Chapter 22

Fifteen minutes later, we were headed for Beth's in the van -- and I was cursing myself for being an idiot. I was SUPPOSED to be the planner for this trip, not to mention one of the primary resource providers -- and here I had ten people in a nine-passenger van, headed for a house that probably didn't support the population, either. Child car seats were unforgiving in this regard, so after some thought and negotiation, Frieda was sitting on Oliver's lap in the second row, with Vera sitting next to her suffering because Frieda was doing her best to arouse Oliver outrageously, and little Shawna in her car seat on the far end. Keisha was up front with me, largely because, well, she was the largest. Tara and Abe had the jump seats and Beth and Elise were in the back. I was well aware that at some point I was going to have to bolster Beth's ego some...

But I had a plan for that -- and besides, she appeared to be having a ball playing with little Elise, who -- unlike Abe -- had no fear of her.

My nebulous early plan had us leaving Ray's in two vehicles -- my rental, and Tara's -- but when the Major gave me the van, I decided to consolidate. It had worked well and proven instructive -- BEFORE we added four passengers...

I could always shift EVERYONE to the Valhalla in orbit -- but Oliver had made family arrangements that I wanted him to be able to see through to completion. I could bounce everyone back and forth, but that created its own issues -- one of which was abuse of Confederacy resources for my own personal benefit. Theoretically, as long as I provided some specious excuse, no one would care -- except me; I didn't work that way.

So we were headed for Beth's.

Frieda had an instinctive genius for turning the screws on Vera. Even without my instructions, she was holding one of Oliver's hands to one of her little conical tits and wiggling on his lap, saying, "You know, Mr. H, I can do 'Daddy's Little Girl,' too -- maybe even better than Beth!" while grinning maliciously at Vera. Somehow, she always seemed to know the perfect thing to say... Oliver, who understood his role in this thoroughly, was making it clear that he wasn't fighting at all by squeezing and rubbing the tit flesh in his hand very visibly. "OOOOO! I'm wet! Can I ride Daddy's pogo stick?" Frieda cooed.

"Not just now, Dear," Oliver replied, "I'm saving myself." He very clearly did NOT rule out a future engagement -- and Vera noticed.

Arrival and disembarkation from the van placed Vera in the forefront of things as hostess; the first order of business was putting the kids back into bed in a spare bedroom. Oliver and I got pressed into service retrieving some old children's furniture from the cellar; Beth and Tara cleaned it up while Keisha watched the children and Frieda and Vera set up the other spare bedroom.

"I'm sorry about this," I apologized to Oliver, "It's poor planning on my part. Tomorrow evening, I'll probably shift Tara and Keisha and the kids to the spacecraft in orbit, so you can get on with your family celebration."

"They're your family, too," Oliver pointed out, "In fact, Tara and Keisha and the kids are our family, too. Things are going to get crowded, but if we can avoid issues, I would prefer to have everyone here tomorrow night -- it might be the last opportunity for all of us."

"Well, it shouldn't be," I pointed out.

"Maybe not -- but it gives the women something to do tomorrow, doesn't it?" Oliver grinned like a shark; he was getting into things.

As it turned out, the house was a four-bedroom with a den and Oliver's office; while beds were going to need airing, they were in place for infrequent family visits, and there were couches and such, too. "Ho, Vera!" Oliver roared.

I think everyone froze in place -- it was probably the first yell of that type ever to occur in that house! Beth stuck her head out of the kitchen, where they were washing down a playpen, with an absolutely indescribable expression on her face. Vera came a-running, and went to her knees in front of her master, fear for her position visibly making her the soul of obsequiousness, "Master?"

"Clearly, the family has grown. You will prepare the house for the increase in numbers for tomorrow's gathering; at this point, we are looking at Maureen, Judith, her husband, and my other concubine. By tomorrow night, everyone should have a bed. Money is no object, as by Saturday, we will have no use for it." He flicked a glance at me. "Utilize whatever of Jack's resources he sees fit to release to you to assist. Do you understand?"

Vera gulped. "Yes, Master."

"Jack requires resources. You will set him up in the den, as it is a large room, with bed space for all of the adult members of his entourage. Reuse Beth's room for others," Oliver directed. "Tell me your thoughts."

