. The AI talked Jolene through using it and a deodorizer to deal with the mess.

Meanwhile, Linda made her presence known in the master suite. "Um, Mike? What can I do for you?"

"Blow me, I guess. You suck, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Climb up here, then."

Linda did suck -- but like everything else she did, apparently, it was so-so. Mike was irritated and she was in the right place at the wrong time, so he used her, holding her head and fucking her mouth. She was choking and gagging when Jolene came into the room. "Mike, stop it. Linda, roll off -- it's me he wants to fuck over, and I'm here to take it."

"You still think you're running things," Mike grunted.

"No, not really -- it's just not fair for you to fuck her over 'cause you're pissed at me. You'll mess her the fuck up, for one thing; she's already scared to death of you. I'm just tellin' you that it ain't smart."

Mike grunted. "All right." He let go of Linda's head. "Sorry, Linda. You need to work on your sucking, though, unless you're a lot better at fucking." He patted the bed. "Come up here beside me." He just looked at Jolene; she tossed off her shift and climbed up between his legs, taking his cock in her hands. Mike put both hands on her head and Jolene knew the next act wasn't going to be pleasant.

It wasn't -- but at least Jolene had given throat before. She choked and gagged and drooled -- and Mike would stop her to lick the mess off his balls, periodically. It appeared that the only moderating influence on Mike was Linda's gasps and shudders of horror. It ALSO became apparent fairly quickly, that Mike was NOT going to get an orgasm from this particular blow job. This was punishment -- and everyone present knew it.

Mike kept it up for about ten minutes -- until he couldn't stand to hear Linda's quiet sobs any more. Jolene was right; his mistreatment of either of them affected Linda deeply. Letting Jolene up, he growled, "Remember who ELSE you fuck over when you make me punish you!" then turned to Linda, saying, "Shhhh, it's over..." and hauling her soft body against him. "I'm not generally a bastard -- Jolene just brings out the worst in me."

Jolene wiped her mouth, crawled up behind Linda, and croaked, "He's right -- and I deserved that. Next time, maybe you won't have to be there." She kneaded Linda's shoulder.

"It was ugly," Linda blubbered. "Sex shouldn't be ugly."

"Sometimes it's just sex," Mike replied, "and sometimes, it's something else. Has it always been good for you?"

"No," Linda admitted. Her missing boyfriend, Tommy's father -- coincidentally named Michael -- hadn't been the type to remain gainfully employed or otherwise dependable. He'd been a musician -- a free spirit. Or, if you listened to Linda's father, a worthless, sorry-assed oxygen thief ... When she'd turned up pregnant and her father had kicked her out, he'd moved her into his trailer and things had been wonderful for a while -- until the money ran out. Then things started happening: Things disappeared, and strange guys started hanging around. They'd had nothing but each other -- which unfortunately translated to he had nothing but her. She remembered the first time he'd pitched it: "Look, Jerry's gonna put us on the street if I don't give him a few bucks. I know Al -- he's an okay guy. It'll be fine -- just close your eyes and pretend it's me." But it wasn't him; Al wasn't him, and John wasn't him and black guys weren't him and the Puerto Rican guy who wanted his pot money wasn't him ... Frankly, she forgot exactly how Michael did it -- and he wasn't providing any reminders! Then she'd missed her period again... "No, not always."

"We'll try not to do ugly -- won't we, Jolene?" Mike pressed.

"Yeah, I'll be good, okay?" Jolene promised. It was for both of them, as intended.

"So, about sex," Mike muttered.

Linda, accidentally primed for it, started blubbering.



-------

Chapter 7


"What the fuck?" Mike looked to Jolene for answers, since Linda had more or less erupted.

Jolene shrugged, but took over. "What's wrong, Baby?"

"This is ... how I pay, right?" Linda whimpered. "Sex? With men?"

Mike blinked. Linda didn't like sex? That wasn't what her CAP card said ... Then there was that other matter... "Men?"

Jolene ran with it. "Men? Your old man was pimpin' you out?"

"Michael ... We were broke..." She nodded.

"A lot? More than once?" Jolene pressed. Linda nodded again.

Mike, who was by no means stupid, changed up. "Well, technically, you're here to produce children. You've already got Tommy -- and you said you were pregnant, right?"

Linda nodded.

"Do you know who the daddy is?" Jolene asked.

Linda shook her head no and tucked her face into Mike's shoulder.

"That really doesn't matter," Mike smoothed it over, "any more than who Tommy's dad is -- or, for that matter, Tyrone's, or Nishelle's or Broaddus'. I'm responsible. It might be nice if number six was mine, though..." He cuddled her against him. "As for men, there's me -- and that's about it. I know you haven't seen my good side..."

Jolene took it up, "He gets a little pissed when people give him shit -- which ain't unusual -- and he lets it bleed over some when he's mad -- that happens, too. But I figure he's probably an improvement over your old man, once you get to know him. Shit, he took on five kids at the drop of a hat!"

"Since you're pregnant, there's no urgency," Mike murmured.

"Yeah," Jolene agreed. "I ain't -- and I ain't had any in a while. I got this." She repositioned to suck Mike some more, since he'd gone somewhat lank in the interim.

"Really?" Linda's head popped up. "After... ?"

"Baby, somebody has to be boss -- and it has to be Mike! I fucked up and forgot that -- or, actually, I needed to learn it. That shit needed doin' and it coulda been a LOT worse!" She flicked a glance at Mike. "He's a thinker -- other guys I've been with woulda hauled off and slapped the shit out of me -- and maybe that woulda worked, for a week or two, but eventually I woulda tried whackin' him back. What he did, though -- that was smart. Now I know he's got his shit together and I need to keep my head down."

"But the blow job?" Linda objected.

"I earned that," Jolene waved it off. "You didn't, maybe, but I did. If he was lookin' to get a nut, things woulda never gone like that, right Mike?"

"Right," Mike agreed. "That was kind of sorry-assed of me -- especially with you, Linda. I just..." He shrugged.

Jolene had the answer. "What he did to me in the living room worked -- but it wasn't personal enough. Mike hadn't got his mad out. Since he didn't kick the shit out of me, there was still some leftovers. Now we need to handle his OTHER problem..." She went back to sucking. "I got this -- why don't you feed him some milk or somethin'?"

"Or just cuddle," Mike offered, "I don't want to get into anything too wild until you settle down some and have a little confidence in me." Getting a fuck from Jolene would undoubtedly do the trick for him; he had every confidence that the sparky black woman knew all about fucking.

It was the right note to take. Linda was nothing if not trusting, in the first place. "Okay." She settled in and started rubbing his chest, watching Jolene suck. It was a vastly different blow job than the previous one; Jolene was working totally hands-off. Mike wasn't doing much but grunting and hissing in pleasure; one arm was under Linda, holding her against him, and the other was occupied not with guiding Jolene's head but with rubbing Linda's shoulder and upper arm.

The blow job was hot to watch; Jolene knew all about cock sucking. Mike was right, Linda decided, she needed lessons. When Mike gasped, "Jolene..." she got up and straddled him, rubbing her cock along her split, then settled on it, grunting, and started rising and falling on it. Mike gasped, "Yeah, fuck!" -- answering any question Linda had about whether he was enjoying it or not while Jolene pumped up and down on him, giving out whining grunts. Linda found herself getting aroused. "How is it?" Linda asked.

"Oh, it's good, Baby! It's REAL good! I've had bigger, but the really big ones don't get HARD like this! We got a good 'un!" Jolene panted, bouncing, her titties jouncing, the rings in her nipples catching the light. Some of Jolene's men -- Broaddus' daddy Leon, for instance -- had big fat dicks -- but they tended to flex. Maybe that was a good thing, since no woman was going to take in a foot of cock to the root anywhere but maybe up the ass -- but you couldn't rub 'em against your G-spot like Jolene was doing with THIS one. THIS one was fuckin' GREAT! It went all the way in to bonk her cervix, too -- just right for baby-making! "F--fuck! I been missin' out, stickin' to nigger dick!"

Linda was getting wet and needy. Her nipples crinkled up -- which made them drippy. Her left breast dribbled onto Mike's chest. "Sorry! Tommy didn't eat..." Linda had been breastfeeding all along -- they couldn't afford formula. With a couple of good meals in her, her production was up -- and Tommy had fed well in the afternoon, and hadn't been interested when they returned home, due to the hour. He'd sucked a little, but gone right to sleep, leaving Linda engorged. Diffidently, she suggested, "Maybe Jolene had the right idea..."

"Milk?" Mike asked. "I dunno..."

"Sucking tits isn't a distraction for most guys!" Jolene panted. "Shit, Baby, I LOVE this dick! Mama's gonna be so good to you..." She got this really intent look on her face, then gasped, "Ah, shit! I'm gonna cum! Awww SHIIIIT!" She bounced up and down like a crazed thing for a few moments, wailing, "SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!!" then stopped dead, puffing... "Gimme a second. Fuck, that was good!" Then she started rocking, and slowly got back to what she'd been doing before.

Mike didn't like the stop, but she started moving again almost immediately, so he let it go. Linda, who had stopped to watch Jolene orgasm, turned back to Mike, "Actually, it would be a help -- I'm pretty full..."

"Well, okay..." 'Breast milk? What if I don't like it?' Mike wondered to himself -- but Linda jacked herself up and rolled a bit and suddenly he had a nipple...

"If you chew it a little ... Aaahh!" Mike got right with the program -- and Linda felt something that she felt with little Tommy -- but a lot more strongly. Her pussy clenched and got juicy! "Mmmmm! That's nice!"

Mike discovered he really couldn't have cared less about the taste -- it was fine, but it wasn't the hot part. The hot part was how Linda's nipple dribbled and oozed into his mouth in reaction to what he was doing, and how she seemed to be more and more anxious to feed him breast flesh! Linda started moving and in a moment, came out with an embarrassed, "I need to rub myself..."

Mike pushed her up off him. "Turn more to the side," he croaked. "Come at me sideways -- hands and knees..."

Linda did as she was asked, and Mike snaked a hand under her to the wet, thick lips of her gash. Her clit wasn't hard to find... "Oooohhh!" Linda moaned and shoved her nipple back at his mouth.

For the next couple of minutes, there was a lot of motion but not a lot of talk. Jolene resumed her whining grunts, Linda emitted the occasional soft, "Ooohh!" and Mike didn't SAY anything, but he sucked like a madman as the fuck got better and better...

Mike started taking an active part in the fuck -- hunching up from below into Jolene -- and that put things into the fast lane! It was everything he needed to hit his stride -- and when Jolene wailed, "Oh, Baby! Cum for mama, and let me die happy!" that pulled the pin on his climax! "HRRRRGH!" he grunted around Linda's nipple while he slammed up into Jolene from below and started spewing!

But Jolene had her own thing going! Mike had been poking her G-spot regularly -- especially once he started coming up from below -- and she was on the verge of a GIANT orgasm when Mike smashed up into her and let go! Linda, who'd been watching the black woman blankly, wrapped up in her own pleasure, saw Jolene's eyes roll up as she started shaking like a leaf! Jolene sucked in a huge breath and screamed, "WAAAAAAAAAAHHH!" and flooded the bedclothes and Mike's belly with her own juices as orgasm knocked her for a loop!

Jolene, wasted, flopped over and slid off Mike -- who, equally wasted, couldn't have cared less. But Linda hadn't finished...

Mike had stopped masturbating her -- and now, she was desperate! "P-- please..." She switched breasts. "Please suck!"

Mike didn't mind -- it was pretty pleasant -- very comforting. He started on the new nipple without complaint. Linda rubbed her clit feverishly with three fingers, urgently seeking her release, "Oh! Oh! Oh! God! Oh!" Finally, she managed it, grunting and gasping.

"Next time, you oughta fuck him, Baby. He's damn good!" Jolene advised. "A LOT better than fingers!" She turned to Mike. "Baby, if I get stupid, you just threaten not to fuck me -- I'll be good!" She crawled up next to Mike. "Are you okay, Baby? You want anything else?"

"No," Mike sighed. "Come here, Linda. Do you feel better?"

"Yes. I'm fine." She snuggled up close. "Thank you."

"Let's all get some sleep," Mike suggested.

"You're wet," Jolene pointed out, "I squirted. Sorry about that, but DAMN..."

"I'll dry," Mike replied, chuckling.

-------

Children tended to damp things. The Francke family had five: Four year old Lisa, eight year old Petra, and eighteen month old Tyler Gregory from Mickey and twelve year old Leah and ten year old Latoya from Tamara. Given the fact that Nikki and Vickie were both fifteen and not really adults in the minds of Mitch, Mickey, and Tamara, that pushed the number unofficially to seven, even though they were technically concubines and not offspring. Mitch discovered that he was in no hurry to bed either of his younger concubines -- and the older ones had their hands full.

