Chapter 78

He'd told me it was coming, but after we sat through an hour or so of Janine taking every cock in sight, I sort of figured Master would pass on using me for sex that night. Well, it didn't happen that way, as it turned out. I knew something was up when he had the AI manipulate the bed to elevate Janine on her stomach, oriented more or less in my direction -- so when Master said, "Kneel up, Slut, it's time you lost your cherry," I wasn't TOTALLY surprised.

Having just spent over an hour watching Janine being brutalized, I figured it was going to be bad -- but it wasn't. Master took his time and used lube and his fingers to get me started and had Bitch and Penny talk to me and keep me calm. It hurt, for sure, and I knew he was in there when he forced his way in, but he didn't rip me a new asshole -- he just opened up the one I had. Penny rubbed my back and Bitch reached under to play with my... -- well, I think it is still a cock -- and I tried to listen and relax and it could have been a LOT worse...

In fact, it got better -- MUCH better -- once he was in and had taken all of the territory he was going to. This had to be another example of how I was being messed with, physically, but it got enjoyable and I got hard. Then he stopped and made Janine crawl under me and suck me and things just got WILD! He hunched over me and rubbed my... titties... and it didn't matter that he was pouring it to me like a slide-hammer -- it felt GREAT! I squirted once into Janine's mouth, and I got off once dry and somewhere in there I realized that the more he treated me like a woman, the more I liked it! I wanted to talk to that Toni person -- did getting fucked in the pussy feel better than what I was getting in my ass? If it did, I wanted Master to hook me up with it! I went to sleep with a hand on my left tit and a dick in the crack of my ass -- and that was just fine...

Things kept getting worse! Wednesday morning started with an interminable series of blowjobs to strangers -- and when I gave up on the whole thing, Master Troy threw Drew into the lineup to replace me! This totally alienated Penny -- not at Master, but at ME! And I got to watch poor Drew learn to suck dicks -- what else was he going to do? And it was all my fault... Master rubbed my nose in it by having me service poor Drew -- not just sucking him, but playing with his man-boobs and -- even more unspeakable -- fingering his ass! It was disgusting for me and demeaning for Drew -- but he just took it, like he always does...

We finished and went back to Master's quarters -- and Penny unloaded on me, supported by Bitch. Drew didn't seem to have much in the way of hard feelings, which only made it worse! I tried to explain myself and made the mistake of mentioning the fact that Drew had actually managed a couple of orgasms and Penny literally flew at me and started hitting and kicking me!

Master stopped it -- but only in order to deliver me to Penny and Bitch's tender mercies for punishment. I got THREE enemas! And Penny made SURE I was miserable for each and every one of them by making me do things and standing or sitting on my bloated stomach while the cramps left me totally wrung out... During the second enema, we went out into the main room; Drew was sucking Master's cock. Penny was infuriated and made me lie on the floor and then stood on my stomach -- it was AGONY! Master took pity on me, sort of, telling Penny that it wasn't ALL my fault -- but he didn't let me off the hook... They abused the shit out of me with Master and Drew looking on, Drew still sucking Master's cock. It was just another slap in the face, watching him meekly suck a cock...

They weren't done with me, I discovered. I wasn't allowed to eat supper, then Master took the three of us (Bitch got some private time with her little boy) back to the place where we had spent the morning -- and he knelt me up and tacked my collar to the floor and turned loose half of the crew to fuck me! It was... HORRIBLE! I lost count of the dicks that got stuck in me -- and that doesn't count the other abuse! Some guy stuck his FIST up my pussy! Guys peed on me and pulled my nipples and, well, anything they could think of, apparently! It was like every male in creation was getting even with every female -- through me! It went on and on -- and I couldn't even seem to zone out and just take it... If I wanted to, I could probably remember every stroke -- but who would want to? After what seemed like a whole day, they rolled me onto some kind of self-propelled stretcher and I THOUGHT I was going to Medical to have my ass and pussy put back together. No such luck; we went home and they propped me up on the bed with a front row seat to Master sticking his dick up poor Drew's ass... I was ashamed and disgusted for him -- until Master ordered me to suck Drew again and play with his man-boobs -- and Drew had a couple of orgasms from Master's fucking!

