Chapter 28

Jack:

It was almost as painful to watch as it probably was for Vera. We set up in the improved area of the basement, which was somewhat soundproofed. Oliver and I and Tara (I found THAT interesting; she not only volunteered, but appeared knowledgeable) rigged up a set of ropes from the top and bottom of a pair of lolly columns and spread-eagled Vera in a set of makeshift wrist and ankle cuffs made of Velcro straps over cloth toweling wrapped in vet wrap. Vera assisted with this almost cheerfully. Tara made her something out of a washrag to bite down on and muffle the screams. Frieda seemed to be restraining herself from assisting while keeping an eye on Beth -- and Oliver and Vera's other two daughters in the process. The whole thing probably took a half-hour to orchestrate.

Fortunately, the kids were asleep. Abe had left me and gone upstairs to struggle through the implications of our conversation and was exhausted thereby -- and the girls were totally off-cycle and had been burning a lot of energy dashing around during the afternoon. All three had crashed a bit before Beth, Frieda and I got home and they were still asleep. While they had missed a few things, Vera made it clear to Tara and Keisha upstairs that she was asking for this, so they were up on that piece, at least.

Tara handled maintenance of the gag -- to include covering Vera's mouth when she spit it out to scream. That happened several times...

Oliver was clinical -- and he didn't limit himself to Vera's ass. He took his time and picked his targets, but didn't telegraph or tease Vera. Once he committed to a strike, he followed through. He circled her, doing her breasts, her back, her belly, her thighs, as well as her ass. On two occasions, he actually struck up, between her legs, at her vulva -- something that brought protests from several of the other females present. I handled Beth with a quirt -- a small braided whip I'd picked up at the feed store along with the riding crop -- when she got vocal; it didn't take but a stroke or two. After that, Beth would just come to me and hide her face when it got too hard to watch. Tara spent her time wiping Vera's tear-stained face and cooing to her -- and glaring at her girls for being too chicken to assist. Keisha just stood there, more or less bug-eyed, she would shift her gaze to me and I would look back, poker-faced.

I know Vera got a shock from the very first stroke; I imagine that Oliver had held himself back on previous occasions. For this, though, he did as the AI suggested, and let Vera have it, full force. The first three or four strokes, Vera just gasped and appeared stupefied by the agony -- Oliver was timing them for three or four seconds in between -- but after that, the muffled screams and wails began.

It went on for what seemed like centuries. Oliver went for a while at a fairly brisk pace for the way he was timing things, but after a while, he wound down, visibly. Well, that was what we were after; if he was sickened by what he'd done, he was likely to dismiss further recriminations. Vera didn't get off easy in any particular -- she was striped like a zebra by the time he was done. I lost count at fifty strokes. Finally, he stopped, eyed Vera for a moment from behind, then went and placed the riding crop on a nearby table and announced, "I believe we're done." The girls rushed forward, basically getting in our way as we worked to get her untied and the bindings removed. Then Oliver stepped up and took her face in his hands and she crumpled against him wailing brokenly, "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so..." Oliver tucked her head into his shoulder and tried to comfort her without touching anything else.

After a bit it became apparent that the crowd of women weren't accomplishing anything, so I told mine, "Go upstairs and check on the children and get dinner moving!" They scattered like rabbits, their minds clearly full of the object lesson. Oliver and I helped Vera up the stairs; we couldn't carry her and any attempt would have no doubt been painful. They settled on the couch, Vera curled up with her head in Oliver's lap -- at which point, he angrily waved his remaining daughters away. I followed them to the kitchen.

Maureen complained, "I don't understand! Why is she cuddling up to Dad after that?"

I eyed her. "You still don't get it, do you? Their relationship was poisoned -- on her end by guilt, and his by anger and betrayal. The poison has been released, squeezed out of both of them -- and now the healing begins. It isn't over -- they have to build new bridges and deal with new roles and build up trust again -- but they are at least past making payments on what they owed one another."

"I think she got a lot more than she wanted," Judith opined.

"I think she got more than she expected," I argued, "but what she WANTED was to suffer terribly for her crimes -- and she did. And what to you might seem excess may not to her -- even though she suffered it and you merely witnessed it. She's purged -- and so is he; she will get some satisfaction from that. You need to support them -- BOTH of them."