Getting everyone settled wasn't all that easy; even given two levels, ten people in a pod was quite a few -- people had to double up. Concubines were two to a room -- Nikki and Vickie was an obvious pair, leaving Mickey and Tamara the second set of concubine quarters. Tyler got the nursery, which left three small rooms for the other four children. Surprisingly, it was Latoya Jackson and Petra Rawlins who decided to bunk in, giving little Lisa Rawlins and the older Leah Jackson their own rooms.

Tyler Gregory was initially rambunctious, then shifted to fussy -- then took a shine to Tamara, to Mickey's embarrassment. Tamara's response was, "As long as we can get him to bed..." Once he settled down a bit, that proved to be reasonably easy.

Mickey and Tamara came out of the nursery -- their last stop -- to find Mitch standing in the upstairs hallway. The subject really didn't need direct mention; all three of them knew what was up in the instant they laid eyes on one another. "I think it's me," Mickey declared after a moment.

Mitch rubbed his chin, "You've discussed it, then?"

"No, but Tamara has had sex today, and both Nikki and Vickie did the oral thing," Mickey replied. "I managed to skate..."

"Well," Mitch replied, "Nobody but Vickie has done anything directly for me, but I can see the logic. Tamara?"

The black woman shrugged. "I can wait."

"I don't seem to be generating much excitement," Mitch groused.

"It's not like that, "Mickey protested. "It's just been a long day. I'm happy to -- and God knows I owe you after what I've asked of you!"

"That'll do, I guess." Largely because of the children, Mitch had abstained from active fondling, even though his concubines had been operating nude. Now, as they turned for the grav lift, Mitch put his hand on Mickey's ass.

Mickey looked down at it, surprised. "It's pretty big," she recovered herself. Mickey had a distinct pear shape.

"Really? I just think of it as plush..." Mitch replied.

"Well, you'll want to shrink it down..."

"Not as much as you do, it sounds like," Mitch chuckled, clutching a handful.

"Well, it wasn't helping me at home..."

"This is home now," Mitch replied.

-------

At what had been her home, Mickey's erstwhile husband, Brett, was settling in for his first evening without a wife and children. He'd been bored and unhappy and felt tied-down by Mickey and the kids, but getting a visit from the police -- who apparently had a special unit for the purpose -- at the office to tell him that they were no longer his responsibility had been a shock. Later, the principal of Petra's elementary school, Mr. Purvis, called to tell him that Mickey had left him a short message. He'd played it, and Brett realized that Mickey had probably been well aware of his dissatisfaction and had set her priorities in what was probably the best direction for all of them -- but it was still more than a little bit painful.

The good news? Obviously, they weren't dead or anything. It was more like she'd suddenly moved out, taking the girls. There would be no messy divorce, no alimony, no child support. Some other guy had all of that, having bought a pig in a poke. Brett hoped that whoever the guy was, he like his women hippy, because pregnancy had bequeathed Mickey a sizeable ass. The bad news had everything to do with regret -- had he really wanted out that bad? Love wasn't ALL gone, he was only now belatedly realizing. He used to kid himself that he kept Mickey around for the cooking and cleaning and laundry; well, now he had to replace THOSE functions, too ... When had they had sex last? Three weeks ago? He hadn't been actively cheating with anyone, but he'd been operating under the impression that he COULD at any time -- and now he was going to have to act on that assumption, apparently. All in all, generally good news or not, it was a wrenching experience ... He looked around their empty house and wondered what he was going to do with all that stuff...

-------

Back in orbit, Mitch and Mickey were in the master suite of the Francke pod, slowly approaching sex as a pair of adults who knew little about one another but who now had time to learn. It was a different situation altogether from a pickup, where hurried tests of sexual compatibility were the norm...

"So, what do you like?" Mickey asked.

"I'll cop to being male," Mitch replied. "Just about anything."

"What should I do?"

"I don't know. I mean, I date -- but this isn't a date," Mitch mused. "The rules are different. If I'm dating and I want sex, I need to talk the girl out of it, usually after blowing a lot of money on her, trying to convince her that she's having a nice time with me -- and maybe I'm worth trying out, or she owes me something, at least. This seems more like marriage -- and I'm not really experienced at that. What would you do if you were feeling um, well, amorous, with your husband?"

Mickey, who had rolled up on her elbow to ask questions, frowned and drew diagrams on the sheet with her finger. "This isn't really marriage, either. The briefings are pretty clear -- you have the right to demand just about anything..."

Mitch frowned. "Okay ... That's all well and good, but I don't think it's the way to start out, do you? I'd prefer to think you're, well, cooperating, rather than just..."

"Oh, I am!" Mickey replied, "but I don't want you to think -- you shouldn't have to ask, is what I guess I'm trying to say. That's more like marriage probably was about a century ago, but it hasn't been like that in my experience. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I know I'm obligated. You shouldn't have to tiptoe around -- if you want it, it's yours, you know?"

"Yeah, well, I guess I'm trying to say that I don't want you feeling like, 'Aw shit, here he comes again to paw me... ' -- you know?"

Mickey quirked an eyebrow. "What if I like being pawed?"

"That puts a little different spin on things," Mitch admitted, grinning.

"Ill tell you what -- if I'm REALLY not into something, I'll find a way to let you know," Mickey smiled. "Then if you keep doing it, I can grouse and complain..." She pursed her lips. "Actually, that's about all I CAN do, isn't it, technically?"

"Yeah, well, hopefully, I won't discover that I just HAVE to have something that doesn't thrill you," Mitch grinned.

"Okay," Mickey nodded. "Since we sort of have ground rules now, why don't we explore a little bit?"

"Okay," Mitch leaned up to reach out to touch her. "About your ass -- did that bother you?"

"It surprised me," Mickey replied. "I'm not used to that kind of thing in public -- but it's not a problem; a lot of us are getting used to being naked in public, and being touched like that is a logical extension of that. I think it was more the fact that I don't consider my ass to be my best feature."

Mitch shrugged. "I don't consider it to be a problem."

"Really?"

"Really." Mitch ran his hand over an ass cheek, closing the distance between them to do so. "I like it. I might want to handle it a lot."

They started on mutual exploration -- not in the normal order of things. Kissing didn't start until Mitch had his middle finger inside Mickey and she had masturbated him to full erection -- and Mitch was initially a little embarrassed about it.

Mickey liked Mitch's cock -- it was hard and smooth and different than Brett's in that Brett had a considerable amount of foreskin and Mitch was circumcised. The size was probably about the same, but not having to hassle with the foreskin made Mitch's seem bigger, somehow.

Mickey had rounded breasts that sagged just enough to be clearly real and had flat spots at the areolas. They were a lot of fun to maul and the nipples perked up and the areolas wrinkled tightly as she became aroused. The nub of her clitoris got more and more prominent as she got seriously aroused and started to gasp and pant into his mouth.

Things had spun up slowly and a little strangely, but Mickey was there. "I want it!" she gasped in his ear as they finished a kiss. "Please!"

"Okay, roll on your back and..."

Mickey did as she was asked, maintaining her grip on Mitch's erection. In a moment, she was rubbing it between her labia, wetting it with her juices. Mitch adjusted his stance a bit, coming up on his elbows, and powered forward when she seated him in her entrance.

Brett had been uninterested in sex for a while, and while Mickey could go without, she'd been saving up arousal for a month. Mitch was new and interested and energetic -- and moving inside her! Yeah, this was going to work out... "Ahhh, nice!"

Mitch considered the fact that Mickey was several years older than he was a drawing card where sex was concerned. If he wanted an innocent young thing, he had two -- but if he wanted sex from a woman who arguably knew more than he did about it, Mickey and Tamara both filled the bill. Once she was hot, Mickey was no-nonsense; just as she'd described, there was no requirement to coddle her and be tentative; it was an experience Mitch had never had -- and it was VERY pleasant! She moaned and gasped and rubbed his ribs and humped up at him and made happy noises and the usual worries and concerns about whether she would be happy tomorrow or claim he'd forced her to do something she didn't want to were out the window. Mitch just plowed her, knowing from her reactions that it was the right thing to do.

Mitch's assessment of the situation was more or less dead on. Protestations that she wasn't that kind of a girl and the three date rule were long since behind Mickey. Mickey had been married for nearly a decade, and for her, sex was a pleasure that you sandwiched in between the demands of child-rearing and exhaustion -- and while the cast might have changed, she knew the play from numerous performances.

Arguably, it was sex without love -- but sex with Brett had been more about comfort than love for quite some time. At least it was new and different and they weren't just going through the motions...

Well, maybe they were -- but there were no complaints. It was strong, steady, pounding sex, that lasted maybe seven minutes -- long enough for Mickey to float through the tidal surge of orgasm twice, visibly, before Mitch grunted and crushed himself to her and gushed semen into her. It wasn't cataclysmic -- just good, very good, for both of them. And it was enough. Mitch collapsed atop her and she wrapped her arms and legs around him and it was time to sleep; they'd had their fill. Mitch KNEW she'd orgasmed -- and he'd orgasmed -- mission accomplished ... He drifted off, comfortable atop her -- and she drifted off using him as a blanket.

-------

There was probably never any question who Kiran was going to sex their first night out; questions centered more around how he would handle it. Kiran himself gave the matter quite a bit of thought after the episode of virginity discovery. Apparently, he'd been guilty of stereotyping in selecting his women -- clearly, Kellie was a spoiled brat, but she missed the stereotype for 'blonde American chick' that Kiran held by some distance. Isobel might actually meet her stereotype -- the 'good Catholic girl' one -- but it wasn't what Kiran had expected of her given her approach and manner of dress.

Amita and Sharmila, on the other hand ... Clearly, they had been fully Westernized -- and failed to meet his idealized standards for 'good Indian girls' for that reason. They were sullied -- and knew it.

Where did that leave him? The original plan had been to be brutal to the empty-headed little blonde slip in order to whip the Indian women into line -- and the Hispanic girl had been largely an afterthought -- an opportunity that had dropped into his lap. Events suggested that this was a foolish waste of valuable material, however. Certainly, he could do as he had planned -- but wreaking havoc on a virgin was a totally different proposition than doing so on a slut; abuses he'd more or less looked forward to heaping on Kellie seemed excessive. Of course, she WAS still an empty-headed blonde slip...

Kiran stopped drumming his fingers on the arm of the easy chair he was sitting in and sat up. "Slut! Sharmila! Attend me!"

All four of his women were gathered in the kitchen; Kellie dashed over with some alacrity, her knees thudding on the floor to Kiran's right when he motioned with his finger. Sharmila arrived less quickly, but before it seemed necessary to complain about it. Kiran addressed himself to Kellie, "What do you know of oral sex?"

"Um, what I learned this afternoon, Master." Kellie hadn't even finished that blow job -- they'd evacuated first.

"And anal sex?"

Kellie looked away, clearly worried. "Nothing, Master." This was probably going to suck; he was going to launch into another harangue about how utterly useless she was...

Instead, Kiran turned to Sharmila. "And you? What do you know of oral sex?" Sharmila looked furtive. "If I catch you lying..." Kiran warned.

"I have done it, Master," Sharmila admitted.

"Often? How many times?"

Sharmila hung her head. "Many. I had a relationship..."

Kiran waved it off. "How many men?"

Sharmila visibly conducted a count. "Perhaps ten, Master. Eight, at least."

"And one enjoyed your efforts enough to come back?" Kiran needled her. "How many came back a second time?"

Sharmila couldn't see anything good coming from this line of questioning, but she knew better than to lie. "Three, Master."

"A decent percentage," Kiran muttered. "And anal sex?"

Sharmila really didn't want to go there, so she hedged a bit. "None, Master."

"I think you're withholding something," Kiran grunted, "but we will pass on that for the moment. Amita!"

"Master?" Amita approached and inserted herself between the others.

"Are you experienced in anal sex?"

"Master?" Amita was clearly rocked. "No, Master."

"What about oral sex?"

"Yes, Master." Amita seemed unconcerned about what that did for her image.

"Often? Many men?"

"A few, Master," Amita replied calmly. "It is a simple way of avoiding regular sex with someone you discover is unworthy of it."

"Really..." Kiran eyed her. "I will bear THAT in mind..."

Amita blinked. "I meant no offense!"

"See that you avoid offending me in that manner," Kiran retorted. "In the meantime, how many men did you service in this manner more than once?"

"None, Master."

Kiran grunted. "So we have no objective method of determining the quality of your product. You may leave." He waved her off. Amita stood and returned to the kitchen area, confused and worried.

Kiran returned his attention to Sharmila -- but addressed the AI, "AI, can you detect truth or falsehood in a person's statements?"

"Relatively high-probability analysis is available based upon biometrics of specimens on file," the AI responded.