Penny was fit to be tied; I was still on the hook for all of this 'abuse' of her father. If she'd had her mouth around his cock, drinking his... Scratch that -- they've been coming too close to incest as it is. Let's just say that it appeared to me that Drew was bearing up well, after all... Master talked to her some, but I'm still the enemy.

I'm still in the doghouse, too -- currently, I'm occupying Drew's place at the foot of the bed. Master has taken to referring to Drew as 'Slut' -- and from MY perspective, he's acting like one...

This morning -- that would be Thursday of this, our second week in space -- was the second or third time in a year or two that I felt like an actual living person when I got up. Now, I didn't get up until noon, but that's been my work day, lately. I spent last night with a couple of sad guys who had been booted out of long-term relationships by their spouses so the women could go to sponsors. It's my job -- and I'm starting to see it as a calling.

At first, it was something else, altogether. You see, I've been addicted to painkillers for a couple of years. It cost me my boyfriend, then my job, then my self-respect, then... Well, the list goes on and on. I've done a lot of crap I really don't want to think about or have to admit to, you know? An addict does... The most obvious thing was hooking for drug money; I could get unemployment off and on, but that doesn't pay for dope. I think I've done every disgusting thing a hooker can do -- except eat shit -- and I might have done that if I'd been asked and the money had been right. Fucking wasn't anything exciting; when I was high, I couldn't feel it, and when I was in between and looking for a fix, I hurt all over -- what was a dick gonna do to me that was worse than what was already happening to me?

My sister got me on this joyride, somehow -- and the first thing I heard was "Drugs? Ain't no drugs. We don't use 'em. We can fix you, though... To keep you from jonesing, you need endorphins -- that's what we're replacing your current addiction with-- and you can get them from sex. So when you need to get high, find somebody and fuck him." What the fuck? But it worked, after a fashion...

Thing was, I wasn't a good fuck. I was a frigging zombie and I had bad habits. I'd never been a big money whore in the first place; I was just a collection of holes that guys paid money to masturbate in. That didn't change right away -- largely because it REALLY didn't occur to me that it had to. Well, it did, as it turned out -- you see, these guys all had old ladies; they weren't losers who got laid every once in a blue moon and really didn't care how I reacted as long as I provided a mouth or a pussy or an ass. They knew the difference between someone fucking and someone just lying there -- and I wasn't going to get any repeat business just lying there. Since I was trying to do what I did when I was out hooking -- fifteen guys a night -- things didn't go well. I alienated a bunch of guys and my reputation spread through the group like wildfire -- and it really wasn't working for me, anyway.

They pulled me back in and we had a talk -- some big Civil Service chick that was an acquaintance of Sis's sat me down and fed me the facts of life. I got told that what I wanted wasn't about collecting the maximum amount of semen in a given period, it was about how it felt. Good sex would give me the rush I was looking for -- the problem was, I really didn't remember how to do it RIGHT; I was used to concentrating on FAST!

Sis -- and this Gonzalo guy who was in charge of all the guys who weren't owned and weren't good enough -- took to lecturing me and trying to help, but I honestly didn't know where it was gonna come from. I was a husk, you know? Burnt out. Physically, I was getting better every day -- but I've seen a lot of bad stuff and it's colored my outlook -- or maybe it's leached all of the color out of it and left it grey... Have you ever worked at having a good time? Did it work? I didn't get impressive results...

Sis tried to help -- almost daily. At first, I only wanted to know why she had done this to me, but by Friday, I'd started to come around. Problem was, on Saturday somebody called for a general amnesty, sending guys back to their old mates and my bachelor boyfriend supply dried up! Those left were the assholes who should have stayed home, in general...

I STILL needed dick, so I tried to pick and choose the ones who seemed least offensive. Saturday was bad -- I made one bad and one so-so choice in partners and only the fact that I had to have my fix kept me going. Sunday, the slow trickle of guys started and I got to see a couple who were on their first pass and needed some comfort.

