Chapter 11: Henson Cigars

The girl stood and mindlessly scratched her curly pubes for a second. A close-up view showed she it was a thin patch of brown hair. A split window displayed her pussy as she had washed earlier. Her girlish pussy has a pink, barely open slit. She has a lighter pink covering for her hymen, protecting her inner parts. Once again, I notice her fine inner thighs; they are exquisitely shaped.

Ox said, “The girl scratching her pubes is Melody McBride. Her father is in shipping. Her mother is still in town if you are interested; I say that because you seem to go for older women lately.”

Ox paused, “Melody’s Dad is Ciaran McBride of clan McBride. They ship from Glasgow, Scotland, to and from the east coast. He has warehouses and his own pier in Portsmouth and a similar setup in Charleston.”

“Those two ports allow him to ship to most places on the East Coast except Massachusetts. He has a prejudice against northerners. His whole clan hates the English. The population is prevalently English in Boston. He is rich, powerful, and vicious.”

I said, “I don’t think I will mess with his Missus or his daughter. I’d rather not do that and end up in another duel. If I manage to kiss Melody, she will eventually kiss her mother and she will kiss her husband. They can get Exos that way.”

Ox said, “If the Missus kisses her husband? Some of the men here are not romantic in the least with their wives. I have heard some of them say kissing is for fops. i.e., homosexuals.”

I said, “Yes, I have a hard time understanding their behavior towards women. His loss. It’s more macho than intelligent. That behavior is typical of here. Maybe Melody kisses her Dad?”

“Ox said, “Our scientists say they think it’s the men’s hormone imbalances. It may also be partially attributed to their coming from a hunter-gatherer culture. They thrive on danger quite a bit more as a normal consequence of life. Farming and keeping animals to provide food are a new recent thing for them.”

Ox Continued, “The so-called manly-men look down on farming or farmers in particular. They think it should be done by women and slaves. Slavery became illegal in England and France. They just shifted over to an indentured servant model. Make no mistake, that’s just slavery with an expiration date.

Women mostly indenture themselves to be able to support themselves. Indentured Servitude is not illegal on a small scale.”

Ox continued, “Servitude became a similar thing to slavery. It uses a different name for legal propriety. A ruse of sorts. The indentured were and are tricked into signing indentured papers. They had no idea what they signed; because none of them could read.”

Ox said, “Later, that was considered too much like slavery. The owners that held the indentured papers, treated them exactly the same as they had slaves. That was held in disfavor, so some has changed over time into the sharecropper model used for farmers.”

“Indentured Servitude is still very much alive and well.”

Ox said, “The sharecropper model is considered better and more moral. But - it uses low pay; once again, the poor are downtrodden. The low pay is used by the company store to defraud them of their pay, which is almost always company script. Same shit, different day again!

The main difference between ‘indentured servant’ and ‘sharecropper’ is the sharecropper gets paid. Then he has to pay for his food and lodgings, and they take all the payback.

Ox said, “The company script is good only at the farm. Company stores only accept their own scripts. Town stores refuse the script as the farm will not buy it back from them. Lack of cash money makes it nearly impossible to pick up your family and move. That traps the sharecroppers every bit as much as the indenture did.”

Ox explained, “Knowing the authorities are watching. The whipping and torture and rape had to be curtailed. It still happens at remote farms. Government agents can’t get around everywhere. They have poor maps of where the farms are located. Bad maps are a thing here. Of course, our Heillizdt maps are outstanding. We used our geosynchronous satellites overhead and an AI with drones to survey and map.”

I said, “That might do it. Do we have maps of all the farms and other farm properties?”

Ox said, ‘Yes, it’s all in my memory banks. When Thomas bought the company that owned it all, Drozul ordered the big survey. We have exact markers in the ground and maps of each property. It can be printed out, although that may be too much reality for the locals. Perfect maps do not exist here. The local men are too sloppy about such matters.”

Ox continued, “The maps can be pulled up in your eye or on virtual PC screens. Here is the big map of everything with surrounding towns and land and water features.”

I giant wall-sized map popped up.