"Sharmila, is there anything you want to share with me before I ask the AI to analyze your answer regarding anal sex?" Kiran asked.

"Only fingers -- and toys!" Sharmila burst out.

"AI?"

"Truth."

"Very well," Kiran nodded. "You were reluctant to share that with us -- why?" he asked Sharmila.

"It's ... nasty." Sharmila replied, clearly embarrassed.

"But is it pleasurable?" Kiran pressed.

"Sometimes." Sharmila ducked her head and looked away.

Kiran let his eyes sweep all of his women, "You will find that while the truth will not set you free, it WILL insulate you somewhat from my anger. I expect open and frank answers to my questions. AI, has there been any duplicity in the recent conversation from any of my concubines?"

"No," the AI responded. "Both the one called Sharmila and the one called Amita were unprepared to provide numeric estimates of their number of sexual partners, but neither of them withheld any data."

"Excellent." Kiran eyed Sharmila. "AI, are you familiar with an object called a butt plug?"

"Affirmative."

"Can the pod's replicator produce one?"

"Affirmative. Unpowered butt plugs in particular are simple objects made of a rubbery material. This is well within the parameters of the unit. However, it might be simpler to have one delivered via the supply port."

"You have a selection? What is the delivery time?"

"Twenty-three objects specifically referred to as butt plugs exist in the catalog," the AI responded, "Delivery time would be approximately ninety seconds." A holographic display of the twenty-three plugs appeared in the air before Kiran. Sharmila, dread apparent in her features, turned to look at them over her shoulder.

"That one." Kiran pointed out a pink item with a curly rubber representation of a pig's tail affixed to it. "Please show me the item in actual size." It appeared before him, rotating slowly; it was six inches long (not counting the tail), conical, with a maximum circumference of two and a half inches before the constriction that would soon hold it in place in Sharmila's sphincter. "Perfect. Deliver one, please."

Amita snorted in mirth -- a mistake. "Make that two," Kiran amended. Amita flinched.

"Lubricant is recommended," the AI intoned.

"Not required." Kiran shifted his attention to Kellie. "On second thought, please deliver some."

"Delivery in eighty-four of your seconds," the AI informed all and sundry.

"Amita, you may collect them," Kiran directed. Turning to Sharmila, he asked, "You understand the intended lesson?"

"Yes, Master."

"As for Amita's transgression -- you are sisters -- friends -- colleagues -- lovers. You are here to support and assist one another. The discomfort of one of you should not be an occasion for mirth on the part of the others." He looked to where Amita stood before the delivery port. "I trust that is understood."

"Yes, Master." Amita looked away, clearly unhappy at being chastised. Kiran pursed his lips; apparently, his problem child would NOT be Kellie ... Turning his attention to the young blonde, he told her, "You will be giving up your virginity to me this evening. How does that make you feel?"

Given the lesson of Sharmila's fate, Kellie thought a moment and said, "Nervous. Scared. Worried ... Scared to death, Master."

Kiran essayed a crooked smile. "There is nothing positive in that list -- but then, I have not given you any reason to expect anything but ill of me, have I?"

"Well..." Kellie shrugged, "No, Master."

Kiran settled back in his chair. "Tell me what you THOUGHT you were getting into when you approached me. Did you not know what was going on?"

Kellie grimaced. "I did -- but the rules didn't apply to me, Master. They never have. Anything I ever wanted, Daddy would find a way to get for me. I believed that you would understand my social value and would naturally treat me differently. I didn't understand."

"Do you understand now?" Kiran asked.

"I think so, Master -- but I might still make mistakes." Kellie looked rueful. "Old habits die hard."

Kiran nodded. "We all make mistakes. I made a mistake in collecting you, believing from my preconceptions and a moment's contact that you were even more jaded than you are. I may have made a mistake in not collecting your companion -- but that is another tale." He waved his hand before her. "This is done. You are no longer handicapped in my eyes by your race and your hair color and your early foolishness. You are as the others -- no more, but no less. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master!" The future assumed a much brighter aspect than it had a moment before.

"We cannot repair your mistake -- I cannot and will not return you to the care of your father. However, we can move on," Kiran told her. "I value the gift that you will be presenting me with tonight. It will be received with proper ceremony, not torn from you. I hope this eases your mind somewhat and allows you to look forward to it with less fear." He turned to regard Amita, "Have they arrived?"

"Yes, Master."

"Bring them to me."

Amita brought over the two butt plugs and the tube of lubricant, inserting herself again between Kellie and Sharmila to present them. Kiran waved her away and repositioned Kellie by pointing to the left side of the chair, then told Sharmila, "Turn to your right and raise your ass."

Sharmila, fearing the worst, did as she was told. Kiran did not lubricate the plug -- but neither did he jam it into her. Instead, he was conversational while he toyed with her anus, probing it, then backing off, then probing it again. "So, you enjoy anal sex play?"

"Sometimes," Sharmila admitted, tensely. "When it is not painful."

"And you've had fingers and toys, is that right? What kinds of toys?" Kiran asked.

"Small ones," Sharmila croaked. "Vibrators..."

"You need to relax," Kiran chided. "You know that it will help if you do. I do not plan to jam this in."

"I..." Sharmila took a breath. "Thank you, Master. Knowing that helps." She began to visibly work at relaxation. Kiran switched hands so he could rub her clitoris and labia with his right hand while continuing to tease her anus with the butt plug held in his left. "Does this help?"

Sharmila gasped softly, "Yes, Master. That helps."

The process went on for several minutes. Kellie watched avidly as Kiran slowly got Sharmila to accept more and more of the plug, sliding it deeper and deeper, but always halting before the discomfort became too great. Sharmila cooperated, enjoying the masturbation visibly, moaning softly, fidgeting, and shifting a bit from time to time -- but not impeding Kiran in any way. Finally, they were as close as Kiran felt they were going to get, so he forced the plug past Sharmila's resisting anal ring so that it seated with only the curly pig tail showing. Sharmila limited herself to a quiet groan. "Crawl around and position yourself on my right," Kiran directed. "Do not expel the plug!" Sharmila did as she was told. Kiran turned and addressed Amita, "Come here."

Amita settled before Kiran, positioning herself as Sharmila had -- but Kiran had a surprise for her. Handing her the plug, he snapped, "Since you have no regard for the pains of your sisters in bondage, I have none for yours. Insert the plug yourself -- and be quick about it!"



-------

Chapter 8


The next several minutes were extremely painful and embarrassing for Amita. In the first place, inserting anything in one's own ass is somewhat awkward. In the second, the butt plug's maximum diameter was a challenge. In the third, Kiran became rapidly impatient and tended to impede Amita by swatting her on the ass -- theoretically to goad her to further effort, but it had the opposite effect, since she would clench both before and during a swat. Amita was crying openly by the time she succeeded in burying the plug in her ass. "Isobel!" Kiran directed, "Take her to her quarters and watch her. The plug is NOT to be removed without my explicit permission!"

"Yes, Master."

"And YOU!" Kiran spurned Amita with a foot. "Crawl!" He gathered the other pair with his eyes. "That one is trouble -- well beyond what I expected YOU to be!" he told Kellie. "See that you learn from her!" He directed the pair to resume their earlier positions, side-by-side before him, with finger waves. "Sharmila, you are here to provide the benefit of your experience to S--, er, Kellie, so that she may please me. You will teach her what she needs to know -- demonstrate, show her, help her -- ease her transition into full womanhood. Do you understand this task?"

"Yes, Master. I believe so," Sharmila nodded.

"Excellent. You may ask questions and obtain clarification at any time -- do not guess. Do you both understand?"

"Yes, Master." It was a chorus.

"I will now stand. Remove my clothing, then begin with oral sex." Kiran rose and the women rose also to get at his clothing, after which he reseated himself. "Begin."

"Master, if you could bring yourself forward a bit and spread your legs widely, it would help us..." Sharmila requested tentatively. Kiran did as she asked; the chair surprised him by modifying itself to support him in the new position. Sharmila drew Kellie forward. "I will test the waters for a moment while you watch," she told the blonde girl. "Master, please tell me if I do anything that you do not enjoy."

"Proceed," Kiran intoned.

Sharmila began by licking the head and the underside of Kiran's erection, jacking back the foreskin so she could get at the frenum. With her other hand, she very gently rolled his testicles between her fingers. Kiran gave a grunting sigh of approval -- yes, Sharmila knew what she was doing. She pursed her lips and pressed them over his glans, keeping the ring tight, sliding them over his shaft while her tongue took over the job of teasing the underside of his glans. She applied suction -- not too much -- just enough to collapse her cheeks in over her teeth. She took him in several times to a depth comfortable for her, reversing each time until she was kissing his glans, then backed off.

"You are accomplished," Kiran approved. "That was very good!"

Sharmila ducked her head, embarrassed. "I enjoy it, Master." Kiran nodded and waved, and Sharmila spent the next several minutes talking Kellie through duplicating her efforts. When Kellie seemed to get the hang of it, Sharmila added, "There are other things -- if I wanted to drink Master's seed, I would give him a prostate massage -- but since we are preparing you to lose your virginity..."

Kiran waved. "It is probably better if I am not suffering from any immediate urgency. You may teach this, too. Kellie, you will collect my seed -- swallow it and do not spill any, as it is an insult to me to do so. Do you understand?"

Kellie nodded around his erection.

"Continue as you are," Sharmila directed. "Master, please forgive the invasion..." She wet a finger in her mouth and began probing Kiran's ass.

She was gentle and Kiran cooperated; soon, he was getting flashes of sensation from her buried finger. "Master, may I ask a boon?" Sharmila asked. "May we share your seed?"

"Yessss..." Kiran croaked. Both of his women were doing magical things. "Watch this," Sharmila told Kellie, and ran a fingernail along the line from below Kiran's anus to his testicles.

"AAAAAHHGHHH!" Kiran howled and lurched up, grabbing Kellie's head while his cock suddenly swelled and erupted in her mouth. Sharmila's finger continued to stimulate his prostate while e pulsed and pulsed...

"MMMPH!" Kellie grunted. Her mouth was filling! Kiran somehow managed to loosen his grip on her head and Sharmila murmured, "Back off a little. Swallow -- but save me some..." Kellie backed off a bit and strained some of the thick goo through her teeth and swallowed in, holding some in reserve. The taste was odd, meaty, like an odd gravy; it probably wasn't anything she would want to eat regularly, but it wasn't intolerable. Kiran let up and she suckled his glans, her lips ringing the base, while he panted and groaned, finally flopping back.

Sharmila withdrew her gooey finger from his rectum; he would be satisfied for an hour or so, she estimated, after that ejaculation. Hopefully, she hadn't ruined young Kellie's defloration...

Kiran waved at Kellie. "Give her her gift."

Kellie sat on her heels, trying to figure out how; Sharmila smiled and murmured, "Just kiss me, child, and pass it with your tongue." She leaned in, holding her gooey hand out to one side, and collected Kellie's lips. Kellie, embarrassed, tried her best to make it just a transfer, but the older woman insisted on sliding her tongue into her mouth and holding her head so she couldn't escape with her clean hand. Kellie waved her hands until she heard Kiran chuckle, then relaxed; apparently, he had no problem with what was going on, so she could only get into trouble by not cooperating.

When Sharmila had collected all she was going to, she backed off. "Thank you."

"Go wash and come back," Kiran ordered Sharmila brusquely, then pulled Kellie to him. "You did very well. Settle against me -- I wish to explore you." Kellie found herself on his lap, leaning against his left side, braced by the chair arm -- which adjusted to conform to her -- while his hands traced her breasts and her belly. The other chair arm melted away, allowing her to shift her legs and sit sideways "The furniture is amazing," Kiran observed mildly.

"Yes..."

"Spread your legs." Kiran ruffled the trimmed fluff on her mons. "So you are really blonde -- or is your beautician very thorough?"

"I'm ... really blonde." His fingers drifted over her labia and the hood of her clitoris; it was insane, after what she had seen of his ruthlessness, but she wanted his touch. There was something in his attitude -- something disturbingly like Daddy ... Daddy was a 'Person of Power' as Kellie thought of it -- and she had seen him deal with people many times the way Kiran did -- not generally in a sexual way, but with the same basic manner; if you made a mistake, you paid for it -- and it tended to be either embarrassing or painful or both. Kellie had sat in Daddy's lap while he had dealt with subordinates many times -- and he could be stern, but he always appeared to be detached about the whole thing. And while Daddy had never, EVER touched Kellie sexually, she'd seen him deal with women -- and his methods were amazingly similar to Kiran's. Sometimes she wondered if he arranged for her to eavesdrop on him when he was breaking in some woman who thought he was her ticket to the easy life -- it was, after all, so simple to use the key Daddy had given her to let herself in the little side door that bypassed his secretary's office and sneak into the little closet that opened both from the bathroom of his office suite and the office itself -- that closet with the conveniently louvered doors ... Sitting on Kiran's lap brought on a sort of déjà vu -- she was one of Daddy's playthings -- and she was not. She was watching from the closet as he explored an acquisition and took possession of her -- and she was sitting on his lap.