Sis told me, "You need to give in order to get." That seemed to be the breakthrough. I took to just consoling the new guys -- and if sex resulted, it was under more favorable circumstances than after 'Hey, Buddy -- wanna fuck?' I started getting more involved in the whole thing, emotionally -- something I really needed, now that I look back on it. Before, I was walled off, emotionally, focused on doing whatever it took to get my fix -- and trying not to think about how I was lying, cheating and stealing and using people. I couldn't get emotionally involved with anyone under those circumstances, as it would only hurt us both. Once my 'fix' had an emotional component -- and really didn't involve hurting anyone -- I could open up; in fact, I had to in order to be effective. I was sad for some of these guys -- and helping them and giving them a little comfort helped ME, so it wasn't something I had to be ashamed of. I could atone for my sins AND get my 'fix'; it was the best of both worlds.

Monday night was good, and Tuesday night was better; Sis came by Tuesday afternoon, bubbling over, and told me that Gonzalo had taken her as a concubine -- and I was actually happy for her! It didn't really help me, but the idea that I was going to take a while to sort things out had been sort of out there all along. Last night had been good; I saw a guy I'd seen before. Apparently, my reputation was improving, since I was getting repeat customers. At this point, I don't know what I would do if I had a hundred guys lined up outside my door, but it would no doubt be better than having them fuck each other...

I had my breakfast, (everyone else was having lunch), and went back to the bachelor's quarters. I'd started out going around basically asking anybody if they wanted to fuck, but now I kind of just wandered around, pressing the flesh, saying hi to guys and not getting all stupidly aggressive. There were a few other women around; some couples, even though they were offering themselves separately, were still hanging out together. I saw one family that was doing the big drop-off; the kids were saying "Bye, Daddy!" and the couple were trying to keep a stiff upper lip -- very sad. Theory has it that he'll be able to see his kids occasionally, at least, but who knows? Right now wasn't the time to rush over and offer anything; all that would do would cause a distraction and irritation and probably alienate the woman. If he was dumped out later, after things kind of settled out, that would be different. Sometimes, it didn't really seem to sink in for a day or two; I'd already learned that you let them alone until they wanted it.

Looking around, I saw a case in point; this guy -- nice looking, tanned, spiked hair, mid-thirties -- came in sometime Tuesday, I think -- maybe before I got up. Now, he was looking pretty dumped out -- head down, scowling, that sort of thing, sitting in a public area, but the cloud around him made things private. I decided to go over and see if he wanted to talk about it. "Hey, you look kinda dumped out..."

"What? Oh! Yeah. Bad news. Well, good news, maybe, just not for me..."

I stuck out my hand and said, "Bernice. There's a lot of that going around. Wanna talk about it? Somewhere quiet?"

I watched him struggle with himself and knew that this wasn't the time to advertise; besides, if he wanted to look at my twat, it was at eye level, anyway. He shook my hand -- probably just out of politeness -- and said, "Keith. Jeez, I dunno..."

"Sometimes it helps," I said quietly.

He considered for a bit and then said, "Where?"

"I know a place." I pulled him up by the hand -- I hadn't released it after the shake -- and led him to a small room a couple of doors down from my quarters. This wasn't about fucking -- and might not get there; I wasn't going to jump the gun. It's funny how the old social conventions come into play; we'd talked about privacy, but I didn't shut the door. I did sit down next to him on the couch instead of a chair opposite him -- not too close -- and still holding the hand. "So tell me."

"Annie -- she's my... mate? Ex-mate, I guess. She let me know that she's gotten a couple of calls since I left. One of the guys looked real young, she said -- like he was maybe still in school." Keith didn't look up at me, but he played with my hand.

"Did you decide to leave, or did she ask you to?" I asked quietly.

"I did it," he said softly. "We get there tomorrow, you know? I'd probably hung out too long as it was. I'm a little scary for most guys to think about having to deal with."

I nodded; he WAS muscular and nice looking and tanned and had a certain air about him. I could see how he might be unnerving to some guys -- they would find themselves in competition with him, which would undermine their authority. He was smart, too -- I could tell. What was he doing here?

