Chapter 76

I was a little irritated about the hullabaloo over Jasper Harmon's little Hispanic harem when it began on Monday -- I mean, it was just more of the same thing we'd been seeing, wasn't it? The teaching staff hadn't really gotten into the swing of things for some reason, though, so Jasper stuck out. Oh, there had been some collection of first- and second-grade teachers, who for some reason seemed to be predominately female concubines, by older male teachers, but there hadn't been a lot of fishing outside the staff pool. In some ways, Jasper was SO predictable -- but why he felt he had to take on both her hulking brute of a father and her elephantine mother in order to acquire young Guadalupe Montoya defied rational explanation. Jasper didn't seem to be that excited on Tuesday, so I figured it served him right; the idiot OBVIOUSLY hadn't taken anyone down to Medical to fix their physical issues, either. Athletic coaches...

Wednesday evening, however, he had CLEARLY discovered where Medical was; young Guadalupe's acne was cleared up and her mother had been reduced to something still a bit wide, but presentable. Even the male looked vaguely better... But the talk of the table was the fact that he had acquired a SECOND family -- including a young MALE concubine! His mother clearly wasn't any catch, but young Peter Donovan looked tasty -- and provided SERIOUS food for thought!

There were no males in my life; adult males are troublesome creatures with no finer feelings and a miserable collection of bad habits -- I cannot abide them! But a fourteen year old boy, on the other hand, might be trainable! He would possess youth and vigor and yet still be biddable and grateful for my mentoring and attentions -- yes, the idea CERTAINLY had merit!

The lack of male companionship I suffered under did not mean that I lacked normal desires -- I had merely learned that by the time they reach college age, the average male is odious and incapable of being tolerated by me for any length of time. Exceptional males tended to have exceptional issues; a charmer doesn't stop charming with one woman, but tends to continuously draw in new victims, leaving his current paramour devastated and moving on to the next in succession, for example. Men are just trouble...

Okay, perhaps I'm a bit snippy --have you ever met a high school English teacher -- male or female -- who wasn't? We spend our lives hoping to recognize that next great novelist or poet as he or she breezes through our classroom, miserably aware that WE are not capable of generating that product... One tends to get, well, a bit sour...

I thought about it and decided that the optimum solution might involve a fourteen year old boy and his mother. We could share the boy -- and having his mother around, while decidedly incestuous, would be of tremendous help in controlling him and keeping him well-behaved. The idea that the result might be analogous to producing Norman Bates occurred to me, but I dismissed it as fantasy. I began poring over the available candidates...

David Langston looked promising. He was very handsome, with his dark, curly hair and his freckles -- not to mention a certain lack of bulky hairy musculature. I'd met Alma Langston on a couple of occasions and she was a motherly woman who appeared to have standards. David always appeared to be well-mannered, too, no doubt due to her influence...

When the AI established communications, I got Alma, of course. "Oh, good evening, Ms. Braxton," she said cheerily, "What can I do for you?"

"Good evening, Mrs. Langston," I returned, smiling, "I thought I would check to see how you and young David are getting on..."

Alma assumed an oddly cautious expression and said, "As well as can be expected, I guess. Davey is absolutely traumatized -- all this nudity. Really, do you think a young man his age ought to be exposed to nudity in his own mother?" Alma addressed me seated at a table, one arm strategically placed to obscure her nipples. Poor thing -- I could only agree...

"It IS a bit rude," I agreed. "Look, Mrs. Langston, I'll get to the point -- has anyone offered to sponsor you and David?"

"Offers are a bit thin at present..." Alma allowed.

"I wondered if we might sit down and discuss it. David is such a well-mannered young man..."

Alma's eyes lit. "My! That might be a pleasant prospect!"

"Are you busy this evening?" I asked.

"No, not at present..."

"Let me see if I can arrange..." I began -- then the AI projected 'Suite 1172, available immediately' below the projection of Alma. "Could you and young David meet me in Suite Eleven Seventy-Two in a few minutes, then?" I continued.

"Why, I believe so! We'll be right along!"

"Goodbye, then. I'll see you there..." I closed the call. I headed to the bath and primped a bit for young David's benefit and headed for the suite.

Alma and David were both there, looking somewhat reserved, when I arrived. I ignored the silly position things and waved Alma into a seat. David diffidently waited until I was settled and sat, too. "So Mr. Langston didn't make it to Family Day?" I offered as a conversational opening.