I think Vera spent more time trying to couch her thoughts than in actually formulating a plan. "I think the children should occupy Maureen and Judith's old room, which has single beds..." she flicked me a glance, "unless Abe needs to be segregated from his sisters."

I snorted. "At their ages? On second thought, consult with Tara." What did I know of such things?

Vera nodded. "Judith can use Beth's room -- with or without her husband. Maureen can use Travis' old room. With Jack and all of his concubines in the den, that leaves..."

"Britney," Oliver finished for her, "who has accommodations."

Vera took this right between the eyes. She looked at him for a moment, burst into tears, and leaned forward to cling to him, sobbing, "Master, what can I do to fix this?"

Oliver flashed me a glance, but he had to solo sometime... "This is a good start. The answer is, 'Do as I tell you.' We have changes to weather. You need to remember your place and be truthful with me."

"Yes, Master."

Oliver looked at me. "This can't wait. Would you assist?"

"If I can."

"I would like to borrow, Frieda, too. She is adept at this kind of thing."

I didn't argue. "Frieda!"

"Master?" Frieda was close; she'd been working with Vera. I beckoned her and said one word in her ear, "Whip." She nodded.

I waved to Oliver that he had access and he said, "Please join us in my study."

Frieda nodded. "I have an errand, Mr. H, but I'll be right there -- it's related."

"Very well." Released, Frieda dashed off. Looking down, Oliver directed, "Await us in the study. Nude."

"Yes, Master." Vera's voice was full of dread, but she took off in the indicated direction.

"You're going to make her own up," I theorized.

"Yes."

"What else?"

"I think I'll have her get used to servicing other women."

I chuckled. "Frieda will LOVE THAT!"

"She'll make the most of it, I'm sure," Oliver agreed, grinning back.

Frieda came pelting back with a whip in her hand; Oliver went "Ah!" and collected it from her. I went to the kitchen doorway, where Beth and Tara were paying more attention to events than what they were doing, and directed, "Finish up and get that stuff upstairs and set up and the kids into bed properly. Things may get loud; try to keep everyone on an even keel -- including Keisha." I got a chorus of 'Yes, Master's' and moved to follow Oliver to the study.

I swear Vera's eyes bulged when she saw the whip; in my opinion, her fear of the thing was excessive -- and I've had my hide tanned a few times, so I know what it is capable of. Well, it couldn't hurt... Oliver moved to stand over Vera, eyeing her. "This is a test. If you fail, I will leave marks on you with this for all to see. It will be extremely painful. Do you understand?"

Vera's eyes were pools of fear as she gazed up at Oliver. "Yes, Master."

"So tell me -- how many men have you slept with in your life?"

Vera reeled as if she'd been slapped, and her eyes flicked to Frieda -- who shook her head no and drew her fingers across her lips mimicking a zipper. I schooled my features; Frieda had done the perfect thing -- she'd put the burden on Vera. Vera could assume that Oliver knew nothing and lie, or she could tell the truth; the ball was in her court. Oliver stood quietly waiting while Vera sweated visibly, then began to shake, watching his eyes. Finally, from a dry throat, she uttered, "I don't know, Master."

"You don't know?" Oliver cocked his head. "Why not? I'm aware of four... How many am I not aware of?"

Vera hung her head. "I don't know, Master. Many. At the time, I didn't bother to count." Tears poured.

"Fifty? A hundred?" Oliver prompted.

"Somewhere between, I think," she husked. "Probably... over sixty."

"Probably over sixty. Possibly over seventy?" Oliver pressed.

"Possibly." It was a whisper.

"And this wasn't relevant? I didn't need to know this?"

"It was another time, Master. Another Vera. When we met... that Vera was gone."

"Imprisoned, more like, wouldn't you say?" Oliver replied. "Chained up. Hidden away."

"Yes."

"And have you ever let her out?"

Vera's head snapped up. "No, Master! Never once! Not since before we met!"

"Until tonight."

"Yes." Vera's head dropped again. "Until tonight."

"Tonight is not under discussion," Oliver told her. "I was there, and I had a hand in it. Nothing will come of it. On the other hand, you withheld yourself from me for twenty-five years!"

"I... I..." Vera knelt there, eyes pleading, knowing there was no excuse.