"You know, I'm not much into altruism," he mused. "I was born rich and spent most of my life focused on me -- even my married life. I was always all about getting mine and to Hell with everybody else. Here..." He shrugged. "Here, you can only have so much -- and I didn't have much. In fact, I didn't have anything, and now I have even less..." He sighed. "I didn't really value Annie and the kids until it was time to see them go..."

"That happens," I commiserated.

"Yeah." He sat for a moment, head down. "I wonder if it isn't just sour grapes."

"You did it for them, right?" I pointed out. "What do you get out of it?"

"Nothing. Nothing I can see."

"You have your freedom," I offered.

"From Annie? I didn't need freedom from Annie. If I wanted to sleep around on her, she would accept it. She's, well, not weak, but very flexible. She copes. She knows how I am -- always has -- and she lives with it. Lived with it." Keith amended. "Besides, what am I free to do here? No, I'm not free. I freed them -- and it was the right thing to do. It's just... hard."

"Is it hard because it involves letting go of something that was yours?" I asked.

"No." Keith shook his head. "That's kind of surprising. I almost put a kid in the hospital once in an argument over whether he should touch my bike. I don't let go of anything readily. But this isn't about that; they say it was over Saturday before last when we came up here, and I get it. I just miss them."

"That might not be a problem, ultimately," I offered. "You never know. Are you going to be jealous of some guy, if..." I stopped, not wanting to go too far in this direction.

"I hope she picks a good one," Keith said, smiling crookedly. "She screwed up the first time and got me."

I gave a little snort and patted his leg. "You need to move on."

Keith pursed his lips. "Where? It's dark out there. I guess when I get there, I'll know where I went. Right now, I have no idea."

I got up, deciding that now was no time to be greedy. "If you need to talk, I'll be around." It was early in the day and I had no need to go forcing things.

"Bernice?" Keith stopped me at the door with a word. "What do you do here?"

I thought about it and then said, "I'm the unofficial housemother -- with privileges."

He cocked his head and I watched his eyes go predatory. "How does one get privileges?"

I looked at him directly. "One asks. It's situation dependent. It's all about who and when, but I'm probably more approachable than a lot of women."

"And why is that?" Keith asked.

I hadn't discussed this with anyone, so I had no prepared response. I figured the bald truth was good enough... "I'm an addict. Currently, I'm addicted to sex. So if you wait around long enough, I'll need a fix..."

Keith looked confused. "Addicted to sex? I don't understand..."

I hesitated. "It's a long story..."

"I have time..." Keith patted the seat I previously occupied.

I pursed my lips, thinking, 'Well, I asked him to spill HIS guts...' Shrugging, I went over and seated myself. Gathering my thoughts, I said, "I was in an accident -- and had a long, slow recovery. In the process, I got addicted to painkillers."

"Ouch."

"Yeah."

"Well, it happens..."

"I don't know if you spent a lot of time in Medical," I continued after a moment, "but they don't USE drugs -- they just fix the problem. But addiction doesn't work like that -- I needed to taper off -- so SOMEHOW, they put me on sex. So now I'm a sex junkie."

Keith frowned. "I don't see how..."

"They said it had to do with endorphins," I related. "Of course, they COULD be lying through their teeth -- for my own good, of course." I eyed him sidelong. "I was no stranger to sex -- but I was a total stranger to GOOD sex. When I was out looking for drugs, I did terrible things; hooking was one of the minor ones."

"So..."

"So I try not to sleep alone," I muttered. "I'm still trying to get it right. I think I've got a handle on it -- it's about making it enjoyable, and maybe helping someone..."

"Helping someone?"

"A lot of you guys aren't happy about things." I looked away. "So I kind of lend a shoulder -- only in this case, you lent one back. I haven't told anybody else my dirty little secrets..."

He did some thinking, then: "I won't tell if you won't."

"Deal," I retorted, grinning. It was time to leave. "See you around."

"Sure. Don't be a stranger."

Outside the door, I cursed myself. Keith was hot and I'd screwed myself not once but a BUNCH of times in that conversation! Well, there were other fish in the sea -- probably smelly old mackerel, but... I wandered off down the hall.

