Chapter 22

Jack:

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

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

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

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

So we were headed for Beth's.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vera gulped. "Yes, Master."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, Master."

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

"If I can."

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

I didn't argue. "Frieda!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes."

"What else?"

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

I chuckled. "Frieda will LOVE THAT!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fifty? A hundred?" Oliver prompted.

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

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

"Possibly." It was a whisper.

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

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

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

"Yes."

"And have you ever let her out?"

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

"Until tonight."

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

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

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

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

"Yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Master, I..."

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

"Yes, Master!"

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

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

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

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

"What's wrong?" Oliver asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Beth has one in her nightstand."

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

Oliver continued the interrogation, "What, never?"

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

"Not even before you started with boys?"

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

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

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

"May I?" I offered.

"Please."

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

Vera blinked. "Oh."

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