Kiran was exploring the differences. "Pink nipples," he muttered. "I'm not used to those ... They look ... tender." He took Kellie's left nipple between his thumb and forefinger and Kellie stiffened, but he merely rolled it between them -- and it stiffened and lengthened and the areola around it tightened and crinkled just like on his other women.

Kellie swallowed and pulled in a breath, surprised at the sensations. Kiran was right; the Indian women both had brown nipples -- even Isobel, did, despite her fairer skin. Isobel was thinner, but had a lot in common with Donna, actually. Kellie was no longer under the illusion that her looks were ever going to be anything but a handicap with her new master -- but being different MIGHT help her achieve some kind of parity if she could please him in other ways. "They're just a little different in color, I imagine," she gasped. His cock was getting hard again, against her hip; she reached down and unfurled it.

"You seemed tentative with Sharmila," Kiran muttered, fondling her breast.

"Yes," Kellie agreed. "I don't do that sort of thing..." Suddenly, she remembered the AI, "Well, not around guys, anyway. I didn't want you to get the wrong idea."

"What idea would that be?" Kiran asked.

Kellie, sensing a trap, replied carefully, "That I was more interested in girls than in guys."

"Have you much experience with women?" Kiran asked.

"Some," Kellie admitted. "It was, um, a game, sort of, sometimes..." This was as close as she wanted to come to admitting that she'd occasionally made one of her sycophants pay her dues between her legs.

Kiran chuckled. He got it -- and didn't feel any need to abuse her over it, for the moment. It wasn't a surprise, after all -- he'd have done similar in her place. "Good. I plan to have Sharmila assist in relaxing you. Clearly, we won't be further unnerving you by introducing you to anything new." He lowered his hand to her vulva and wormed a finger between her nether lips, moving it up and down the pink inner core of her; Kellie began to moisten immediately.

Sharmila returned. Before she could settle to her knees before him, Kiran directed her, "Turn around." The pig-tail was still there, pointing down. Kiran frowned. "Kneel where you were for the insertion of your tail," he directed. Sharmila knelt and turned side-on to the chair. "Turn the opposite way," Kiran corrected. Sharmila did so; this left her facing to Kiran's right. "Correct the tail," Kiran instructed Kellie, "I want it pointing up."

The instruction was SOOO 'Daddy'; many times he'd had her on his lap and had he do some little thing to add to someone's humiliation. Kellie didn't even think about it -- she just reached out...

"Try not to make it too uncomfortable for her," Kiran added as her hand settled on the pink rubber tail.

"Yes, D-- um, Master," Kellie replied dutifully and set about determining just how tightly the plug was stuck. It WOULD rotate; Kellie gently twisted it back and forth until it seemed to be adequately free to rotate, then turned it to the desired position. Sharmila limited herself to a couple of quiet grunts.

"Is that unpleasant?" Kiran asked.

"Well, er, not terribly..." Sharmila admitted.

"I think she enjoyed it," Kiran chuckled, making a motion for Kellie to move the tip in a circle without rotating it, an action that would tend to stretch Sharmila's anal opening a bit. Kellie did so, gingerly, and Sharmila groaned. "Yes, I'm sure of it. More later, perhaps." He released Kellie, prompting her to stand. "We will retire to my suite, now." Taking Kellie's hand in his left and Sharmila's in his right, he led them to the bedroom.

-------

"Mr. Wentworth," said Michael, Joseph Jeremiah Wentworth II's assistant, entered the room, "The police commissioner is on the telephone with some ... disturbing news."

J. J. Wentworth didn't get calls from beat cops -- for anything. "How disturbing, Michael?"

"I really don't know, Sir." Michael kept his job by not exposing himself unnecessarily.

J. J. grunted and punched the button. "Good evening, Paul. What can I do for you?"

"Well, J. J., this is good news or bad, solely based upon your opinion of it," Paul returned, "but I figured that I should relay it. There was a pickup at one of the malls today -- the little bakery café at the one off Fortieth. Kellie was extracted."

J. J. grunted. He'd been trying for three months to organize a pickup for Kellie; the plan was for her to go out with a bright young man in R & D whose family was firmly in J. J.'s pocket, thereby granting Kellie significantly more control over her situation than the data indicated that most concubines had. This ... this was unexpected. "Do you have any details?"

"I had an investigation done," Paul Barkleigh, replied, "and delayed things for a couple of hours in order to have something for you. Witnesses said she presented herself to a young fellow of Indian extraction -- and that he was somewhat ruthless in bringing her to heel."

Wentworth frowned. "How ruthless?"

"She was somewhat insistent in pressing her case," Paul replied. "The man accepted her, then directed her to remove her clothing. She gave him some lip and he slapped her around some, first for disobedience, then for poor attitude. Then he had her, um, fellate him."

Wentworth grunted again. "I was hoping to avoid that scenario."

"It's not unusual for a sponsor to make a new concubine pay for her ride up front, J. J.," Paul murmured.

"I know," Wentworth sighed. "I'd hoped to put her out with a somewhat more malleable sponsor."

"For the record, I don't believe anything but her pride was injured."

"Given the circumstances, that would be an event certain to occur, anyway," J. J. actually chuckled. He had conducted quite a bit of research on extractions and had few illusions. "What about the Eggers girl?"

"She was also extracted -- by another male of Indian extraction," Paul replied.

"Can you forward me the report? I'll need names. Who can I talk to in order to get a grip on this?"

"You can't get her back, J. J.," Paul warned. "It just doesn't happen."

"I just want to talk to her and her sponsor -- that's all. I'll want to do what I can for her. At least she managed to get picked up..."

"I'd start at the embassy, I guess," Paul told him.

"Thanks, Paul. Shoot me the details ASAP, will you?"

"Certainly," Paul replied, and hung up.

"Get me the Confederacy Ambassador," J. J. directed Michael, "and get me that report!"

-------

Sharmila was busy, jacking Kiran's erection while licking and sucking Kellie's clitoris and pink split. Kiran had actually been there for a bit, but had moved up to engage Kellie's lips and breasts. It seemed to be working; Kellie was wet and wriggling...

For Kellie, things were a lot different than that ugly scene at her pickup. Kiran was being extremely attentive and gentle and Kellie would have been aroused in any case -- but Sharmila was playing her pussy like a violin! Kellie's fears that Kiran would climb atop her and shred her hymen while she screamed in agony -- the scenario suggested by her pickup -- were set aside; Kiran was approaching her defloration as a rite of courtship. Kellie was under no illusions -- it was her great good luck that she had never deigned to allow some boy to take her virginity; if she had, Kiran would no doubt have used her and abused her and tossed her aside like a toy -- preferably broken. This was her opportunity to achieve parity with the other women in her little family -- and she wanted to be successful, whatever it took. Fortunately, it appeared that all she REALLY had to do was relax and enjoy Kiran's ministrations...

The possibility that it was more complicated than that occurred to her -- but holding herself off seemed unwise at the very least. Sadly, she had no idea how any of the others were going to react to Kiran's advances, so there was no way to guess at what point she would go beyond pleasing him over her responses and end up confirming his 'blonde slut' stereotype. What she DID have was Sharmila -- who had some interesting kinks, apparently -- and who, with any luck, would give Kellie some latitude by comparison.

Beyond a certain point, over-analysis led to a lack of response -- something Kellie didn't think was a good idea -- so she went with the flow. If things went anywhere NEAR according to plan, this wouldn't be the last time Kiran inserted himself in her vagina; to do anything that might keep him from looking forward to it was just stupid! Kiran was the master -- the boss -- not just some guy who wanted to have a party between her legs. The usual analysis of whether he was good enough to be there was out the window, anyway -- he was the ONLY one authorized! That being the case, Kellie looked to the up-side of the situation.

There was plenty of it. Kiran was doing better than a lot of girls at tripping her trigger. His hands on her breasts explored and teased and manipulated, rather than groping and his mouth was hot and spicy on hers, his tongue frisky and demanding. Thank God she hadn't picked that ugly little man with the tobacco stains all over him ... She found herself caressing him, feeling his muscles ripple under his skin as he moved against her. Sharmila's hot mouth on her clit was almost unbearable, it was so good -- but arousal in the presence of a man brought other imperatives...

Sharmila smiled as she released Kiran's cock; Kellie had both hands on it, caressing it and sliding back the foreskin to palm the knob with her other hand. Kiran's grunted reaction was all either woman needed to know that Kellie's efforts were effective. Sharmila concentrated her full attention on Kellie.

When Kellie took his cock in her hands and began to rub the soft, bulbous head, Kiran seemed to try to devour her, his lips and tongue urgent, aggressive, while his hands turned her nipples into electrified spikes! As for his cock, it felt wonderful in her hands -- smooth and silky, but hard...

Kiran backed off to pant, "I must have you! Are you ready?"

"Yes!" Kellie gasped back -- and meant it!

Sharmila got out of the way as Kiran rolled atop the young blonde. Kellie positioned him at her opening herself, rubbing his glans along the pink valley of her cleft and poising him at her opening. Kiran rose to a bolt- upright position, his hands on either side of her at breast level; her hands rubbed his shoulders, once he was in place. Looking deep into her eyes, he snapped his hips, burying himself inside her.

The pain there was unmistakable; she flinched and gasped and shuddered. Kiran held himself in place with just his glans buried inside her, waiting for her to relax.

She was shredded -- there was no mistaking the sensation. Something too big to fit had entered her, tearing away at the barrier to her opening. It burned -- but he stopped, thankfully, to allow her to get control of the pain and her reaction to it. Seeking reassurance, she looked up at him through eyes wet from the pain, "Now is the good part, right?"

Sharmila answered for Kiran, "He needs to move. It will probably continue to sting for a while, but it will get better. Continued arousal helps -- may I masturbate her?"

"Yes," Kiran approved. He pressed a bit and Kellie's inner walls spread for him, then he backed out to his original position. Kellie gave a whining grunt and closed her eyes, but reopened them when he stopped.

"Go on," she husked. Yeah, it hurt, but it wasn't killing her. There was this odd itchiness to it -- and a familiar undercurrent to the pain. "Just a little..."

Kiran did as he had done before -- once, twice. He was doing more damage, but the impact of it was tailing off as the tissue separated enough to allow less restricted movement. Her hymen parting like canvas before his sword of love as it sliced through. Kellie, her eyes glazed as she focused her attention on the site of their joining gave an unconscious nod; he was abrading the raw edges of the barrier, but not tearing it further. Kiran pushed into her again, going for more depth -- and the feel of him spreading her inner walls was more important to her than the sting of his passage past her torn barrier. "Yesss," she husked, "Do it..."

Kiran smiled and rocked slowly deeper into the young blonde. Kellie was his first virgin -- his first conquest. He could pound like a wild thing in experienced, used cunts -- and he had a pair to choose from. Kellie would welcome his manhood in time as other women did -- but it would be more welcome if he took his time now, making certain that arousal superseded her pain. He took a half-dozen slowly accelerating strokes to bury himself fully inside her, then slowly ratcheted up the pace and the power.

Kellie found herself handling it easily. She'd seen porn flicks; she knew that he was taking it easy. His care and concern eased her fears; it would be all right -- he would treat her well, as long as she didn't act stupid. Kiran was like Daddy; other people's opinions might not be important, but his were -- and life was good as long as he was happy. Sharmila's fingers on her clit were nice, but she didn't think she needed them to orgasm. "Yesss," she panted, staring up at him. "Go."

Released, Kiran moved on to look for the stroke that met his needs. Kellie was there, the first of his women; they were past the point of care and moving on to the joining that brought mutual pleasure. He began to power into her, his arousal overriding his care.

Things became actively dangerous for Sharmila's fingers as the couple's pubic bones began to bash one another. She tried to get back in there, but it just didn't seem possible any more...

"Sharmila," Kellie panted. "It's okay..."

Kiran wasn't satisfied. He wanted his hot blonde concubine to scream in orgasm! "Take her breasts!" he directed tersely.

There wasn't room between Kellie's head and the head of the bed for Sharmila -- but Kiran buried himself, grasped Kellie's hips, and tugged her down a foot, then resumed his attack on her recently virginal cunt. Sharmila gingerly inserted herself between Kellie's head and the headboard, kneeling and taking the blonde's head on her thighs, and took the young blonde's nipples between her fingers, milking them gently. Somewhat to her amazement, the solid surface behind her plumped and softened to support her back while avoiding the protruding tail.

