Chapter 2

“So ... do I get to be one of the concubines, bro?” Sandy asked me with obvious lust in her eyes, “you’re twenty years old now. Decision time, boss!”

“Do you wish to be one of the concubines, sis? You know what that means, right? It’s a lesser status than wife, with fewer perks, and in certain ways, represents a loss of your own freedom and autonomy. You can be legally spanked. Wives can’t. You can be required to service my guests. Wives can’t. If a wife doesn’t want to put out, a husband has fewer options, but one of them is to lean heavily on his catamites and concubines.

“It’s intended as a safety valve for men and wives alike, to help preserve marriages while also reducing affairs. And a concubine doesn’t get to file for divorce, let alone seek alimony or have community property rights. The pact and institution of concubinage binds you for not less than a year and a day, not more than six.

“That’s because it’s supposed to be voluntary, and the state wants to give concubines a useful escape clause, a means of withdrawing their consent to be used in that way. While a concubine can renew her covenant, she has every right to refuse as well,” I observed, generally liking the tradition, but preparing myself for Sandy to object to key aspects of the contract.

“Some would call that sexist, but I remind them that wives now have the right to keep catamites and concubines, too, which they didn’t have at first. It required a bit of an expansion of the old or ancient definition of catamite, of course. They are also required by law to have vasectomies, no matter who acquires them, male or female. That might seem unfair, and to some extent it is, but the laws are written so as to avoid paternity issues,” Sandy winked at me.

“I think that most husbands prefer that their wives fool around with catamites and concubines for sure, rather than committing adultery in the traditional sense. It’s more socially acceptable for sure. They can’t surgically castrate a catamite, because that’s permanent mutilation, nor can they do so chemically, as that would require constant maintenance medication and hormonal treatments. Anyway, you didn’t answer my question,” I reminded her now.

“Yes, of course, I want to be one of your concubines, bro! That’s why I asked about it! It’s a legal excuse to commit incest with my own brother with the blessing of society and the state. I love incest, in case you missed that fact, both in theory and in reality. I particularly love the idea of having your baby, bro! Or babies, I should say! I want to sign the maximum contract as well. Six years of indentured servitude to my own loving brother. It sounds heavenly, at least to a subbie type like me!” Sandy confessed now as she planted a very wet, sloppy French kiss on me in full view of my patrons.

“Mom’s gonna be the wife, you know,” I warned Sandy.

“That works for me! I hope that she borrows me a lot from you ... while you’re at work ... making me eat her pussy and ass. Pegging me. That kind of thing. It is a spouse’s right to borrow either a catamite or a concubine, isn’t it? Lots of wives lend their concubines to their husbands and vice versa, whenever they don’t feel like putting out that night. Or when busy with their own catamites or concubines. Or for other reasons, of course. To say nothing of threesomes, naturally. My own mother is gonna be my sister-in-law, too! That’s gonna be lots of fun!