"Oh, my -- there has been no Mr. Langston for quite some time I'm afraid -- except Davey, of course," Alma replied, seemingly amused.

"I see..." I replied -- although obviously I didn't.

"After Davey was born, I really didn't have much time to devote to other pursuits -- besides, nothing else really had a priority in my life above seeing to Davey's welfare," Alma related. "Howard felt it was just as well if he left me to it, so he provided us a stipend and moved on..."

I absorbed this. "Howard had other priorities, then?"

"Well, that, and some bad habits. Things just became intolerable..." Alma related.

"It's just as well, I'm sure," I commiserated, smiling. Better to have no male influences at home than bad ones... "As I indicated, I'm looking for a well-mannered young man with finer sensibilities to take care of my, um, various needs. David seems to fit the bill perfectly."

Oddly, both David and Alma seemed to retreat a bit into their shells at that point. I absorbed this, somewhat puzzled, before continuing diffidently, "Of course, I would be unable to supervise him twenty-four hours a day, so it seems an elegant solution to have his mother available to see to his needs and continued discipline and support..."

Both mother and son relaxed immediately; clearly, there had been some concern that I might split them up. "Oh, thank goodness!" Alma erupted. We sat around smiling; I basked in her evident relief.

After a moment, though, I gathered myself and entered the minefield. "I'm afraid I should probably have to broach a rather delicate subject at this point," I noted. Both of them assumed the most amazing poker faced expressions. "Children are, of course, an issue. I'll want David to see to my needs in that area, and since I will be teaching, the burdens of child-rearing would necessarily fall to you." I hesitated for a moment, then plunged on, "I really have nothing to offer in compensation, except perhaps something you both might find unthinkable..."

Mother and son shared a glance. "And that would be?" Alma asked.

I picked at my fingers nervously; this could ruin everything improperly approached... "Well, you, too, should have children. I really don't see introducing any large, hulking hairy brute to the family as a good thing, do you?"

"No..." Alma murmured, watching me closely.

"It would seem most convenient to work within existing resources," I said carefully. "Young David could..."

Both of them relaxed visibly. "Yes, I see your point," Alma replied. "Davey, you wouldn't see any problem in extending our little bedtime cuddle to the point of pleasing Mama fully occasionally, would you?"

David watched me carefully while he replied, "No, I'm sure that would be fine, Mama..."

I know I blushed; I felt more than a little dense -- and more than a little foolish. THAT was a dead issue, then... Alma, eyeing me closely, managed to keep the feathers out of her mouth while she said, "Davey, why don't you look about for a place where Ms. Braxton can be comfortable while you show her how adept you are at easing a woman's tensions?"

"Yes, Mama." David surged up from his chair and crossed the room. Opening a door, he feigned surprise, "Oh, look! A bed!"

Forty-five minutes and seven orgasms later, I owned two quite satisfactory concubines. David was trained to perfection; he was adept with his tongue and even more so with his beautiful penis -- and Alma seemed to have no compunction at all about kissing a woman -- among other things... Her grasp on decorum tended to slip at times, but I found her wailing, "Oh Davey! Fuck Mama! Mama wants her little man to give her lots of big babies! Give Mama a big belly!" quite arousing... He was inexhaustible, too; by the time we reached my quarters, he was ready to go around with me again a second time!

By Wednesday, it seemed like things were almost peaceful. Everyone had been given over a week to get used to things and the 'Chicken Little' kinds of issues we had the first few days had slowed way down. Families were being absorbed, slowly, and couples had stopped rushing into Splitsville, although the numbers were climbing again. Mark and Vera and Maureen and that Gonzalo guy had things to do, but the kinds of crap caused by the initial stresses and strains had damped out.

Nobody was hassling me much; I was hip deep in women and kids and at least two of them wanted my attention every night; fortunately, I'd hired a fully competent back door man in Mack Taylor.

Beth just glowed; being pregnant seemed to be her ultimate state of happiness. She was so cute; I wanted to sleep with her every night, but I had other women to attend to. On the flip side, she wouldn't open herself to Mack; I was her man, period. I could have enforced something else, but she'd have been hurt and upset by it -- and everyone else had a handle on it and none of the other women was excited. I think it was because they all knew that without Beth, they flat wouldn't be here...