Kellie felt as though her nipples were Tesla coils, throwing fat arcing sparks between each other and her clitoris! Kiran's cock was just amazing, sliding along her inner walls, smashing against her opening and her clitoris and pumping up her arousal like a balloon -- one that kept growing and growing, and Kellie suddenly realized what would happen when it burst...

She couldn't stop it -- and she CERTAINLY didn't WANT to! She began rocking her pelvis up to meet Kiran's aggressive pounding, matching her surfaces to his on impact to maximize their pleasure. It was coming ... it was coming ... It was... "WWAAAAAAAAAHHH!" she screamed, her eyes rolling up so that only the whites showed as a HUGE orgasm blasted over her! "EEEE! EEEE! EEEE! EEEE!" she screeched, clutching the surprised Kiran with all four limbs as her vagina tried it's damnedest to suck his cock inside her!

Kiran, taken totally by surprise by the fierceness of her explosion, erupted inside her in long, fire-hose pulses, milked by her tight, churning inner walls. "AAAAAHGH!!!" Sharmila would have been surprised if she'd seen the size of the flood; after the prostate massage, where Kiran could have gotten another load like that wasn't clear. But it wasn't a normal night and it wasn't a normal fuck -- and Kiran had plenty of resources stored up, since bachelorhood meant a regular dearth of sex.

Sharmila's arms impeded Kiran's access to Kellie's face -- but her brown-nippled breasts were right in his face for the same reason, so he collected a nipple between his lips and suckled and nibbled on it. Sharmila gasped and groaned and a tiny peak surged through her in sympathy -- not a full-blown orgasm, but a flash of pleasure.

In a moment, Kellie and Kiran quit straining to merge themselves at the crotch. Kiran released Sharmila's nipple and settled back, while Kellie unwrapped her legs from around him. "Get us something to clean ourselves with," Kiran directed Sharmila, who eased herself out from under Kellie's head and padded off to do his bidding. "That was the good part," Kiran smiled at Kellie.

"Yes." Kellie's return smile had a certain Mona Lisa flavor to it.

"So. You are a woman now -- my woman," Kiran declared.

"Yes." Kellie paused a moment before adding, "Master."

Kiran chuckled. This one ... this one had made considerable ground in the past half-day. Some of the others had better watch out...

-------

Things were perhaps less than optimal for the Parsupula family. Of his four women, two were very definitely aunties; although Anne had always held a certain fascination for Sanket, she was less than stunning, nude, and Inez was, well, portly, to put things gently Could Sanket bring himself to sex Anne? Very definitely. Was it the right thing to do at this moment? Perhaps not. As for Inez, she was the result of an unthinking moment of generosity -- one that could backfire on both of them if Kiran displayed his usual dismissive attitude toward non-Indian women and made all of their lives miserable by abusing Inez's daughter. Better she didn't know if she couldn't help...

As for Rachana, she was ... damaged. This was Sanket's fault, more than anything else; he'd been the one who decided to teach her a lesson by requiring her to open herself to a procession of strangers during the pickup. Now, she was physically sore -- and that didn't even begin to approximate her mental condition. They couldn't have sex, for multiple reasons, physical, mental, and emotional -- but if Sanket had sex with someone else, what it would do to Rachana made the idea difficult to contemplate.

That left Donna -- whom, he'd discovered, was a virgin. Sexing Donna, given her situation and Rachana's would quite possibly traumatize Rachana for life -- despite the fact that Donna appeared to be more than willing and was currently the most desirable of Sanket's women. Therefore, on his first night as a sponsor, with four women technically available for him to vent his lusts upon, he was looking at sleeping alone.

Inez approached him. "We should talk."

Sanket eyed her. "All right." What new demand would she make?

"Tell me about Rachana."

Sanket sighed. "I love her -- but she conspired with her family to make negotiations for her hand in marriage difficult for me -- not because she did not wish to be my bride, but because she wanted to ensure that she would not have to fulfill the traditional Indian role. She wanted concessions from me --Western concessions of my authority as a husband. I was willing to grant these -- but she wanted to tease me and humiliate me and took some pleasure from it. Then we were picked up -- and she revealed the game she had been playing. I was angry -- if she wanted to be a Western woman, she could be a Western slut, I decided, and required her to offer her virginity -- and sex -- to others. It was foolish of me, but pride led me astray."

Somewhat to Sanket's surprise, Inez nodded sagely. "My culture has similar customs -- and our men are probably even more susceptible to pride. Rachana got what she deserved for her silliness -- but if you love her, the damage must now be mended. She is ruined, in her own eyes; her life is ruined. Her foolishness has destroyed her. I have spoken with her and she does not blame you -- she knows that she played stupid games with you and must pay for them. But if you spurn her now, her life is over -- and she may decide to take it."

"I have no intention of spurning her!" Sanket protested.

"She does not know that," Inez replied gently. "It is up to you to tell her, before things go any further. Sex is unwise, due to the number of men who have had her, if nothing else -- but she needs your comfort. I do not think that Rachana is very ... sexual. The episode today presents an additional problem. She will love you and she will do her duty as your woman and she will make a fine mother -- but you will need to turn to others for satisfaction, regularly. Sex with Rachana will be for procreation. Fortunately, you have three other outlets -- Rachana will accept this, probably with some relief, since it is the culture in which we now all operate. To a certain extent, she will see it as her ongoing punishment for her foolishness, but because everyone else must tolerate it, she will not be unnecessarily humiliated." She pursed her lips. "This is my advice; tonight is not a night for sex -- either with Rachana or with another. You are the man and this is your decision, but I advise against it. You must comfort and accept Rachana, without sex. If you turn to another for relief -- you are the man, and much is being asked of you -- I recommend that it be away from Rachana and that you limit yourself to a woman's mouth. While she will come to welcome it, if Rachana sees you placing another woman before her sexually after her ordeal, it will add to her injury. If you take oral service from a woman without giving her pleasure, it is better than nothing, but still not good."

"I thank you for your counsel," Sanket murmured, thoughtful. "What if Rachana offers me sex?"

Inez thought about it. "Take what she offers, but demand no more. If it pains her too much, find a way to stop without humiliating her, if possible. She may choose to service you orally as an act of penitence -- accept that and find a way to give her your seed no matter how poorly she does it." After a moment's further thought, she added, "It is all right to ... press her a bit for your pleasure under those circumstances. She will feel better about being directly punished."

Sanket nodded. "Thank you. Send the others to bed."

Inez nodded. "If you would like, I could make myself available in case something goes poorly -- although I'm not certain how we could do this without..."

The AI interrupted, "Everything that transpires may be relayed to the one called Inez's quarters based upon your authorization. A concubine cannot do this for a sponsor, but she can in order to supervise children. The effect would be the same as what you would call a baby monitor."

"For tonight, then," Sanket agreed, nodding. "Thank you."

"This is my new job, and I do it happily," Inez smiled. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Sanket turned and headed for Rachana's quarters.



-------

Chapter 9


Elias Whitcomb sat wondering what the fuck he was going to do with his fucking zoo. That's how he thought of them -- 'my fucking zoo' -- harem didn't seem to fit, since half of them looked like they'd come from the dog pound. Take Sue -- she probably came from a pig farm, now that he thought about it -- what the fuck had he been thinking when he took in that collection of charity cases? Why hadn't he just gone with Grandma behind the counter -- the one who'd tried to piss in his cornflakes over his smoking in her little sanctum? Shit, he couldn't fucking smoke now, anyway...

Recognizing one source of his agitation, he popped a stick of nicotine gum in his mouth. 'I sure as shit hope those nanobots do their job, ' he thought. On Earth, if he'd taken up the gum, he'd have probably ended up chewing it all the time, and paying whatever ridiculous price it cost -- while smoking; he was that addicted. With any luck, he would be cleaned up in a few days, for the first time in well over a decade -- but what would he do with his hands? "Pinch titties," he muttered to himself, chuckling.

Maybe that was why he'd collected those losers -- drowned in tobacco smoke as he was, he didn't deserve the good stuff. Oh, he'd stuck his dick in Alicia, but she was a smoker, too, so he didn't feel that bad about it -- but Denise and Shelley? He wasn't gonna make much of a first impression, even though he felt a little better already and the smoky tinge was receding from his fingernails. The three of them were sitting along the bar in the kitchen, watching him watch them and undoubtedly thinking the same fucking thing he was.

Well, there was more than one fucking way to skin a cat... "Hey, AI, connect me to the other pod, willya?"

"Connected."

"Hey, you three fuck-ups -- can you hear me?"

In the next pod, all three women gasped in surprise. Penney McBride managed to squeak, "Yes!"

"All of you get a shower and clean up and shave your pits or whatever -- I'll be over in an hour or so -- got me?"

"Y--yes." This was Beth Savage.

"Awright. Get on with it. AI, cut the connection."

"Cut."

Elias eyed the occupants of his current pod. "Awright, I'm gonna wash up and go to the zoo for a visit while the four of us have something in common. Y'all stay the fuck out of trouble and I'll see you in the morning." He got up and ambled out.

"What do you figure THAT's all about?" Shelley Nakahara wondered aloud.

Denise eyed her. "Ever wonder what he thinks of himself?"

"Well, he's not much to look at," Shelley muttered.

"Right -- but he rates six women," Denise replied. "What's important about him doesn't show when you look at him. Surely you don't think HE doesn't know that..."

"Yeah, well, there's the awful tobacco thing..." Shelley wrinkled her nose.

Alicia frowned, but Denise nodded. "Yeah, there's that, too. How many women do you figure he's dated that looked as good as one of us?"

"Without money in his hand?" Alicia grunted, "Zero."

"Exactly," Denise agreed. "The only way he could justify picking us up to himself is as babysitters for the other three."

"So he picked them up so he could pick us up?" Shelley queried.

"That's part of it. The flip side is he thinks they're what he deserves," Dense insisted. "We're gravy. Alicia's the crossover, because she smokes. He can about half-justify her to himself. You and I, though, he passed up tonight because he doesn't feel he deserves us. So he'd gonna go next door and fuck one of them because he feels like that's what he ought to be doing -- especially since he's already fucked Alicia."

"Well," Alicia retorted, "We'll be fucking again, smoke or no smoke. The little bastard may think he's Napoleon, but Napoleon had women, too -- and he can sure fuck!"

"Well, who knows?" Denise muttered. "He might end up a general! God knows he's some kind of genius..."

"Well, I'm still just as happy that I don't have to go to bed with him tonight," Shelly replied.

"He knows it -- that's why he's in showering," Denise told her. "Bet on it."

Shelley nodded, frowning. Genius he might be, she didn't see herself kissing him. That mouth had to taste like a whole dumpster full of ashtrays ... She would suck his dick if she had to -- but she would probably be able to blow smoke rings while doing it!

-------

Elias wasn't analyzing his behavior -- but he WAS showering, and asking the AI what there was available that might take the smoke out of his pores and his breath. "Your treatment is proceeding," the AI replied. "The deepest damage is under repair. The surface wash you are undertaking will remove more than normal, both due to the detergents in use and the fact that the smoke is being unbound from your tissues. You will be cleaner than you have been in several of your years when you emerge from the shower."

"Teeth?" Elias queried.

"The powered brush and abrasive paste on the sink will be more effective than anything you are used to," the AI replied. "A diagram will be presented to assist you in tracking the results of your brushing efforts."

"Great." Why he was going to all this effort for those sweathogs next door wasn't clear, but he felt that it needed doing. Besides, maybe by the end of the week he could spread that little Jap bitch without feeling like he was shooting her full of pond scum. As for the hot brunette with the sweet ass, well, at some point he was going to have to prong the poor thing to keep the questions down -- but exactly when he was going to dredge up the gall to do it wasn't clear...

-------

Next door, the women were feverishly following instructions -- but that led to questions... "How on Earth do I shave?" Sue wondered aloud.

"Devices are available for hair removal," the AI picked up the largely rhetorical question, "but you do not have permission to remove any."

"Um," Beth disagreed, "he said we should shave our armpits, actually."

"Correction noted. There is an epilator under the sink," the AI replied. "There was no direct reference to 'shaving pits' in the database."

"Can I use that thing on my face?" Sue asked as Beth retrieved the device, which looked something like an electric shaver.

"You do NOT have permission to do that -- merely the armpits," the AI argued. "It will not operate anywhere not specifically allowed by your sponsor. You are not allowed to make body alterations without his permission."

"You don't understand!" Sue whined, "He's REALLY gonna want me to shave..."

"You may request permission."

"Please?"

Elais was staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror when the AI announced, "There is a question regarding unwanted facial hair..."

Elias blinked. He had a little tuft below his lip, but in general, his pink cheeks resembled those of a sixteen-year-old, to his dismay. "Mine?"

"One of your concubines."

"Oh." Elias grimaced. "Don't tell me which one. Yeah, they can shave."