"How?" Judith asked.

"Simple," I answered, smiling. "By never bringing it up again. The incident is closed; for you to offer Vera your sympathy or Oliver your anger is to pick at the scabs of their pain and keep the scars from healing. Make supper. When we sit down to dinner, treat her residual pain as an illness or affliction that you can do nothing about except attempt to make her more comfortable and avoid sympathetic commentary or blame."

"You're kidding, right?" Judith flared.

Maureen grabbed her by the forearm. "No, he's making sense. Leave it alone. Momma did wrong -- and a lot of it! Daddy punished her. End of story. You might look at the effects on you -- and Dan..."

Judith's eyes popped. "What are you implying?"

"What have you been giving Dan? What Momma gave Daddy? Clearly, that was a lot less than she was capable of. She had the excuse that she was hiding something from him -- do you have an excuse?"

"Dan's a womanizer, among his other faults. I was a fool not to see it," Judith muttered.

"Is that because he's not getting something at home?" Maureen prodded. "I like sex -- a lot. And I think I understand what happened to Momma."

"I like sex," Beth announced from where she was stirring boiling potatoes on the stove. "I'll do ... just about anything, I think. But I prefer to do it with Jack."

"I..." Judith paused. "Blowjobs? Anal?" Her sisters nodded as one. "Ewwww!"

"Don't knock it until you've tried it, Sis," Maureen replied.

To have something to do with her hands, Judith started trimming some asparagus. "Well..." Then she turned to Beth. "What was that about you and Daddy? And incest?"

"I gave Daddy a blowjob last night," Beth husked, not turning her head. "It was ... under instruction, but we both enjoyed it -- a lot."

Both her sisters turned to me. "Under instruction?" Maureen demanded. "You instructed my sister to give her father a blowjob?"

"I did," I admitted. "We were breaking down barriers. Not being on a ship in orbit or on a colony world, there are limits to what we can bring to bear to teach a concubine obedience. You're all still on this world, operating within the limitations of this world's environment, rather than being in a new place where everything is different and there is no turning back. As it happens -- and your mother alluded to it -- there is no incest taboo in the colonies; many families make the choice at extraction to accept a loved one as a concubine and commit what would be a sin here to do it, rather than abandoning them. Confederacy medicine ameliorates what is already an overblown issue."

"Overblown?' Maureen erupted. "Genetic defects are overblown?"

"You need repeated incidents of intergenerational incest before you run any serious risk of defects -- animal breeders are well aware of this, since they regularly tune a genome by breeding an animal back to the parent or grandparent. If your great-grandmother is your sister, you might have a problem -- but if your mother is, you probably won't. The incest taboo came from direct observation BEFORE the scientific method..." I turned to Beth, "Haven't I preached this multiple times?"

"Yes, Master!" Beth found it in her to grin.

I turned back to Beth's sisters. "In any case, a blowjob does not result in offspring, to my knowledge." Judith was prepared to be angry, but she was watching Maureen for cues -- and Maureen was looking thoughtful.

"You enjoyed it?" Maureen asked Beth.

"It's still pretty kinky..."

"Yeah..." Maureen pursed her lips, eyeing me, then asked, "How much longer for the salmon?"

"It's just started," Tara replied. "Better get some water on for the asparagus, though."

Maureen hesitated a millisecond or two at the source of the reply, then said, "Right. The pot is in there..." I left to go sit in the living room. Britney was on her knees before the couch, helping Oliver comfort Vera. In a moment, I noticed Keisha heading for the stairs; at my inquiry, she said, "Got to get the kids up and their faces and hands washed." I nodded; things were well in hand.

Dinner was ... interesting. Out of concern for Abe's adaptability, mainly, everyone wore something -- but my concubines didn't wear much. Vera wore even less, limiting herself to the virtually transparent chemise with nothing under it, due to her recent whipping. She sat on a pillow and didn't lean back at all.

Britney turned out to have packed a little red number that matched Vera's black one fairly closely while providing a bit more coverage in the underlayer. My girls -- the ones who had them -- wore matching bustiers -- which apparently came with nipple covers that I hadn't seen. Keisha wore a halter-top and panties.

