Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: The Academy
Part: 38 of 88
Universe: The Swarm Cycle
Summary: The Governor of the colony of Nuevo Angelino recognizes that the ad-
hoc educational system in use in his colony isn't producing sponsors -- so he
sends a team to Earth to collect some professional educators with a
Confederacy perspective.  This results in a new and unusual kind of pickup...

Keywords: MF MFF FF M+F mf mF exhib humil inc ir group oral anal toys Mdom
Fdom

The Academy

Chapter 38

Vera:

	Poor Ollie!  He knew I was different when I walked through the door
that morning!  Uneasiness and guilt were written all over his face -- and
guilt was similarly there in Britney's -- but I wasn't upset that they
enjoyed one another while I was gone -- look how much I'd enjoyed myself!  I
had to wonder how jealous Ollie would be...

	The revelation had come in the middle of the night, while the Major
was draped atop me, snoring softly.  He was a simple man, really -- hard, a
forged weapon.  You pointed him at things and he dealt with them, as directly
as possible.  He'd said something about how his current concubines were a
distraction -- and I knew that he probably replaced his, regularly, from
somewhere, when he became too irritated with them.  He was totally matter-of-
fact with me, from the moment he took charge of me that night -- and yet, he
was my champion!  I was there to do a job -- and he had every confidence in
me.  I wasn't 'that fat sow of a slut, Vera,' to the Major -- I was a woman
he had already fucked once and pronounced satisfactory and that he would fuck
again.  Orally, his cock had been a challenge -- and I'd risen to it -- and
he'd been forthrightly pleased with the result.

	But a big part of it was his approach when he championed me to
Tillotson.  Whether I was fat or not wasn't at issue with him; it was his
contention that Tillotson had an unhealthy fetish for the very thin.  The
Major contended that Tillotson didn't mess with real women -- he had a thing
for artificially constructed creatures with very little meat draped over
their skeleton and outsized balloons on their chests.  The subtext of all
this -- which only soaked in slowly -- was that porky Vera was a REAL
woman...  Tillotson would bitch about my looks, and the Major retorted that I
was more eager to please than one of his skinny bitches and offered better
performance...  It was all there, in the automobile comment:  "The
difference, here, Tillotson, is sort of like the difference between a sports
car and a luxury sedan.  The first moves impressively, but the suspension is
tight and jarring and it isn't too comfortable.  The latter offers a
comfortable ride and... options..."

	Then I PROVED it by making Tillotson ADMIT that I was good -- and the
Major started talking about Judith and Tillotson started LISTENING...  And in
the meantime, I did it all, rimming assholes, deep-throating cocks, taking it
up the ass... and realizing I'd missed it...  and when we took a break, the
Major was pleasant and relaxed and offhandedly complimentary...  Yeah, I was
a slut -- but it was what I was there for, and I was doing a fine job; what
else could I ask for?  And when the Major teased Tillotson into pumping his
cock into me, I made DAMNED sure we both enjoyed it -- and the Major helped,
and got a kick out of doing it...

	And when the Major wanted his, later, he didn't begrudge me mine and
we had a wonderful time and I knew that I'd need to do it all again --
regularly.  The Major was ALMOST right.  I wasn't a luxury car -- I was a
truck!  Actually, I was an SUV -- I was the Cadillac Escalade, the Lincoln
Navigator of sluts!  My big fat jugs and my porky ass and my thick hips were
there so I could take hard fucking from big, hard men and come back for more.
I was tough to damage and capable of taking a beating, but luxurious -- all
of my holes knew cock and how to make it comfortable.  I could climb a curb
without damaging my bodywork, or do rutted dirt roads -- just wash me off,
afterwards.  The only problem here -- the one Ollie was going to have to deal
with -- was the word 'men' -- plural -- not 'man'...  Slut Vera was there for
men to play with -- and just one probably wouldn't be able to get her into
four-wheel drive...

	This is what I knew when I walked back in that door.  Ollie had
wanted me loosened up and put back on track -- and he had gotten his wish --
but things had gone farther than was going to be comfortable for either of
us.  Jack had said something Friday night to Judith -- "There will probably
be a period of 'Oh, God!  I'm a slut!' and things will get rough until you
move on to 'Thank God I'm a slut!' which is where you need to be."  For me,
the 'Oh, God -- I'm a slut!' period had started in high school and gone on
for almost twenty-five years while I repressed everything and was therefore
unable to move on and learn to live with myself -- but overnight, I'd finally
moved on to 'Thank God I'm a slut!'