Michael was okay, and the girls were cute -- but Abe was the star of the show as far as I was concerned; that kid was a corker! Every day, it seemed, he would come out with SOMETHING that lit me off... Naked women were, of course, boring, but that didn't keep him from going up to a woman at mess and asking her if her back hurt because of the way she hunched over to walk. The woman had jugs the size of Texas watermelons and an ass to match, which was most of the problem... Most people enjoyed Abe's take on things -- even this particular woman, who sat with us for a while with Abe on her lap. The kid WOULD have been obnoxious -- but he was unfailingly polite.

I guess someone had to upset the apple cart; I got a call Wednesday afternoon to zip down to an interview suite and see what could be done to rescue the situation. Basically, a concubine couple with a female tenth-grader and a male eighth-grader attracted the eye of another family man who had a female seventh-grader and a spouse/concubine. The sponsor started putting the concubine females through their paces -- nothing horrible, really; he was masturbating them to climax to see what their response curve looked like -- but the concubine male took offense and he and the son waded in and the operator on duty was a little slow on the uptake and the sponsor got a broken arm and the male concubines got stung. The male concubines -- both of them -- were up the creek, technically, but I wanted to see what I could do, first. I got there to find four hysterical women and two unconscious concubine males and the medics going over the sponsor. "Thirty minutes in a tube and he'll be better than new," the medic provided for an assessment.

I turned to the guy and said, "You have the right to put these two down, but I'd rather we took a run at fixing things. The women are pretty freaked and it just isn't a great start to setting up a family to toast a couple of relatives right away. Can we talk about this after you get back?"

To his credit, the guy looked bothered. "Yeah, okay."

"I'll do a little preliminary investigating while you're out," I told him. "If they're too stupid to live, I'LL handle it -- how's that?"

"Yeah, okay." He nodded again. He was eyeing the young male.

"Is there anything I should know?" I asked quietly. I waved him toward the door. Outside the room, I said, "Go ahead -- I'm not judgmental. Were you thinking about taking a walk on the wild side?"

"Maybe." He looked embarrassed. "Mine would never guess, you know?"

I shrugged. "Not their business -- particularly now. Your woman doesn't have unhappy ex-spouse syndrome, does she?"

"It hasn't been a problem."

"The girl is, what, thirteen? Which way is she going?" I asked.

"Concubine, probably," he admitted. "I barely made it."

"Is she Daddy's girl? Is she going to be?"

"Not sure. I hear it isn't a problem, but..." He shrugged. "I won't press her, in any case."

I waved him off with the medic. "Shoot on down and get that fixed." Going back into the suite, I started sorting things out. The concubine family was the Ericssons -- Thomas, the father, Matthew, the son, Helen the mother and Patrice, the daughter. Patrice was a nice-looking blonde piece and Helen didn't hurt the eye, either; Thomas and Matthew were both All-American male model types, also blond. On the sponsor side, everyone was a brunette; Frances Carpenter was the mate/mother and Geraldine was the thirteen-year-old. Frankly, they weren't hard to look at, either. Randall, the sponsor, was on his way to Medical. "Wake 'em up," I told the medic who stayed to monitor the sleeping beauties.

Turning to the Ericsson women, I said, "This has the potential of being pretty serious. What was going on?"

"Well, the guy did a pretty thorough exam of Mom, you know?" Patrice said. "He'd moved on to me and he had two fingers in me and was playing with my ass..." She got a little pink at that point.

"Did he hurt you -- either of you?" I asked.

Helen shook her head. "Embarrassed me, but..."

"God, no!" Patrice whispered, "I had a hold of his arm to keep him from going anywhere -- I was about to cum!" Frances Carpenter looked a little bothered, but I noticed that Geraldine wasn't wildly upset.

"Could your father have misinterpreted things?" I asked.

"Yeah, real easily, I bet," Patrice replied, nodding. "You know how it is when you're gonna cum -- lots of times it's hard to tell whether you're enjoying things or it hurts. Dad, though -- well, we've been hanging back because he hasn't gotten it. He's not the brightest bulb in the circuit."

"Patrice!" Helen erupted. I had the AI project CAP scores, though, and Patrice was on the money. Helen was smarter -- almost smart enough, really -- and Patrice and Matthew both had their father outgunned. I'd wondered how they hadn't been scooped up -- they were 'beautiful people'; clearly, once again, there was evidence that beauty was only skin deep...

"How did Matthew get into the mix?" I asked.

"I think he was trying to stop it without clueing Dad in," Patrice replied. "He was in the way a lot." She paused. "I'm sixteen, and I've been in the track for a couple of years. I'm not a virgin and I'm ready, you know? Matthew is, too, actually. Mom's gonna be all right -- but Dad... It's gonna take something..."