"You felt it necessary..." Oliver supplied the excuse.

"Yes."

"If you had been honest with me, we might have worked through it." Oliver chided.

"I don't see how, Master." Vera hung her head. Then, unable to contain herself, she asked, "Who told?"

I supplied the answer. "The back of the van wasn't secure enough -- there was an AI sensor package present. It thought the conversation relevant and brought it to our attention. You told on yourself." At the look on her face, I added, "If you would like, I can bring in the equipment and produce a playback. Your sisters in bondage didn't rat you out." I turned to Frieda. "Under the passenger seat of the van, there is a flat black case...'

"I believe you," Vera husked, waving it off.

"Fortunately, I understand your position in this matter," Oliver told her. "However, the situation has changed; I'm told that I have multiple options with which to deal with it. That being the case, you will give of yourself without reservation to me and to anyone I should designate from this point on -- do you understand? If I choose to leave you unsatisfied, that is MY choice, not yours. Whatever measures I decide to take to ensure your satisfaction, you will cooperate with fully -- is that clear?"

Vera gazed up at him, unable to comprehend how all this could help -- you could see it written on her face. "Yes, Master," she said dutifully -- but the fear remained...

I want you to reveal everything," Oliver instructed her. "I want to see the slut in you. When I release you to do so, I want you to declare your needs so that I can see them fulfilled."

"Master, I..."

"If I catch you withholding yourself, I will beat you with this until you wish you had! Do you understand?" Oliver demanded, waving the riding crop.

"Yes, Master!"

Oliver grabbed a handful of her hair, but only to pull her against him. Vera crawled forward and stuck her face in his crotch, gratefully. It wasn't sex, it was comfort -- a place to hide her face. "I am aware that you have reservations..." he said quietly.

"I... I just can't... see it working...." Vera husked.

"You'll just have to trust me," Oliver replied. Vera nodded against his pants. Oliver stood there a moment, letting her gather herself, then grasped her hair and pulled her head back. "More questions. Have you had anal sex?"

"Yes, Master." Despite her uncomfortable position, she managed to look sad.

"What's wrong?" Oliver asked.

"I would have liked to have given you that."

Oliver let her rest her head again. "What's done is done." That said, he pulled her head back again. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Usually. Many times." Vera admitted. "It's easy to be too rough back there, though."

Oliver nodded and shifted his grip to alongside her neck, controlling her position with a thumb along her jawline. "How many women have you had sex with?"

"What?" Vera's eyes popped. "Why, none!" It didn't take a lie detector to be able to tell that she was telling the truth.

Frieda got my attention and pulled me down to whisper in my ear, "If this is going where I THINK it's going, we could use a vibrator!"

"Do you have access to one?" I asked.

"Beth has one in her nightstand."

"Go get it," I directed, "Run!"

Oliver continued the interrogation, "What, never?"

"Never once, Master," Vera insisted. "I was stuck on cocks -- and there were plenty, once I got going. Girls... stayed away."

"Not even before you started with boys?"

"Not even then. We... came close a couple of times, a girlfriend and I -- but we never got there."

I looked at Oliver. "Have you ever done any research on this?"

Oliver nodded. "I'm aware. The Foundation collects data on such things so that no one is surprised in general. However, I've never approached Vera with this..."

"May I?" I offered.

"Please."

"Vera," I began, "it is not unusual for concubines to find that after they've been through medical their libidos have been cranked up a notch or two. We may not see that with you, but then we're thinking that with you it's there in the first place. Now, Oliver has accepted a naval commission -- and that means that from time to time he may go out on a cruise. While he is gone, you and Oliver's other concubine may find yourselves to be somewhat wound up, if you get my meaning. That being the case, you can sit and twiddle your thumbs and stare at each other, or..."

Vera blinked. "Oh."

I nodded. "Exactly. It is generally an approved-of solution. Availing yourself of the services of another sponsor or a male concubine without Oliver's permission is generally NOT thought of as an approved situation. And like it or not, the AIs monitor EVERYTHING, and they would take notice -- and while they tend not to bother us with every little thing, Oliver would hear about that. The punishment for wandering around and handing out pussy to strange guys could be, well, life-threatening -- even life-terminating, if you get my drift."