Bernice's tale was so weird that it had to be true; you couldn't make stuff like that up. It offered me some distraction from feeling sorry for myself, too, and explained why she looked somewhat stringy and wasted, although healthy. The glimpse she'd given me into her situation told me that there was a lot more there that she needed to confess to someone, at some point; I wondered if I was really the only person she'd ever gotten that far with.

Annie didn't call, which meant that no one had followed up on their calls to check out her and the kids. Objectively, that was too bad; I wanted them settled, since it would be a more or less final solution. Once they were settled, I could move on, more or less, to whatever uncertain future I faced -- and possibly present myself to Annie's new owner with a request for an occasional visit. Ideally, I could convince whoever it was to take me in, but that was fantasy, I figured, and didn't bother to consider it. Instead, I used my collar communicator and asked the AI, "What kinds of jobs will be available to male concubines at the colony?"

The answer was surprising; the Support Directorate did a LOT of things, functioning as a number of what one might think of as government agencies on Nuevo Angelino. I got a two hour presentation, at the end of which I recommended that the presentation I got be offered to ALL concubines. That got me a video call from a Hispanic fellow that I'd seen before with a name I can't pronounce -- but was I apparently answerable to. He said that I'd come up with an excellent idea and it would be implemented immediately, and thanked me for my participation and support. He didn't fart around, either; thirty minutes later, the walls in the public areas lit with a presentation on job opportunities at the colony for concubines, assigned and unassigned. I was amazed that no one had thought of it -- but the AIs don't seem to give much thought to humans with CAP scores under six point five, which left such considerations to humans -- and they were busy trying to get us properly indoctrinated so that we wouldn't screw up fatally...

After dinner, I came back and sat in a common area, watching things while pretending to read. There was a lot of anger and upset out there; Bernice came in and flitted from person to person, generally defusing it. She didn't blatantly offer herself sexually -- a touch on the shoulder was enough a lot of the time. She would rub someone's shoulder or back while they vented their spleen -- or, just as often, cried quietly. Sometimes, she would lead one off -- but she came back fairly quickly, as a rule, so I knew that she wasn't getting taken care of. She caught me looking a couple of times and acted embarrassed -- which was too bad, since I had developed a bit of fondness for her. She was very vulnerable; there had been a hard shell there protecting a very soft core -- and she had opened it to me.

At about eight, I had a thought and went somewhere quiet. "Have Annie McGowan and her children been selected by a sponsor?"

"No," the AI replied.

"Is there any way to influence such a selection positively?"

There was a pause. "No," the AI replied. "This would not seem to be in your best interest, Keith McGowan. Why would you wish this?"

"I am responsible for them," I replied. "I need to guarantee their welfare."

"You are no longer technically responsible," the AI insisted.

"I am because I choose to be. The children are my offspring, and even though my legal relationship with Annie has been terminated, there is an ongoing moral responsibility and an emotional commitment. I want them taken care of. That is why I left them -- to improve their chances of being supported and protected, since I am unable to do it. If I don't make every effort to see that it happens, I've wasted the effort and pain involved in separating myself from them."

"This is not self-interest, then," The AI clarified.

"No. If I were being selfish, I would be sleeping with Annie until I was no longer allowed to, without regard for the consequences," I replied.

"Concur. The issue of preferential status will be further examined," the AI replied. "What motivated your earlier effort to ensure that concubines were briefed in matters pertaining to their use?"

"It is easier for humans to function if they have a goal or a future to focus upon," I replied. "Uncertainty about the future causes anxiety, which can lead to all kinds of issues, including general unrest. I think you will find that the lower a human's CAP score, the more important such things are, because many people are more or less incapable of self-direction. They need structure, a focus, goals. If they know that they need to be places and do things, they can focus on them and not have to come to grips with the larger universe. Most rules for concubines are about what they cannot do and cannot control -- which leaves them feeling helpless and uncertain. You have to give them things that they CAN do and CAN control."

There was silence for a moment, then the AI said, "This is consistent with existing data -- yet there has been very little strategic or tactical implementation involving concubines."

"I think you undervalue the resource," I ventured.