"I have this as VERY serious," Helen murmured, "Am I right?"

"You're on target," I agreed. "The default action is to recycle them both. I'm looking to fix things, if possible."

"God..." Helen muttered.

"I'll talk to Randall," Frances Carpenter promised.

"This is what I see as needing to happen," I told them. "First, if possible, we need to clear Matthew. Second, and potentially more difficult, we need to fix things so Randall is confident that Thomas is not a threat. If we can't do that..." Everyone looked grim.

"Okay, they're up," the medic announced. Both Ericsson males were sitting up groggily.

I went over to them and said, "Well, hi, there! I'm sure neither of you feels very well right now, but it could be worse; we're trying to decide whether next time you wake up dead or not."

"What?" Thomas' face was all squinched up. Undoubtedly both light and sound were painful to him right now.

"I'm saying that you breaking a sponsor's arm is a death sentence. You're on appeal!" I told him.

"WHAT? But he was..." Thomas grabbed his head.

"What WAS he doing?" I asked. "Patrice, what was he doing?"

"He was masturbating me," Patrice replied.

"Were you hurting?" I pressed.

"No. Dad, he wasn't hurting me at all!" Patrice shifted her attention to her father.

"That stuff isn't right!" Thomas insisted.

"It is if he says it is -- especially once you're his property," I advised the man. "Even if he HAD been hurting her, that was his business -- and Patrice's. If Patrice accepts him as her sponsor and he wants to use a bullwhip on her once a week, that's between them. You have no say in the matter." I turned to the son. "Matthew, I'm told that you were trying to intervene between your father and the sponsor -- is that correct?"

"Yeah." The kid nodded. "I didn't want to rub Dad's nose in it, but I was deliberately getting in the way."

<Video surveillance supports this,> the AI told me -- unnecessarily, since I'd seen it.

I dropped back ten and punted. Pointing at Helen, I asked, "Who is this woman?"

"She's my wife..." Thomas began.

I rolled my eyes. "WRONG! I KNOW this has been covered, multiple times... She's the mother of your children. She's been your mate. But your marriage has been dissolved. If a sponsor takes her, she belongs to HIM, not you -- and you have only the rights regarding her that he grants you! Tell me you haven't heard this?"

"It's bullshit." Thomas waved it off tiredly.

"It's life and death! YOURS!" I insisted. "I got that sponsor to CONSIDER not having you killed! It isn't over yet! If you can't prove to him that you know what the fuck is going on and are not now and never again will be a physical threat to him, you're DEAD!"

"That's illegal!" Thomas ranted.

"Where?" I asked.

"America..."

"Where do you think you are? Where do you think America is?" I asked. "I have news -- it's nowhere close, and you're never going to see the place again! You're in a foreign country and they have different rules -- VERY different rules! You're applying for your green card -- and flunking the entrance exam, I might add!"

"He's right, Dad! This is NOT America!" Matthew chimed in. Clearly, youth and vigor allowed Matthew a faster recovery from stinger fire.

"I just can't believe..." Thomas insisted.

"It is what it is," I told him. "The numbers on your CAP card make you livestock and not human -- and the same thing applies to Helen and Patrice and Matthew. That man was inspecting livestock when he felt up Helen and Patrice. Let me ask you -- have you ever dated and felt like you got a pig in a poke? This guy is picking women to have kids by, you know? He deserves to know if the equipment works!"

"This can't be real," Thomas mumbled. "Like that TV show with that couple and the three black guys..."

"Big mistake..." I muttered.

"What?"

"I watched it -- live. You want to meet the poor fuck? AI, put up the feed for Crewman Harris and Ed Whatshisname. Am I in the frame somewhere?" I asked.

"Affirmative," the AI intoned and started the video in three dimensions -- then magnified the corner where I was standing, looking sick. Thomas looked from the projection to me and back. "Ooohhh, boy..."

"Get me Crewman Harris' quarters," I told the AI. Video came up -- of Ed Evans. "Manuel Harris' quarters..."

"Hi, Ed," I said. "You don't know me, but I was there..."

Ed got this look on his face. "And?"

"Look, I've got this guy with me -- a male concubine. He thinks we did that for TV."

"He WHAT?"

"Yeah. Some people... I'm TRYING to save his life," I told Ed.

"Look, Stupid!" Ed rasped, "That was MY ASS, okay? There is NOTHING more real than being bent over..." He shuddered.

"Where is Donna?" I asked.