The women had been allowed to overhear. "What about legs?" Penny clarified. "Do you have a problem with that, AI?"

"The question of the lower limbs has arisen," the AI relayed to Elias.

"Um, look, let 'em take off any hair they think helps 'em look better," Elias grunted.

Penny wasn't satisfied. "What about pubic hair?"

"You have your response," the AI replied. "Your sponsor has released all body hair to your care."

"Yes, but pubic hair is a matter that he might want to think about separately," Penny insisted. "I need to talk to him.

"Specific guidance regarding pubic hair has been requested," the AI relayed.

"Huh," Elias grunted. "Tell 'em..."

"They would like to communicate directly."

"Awright."

"Master Elias..." Penny ventured.

Elias snorted. 'Master', he thought. 'Like the title grants me the right to own six cunts. It's like calling me Farmer Brown so I can own pigs. Well, even a pig farmer can own thoroughbreds, I guess... ' "Yeah?"

"Do you have a preference regarding pubic hair?"

"Shave it off. No, wait a minute. Surprise me -- but don't do anything permanent -- having a bald cunt just makes most women look like porno movie sluts -- and one or two of ya could probably do with a leg up, so we'll want to be able to reverse it..."

"Should legs, armpits, and unwanted facial hair be reversible?" the AI asked.

"Uh, no," Elias chuckled. "They should leave the stuff on their heads, though..." He shook his head, chuckling.

The AI cut off communication. "You have your answers." Sue shrugged and popped her eyes and they moved on...

-------

Forty minutes later, a squeaky clean Elias stood outside the door of his second pod. "Are y'all in there?"

"Yes..." Beth answered for the trio. "Why don't you just come in?"

"Ain't gonna go like that," Elias replied. "Y'all stay out of sight until I'm inside the bedroom and the lights are off. Then one of you can blow me and one of you can shove a tit in my face -- and when I tell ya, one of you climb on and fuck. I really don't wanna know who is who at this point. Y'all settle it out yourselves -- I just want to blow a nut in somebody's twat -- understand?"

"Um, okay..." Beth answered. The women shared a bemused glance.

"Awright, get out of sight!"

There ensued a short Chinese fire drill while the women got out of the main room, ending up, curiously, in the bathroom. Elias stood outside, tapping his foot. "Are they ready?" he asked the AI.

"Ready!" Beth relayed for the women.

"This instant intercom thing is pretty cool at least," Elias muttered, letting himself in.

In the bathroom, the women started trying to sort things out. "Now what?" asked Penny nervously.

"There were three jobs," Beth muttered.

"There were?" Sue started counting on her fingers. "What were they?"

Beth rolled her eyes. "He wants a blow job. He wants to play with somebody's titties. And he wants to ... fuck." She couldn't think of a better word for it, since a blow job was sex...

"Okay," Sue nodded, obviously fixing the tasks in her mind.

Penny wrung her hands. "I don't..."

"You don't what?" Beth eyed her.

"Well, any of it, actually."

"You've never had sex?" Beth asked, incredulous.

"No."

"Never given a blow job..."

"Uh uh."

"Me, neither," Sue piped up.

"You're kidding, right?" Beth swept her eyes back and forth between the other two.

"I'm not exactly prime stuff, you know," Sue grumped.

"Penny?" Beth shifted her attention back to the narrow girl.

"Guys scare me!"

"Well, it'll be dark," Beth sighed, shaking her head. "Okay, how about this?" She outlined a plan; after getting general agreement, she said, "AI?"

"Yes."

"Obviously, he doesn't want to see us. It would be valuable, though, if we could see him -- at least, below the waist. Is that possible?"

"Using polarizing fields, it may be possible for you to work in low light," the AI replied. "Leakage will be a problem, as tuning the fields to the shape of your sponsor's body during a period when he may move unexpectedly will be difficult."

"Well, we shouldn't need anything glaring -- I just need to be able to point out the landmarks. Could you ask him, please?"

"Certainly." The AI switched channels. "Your concubines are asking if they can operate in low light below your waist."

"I want it pitch dark," Elias insisted.

"A polarizing field can be put into place, which would allow you the darkness you desire while giving them some light to work with."

"Fine," Elias grunted. "I just don't wanna see what I'm getting. None of 'em is exactly hot."

"This can be arranged."

"Go for it, then."

"You have your permission," the AI told the women.

"I guess we're ready, then," Beth said. "Is he?"

"The women are ready to begin," the AI told Elias.

"Awright."

"He's ready," the AI passed to the women.

"Let's go." Beth waved the others out of the bathroom.

In the master suite, Elias was relaying further instructions. "I don't wanna hear 'em yammering, either. I don't wanna know who is doing what."

"Sound will be dampened," the AI replied, "but given their variety of the concubine's physical types, masking identities may be impossible."

"Thanks for pointing that out," Elias grunted sourly.

"You are welcome." The fields snapped into place. "The requested fields are in place. Is this satisfactory?"

Elias couldn't see his hand in front of his face. "It'll do."

"Your concubines have arrived."

The bed didn't tell him and his eyes didn't tell him -- and neither did his ears. A hand on his leg announced the presence of a woman in his bed. Then there were two -- or maybe three -- and his cock and balls were getting attention from them. A mouth descended, sucking his mostly limp meat in, and a tongue started teasing him. "Yeah, that's it."

Meanwhile, the AI instructed the woman designated to supply Elias breasts, "Darkness is total beyond the fields -- be prepared for it. This is how your sponsor wants things. Operate by touch. One-way communication is open, but requests for direct communication from the three of you to him must be approved."

One of the two women kneeling between Elias' splayed legs directed the one standing, "Be careful. Don't talk. Give him whatever he wants. Try not to piss him off."

"Okay." The standing woman moved into shifting darkness as the AI moved the fields to keep Elias blind, while one of the women on the bed directed the other, "Watch what I'm doing -- this will be your job. I'll help, but you need to learn..."

In absolute darkness, the standing woman moved toward the head of the bed, tracing the edge with her hand. This was an interesting game -- she hoped Elias would enjoy it. When she reached the wall, she gingerly started feeling for Elias.

Elias sensed a presence before the hand descended on his shoulder -- something he hadn't managed with the lower half of his body. "Made it, did you? Don't talk. Crawl up here and shove me a tit."

Moving somewhat awkwardly, the woman placed herself crosswise to Elias on all fours, positioning a breast over his face by the sound of his voice, then slowly lowered it until lips latched onto a nipple. Bracing herself on her hands, she settled in to let him give suck.

Elias reached up to hold the dangling udder in both hands. Pushing back, he broke loose to grunt, "Damned AI was right. Ah, well -- they're probably more interesting this way. I bet I could get a quart a day out of these motherfuckers." He pulled Sue's -- he knew it was Sue's -- tit back down and started gnawing at the stiffening nipple. Well, at least he didn't have to look at the ugly sow -- and whatever else these things were, they were 'big naturals.'

At his crotch, the other two women shared a glance and shrugged. The instructor rolled her lips over his now-stiff meat and rolled them up and down the shaft a half-dozen times before handing off to the student. Elias groaned in pleasure at the instructor's efforts, but unlatched to growl, "Hey, easy with the teeth!" at the student.

Things got better, though -- whoever was fucking up down there started getting the hang of things. The woman above him (yeah, he knew who it was, but he pretended to himself that he didn't) was making quiet grunts as he chewed one nipple and mauled the other with his fingers. Elias thought about complaining about the noises, but they told him he was accomplishing something, which added a little flavor. Letting go of the off-side breast, he released the other to growl, "Spread your legs, you silly slut, so I can feel you up." He slithered a hand between thick thighs to slide it over thick, puffy labia, sliding a finger along her slot past her clit.

"Ooooohhhh..." Sue forgot to be quiet.

"Like that, do ya?" Elias chuckled. "No talking, but you can grunt and groan -- it's entertainment." He rubbed alongside the thickening bump of her clitoris.

Sue gasped, "Mmmmmmmph!" and spread her legs wider. Elias chuckled and went back to his nipple chewing.

The darkness was perhaps a blessing, but Sue would have been effectively blind in bright sunlight; all of her attention was focused on the incredible sensations in her crotch! NO ONE touched her there -- she didn't do this kind of thing herself, scared she would get addicted to it! She'd have been content to let Elias chew her nipples off, given the sensations he'd been giving her -- but THIS! OMIGAWD! It was the hot, itchy feeling he was generating in her hard nipples multiplied by ten, at least -- maybe twenty! She couldn't help it -- she clenched her abdominal muscles and rolled her hips, working at putting the most sensitive, itchy surfaces under his probing fingers. "Mmmph! Mmmph! Uuh! Uuh!" she whined, wriggling her ass and crotch under his hand.

"Well, SOMEBODY's horny!" Elias chuckled. He might have to wear a blindfold, but from the way she was dancing on his fingers, ol' Sue was gonna be a fun fuck! She was wet, too -- sloppy wet; his fingers made juicy noises in her slot. He brought his hand to his nose and smelled her -- not bad -- more good news. Now if she only didn't look like one of those hog-nosed tusked soldiers from the old Star Wars movies ... Elias snorted to himself at the comparison; probably they could fix her looks, but she was about as smart as one of those things, too. Well, that's why he got her a keeper, right? "Awright," he growled, "I'm feeling generous. If you promise not to kick the shit out of me or smother my ass, I'll give you a tongue ride -- how's that?"

Sue wasn't thinking very clearly -- she could hardly breathe for the built-up arousal. Was he offering what she THOUGHT he was offering? She'd heard of such -- even seen videos -- but no one had ever even come close... "Uh ... huh..."

"Awright. Be fucking careful, but swap around and put your twat where your tit is," Elias directed.

Sue had probably never been more careful in her life. She'd been approaching an orgasm when Elias made his offer -- now it was by the wayside while she hoped for something better. But there was a problem... "Which way?" she whispered.

Elias was about to light into her for being a stupid cunt when he realized that there WERE two directions she could face, particularly if she was more or less upright. "Aim your ass at me," he chuckled, "I can't see it, anyway."

Slowly, carefully, Sue rotated and settled over Elias. She worked her calves back to a point beside and almost under his shoulders and Elias grasped her thick hips to make the final adjustments, thinking, 'I'm glad I can't see this... ' But, hey, her twat smelled good, and a quick lick said it tasted good. Time to party! Elias pushed his tongue into Sue's split to attack the nub of her clitoris.

"OOooooOMIGAWD!" Sue wailed, all though of silence banished. This had fingers beat ALLL to Hell! Elias' tongue was all over her clitoris and it was indescribable!

Elias swatted her on the ass. "Hey, keep it down! Play with your own tits -- I can't reach 'em any more. Try not to squash my ass when you cum, get me?" He swatted her plush ass again for emphasis.

"Uh ... huh..." It was hard to breathe, Sue's lungs were so tight. She leaned forward...

 ... and broke the plane of the polarizing field, surprising Beth and Penny when her head popped out of the wall of blackness above them. Penny let out a shriek. The AI tried to mask Sue as it had Elias, but it just wasn't that simple, so it plunged them all into darkness. "Shit," muttered Beth -- but she'd done all she could, anyway ... She pushed Penny's head back down -- and Penny got the hint and resumed her blow job. Sue was moaning continuously; hands like talons were waving here and there. Beth collected them, one by one, lacing her fingers with Sue's. Sue leaned forward, bracing herself against Beth's hands. Beth, who was off-side, leaned up and propped herself chest to chest against Sue so she could support her, even given her position, putting her head on her shoulder and taking Beth's on hers. Sue whispered, "Omigawd, omigawd, omigawd..." -- not because she was trying to be quiet, but because that was all she could manage to get out through lungs paralyzed by her tension.

Penny shifted to her left as much as she could under pressure from Beth's hip -- but she had a requirement to remain engaged with Elias' cock, and she pursued that requirement single-mindedly. Until Beth had placed her hand around that hard, hot length of flesh, she'd never been exposed to one -- not a real live adult one. Now ... Now, she didn't want to release the thing -- it was a handle on a man, a way to please him and get a positive reaction from him, a way to be valuable to him. Penny was fearful of men, and her fear and shyness made her invisible to them. Five minutes of sucking Elias' cock brought her more attention from a male, positive and negative, than she'd ever gotten in one five minute period from ANY male -- including her father, who was one of the sources of her fear. Besides, she LIKED sucking cock -- it gave her a feeling of accomplishment and challenge -- and she knew that, while she had a lot to learn, she could please a man that way, if nothing else. There was something satisfying about the taste and texture, too, and she was sure that if Elias shot off in her mouth, that would also be okay...

Sue started whining, a sound that rose in pitch from a grunt to something you would expect from a wounded animal -- even though it was relatively quiet -- then, shaking like a leaf, she pulsed and dribbled her fluids onto Elias' face. Once was apparently all she could take; when she unlocked and relaxed, releasing Beth's cramped hands, she flopped over to her left and dragged her foot away, rolling onto her stomach to pant.