To say that Abe noticed would be understatement; I don't think he ate anything for the first ten minutes and I thought one of his eyeballs was going to pop out from trying to focus on Vera's breasts while eyeing them sidelong. The chemise did mask the stripes somewhat, but not her nipples or areolas. The girls were too young to care. Finally, I called him on it. "Abe, just look and get it over with."

Abe ducked his head. "Sorry!"

I didn't let it go. "Son, when a woman wears something that puts her on display, they expect you to look and enjoy the view -- or at least they do in MY house!"

"They do in mine, also," Oliver interjected.

Abe slowly turned his head and terrain mapped Vera's big tits with his eyeballs. "Fun, isn't it?" I chuckled.

"Yeah."

"I had the girls put something on so you wouldn't be embarrassed," I told him, "but when we get home, there are gonna be tits on display, because I like looking at them."

Abe's return look said 'Are you serious?' as clearly as if it had come out of his mouth.

"I'm not kidding," I insisted. "Your sisters are too young to care if people are naked; the only reason your mother and Keisha and Beth and Frieda are wearing anything is to keep you from going off the deep end over it."

Abe's eyes drifted over the women at the table. "It's okay..."

I thought Frieda was going to squirt potatoes through her nose! "Apparently you needn't have been concerned, Master!" she tittered.

I eyed her. "Would you like to be the test case?"

"Would I?!" Frieda bounded up out of her chair and circled around to Abe. "This thing zips up the back -- let me out, willya?"

While young Abe fought the zipper, Judith erupted, "Don't you think he's too young..."

"There is NOTHING wrong with the human body, in my humble opinion," I interrupted her. "Abe has been raised in a restrictive culture whose mores indicate that the display of the human body is 'nasty'. Personally, I would prefer that he got away from that thought process soon; it leads to all kinds of perverse behavior. Have you ever been to a nude beach? Eh, never mind..." I waved it off.

Meanwhile, Frieda shrugged out of her bustier, then stepped out of her panties. Kissing Abe on the cheek, she said, "Thank you, Abe!" and flounced back to her seat, her little titties jiggling.

I addressed Abe while waving at Frieda. "You can look to your heart's content. A little gentle exploration is okay, as long as you get permission and aren't a pain about it. Stuff that borders on being grownup stuff needs to wait until you're thirteen or so -- you'll know when."

"Okay." Abe proceeded to nearly miss his mouth ogling Frieda's tits.

I chuckled. "Don't poke yourself with a fork -- they'll be there all night -- and all day tomorrow, for that matter. And the day after that, and the day after that..."

"Really?"

"Promise. Cross my heart and hope to die."

Abe nodded, thinking about it. He took a bite, snapped a glance at Frieda, and returned his attention to his plate. Frieda looked like she was going to do something salacious, so I raised a finger in warning. "He's not going to be able to appreciate it all properly for several years yet."

"Yes, Master." Frieda subsided.

I turned to Abe. "So. Girls look nice. You okay with that?"

Abe snapped a look at Frieda and a look at Vera. "Yes." He forked in a piece of asparagus and chewed reflectively.

"Eat your fish, Baby," Tara pressed.

"Yes, Mama." After dutifully locking eyes with his mother, Abe pointedly dropped them to her chest.

I pursed my lips. "Ooookaaaayyy ... Open season, I guess. Do as you like, girls." Abe flicked another glance at his mother, then looked away.

Tara sat for a moment, grimacing. "Oh, all right!" Turning to Beth, who was seated on her left, she asked, "Unzip me?"

Beth did the honors, then turned her back to Tara, "I can't sit here like this if you two are going to be out." Tara unzipped her. Keisha looked around and grabbed her halter and threw it over her head, initiating an impressive bounce. Britney flicked a glance at Oliver, who muttered, "Limit yourself." Britney nodded and wormed out of the undergarment she was wearing.

I chuckled. "You're a wild man, Abe." He grinned from ear to ear, then shoved a forkful of fish in his mouth and perused the melons while chewing.

"I'm not taking MY top off!" Judith blustered.

"Why should you?" I replied. "You're a free woman. No one has even asked. On the other hand, it might be good practice; I doubt that Abe is a serial rapist at his age."