"Cooper and LaRue have her tonight." Ed's grin was almost feral.

I turned to Thomas. "Questions? Comments?"

"Thank you..." Thomas waved vaguely and turned away, his face pasty-white.

"You get over it, sort of," Ed said quietly. "Every day isn't like that one. In fact, I haven't had its like since. But you remember..."

"Thanks, Ed," I told him. "We're done." The AI killed the communications and the recording feeds.

"Now what?" Thomas croaked.

"I want you to try to get your head around this whole thing while I talk to your family. Then they're going to talk to you. Last, but by no means least, that sponsor is coming back -- and he's going to want to know that you are going to let him do anything he wants and not even blink." I gathered the rest of the Ericssons and led them some distance away.

"You're off the hook," I told Matthew, "Except..."

"Except what?" he asked.

"Except that if I was Randall Carpenter, I would put all three of you through the wringer in front of Thomas to see if he's going to get stupid again," I replied. "You're all three up for anything he can come up with, basically. I think he's a nice guy, from limited contact and the looks of his family -- but if I was him, I'd take lessons in how to be an asshole and practice on the three of you until I was SURE Thomas has had his fangs pulled! Oral, anal, fisting, water sports -- you name it, the door is open. That goes for all three of you -- Matthew, I hope school prepared you mentally to take a dick. Between now and when Randall returns, you need to explain in no uncertain terms to Thomas what is expected of him -- which is nothing but obedience. If Randall tells him to stick both thumbs up his ass and bend real close so he can shoot on his face after butt-fucking one of you..."

"God..." Helen moaned.

"I am deadly serious," I told them. "The test is over when Randall says it is over. That could be next Tuesday. He can bring in those three black guys if he wants. If Thomas so much as twitches in the wrong direction, he's dead -- right then and there. You have until Randall returns to make him understand. This is all I can do for him; he's already under a death sentence. He's working for clemency -- and it isn't a gimme!" I waved them off toward Thomas.

Frances Carpenter eyed me. "I heard some of that. Randall can't..."

"Maybe not. But if he decides to, it will because he doesn't want you to die beside him one dark night," I replied. "What would YOU do to ensure Geraldine's safety?" Frances pursed her lips and looked away.

It was twenty minutes before Randall showed up. About halfway there, I went over to the Ericssons and asked, "How is it going?"

Thomas drew a breath. "I get it, at least."

"When he comes, I want you to go over and give him a real sincere apology, all knelt up like you're supposed to be. Maybe that will do it -- but I wouldn't plan on it," I told him. He nodded and I withdrew; he would be ready or he wouldn't.

A few minutes later, the AI informed me, <Randall Carpenter has arrived.> I went out into the corridor to meet him.

"Okay, it's like this," I told him. "The guy is sorry, and he's going to tell you so. What you do after that is up to you. You can have him killed, or you can test him until you feel comfortable that he's not going to be a problem to you."

"What if I just decide I'm not interested in this family?" Randall asked.

"Sorry, I can't let you off the hook," I told him. "You are the injured party -- it is up to you to determine whether the concubine represents a danger to you and other sponsors. You literally have all of the resources you care to bring to bear, but of course if you go nuts, he WILL break at some point and you might as well just kill him."

"It's a different kind of justice..." he muttered.

"It's personal responsibility. You make the decision for the community as a whole," I replied. "If you want my advice, you won't go too easy -- and you'll send Frances and Geraldine home. What you'll be doing won't be much like the Randall they know and love." He nodded and we went in.

Thomas crawled into Randall's immediate presence and assumed the position. "I'm real sorry," he said. "In the first place, I thought you were injuring my daughter -- and I was wrong about that. In the second, I was stupid and didn't understand a lot of things that have been made clear to me since."

Randall pursed his lips and turned to Frances and Geraldine. "Go home, Fran. Take Gerry with you. I'll be along soon." Frances wasn't happy, but she led Geraldine off dutifully. When the door closed, Randall flicked me a glance and said to Thomas, "I'd love to be able to wave my hand and say it's all okay -- but I can't. It's not just about me -- you may represent a danger to a lot of people. But I can't take the easy way out and order you killed, either, so we're going to have to suffer through a few tests of your sincerity." He started tugging off clothing. "I want you to know at the outset that this isn't anything like the way I plan to deal with the group of you. These are special circumstances; I'm going to go to the Dark Side for a little while, after which I'll no doubt be ashamed of myself. But we'll know if you can behave..." He waved at Herlen, Patrice, and Matthew. "Line up, the three of you -- Presentation Three." Poker-faced, Helen, Patrice, and Matthew lined up with their asses in the air facing Thomas. "Pick one," Randall instructed Thomas.