Vera eyed me. "So..."

"So unless I miss my guess, Oliver plans to introduce you to the joys of cunnilingus," I finished.

"It is one option at my disposal," Oliver noted. "There are others. For instance, I will be having my sexual performance augmented. I'm sure you can see how that might help with our little problem?"

"Um, yes..." Vera nodded her head, her expression glazed. "How much?"

"Whatever it takes," Oliver replied. "I'll need to have some left over for Britney."

The AI muttered in my ear, <The possibility exists that Vera might require more than one male -- not for performance reasons, but because she craves variety.>

'Ouch!' I subvocalized.

<Are you in pain?>

'Merely a reaction to your input.'

<It appeared from your conversation with Doctor Hopkins in the the vehicle that this had occurred to you.> the AI reproved.

'Actually, it had...' "Oliver? A moment?" I beckoned.

Oliver disentangled himself from Vera. Frieda arrived at that moment. She had the sense to hide the vibrator; I took it from her and shoved it in my pocket surreptitiously. "Find a comfortable spot -- you're going to get your rug munched," I told her.

"Kewl!" Frieda cast about and settled on Oliver's desk chair.

I pursed my lips. "Oliver might not approve of that location."

"Nonsense!" Oliver replied. "How many more times am I going to use it?"

I shrugged. "It's your chair. I was thinking that a towel might be a good idea. Leather might pick up the smell."

Oliver eyed me in amusement and replied, "It's a new day. I can think of worse smells..."

I chuckled. "There is that..."

I waved permission to Frieda, who plopped on the chair and scooted down, throwing her legs over the chair arms and exposing her virtually hairless mound. "Oh, Vera..." she sang, beckoning.

Oliver turned to Vera. "You understand what is required? I'll be monitoring your progress." He whacked the riding crop against his leg.

"Yes, Master."

"Oh, Vera?" I added, "It's a mutual thing. When we decide that Frieda has had hers, you'll be occupying the top position."

"Okay." I could tell that put a somewhat different complexion on things. Oliver and I watched as Vera approached Frieda, nerved herself, and began to lick and suck.

"You had a thought?" Oliver turned his attention to me as Frieda erupted in her first moan.

"Vera's issue is psychological. She has a poor self-image. And during her wild phase, she had multiple partners -- probably every time," I noted.

Oliver grimaced. "Yes, that thought had occurred to me."

"If she takes to females, that may resolve things," I offered, "but she was typically humiliated and abused by males. Frieda, for instance, is gifted at abuse and humiliation -- but she's female. If Vera needs multiple penetrations..."

Oliver puffed out a breath. "I would rather not get into all that. If I needed it, I suppose I could find it..."

"True." I nodded. "Prostitution, as such, doesn't exist in the colonies and sex being freely available, various options in the way of lifestyle adjustments and swinging are out there and limited to mutual agreement among sponsors -- note that I said SPONSORS. Concubines do as they're told by their sponsor. That said, there are any number of arrangements that you could make on a one-time or an ongoing basis."

"What if I wanted to, say, keep it in the family? I was hoping that you might demonstrate an enhanced capability this evening, for instance, and ease her mind somewhat on that score. But if you are correct, I might require your assistance periodically..." Oliver said diffidently.

"Any time I'm available, I'm sure I could fill in. That would justify a certain quid pro quo..."

Oliver nodded. "Yes..." I could see his mind working.

"Once they've settled in a bit, maybe you would like to have Beth give you a child?" I offered. "It would be... ours, in that it would live with her..."

Oliver shook himself. "You're... too generous. And I'm too tempted by the idea. Let's wait a while before discussing that -- I need to get grounded and see if I can live with myself if I take you up on it."

"Back to tonight, then," I replied, smiling. "I remind you that she's already had four..."

Oliver nodded. "Yes, that's true. No doubt, she's been out of the swing of things for a while, so tonight has already been a challenge..." He eyed me closely. "She HAS, been out of it, has she not?"

<Data provided would indicate this,> the AI supplied. <Nothing in the subject's vitals indicated duplicity when such questions were asked.>

"You're aware that I have a neural interface, correct?" I asked.

"Yes."