	The problem was Ollie.  I owed Ollie more than I could ever repay
from all that time when he was giving one hundred percent and I was giving
back maybe thirty.  So now I was probably going to have to make do with
thirty percent of what I wanted -- because that would be what Ollie could
give me, working at capacity.  It was pretty ironic, when you think about
it...

	When I got back to our quarters, I went to Ollie and hugged him --
and he asked, very carefully, "How was your night?"

	I said, "Fine, Master.  I think I accomplished everything you wanted
me to."  I know that wasn't what he expected at all, but it was the truth...

	Soon after, we were distracted by Jack's little video object lesson
-- which was rough, to say the least!  Then the AI had us head for the
passenger mess that Oliver's colleagues attended for breakfast.  We met
Jack's concubines on the way, which was nice, as it kept us from being the
only ones nude -- but I was already learning not to worry about it.  We were
nearly settled in with food when Ollie's boss Dave and his Brinkman people
started wandering in.  We ended up demonstrating how to get breakfast from
the replicators -- something recently learned from Tara.

	Dave and Ollie talked and Dave settled in with us.  In a few minutes,
Jack came through the door, followed by the Major and Decurion Tillotson --
and things got embarrassing.  The Major was effusive with his praise -- and
very descriptive; I was thoroughly unmasked!  Any thought I might have had
about hiding my capacity for large amounts of sex from Ollie was totally
dashed!  The Major went so far as to say, "It's so unusual to find a woman
who actually enjoys sex in quantity, rather than just enduring it.  I'm going
to have to raise my standards!"  I could do nothing but stand my ground and
return Ollie's gaze...

	After breakfast, Jack took his girls and advised Ollie to join the
Brinkman Foundation group.  I think Ollie was momentarily miffed -- but Jack
had things to do and couldn't babysit us all the time.  Besides, Ollie got a
good bit of adulation for his part in the group's extraction, which didn't
hurt his ego any.

	We were split up, though, for the briefings; most of it I'd heard
from Jack already, so there were few surprises -- but the other concubines in
the group tended to be regularly shocked!  I found that I was actually a help
to some of them, just by being there; someone would make an exclamation like
"Surely you're kidding!" and everyone would look at me -- and I would smile
and shake my head...  Britney helped with this, even though she hadn't seen
it all; she was still properly undressed and able to sit and look serene and
shake her head.

	At one point, I got up and said, "Ladies, some of you at least have
been doing this job -- poorly, maybe, like I was, but you've been doing it.
You were married to your man and you love him and you played bedroom games
with him and you had his children -- and you're raising them.  That hasn't
changed.  You're not equal partners any more, though -- that HAS changed.
But that isn't new -- we were just crawling out from under that rock, and in
some places on Earth they STILL hadn't -- the old ways held that you never
HAVE been equal!  You can do this -- it's been done before.  There will be
other women -- and the best thing you can do about that is treat them as
sisters and act as though your hubby has taken an additional wife.  Everybody
knows that raising kids takes your attention away from your man; he may need
it but they need it more, and there are only so many hours in the day and you
only have so much energy.  Well, now you have HELP!  Lean on each other!
Share the load!  Save that much more energy so you can give your man that
attention he's going to demand from you -- and when you can't, smile when she
steps forward and provides THAT for you!  I know you've heard the ugly truth,
here -- you've been demoted.  But your man is no more used to the idea of
being the evil slave master than you are to being a slave, and what he wants
in his household is peace and harmony!  What they are trying to emphasize
here is that you have NO RIGHT to drive wedges between your man and the other
women he selects based on your previous position -- but in many ways, the
easiest way to handle this is to let them step up, rather than stepping
down."

	I knew I was on the right track when the AI delivering the lecture
said, "This may provide an easier psychological adjustment."