"Well, THAT was fun," Elias croaked -- and it had been, make no mistake -- but the urgency was upon him, now... "Time to fuck, girls. Whoever drew the short straw, sit on it, willya?"

Beth didn't consider what she moved to do to be the result of "drawing the short straw." It was exactly what she WANTED to do -- and based upon the hurried conference in the bathroom, she was the only one qualified to do it! The amazing revelation that neither Penny nor Sue had ever been with a man put her in the position of being the prime candidate to carry out actual sex, since the three of them agreed that Elias would undoubtedly not want to break in a virgin without realizing it. The tasks had fallen the way they had largely because of that consideration -- and the fact that feeding Elias breast flesh was probably the simplest of the three tasks, and, well, face it, Sue had a lot of it ... Penny took on the job of fellatrix with serious hesitation, doubt and fear -- but after some tutoring from Beth, took to it like a duck to water. Now, though, Elias was calling for the main event -- and that would be Beth.

Carefully, she waddled up over him, duck-walking from her position at the foot of the bed, and, taking his erection in hand, rubbed it along her labia to open them. Sue's excitement and her time sucking Elias' cock had her aroused, so she was lubricated; once in position, she settled onto his cock with the ease of regular experience.

Beth had been married once -- and had desired children fervently. Sex was the way to get there -- and not only because it worked, but also because it was pleasant. Her husband, though, had other ideas; first, he got a secret vasectomy, then he played around. It was a perfect deal for him -- fool around at work or whatever, then come home to the little woman -- who would initiate sex not only because she enjoyed it, but because she wanted children. Eventually, though, plain old Beth didn't cut it any more as a bed partner -- he could get lookers, something that Beth was not -- so he hit the road. This put Beth in a tailspin; binge eating brought on by depression added fifty pounds to her weight and she took to hiding from people. Pure luck had put her in place for the pickup -- and she couldn't begin to guess why Elias had collected her -- but she was there to have kids and that was FINE with her!

The woman who settled onto his dick knew EXACTLY what she was doing -- and darkness or no, her size told him it had to be 'Little Miss I Want Kids.' Well, that was okay -- wasn't that what they were all there for, anyway? Besides, she seemed to know her way around a dick ... Squatting over him, she was riding up and down on his pole pretty energetically, bracing herself by putting her hands on his shoulders. He reached up and collected a double handful of fairly decent tit flesh, confirming her identity; Skinny just didn't have that kind of superstructure...

Speaking of Skinny... "Awright, the three of you are too fucking different for me not to know who is who by now. You keep ridin', Honey, and we'll see if I can't flood your ovaries -- I know that's what you want. Skinny, come up here, Babe. Was that you making like a Hoover on my dick?"

"Well, Beth taught me," a soft voice replied diffidently, "so it wasn't JUST me..."

"But it was you on the ass end, right?"

"Yes."

"Bring it up here. Sue seems to like tongue rides -- but you earned one. Come get a cuddle, at least. I'm gonna keep it dark, but y'all can talk."

Skinny came up on his left side; that sow Sue had the whole bed on the right. Elias got a grip on a bony arm and hauled her closer. "Just tuck yourself in here, somewhere. Do you suck face?"

"Well..."

"Everything is maybe with you, isn't it?" He caught her by the neck and dragged her face to his. "Suck tongue -- you can suck dick, so I know you're gonna be GREAT!" Penny found herself sealed to his lips and with a mouthful of tongue; it could have been horrible, but his breath was actually sort of minty. For that matter, he wasn't giving off that smoky aura he'd had earlier. She started engaging his tongue with hers and stopped trying to escape.

Things settled down for a minute or two. Sue hauled herself against Elias' right side and started rubbing everything in reach with her hands while he cuddled Skinny's skeletal frame on his left and sucked her tongue -- and Beth panted above him while she pumped her twat up and down his pole like she was pumping an oil well.

It didn't last, though -- it couldn't. In the first place, Beth was WAY too good at what she was doing for a chunky bitch. Even with all of the distractions, Elias couldn't hold out -- the urgency got to be too much. Elias needed to be on top to finish, though -- that's just how it was. "Skinny ... Babe ... don't go nowhere, but you need to ... clear out for a sec ... while I ... roll Beth over and ... finish this up!" Skinny got out of the way and Elias grasped Beth by her shoulders and flung her over to his left, rolling with her. Surprisingly, it worked; Elias ended up on his hands and knees, buried in Beth's twat. Bringing up her knees and bracing himself against them, he panted, "It's time to get serious!"

Beth noticed the difference -- RIGHT AWAY! She'd enjoyed the ride from on top, but had been concentrating on making things smooth and cyclic, denying herself to an extent in an effort to see that Elias made it. Elias, on the other hand, brought to bear a pounding urgency that was VERY welcome! There was nothing left for her to do but enjoy it -- obviously, he was going to get off, and just as obviously, he wanted her to, too! The rhythm of the act went from Chopin to AC/DC and the thunder carried her along, easily; orgasm raced toward her borne on the pounding rhythm and her belly tightened as contractions rolled through her hungry cunt!

"That's it, Babe! Gimme that cunt! YAH!" Elias grunted, pounding away at the gates of her womanhood. "It's ... time ... to ... get ... OFFFFF!!!!!" He buried himself to the hilt and blasted away, enjoying the feeling of letting go in a pussy without a rubber in the way and the feel of her clutching him, inside and out. He knew she'd gotten off -- the noise she made, while indescribable, was clear -- even without feeling her twat grabbing at his dick. Yeah, she got off, all right -- and that was a lot better than the fake shit you got from a hooker.

Beth cuddled him and crooned happily. She was swampy from his cum -- and happy about it. She knew it was the good stuff. It was going to happen -- if not tonight, sometime soon. In the meantime, she enjoyed the disparity between his sizeable cock and the slight, wiry body it was mounted on.

Elias let her cuddle him for a bit, then announced, "Okay, I'm rolling off. Everybody find a patch of bed and get comfortable -- it's time to get in a nap." He wedged himself between Sue and Beth. "Skinny? Where are you? I don't feel any bones..." Penny came in from below and put her head on his thigh. "Huh! That'll work, I guess..." He caressed her hair and allowed his post orgasmic torpor to put him to sleep.



-------

Chapter 10


Manuel Montoya knocked on his sister-in-law's door and waited for her to peer at him through the peephole and open up. "Manuel?" Marta eyed him. "What is wrong?"

"I have news that we must present to the family and I need to hear your counsel. May I come in?"

Marta backed up, waving him in. "Why me? Why not Inez?" Marta tended to stay away from Manuel -- and vice-versa. Marta found Manuel to be extremely attractive -- but he belonged to Inez. The sisters had discussed the situation on numerous occasions -- Inez's usual response was to scoff and tease her, telling her that Manuel was just a big boy and that Marta should not be concerned about finding his eyeballs in her cleavage, Inez had him properly tied down -- but it had forced a certain formality upon her dealings with her brother-in-law -- a formality that he returned, probably because Inez was correct about his admiration for her bust, among other things. To see the pair at family functions, one would think that they disliked each other -- but that was not the case. Both of them merely wanted to avoid any suspicion of impropriety, so they avoided each other -- and, thus, temptation.

The situation had become more complicated with the untimely death of Marta's late husband. There hadn't been any money, and Marta's job cleaning offices allowed her to put hand to mouth, but that was about it; any unexpected expense threatened to swamp her. Inez had acted as intermediary, arranging for a number of 'loans' from her husband; Marta never asked him directly and he never spoke to her about it -- and no one ever expected the debts to be repaid. Part of this was their shared culture, in which widowed family members were carried more or less on the family dole -- but it added an additional concern, as male relatives trading on such favors to subjugate the widow concerned was a favorite soap-opera plot. This left dealings between the pair on a VERY formal plane ... Marta eyed Manuel, waiting, while he stood there in the middle of her small living room, looking vastly uncomfortable.

Manuel took a breath. "Inez is unavailable. That is ... part of the problem."

"I do not understand."

"It is ... complicated."

"I will make coffee. Please, make yourself comfortable." Marta bustled off.

Manuel made himself UNcomfortable on the edge of Marta's side chair while he waited for her to return. How on Earth should he present this? Inez seemed to think that he should just tell her it was time to move in with him or something -- but that seemed overly simplistic, at the very least ... He had no idea how to present Inez's fanciful wishes in a manner that would not insult her sister -- possibly alienating her forever. It appeared to be best to keep things basic; Inez could brief this other silliness when she surfaced again...

Marta returned with the coffee tray to find him perched like that, looking uncomfortable. Putting the tray down on the coffee table, she poured and made sugar and cream available. "It is serious, then."

"Yes." Manuel couldn't seem to find a way to get on with it.

"What has happened?"

"Isobel and Inez were having coffee at their usual place this morning when the Confederacy arrived," Manuel muttered.

"Oh!" Marta sat up, surprised. "What happened?"

"Isobel ... was selected. Inez became concerned for her -- I am sure you have heard about the kinds of things that occur at these ... events ... She also presented herself -- and was selected. They are gone."

"Oh my God!" Marta sat up and threw her hands to her cheeks, shocked. "Both of them?"

"Yes." This was even harder than anticipated; Manuel's hand shook as he reached for his coffee cup. "I have spoken to Inez by telephone. They are well -- but the situation is irreversible. They are gone."

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry!" Marta stood and crossed to where Manuel was sitting, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Well, they are not dead, at least," Manuel, said softly. "I am still trying to understand it all. For Isobel, it is probably all for the best, but for Inez ... She apologized. The duties of motherhood seemed more important to her than the duties of a wife to her in that moment -- and now our marriage is no more, legally."

"The Church will see this differently," Marta opined.

"Yes." Manuel chuckled. "Inez's answer to that was..." He cocked his head and concentrated on the correct wording, "My husband, there is sin and there is sin. Even if we remain married in the eyes of God, we can no longer be together -- and I MUST cleave unto another! If the Church cannot deal with that, remind them that it is the only way I can be fruitful and multiply and provide God with soldiers for the coming battle!"

"She said that?" Marta laughed.

"Word for word," Manual grinned ruefully.

"What else did she say?"

Manuel became distinctly uncomfortable. "She had some ... crazy ideas. I will not insult you with them."

Manuel's discomfort was a dead giveaway. While a man would have respected Manuel's wishes in this, it was not the approach to take with a woman. "Insult me? How could you insult me with something Inez said?" Marta demanded.

Manuel attempted to wave it off, "Let us just say that she chose to disregard propriety."

This, of course, did NOT work... "Now you MUST tell me!" Marta demanded. "What did she say?"

It was time to switch tactics. Withholding information seldom worked with Inez if she was alert, but it might with her sister... "She ... suggested that I take you into my household."

"I see." Yes, that would raise eyebrows. People would make assumptions...

Manuel allowed a flicker of relief to show in his features. This might work!

It didn't; Marta saw his face and realized that he was still hiding something. "That's not insulting. Perhaps a little daring, but not insulting. What else did she say?"

Time to stonewall. "Nothing."

Marta stamped her foot -- reminding Manuel forcibly of Inez. "I am not stupid! You are deliberately holding back! Why?"

"I have told you why!" Manuel retorted with some asperity. "I wish to avoid insult! Inez might be able to discuss this with you, but I cannot!" He was becoming mildly angry -- and that was never a good thing in verbal duels with Inez...

It was too late -- they were in full-blown conflict. Marta circled around to confront him directly and tilted up his chin so she could glare into his eyes. "It is too late for that! You will tell me! What did she say?"

This was the wrong thing to do -- and the right thing. Being treated like a recalcitrant child caused Manuel's anger to flare; he leaped up and glared down at his one-time wife's sister. "All right, then! It shall be as you wish! She told me that perception should be reality -- that I should not only take you under my roof, but into my bed! She told me to tell you that it is your duty -- that you owe me this -- that you should offer me comfort and I should give you protection..." He wound down. "These were her words, not mine..."

Marta stood with her hand to her mouth, eyes huge. "She said this?"

"She said you were ... interested..." Manuel looked away, "and teased me about looking at your breasts..."

Marta knew with absolute certainty that Manuel wasn't embroidering things or turning them to suit his needs -- they were almost word for word the contents of a half-dozen half-serious conversations between her and her sister at that very coffee table! The breast remark was enough to guarantee authenticity in and of itself! True, the conversations had usually come under the heading of 'If I die... ' -- but the content was the same, and the circumstances ... She reached up and put a hand to his cheek. "I apologize, Manuel. I see now that you were attempting to look after my best interests."

"I didn't..."

"I know."