I don't think Thomas expected to have to participate -- I really hadn't thought that much about it. "Helen," he croaked, after a moment.

Randall turned to her, then stopped. I went over to him. "Need something?"

"Good lubricant? Plastic gloves? I'm going to fist her," he said quietly.

"I'll run errands." The AI had the stuff in the replicator before I got there. Randall took the supplies and with great ceremony opened poor Helen's ass, one finger at a time, and then when he had all four fingers in her, he pushed his hand inside her. He did a good job with the lubricant; it hurt her, but I knew that it could have been a LOT worse -- and she did, too. Randall twisted the fist around in her a bit, then withdrew it -- doubled up. Helen limited herself to grunts and groans. Thomas shook like a dog shitting razor blades, but he didn't break position.

Randall stripped off the shitty glove and placed it on the tray I'd delivered it on, then turned to Thomas. "Pick one."

I think they had made a plan for this, because Thomas screwed up his face, but said, "Helen."

"Helen is out of the rotation for now," Randall said quietly. "Pick one."

There was a good thirty second delay before, "Matthew," Thomas gusted.

"Come here," Randall beckoned Thomas. Thomas crawled forward. "Lick his ass. Stick your tongue in there. Do a good job -- it's all the lubrication he gets."

Thomas' eyes closed, but he turned to Matthew and started licking and poking Matthew's bunghole. Matthew started moaning and groaning and got seriously erect; clearly, it was pleasurable. After a couple of minutes, Randall said, "That's enough." Thomas backed off. Randall eyed him and said, "You can suck me if you want to add to the lubrication." I think Thomas was almost happy about that; he felt that he deserved it, probably. In any case, he leaned in and started sucking.

Sometime after that, Randall decided not to fuck Matthew. Instead, he asked Thomas, "Would you rather finish me?" Thomas nodded. "Do we understand each other?" Thomas nodded again. "All right." Randall took Thomas by the head and moved him where he wanted him -- and Thomas didn't fight it. Fairly quickly, Randall groaned and Thomas started swallowing. Randall hung out for a bit, enjoying the aftermath; Thomas didn't complain. After a bit, Randall stepped back. "I had other plans, but we're done. You can all go to attention; Thomas, you take the end down there past Matthew."

Everyone reoriented. Randall stood there for a moment, then said, "For a while there, I thought I was going to go totally over to the dark side. I was going to fuck Matthew and make Thomas suck the cum out of one of you women after I fucked her and God knows what else. I'm a little freaked right now. I don't know if it makes sense for me to make an offer at this point, after all that has gone before. What do you think? Should we continue? Each of you speaks for himself in this -- you don't have to follow the crowd."

Patrice raised her hand; Randall gestured for her to speak. "None of that stuff is really way out there," she said. "I mean, Dad might treat it as punishment if it is delivered that way, but if we were, like, having a big sex party, he might do it and think nothing of it. We went through a lot of stuff at school -- not doing it, just kind of looking at the head games involved. People even voluntarily do what you did to Mom."

"So..." Randall murmured.

"No problem," Patrice replied.

Matthew stuck his hand up. "Go ahead," Randall invited.

"I was ready," Matthew said. "That's on the list. We don't DO it -- or we didn't -- because of how some people would get all bent out of shape, but it's on the list for male concubines. Fucking, sucking..." He shrugged. "No problem."

Helen raised her hand. Randall waved permission and she said, "That was quite a demonstration, but you didn't go out of your way to make it hurt. It probably looked worse than it was." She flicked a glance at Thomas, then said, "No problem."

Thomas pursed his lips and raised his hand. Randall shrugged, so Thomas went ahead and said, "I think I still have a tab to pay -- but I'm happy to pay it. No problem."

Randall scratched an ear. "I'm kind of surprised. Pandora's box is open, though; I'm not promising I won't fuck you, Matthew. Since I'm apparently not as wild as I think I am, maybe we'll be doing a little more than I showed up here expecting to offer. If you think you're interested, I'll take any or all of you; let me know."

The only open question appeared to be whether Thomas was prepared to say yes -- and he was. I sat through the officialdom and then I had to wade through handshakes and hugs. It was a good day's work -- two fewer dead bodies. I headed home looking for a blowjob from Tara.