	There was a question and answer period with a concubine who had been
in the job for a while -- and I don't know whether it helped or hurt things.
I think she was settled in her role -- but many of those present seemed to
think she was broken.  The harsh realities were old hat to her; she confirmed
many of the downside issues -- but her attitude said they were irrelevant,
something I got, but I don't think a lot of the others did.  You could be
killed for a major infraction -- so you just avoided major infractions.  It
was a lot like going to jail in our old life -- how many people worry about
that all the time?  You avoid the problem in the first place by not doing
things that will get you arrested, that's all...  I could tell, though, that
several didn't get it.  At one point she got irritated with someone over
rape...  "Honey, there is no such thing -- well, only in a few special
circumstances.  If your sponsor is off somewhere and a male concubine or
another sponsor who hasn't got his permission won't take no for an answer,
that's rape, because they don't have the right.  If your sponsor wants
something and you don't feel like giving it up it's NOT rape, no matter WHAT
he does, because in that case YOU don't have the right to say no!  If he
busts you in the mouth a couple of times to get you to hold still while he
sticks his dick up your ass, it's YOUR fault, because YOU didn't have your
head on straight!  You don't GET headaches -- or if you do, you go to Medical
and get something for them.  Fucking your sponsor is your JOB!  There would
have been a lot fewer divorces on Earth if married women had managed to
remember that rather than pretending the old man had to get permission every
time he wanted a little!"

	"B--but," the woman involved stammered, "What about abuse?"

	"Honey, there is 'abuse' and 'abuse.'  If your sponsor shows a
pattern of beating the shit out of you for the fun of it, that's abuse -- and
the AI's see all and you can file a complaint if you like -- and it will get
seriously looked at.  If the Civil Service pool is a better place for you,
maybe they'll take you away from him.  If he slaps the shit out of you
because he tells you he wants something and you don't provide it, though,
that's an attitude adjustment -- not abuse."  She cocked her head and looked
at the woman.  "You'll straighten out real quick, I think -- your head's just
full of mush.  It won't take more than a couple upside the head for you to
stop parroting stupid shit and get down to business."

	I found myself amused.

	Somebody else asked, "Can we come back to the part about permission?"

	The concubine cocked her head and grinned.  "You're property, Honey
-- just like a lawnmower.  If your sponsor wants to lend you to the neighbor
-- or a Marine Recon unit returning from a deployment -- you grin and bear
it, because they have permission to do whatever he agrees to.  If that's just
cleaning the neighbor's pod because his concubine is in the hospital, that's
easy street -- but if fucking is on the authorized activities list, you'd
better make happy noises!  On the other hand, if the neighbor tries to borrow
you without permission, you have the right to fight and argue and when Daddy
gets home, he's gonna call the cops, because it's stealing.  Male concubines
in the household need permission to fuck you -- your sponsor may want him
concentrating on something else -- but in a lot of cases, they have blanket
permission, because who's gonna keep the cobwebs out if your sponsor is out
on a six month cruise?  Male concubines OUTSIDE the household had BETTER have
permission -- because if they don't and you complain, it's likely they'll end
up dead!"

	Someone asked, "What if the guy is physically repulsive?"

	The concubine scratched her head.  "Huh!  THAT's a new one!  Let's
take that a piece at a time.  Sponsors get upgrades, just like you will.  Old
guys get some years peeled off and ugly guys get to make adjustments.  They
get muscles -- and bigger dicks, too, some of them.  I can't see why you
would present yourself to a sponsor who makes you sick to look at him, even
if you could find one.  If your sponsor wants to lend you out to the guy next
door and he squicks you, then you need to ask yourself -- or him -- why he's
doing it -- have you been fucking up?  Does he just owe the guy?  Or is he
trying to break you of some bad habit?  Maybe your problem is a race thing?
In any case, the answer seems to be 'you grin and bear it'.  You give him
what he wants and try not to puke.  If you DO puke, apologize..."

                       ----------------------------------

	Ollie came and got us after a couple of hours and took us to Medical
-- which was HUGE, but they were handling thousands...  There was really
nothing to do but hop in the tube...

	When I came out, though, everyone else was out already, standing
there.  Ollie had this odd look on his face -- he either wasn't happy or he
was trying to be happy and having a hard time of it.  "What's wrong, Master?"

	Ollie eyed the medic.  "I assume that there is some kind of
manumission..."

	The medic looked back and nodded.  "Yes, Doctor.  Actually, she's
been fitted with the standard implants.  Once we discovered this..."

	"Master?"

	"You can revert to Oliver, Dear -- or whatever you like, it seems,"
Ollie said, somewhat sadly.  "I'm not sure what this means yet, but the
initial piece is clear -- you are no longer my concubine."

	"WHAT?"  The world rocked.