"I told her that I could not say these things to you -- that I have no gift of words to make it right. But I have blurted it out, anyway..." Manuel muttered. "I should go."

"I think not," Marta replied. "We still need to discuss how to present this to the family -- all of it."

"All of what?"

"Isobel's departure. Inez's departure. Where they are -- what they are doing. My moving into your home."

"I ... What?" Manuel blinked.

"It is convenient, at the very least, don't you think? You get the services of a woman and I don't have to clean some nasty building so I can stay here in this place, all alone..." Marta cocked her head. "My sister is not stupid, you know. She knows what is best for us."

"Perhaps," Manuel croaked.

"As for the other thing -- we should probably wait for a decent interval before acknowledging it," Marta said smoothly.

"Other thing?" Manuel was awash.

Marta slipped forward to embrace him; Manuel returned it, self- consciously. "She said I should comfort you, did she not? What did she say about my breasts?"

"She said ... if I presented her wishes properly..." Manuel's mouth was dry. The objects under discussion were about a foot from his eyeballs, and almost straight down. She was looking up at him, smiling demurely. He wanted to look no lower, but that cleft, that valley, tugged at his eyeballs -- soft, dark, deep...

Marta watched the hunger flood his expression -- hunger she hadn't seen in a while -- and thought about a laughing conversation she'd had with her sister. "He's like a boy, sometimes," Inez had said, "a big, sweet boy. Just give him a toy to play with..." Marta stepped back, collecting one of his hands. "Let's go to my room and sleep on it; in the morning we can discuss how to present things to the family when we're fresh."

That was all it took; ten minutes later, he was rhythmically probing her depths with his cock, listening to her half-familiar pattern of gasping moans while he reverently clutched a big, brown-nippled breast in either hand. Marta was pleased; he was every bit the wonderful lover Inez had always claimed he was.

-------

As for Inez, she was busy with her new role -- and her new charges. Sanket, taking her advice, had confronted Rachana in her quarters and, after a brief fit of histrionics terminated by what Inez felt was a very judiciously delivered swat on the ass, she'd followed him meekly back to his quarters.

From what Inez could see, he was doing fine without her. He took Rachana into his embrace to comfort her -- which she fought, but only momentarily. To her blubbered objection that she was a ruined thing, he replied, "You were a girl, and had girlish concerns. Now you are a woman. Women here do not have husbands, so having been deflowered by a man not your husband is normal and therefore not an issue. I will provide you with womanly concerns, soon enough."

Sanket cuddled Rachana and let her wail out her hysterical apologies. When she wound down, she decided that apologies weren't enough, more or less as predicted. Now, Inez was gently masturbating while watching a full, three- dimensional representation of Rachana, parked between Sanket's splayed legs, sliding her lips up and down his erection to the accompaniment of a mixture of Sanket's quiet groans and soft slurping noises. At first, Sanket had limited himself to toying with Rachana's conical, brown-nippled breasts, but now, mindful of Inez's advice in the matter, he was gripping a handful of Rachana's hair and urging her on to greater effort while surging up from below. Inez chuckled to herself; maybe he was just feeling the urgency, rather than following her advice -- but it was hotter to watch, in any event. Inez was mildly embarrassed about fingering herself, but she wouldn't be sleeping with Manuel this night -- or any other, now. She was more than mildly unhappy about that, but Sanket was a good boy; they would all make the best of it.

There was a tentative knock on the door; after jumping a foot and snatching guilty fingers out of her crotch, Inez went off to answer it. It was Anne. "Can I come in?"

"Well..." Inez stole a glance at the 3-D display hovering in the center of the room.

Anne came in anyway. "What's that?"

"Our new master -- and what may be his number one woman," Inez replied. "I am keeping an eye on things to lend a hand while he deals with the results of what he did to her at the pickup -- with his permission of course."

Anne nodded. "I had to help with that. She was pretty traumatized -- but I'd seen her playing cat and mouse games with him..." She stared at the hologram. "Pretty hot."

"Yes," Inez agreed. "What were YOU doing?" Obviously, Anne was here for a reason.

Anne looked embarrassed. "Trying to be Number One in the line to pick up the pieces," she admitted. "I must have been doing okay, or I wouldn't be here, but..." she waved toward the hologram, "do you think we have a chance?"

Inez shrugged. "You're asking me?"

"With suitable minor modifications and age adjustment, you will both be physically competitive," the AI announced, believing it had been queried. Both Inez and Anne jumped and let out shrieks. "Has an error been made?"

"Uh, well," Anne replied, "nobody really asked you..."

"If your question was not for Inez, then..."

"It was more or less rhetorical," Anne finished. "Or, actually, her response may have been. What she was implying was that she had no right to an opinion."

"Duly noted."

"What exactly IS possible?" Anne asked.

"Serious modifications are possible," the AI replied, replacing the hologram of Sanket's room with a nearly full-scale projection of Anne's form, "However, large-scale changes that require serious genetic engineering and place the subject outside the current gene pool are frowned upon and may not be sustainable..."

"Wait!" Inez interrupted. "I would like to see this, too, but I'm supposed to be monitoring the other room!"

"Duly noted." The hologram of the activity in Sanket's room returned.

Anne switched tracks. "So ... Oral sex?"

"She's apologizing," Inez replied.

"Okay, I get it. Is he going to fuck her?"

"I advised against it, based upon the amount of sex she's had today and the fact that she was a virgin at the start," Inez replied. "I don't think it's smart for her to equate sex with Sanket and pain. Right now, she equates sex itself with pain -- not a good thing."

"Yeah." Anne got a look at the up-side. "So she won't be real interested..."

"Probably not any time soon," Inez agreed.

"Yeah," Anne mused. "Can you blow this up any?" The AI expanded things to 200% of the original size. "He's pushing her a little, isn't he?" Rachana looked a bit distressed.

"I told him I thought he could -- she's being punished," Inez related.

"He's listening to you a lot..."

Inez smiled wanly, "I am an older, wiser head."

Anne looked to Inez for permission and settled onto a loveseat-sized couch to watch. Inez settled beside her and the AI moved the hologram to a comfortable viewing angle without prompting. Over the next couple of minutes, both of them experimented with the hologram, asking for another size increase and several changes in viewing angle. At some point, both of them decided that the default seating position was perched on the edge of the couch with their hands between their knees -- rocking, in Anne's case.

By this point, they had the image life-size and hovering in front of them at an apparent distance of maybe eighteen inches. They couldn't have gotten any closer to Rachana's pink, drooling face as it rose and fell if they had been on the bed with the couple. "Can I ask what you were doing before I showed up?" Anne asked.

Inez smiled crookedly, "Masturbating, I'm embarrassed to say."

"Oh, thank God!" Anne's hands flew into her crotch. "I can't STAND this!" She parked one finger, then two in her tunnel while whirling her thumb over her bulging clitoral hood and reached up to squeeze a nipple. "Sorry, but I just don't get to see this kind of thing ... God, what a beautiful cock!"

Inez nodded, "I am missing my husband's right now..." Given Anne's total descent, a little self-stimulation didn't seem to be anything too gauche, so she resumed rubbing her mons.

"I don't have a husband. I don't have a boyfriend," Anne gasped. "I have a vibrator -- that's about it! I hope he fucks me bowlegged!"

In the hologram, Rachana choked and backed off, gasping, for about the eighth time. Anne, obviously just a bit out of control, croaked, "Suck it! I'm gonna learn deep-throat and I'm gonna sleep with that thing in my mouth -- and you'll have to watch and wish you hadn't been such a stupid cunt!"

Inez blinked, thinking, 'Obviously there's no animosity there... '

In no time Anne had reached the point where she was flushed and sweaty and obviously on the verge, "God, I wish I had an eight-inch vibrator..." Before them, Sanket's expression became even more urgent and he began using both hands to coerce Rachana. "Suck him!" Anne panted, "drink his cum!" Then her eyes rolled up and she grunted, "Huh! Huh! Huh! Huh!" while her fingers made wet, sloppy noises in her crotch.

When it was over, she settled back in the couch and panted an apology, "I know that was disgusting, but I just HAD to! You don't know..."

"No, it's fine," Inez gasped. "I cannot compete, but I would like to finish..." She began rubbing herself more vigorously.

"Go ahead," Anne sighed. "I'll try not to disturb you further."

Inez shifted her attention back to the hologram, where Sanket was obviously approaching completion. Sanket had a beautiful cock; Inez vowed that she would compete with Anne for the right to swallow it whole. She rose higher and higher, watching Sanket get more and more restive and agitated, kicking and flopping, his teeth gritted as he manipulated Rachana's mouth on his slick, hard erection. She was there, sucking him, bringing him to peak when a pair of warm hands slid over her breasts from behind to tweak her nipples and a pair of lips breathed hot air into her right ear along with the words, "Do you do girls?" And before she could react, Sanket arched himself and white goo streamed from the corners of Rachana's mouth and the world exploded and Inez screamed...

When she came to herself, Anne was leaning over her from behind the couch, rolling one of her nipples between her fingers and gently rubbing her crotch; Inez's own arms hung limp at her sides. "Shhhh," Anne murmured, "You got a big one. Just relax and enjoy the aftermath. Seriously, do you like girls at all? We could cuddle..."

"I guess I could try it," Inez croaked. "I'm not used to sleeping alone."

-------

The blow job had turned into an unending ordeal -- but when it was over and she'd managed to swallow what seed she hadn't choked on, Sanket pulled Rachana up next to him and apologized for being rough with her and cuddled her and caressed her body until he (not she) fell asleep. This had been the ugliest day in her life; she was soiled from the inside out and nothing would ever clean the foulness. Worst was probably the fact that it wasn't REALLY rape -- it had ultimately been her choice to do as Sanket in his anger directed, vending her virginity to some random male to prove what a slut she was and then spreading herself beneath several others. Her womanhood was sore -- and in some ways, she believed it would never heal -- but that was the price she paid to overcome her folly and redeem herself to Sanket. The only good news was that, as promised, he accepted her defiled body -- but even he could be brutal. Still, he could have laughed and tossed her aside, but he didn't; Kiran would have. She would live, and be his perfect ... woman (there was no such thing as a wife here, apparently) -- and maybe, someday, she would be whole again...

Sanket's last conscious thought was that he would have to find a psychologist or whatever for Rachana or she would be traumatized for life.

< NOTE: There is another scene, originally written here, that has been removed and will be posted separately under the title "Smoking White Owls." The reason? Story codes for this story would have had to be radically altered to include it. The story will be made available simultaneously with this one; the individual reader should examine the codes and determine whether he or she wishes to include it with their reading of this story. >

Kiran was snoozing with Kellie on one side of him and Sharmila on the other when the AI announced, "There is a communication from the surface. You are not required to accept it, but the caller went to considerable political manipulation to get this far..."

Kiran eyed Kellie in irritation. Kellie looked sheepish. "We will accept."

"Princess?" J. J. Wentworth's voice queried.

"Daddy?"

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Daddy."

"We were told that you were treated rather, ah, brutally, at extraction."

"I was stupid and I got punished, Daddy. You know how that is. My ... sponsor is very much like you, in many ways."

"I see. Is he there?" J. J. asked.

"I am," Kiran replied.

"Mr ... Patan," J. J. said smoothly, after glancing at his notes for the name. "Is there anything I can do for you -- or your family?"

It was an offer of a bribe -- and a threat. Kiran detected both. "My new family is much more important to me than my old one -- the ties are severed."

"Daddy, you're NOT helping!" Kellie interjected. "I FINALLY managed to overcome the preconceptions my ... sponsor had about me and my own stupidity -- by a miracle -- and YOU come along! What would YOU do about that?"

"I ... apologize," J. J. sighed. "Please do not hold this against my daughter."

Kiran pursed his lips and, eyeing Kellie, who was looking apologetic, let the anger bleed from him. "I'll try not to."

"Since I'm not helping, here, I'll go away. Call me when you can, Princess -- I won't impose on your sponsor further," J. J. muttered.

"Bye, Daddy! I love you!"

Kiran eyed her. "He didn't help you."

"Master, I'll do ANYTHING! I'll never talk to him again! I'll..."

"Lie down."

"He won't call back."

"Good."

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Everyone was settled in for the night. A good bit of the initial hysteria was over. Starting the next morning, the phase Pete tended to refer to as 'Human Remodeling' would begin; sponsors would start looking at adjustments of their concubines while the Confederacy began briefing them about THEIR roles. With any luck, they wouldn't be recycling any more of this bunch, although Janine might not end up being the perfect replacement for the one they did. In a couple of days Pete and Rick would be shuttling down to do it all again, and in a week or so, the Catch -22 would break orbit for the colonies. Some of the sponsors had a lot of work to do to bring their families together, and some families would just jell. But that's another story -- or ten.


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The End
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Posted:  2008-04-18
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http://storiesonline.net/
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