"The AI can monitor various bodily functions and uses my senses and implanted sensors to gather data. This can literally reproduce the functions of a lie detector -- only more accurately. The AI assures me that Vera has been faithful," I relayed.

"OooooOOOOHHHH!!!! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!!!!" Frieda howled and thrashed in the chair. Oliver and I both chuckled.

I fished the vibrator out of my pocket. "Why don't you do this? You and Frieda work her over, using this to help out -- and if she looks to be too fresh when you run out of steam, send for me. But I don't have to tell you that I already have my work cut out for me..." I handed him the vibe. "This thing lasts forever, you know..."

Oliver nodded. "Now, do you think?"

"Yeah. Give her an incentive to keep Frieda on the ropes. Then use Frieda freely to wear her out as much as possible -- and if you can get her there, fuck her while she's exhausted. A little verbal abuse -- and a quick flick with that if she seems to be slacking off..." I pointed to the riding crop, "should keep her tuned. I'll save her a load for tomorrow night, since we don't have three interlopers coming."

Oliver nodded, eyeing his concubine. "Yes..."

"Err on the side of the outrageous, if you have to," I advised. "She'll be shocked at the time, but reassured later."

Oliver straightened his cock in his pants knelt to one side and behind Vera. "Feel free to masturbate -- in fact, I insist..." The vibe began buzzing in his hand and I watched him run it along the crack of Vera's ass. "Do a good job..." Grinning, I let myself out. Oliver was going to have his hands full -- but I could virtually guarantee that Vera would be pliant in the morning.

Whistling, I headed upstairs to check on the rest of my entourage. The bedroom where the children were housed was crowded, but quiet; a glance told me that baby Shawna was asleep, as was Elise -- and Abe was losing his fight with consciousness. I beckoned Beth out of the room. "Do you have any lubricant?" I asked her. "Sexual lubricant? KY, perhaps?"

"I might..." Beth looked down and away and her face was red.

"I've already seen the vibrator -- your mother is borrowing it. Or more properly, your father is borrowing it to use on her." I grinned as Beth covered her face. I kissed her on the neck. "You worry about the silliest things. Take the lube down to the study and deliver it to your father."

"Oh, Gawd! I can't do that!" Beth gasped.

"You WILL or I'll use that riding crop on your butt!" I insisted. "What's it going to be?"

"I'll... get the lube."

"Your mother will no doubt thank you," I assured her.

I followed her as she went into her room and raided what was no doubt the same bedside drawer that Frieda had surfaced the vibrator from, then went downstairs and gingerly entered her father's study. Vera was no longer eating Frieda; Frieda, looking exhausted, was holding Vera's head against her belly while Vera, still kneeling between her legs, moaned and squirmed under the attack of the vibrator in Oliver's hands. The vibe must have been a good one, because Vera seemed to be on the ropes already, moaning, "No... Please... No more... I can't..."

Beth minced up to her father and said diffidently, "Here, Daddy," holding out the bottle.

Oliver looked up. "Oh, good. Pour a little on my fingers." While he was distracted, Vera tried to push the vibrator away -- another good sign that she was overloaded. I stepped in and grabbed the hand and gave it to Frieda, who got the hint and grasped her other wrist, too. Vera continued to wail, "Please... Stop... No more... I can't... do it... any more..." Her pussy and asshole were both pulsing; she was either in continuous orgasm or maybe in the aftermath of one.

About that time, Oliver, his middle finger wet with lube, timed her anal pulsations and pushed the digit straight into Vera's asshole to the second knuckle when the rubbery ring popped open! Vera's eyes bulged and she drew a breath and I snapped, "Frieda!" and put my hand over my mouth -- and Frieda covered Vera's in time to muzzle her scream; Vera went limp -- but not before her pussy absolutely gushed!

"I think you got her attention, Oliver!" I chuckled.

Oliver nodded tightly. "That will no doubt be a lesson in what I can and cannot accomplish," he remarked in satisfaction.

"A recommendation?" I offered. "When she wakes up, use her. Get a blowjob or something. Get yours, and she doesn't get any."

Oliver nodded. "Good plan." He pulled Vera's limp body off Frieda and nodded her out of the chair. "Good night."