	"I had you tested again while you were in the tube, at the request of
the medic," Ollie said.  "Your scans just didn't match the profile on your
CAP card very well.  It seems that the last few days have been, um,
beneficially traumatic...  Your CAP score has increased to six point six."

	A voice inside my head declaimed, <Welcome to sponsorship, Vera
Hopkins.>  I recognized it as that of an AI!

	"Can we break this down into digestible pieces?" I whined.

	<Your development has been... arrested... for quite some time, Vera
Hopkins.  You are aware of this, just as you are aware that you have been
moving forward over the past few days...>  Oliver opened his mouth at the
same time and I raised my hand to stop him -- but he stopped anyway; I guess
the AI made him privy to the conversation.  <Once you began to accept the
reality of what you are and rose above the poor self-image issues, there was
an epiphany -- and your CAP score reflects this change.>

	"What does this mean?"

	<Oliver Hopkins is no longer your sponsor -- and you are no longer
bound to him in that manner.  The contract between you is void.>

	"But I love Ollie!"

	<There is no reason that you cannot continue to cohabitate and share
a family,> the AI declaimed.  <You may even choose to think of yourselves as
'married,' although from a legal perspective that contract is also voided.>

	The medic surfaced a coverall.  "Here.  You should put this on -- but
you may want to take a look at things in the mirror first."

	I stepped over to the full-length mirror on the wall.  "Not much has
changed..."

	Ollie looked diffident.  "Even though at the time I was authorized to
make radical changes, I didn't feel it was right to do so.  I asked for a few
minor things, but I wanted the essential you to be there."

	The medic called up a hologram.  "This is what is in process.  The
nannites will take a few days for parts of it."

	I still had a belly -- it just bulged a bit rather than being a saggy
roll.  I still had big jugs -- and while they had been brought up a bit, they
hadn't shrunk and they looked more like what I had when I was twenty.  My ass
was headed back to its old shape, too.  My face... I was younger...  "You
didn't do a lot at all.  I'm still a porker."

	Ollie shrugged.  "I love you like that."

	I burst into tears.  Ollie came forward clumsily and wrapped his arms
around me, mumbling, "I'm sorry..."

	Realizing he had no idea what was going on, I forced out, "Oh, Ollie!
You say the sweetest things!"  Then I just blubbered on him for a while.
After that, I re-examined the hologram.  "It's probably better than I ever
looked."

	Jack said something the other day," Ollie muttered.  "I was going for
the 'essential Vera'."

	"You got pretty close, I think," I muttered into his neck.

	The AI did something like electronically clearing his throat.  <Vera
Hopkins, you have not actually volunteered for Confederacy service.  We need
to clarify this and discuss your job assignment.>

	"What did you have in mind?" I asked.

	<Merely sub-vocalize,> the AI instructed, <and it will be detected.
You are a specialist.  We have problems with many concubines over attitude --
they are unable to assume the proper frame of mind.  We believe that you
would be of valuable assistance in the Civil Service as a teacher and brothel
administrator.>

	"A Madam?" I burst out.

	<Affirmative.  We believe that your capacity and attitude are an
object lesson in and of themselves.  Many concubines enter the Civil Service
brothel with attitudes inculcated by their female parent and their
environment that are contradictory to their role; they were told that sex is
to be avoided, not enjoyed.  Your physical structure is also something that
will help others accept themselves, now that you have accepted it, yourself.
The changes recently put in place leave you well within the definition of
voluptuous.  They are an example to males that the creation of a narrow
caricature of a female is not always the optimal solution for a concubine
destined for motherhood.>

	"About my capacities..."

	<As a sponsor, you will be allotted four concubines.  Up to all four
could be male.  The situation regarding your relationship with Doctor Hopkins
is negotiable between you.  Doctor Hopkins has been retested and his score
increased to seven point four; this would allocate him up to eight concubines
under the offer the government of Nuevo Angelino has made for this group,
based upon the various factors, such as the acceptance of a couple with
children.>

	'So you're saying that he'll get plenty of sex without me and I
should suit myself,' I thought back.