"Perhaps," The AI replied. I waited a moment, but the conversation was apparently at an end.

I found myself watching Bernice making the rounds -- and I didn't see her blatantly offering herself. I saw her dealing with the initial pain and disorientation of some of the new arrivals, but I didn't see her trying to 'get her fix' as she would put it. She cuddled and mothered several guys, but things never moved in the direction of sex. Finally, around midnight, she drifted over to me and said, "Why are you still here?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You've been watching me all evening."

"Yeah. I was wondering when..."

"Most of these guys don't need sex -- they need someone to cuddle and wash the hurt away. I think most of them are too late anyway, and should have stayed with their mates." She cocked her head. "Why are you here? You really don't need me -- and you know all about what I am and what I've done..."

The truth more or less burst upon me then. "I don't think they're the only ones who need validation and a cuddle."

She looked away. "I really don't deserve it."

"That's a matter of opinion," I countered. "Do you NEED it? Don't lie..."

"Yes." She still wouldn't look at me.

"Okay, then." I stood and took her hand and pulled her against me -- and she shook a little, huddled in my arms.

"My place," she croaked. "Yours is a little too public."

We didn't have sex -- at least, not for several hours. Instead, I held and cuddled her and murmured forgiveness while she cried and claimed she was unworthy and confessed a boatload of sins. Her addiction had owned her, lock, stock, and barrel, and she'd either participated in or benefitted from some fairly ugly things. There was a lot of pain in her; she cried herself to sleep -- and that was okay. I know she felt that I should be horrified, but I found it gratifying that she should be able to open herself up to me, and I was happy to help and happy to cuddle her still frail body against me.

About three a.m., I got up and took a leak -- and while I was there, I pinged the AI. "Bernice is cured, right?"

"She was physically cured on her initial visit to Medical, although some of the residual effects are only slowly being flushed from her system," it replied. "However, she has an addictive personality and by observation it has been discovered that addicts can't just be cured mentally instantaneously. They may be free of the source of the addiction, but they continue to crave it, and must learn to stand alone. As her addiction had damaged her personality and given her a skewed perception of sex, it was decided that substituting sex for her painkillers would present her with an opportunity to approach normalcy over time. It was explained to her that the endorphins and pleasure that she SHOULD be getting out of the sex act, properly executed, would produce a 'rush' and sense of well-being similar to that imposed by drugs, much like methadone treatment allows a heroin addict to slowly break away from that drug, or various products assist in breaking a smoker of his or her habit. A hidden agenda in this treatment plan was the intent to have her eventually develop an emotional bond with a particular male and be sponsored."

"Was it expected that she would offer herself in the way she is doing it currently?" I asked.

"It was anticipated that there would be an extended period of purely sexual service with more and more emotional involvement. Bernice is ahead of schedule in this. The fact that she has opened herself up to you indicates she is perhaps several weeks ahead of schedule."

"I'm not a sponsor."

"Duly noted. A resolution will present itself at some point," the AI retorted fatuously.

I headed back to Bernice -- who was awake in bed. "I thought you had gone..." Implicit in the comment was the undercurrent of, 'I thought I'd driven you away...' I just crawled into bed and pulled her to me. Sometime after that -- not immediately, mind you, but probably an hour or so later -- I came up from a kiss to realize I had a spiky nipple between my fingers and she had a hand on my erection and we were both panting a bit. I couldn't put my finger on when the transition from supportive cuddling to heavy petting occurred or who initiated, but we were moving rapidly toward sex.

"I didn't plan to take advantage of you," I croaked.

"You're not," she gasped. "I'm so hot, and you've been so good to me... Please..."

Once we were both knowingly committed, things moved rapidly; in no time, she was soaking two of my fingers with her fluids and arching and gasping her way through an orgasm. After that, I succumbed to her urgent tugs on my cock and entered her and we went straight to frenzied. I didn't last long at all, but she beat me to orgasm and was just ahead of me, coming down, when I filled her.

Nestled against me, she whispered, "I never got wet, hooking -- I always had to be lubed."

"I think the situation is a bit different," I opined.

"Me, too."

We fell asleep still connected.