"Good night, Mr. H," Frieda got up and gave him a peck on the cheek as he rearranged Vera, placing her head and shoulders on the chair seat, then thought better of it and pushed the chair away and laid her out on the rug. Looking at me, she asked, "What are we doing tonight, Master?"

I pursed my lips. "I'm doing Beth, for starters. After that, I'm not sure."

"I think I've had mine," Frieda related.

I nodded. "Okay." Turning to Oliver, I asked, "Are you done with the vibrator?"

"Yes." Oliver retrieved it and examined it for a moment. It was a pink jelly item with lots of bumps and ridges. Handing it to Beth, he said, "Very effective." I detected a bit of fang in his smile. Beth blushed crimson. I laughed and waved her at the door and we headed upstairs.

The night seemed to be never-ending! First, there was that bar -- I mean, we just sat back from dinner and had an orgy! Then I got wrung out worrying and telling Beth the sordid tale of her mother's teenage adventures as a fuck pig, and we moved on to collecting Tara's children and the black girl, Keisha -- Oliver making a point of showing me that I could be replaced by almost anything in the process. Then we got home and in the middle of the night I had to set up accommodations for five additional people, three of whom were young children! Thank God I had help! I was exhausted when Oliver called me into his study -- and I suddenly descended into Hell...

Jack didn't seem to be instigating -- for once -- but he was there, along with Frieda. Oliver's tone when he delivered that first damning question made me wish I could curl up and die, right there, kneeling at his feet! The question was too pointed -- was it merely the result of my making a disgusting spectacle of myself with three different strangers at the restaurant, or had someone sold me out, relating my deepest, darkest secrets? Frieda was there, and she had a talent for torture, but when I looked at her, she indicated that she wasn't the source of Oliver's information. Was she lying? Was Oliver just guessing? Could I maintain the cover-up, or was this a trap? The look on Oliver's face when he threatened to beat me -- that wasn't the Ollie I was used to dealing with. I didn't even TRY to weasel my way out -- it wasn't going to happen. Somewhere in that thought process, I realized that the mere length of time I'd taken was an answer in itself, so I capitulated.

Once started down the slippery slope, there was nothing to do but let it all gush out. I was scared to death of the possible results of my confession, but released by the process of making it. All I could do was put myself in the hands of the love of my life and hope...

Oliver's attitude confused me. That godawful disgusting wallow with those men in the bar was irrelevant -- but the fact that I'd never given of myself fully had him angry. The fact that I fucked strangers in his presence -- more than one -- was forgivable because he had a hand in it, apparently, even though I made a disgusting spectacle of myself. But the fact that I'd hidden my nature from him -- lied -- withheld information -- THAT was what he was beside himself over!

It was clear to me that my sordid past had been revealed -- and I had to know who betrayed me! Surely not Beth... But then Jack said that it had been one of those AI things, listening in the van, that had delivered the tipoff. I didn't believe him, of course -- what AI? But when he offered to go out and return with a complete recording of my confession, I realized from looking into his eyes that he wasn't bluffing. I had condemned myself...

Curiously, when I thought the whole thing was building to a climax that would end in my being banished from his sight at the very least, Oliver subsided, noting that he realized that I had done what I thought best. I wasn't forgiven, but it was an acknowledgement of extenuating circumstances.

But then the demands began. I was to reveal myself, display my true nature -- release the bonds on my sexuality. How on Earth was the exposure of the fact that I was a total slut -- a fuck-pig -- going to help our relationship? The vision of the future I saw before me was black and ugly -- but I had no choice in the matter; Oliver made that clear. He seemed to think that he could supply my needs, one way or another...

Then he moved on to more questions. When he asked about anal sex, I was saddened. I knew it was of particular interest to him -- and I'd had that hole plundered in my slut-pig phase, just like the other two, so I couldn't offer him ANYTHING that was his alone -- and now he knew it.

The question about girls took me totally by surprise; frankly, it had never seriously occurred to me to practice anything sexual with a girl after I started having sex with guys. Jack's explanation made sense -- but it opened up an ugly side issue. If Oliver were to go away for a time and I gave in to my nature, it would be detected -- and the punishments went right up the scale to death! It was another reason NOT to unlock that door -- but Oliver wasn't taking no for an answer! I was in deep, deep water...