	<Essentially.  It is clear that you feel that there is a debt to be
discharged -- and there is justification for this; however, you will have
some difficulty limiting yourself -- and it will not be in your job
description to do so in any case.  Oliver Hopkins will have sufficient...
distractions that his ego will not be damaged, in the long run, particularly
if you continue your romantic relationship.  He is highly intelligent and
will be able to see the issues.  You may wish to look at having two solidly
performing -- or perhaps augmented -- males, and a couple, the male of which
you could deal with as you wish and the female available as assistance in
child-rearing; as a sponsor, you still have that requirement, although there
are limits placed upon it by your other duties.>

	'If I want to have more children with Ollie...?'

	<This is not an issue.>

	'Okay, I'm in.'

	<Acceptance recorded.  You will report to Decurion Tillotson, for
now.  He has been notified and understands your value to him.>

	'I'll need to go nude sometimes to do my job, won't I?'

	<Yes.>

	I eyed the hologram.  Ollie had done a fine job.  I didn't WANT to be
a skinny bitch.  I was Rubenesque, a Big Beautiful Woman -- which is what I
WANTED to be.  'This works.'  The hologram disappeared.  "You did a good Job,
Ollie."

	"You've been... away..." Ollie murmured.

	"Talking to the AI," I agreed.

	"And?"

	"I've accepted a position.  We'll need to talk, Dear.  I really want
to combine households, but the results might be embarrassing for you," I said
gently.

	Ollie pursed his lips.  "You're going to need to bring in help, I
assume."

	"Yes.  From what I hear, though, you couldn't possibly handle me AND
eight other women," I smiled.

	"True."  Ollie smiled ruefully.  "I really would have had to make
some arrangement in any case, wouldn't I?"

	"Yes."

	"You still want to...?"

	"We have more than a master-concubine relationship, Ollie," I told
him.  "Much more.  I owe you more than I can possibly repay; you may call on
me as a love slave at any time.  I'll be the wife to you that I SHOULD have
been all these years -- and we can have more children.  But there will be
other things going on; we'll both have our work, and we'll both have other
outlets."

	Ollie nodded.  "Yes, that's sensible. What will you be doing?"

	"I have accepted a Civil Service position," I replied.  "Maureen will
be scandalized -- I will be a whorehouse madam."  Judith gasped.  "I'm told
that many concubines end up in the Civil Service brothel in an effort to get
them to at least tolerate sex; I'll be trying to teach them to let go and
enjoy themselves."  I undid my concubine collar and began donning the
coverall.  "This isn't particularly attractive."

	"The grey uniform is nice, if a bit severe," Ollie pointed out, "but
for now, we have some training and orientations ourselves, and apparently it
is felt that this is simpler."  I nodded.

	"So Momma is..." Judith muttered.

	"Again my companion and significant other," Ollie replied.
"Britney..."

	"I understand..." Britney dropped her eyes.

	"I don't think you do," I interjected.  "I need for you to take care
of Ollie as best you can, because I won't be available all the time.  I need
for you to lead whatever other girls he takes in and be a big sister to them.
I'll be around -- as 'Big Mama' or something -- but I have to leave the bulk
of Ollie's daily maintenance to you!"

	"Oh!" Britney exclaimed, "I thought I was gone!"

	"Nothing could be further from the truth," Ollie assured her.

	"Besides, I might want the occasional tongue ride!" I teased.
Britney blushed.

	"It seems like we ought to be celebrating, but we don't have the
time," Ollie noted.  "You girls need to get back to your concubinage classes
and Vera needs to get caught up on sponsorship and we both need to move
forward..."

	<Indeed.>  I think everyone got that, including Britney and Judith,
through their collars.

	"You two were already nude on arrival, so..." the medic said to
Judith and Britney and waved us at the door.  We dropped them in the
concubine class and I sat in on the sponsor class, to the surprise of a large
number of people.  Ollie helped me explain things as best I could to the
curious...

Judith:

	After Momma's amazing metamorphosis at Medical, Britney and I got to
go back to the concubine briefings.  There were women from the big group in
the room this time; the room held maybe three hundred of us, each on our own
little mat.  The AI tended to make everything seem dreary and seemed to take
delight in telling us that this or that type of misbehavior could end in a
death sentence, but mixed in with the gore there were a few nuggets of wisdom
and such.  It also revealed some, well, not rules, per se, but traditions we
might possibly run into, such as walking one step behind and one step to the
right of our sponsor, or lining up in order of seniority, if our sponsor
dictated such things, or a couple of 'service postures' like kneeling back on
your heels with your knees spread and with your hands clasped behind your
back.  A lot of it was embarrassing and humiliating for most of us, but the
AI insisted that we attempt the postures so we wouldn't look totally stupid
if someone wanted one of them.  They all had names -- the one I just
mentioned was called Presentation Two.  Presentation One was similar -- but
you cupped you breasts, offering them -- very embarrassing.  Presentation
Three was worse -- you go forward onto your forearms and raise your butt --
facing away from your sponsor, naturally, and looking back at him over your
shoulder.  In Presentation Four, you at least got to put your knees
together...  I preferred kneeling at Attention, sitting back on my ankles
with my hands on my thighs, naturally.  There were other behaviors -- for
instance, a concubine was never to speak unless spoken to before company --
urgent needs could be fulfilled by raising your hand like a first grader.  In
private, if you were talking and your sponsor tired of it, he would stick two
fingers in your mouth -- and it was your job to make him wish it was his
erection by sucking and licking them.  Concubines never ate until their
sponsor and the children are fed -- and not then, of course, if the sponsor
directs otherwise.  Where you eat is also at the option of the sponsor --
including from his hands or from a bowl on the floor.  According to the AI,
sponsors seldom had time for the dog dish kind of thing for a concubine who
wasn't being punished, but it wasn't unusual for concubines to eat in the
kitchen -- and eating from your sponsor's fingers was a clear reminder of who
controls your world...  It was highly recommended that in such circumstances
you made sure your sponsor's fingers were squeaky clean after each bite...

	A lot of the women were horrified and some, embarrassingly, couldn't
get into some of the positions.  There was one older woman named Harriet
something who came in very late -- someone whispered that they'd done a LOT
of work on her at Medical, but she still suffered a lot and couldn't rise
from the positions without help.  I'm, well, chunky, but I'm still young -- I
did everything.  So did Britney.

	After all this, we had a question and answer period, with a mildly
irritated concubine who had been around a while.  I understood her position
after a half a dozen questions -- it was like nobody believed a thing the AI
was telling them, so they wanted to hear it all again!  For instance, there
was this really nice looking older dark Italian-looking woman who asked the
concubine, "Look, I'm hearing these things about incest..."

	The concubine cocked her head and put on this sardonic smile.  "Is
that your daughter next to you, Honey?"

	"Yes..."

	"Okay, then," the concubine continued, "Either your one-time husband
wants to dip his wick in your daughter, or you have a teenage son.  Which is
it?"

	"I... have a son..." the woman replied, looking away and turning
pink.

	"And he's got good taste and knows that he isn't likely to do better
than Mama and Sis, then, huh?" the concubine cackled.  "Look, I KNOW you've
probably heard the long answer from the AI -- and like every OTHER idiot in
this room, you're pretending you didn't, because it isn't what you want to
hear -- so I'll give you the short answer:  There ain't no such thing!"  She
settled back on the little stool she was sitting on up in front of the room
and continued, "Where you come from, they had some rules about that and they
seemed to make sense -- but you aren't there anymore and they no longer apply
and nobody is gonna say anything about it other than calling him a lucky dog.
So tonight, if you've got any sense, you'll go on back to the cabin where you
live and you'll kneel up side by side in Presentation Three and look over
your shoulder at him with those big brown eyes of yours and say, 'Come on,
Big Boy!' -- and find out what HE got at Medical today -- and everyone will
live happily ever after..."

	There was a general titter -- but it didn't keep some idiot from
asking why she wasn't Number One since she had been her sponsor's wife
once...

	After a while the concubine lost patience, and said, "Y'all are
scary, you're so slow -- how many times do you need to hear something?  I'm
done here -- but I have some parting advice.  Many of you are gonna have to
make a little video personal ad tonight and put it up on the ship's network
for people to look at.  DON'T tell everybody what you WON'T do.  As you talk,
go through the positions, those you can manage -- at the very least, assume
one while you give your spiel.  The guys are getting this separately, but you
should know that they're supposed to do their best to keep their dicks tucked
out of sight in positions -- remind them, because if they're as slow as y'all
are, they'll fuck it up.  Good luck -- and remember, all you have to do to
get an answer to a question is ask the AI -- but if you won't listen to it,
you're screwed anyway!  Good luck, girls!"  She got up and left, and the AI
released us.  Momma and Daddy were home when we got there; we turned right
around and went out to dinner at the Mess.