I said, “Holy fucking shit. Look at all that. Each property has a name. I have no idea what each one does. I have no idea how this is all supervised. It looks to be too much for any one man to handle.”

Ox said, “Ships-Beings (AI) on Drozul’s ship just finished making an Organization Chart. If you hover your eye over any property name, pausing displays the hierarchy above the name. Listed below is the farm manager’s name. It also shows each location by Lat and Long.”

He said, “In summary, this chart is the overall Org Chart listing with each Boss and their location. It lists its place within your businesses.”

I said, “I see a linen mill and cotton mill listed. What’s that about?”

Ox said, “Your holdings are bigger than you might think. Further down south, you have cotton farms and flax farms. Each has their own mills to process the fiber into cloth.”

“There are not enough males to go around willing to work, so the farms are only managed by males. Most unmarried females have to do something to make a living. There are also a lot of natives that are employed there.”

He said, “This map shows a linen factory in Elizabeth City, NC. There are several factories dedicated to different parts of the linen business. The linens are sold as a finished product. One looms fine linen, one looms standard linen, and a third makes canvas. There is also a dye factory. The Nansemund River is significant in the placement of all the factories. Factories require water.”

I said, “They don’t have electricity or motor power here; how are the factories powered? What runs the looms and such?”

Ox said, “Steam engines. As a matter of fact, bringing in coal by rail is a significant cost to running the linen business. Railroad workers and stokers are not cheap.”

“West of Chesapeake is a village called Suffolk. Outside of Suffolk are factory tobacco farms under the sharecropping model. Each tobacco farm has a male manager, and most farm workers are female.”

Continues, “Suffolk is the smoothest running part of the whole company. That’s the center for Henson Cigars. The men and women there are all happy. It’s well managed and even provides child care services. Child care is a necessity as so many working women have children. They are mostly single mothers.”

Continues, “They are single mothers because there is a shortage of men, and most men avoid marriage. Marriage here is mostly an upper-class phenomenon. Rich men marry because it puts their wives under their thumb. It also allows them to be involved in their children’s upbringing.”

“Luckily, the women here are fertile and needy when it comes to sex. Otherwise, there would be no children, and the whole civilization would crumble.”

“Suffolk is a factory town; the men go to town to drink booze and the women to loiter in stores. Rooms to rent for one hour are available. Much hanky-panky occurs in the one-hour rooms.”

I asked, “Is there more?”

Ox said, “Yes. Greenville, North Carolina, has a cotton gin setup with six surrounding cotton farms. Each farm has the typical male manager and the farm workers are females. Some other cotton planters supply the gin with cotton as well. It is run somewhat like the linen mill in Elizabeth City, NC.”

Ox continued, “Greenville also has a lot of indigenous natives that supply tobacco. They have a great affinity for growing tobacco. They run their own business, planting, harvesting, and curing tobacco. They sell it to us, and we ship that to your tobacco factories.”

Ox continued, “The local natives there are considered civilized. They earn money and buy things at the store. They speak English as well as their own languages. They live in their own style of homes. The farms each have a manager with very few males, so it’s run mostly by women again.”

Ox said, “The Pamlico River is problematic; it is shallow. It does allow barges to pass up and down the river to the Pamlico Sound area and to the ocean. The barges transfer cargo cross deck to sailing ships.”

He said, “The cotton gin mostly cleans the cotton and presses it into bales for shipping. Some bales are shipped to England. Others ship to other provinces here. Massachusetts makes a lot of cotton cloth.”

I said, “Who put this all together? How did someone build such a large organization?”

Ox replied, “It started a partnership of three wealthy Englishmen. They decided in the late 1700s to make a big impact in this area. They started small and rapidly grew big time as tobacco became important. It is very addicting. Social pressure to share things makes tobacco popular.”

“The three also diversified into other things. In the 1800’s cotton took off in England. After that, linen became important. The various parts were built and managed by the original men. They then passed down their businesses to their eldest sons. This is the usual way to property gets transfered here.”

Ox continued, “By the early 1930s, the last three male owners had become autocratic. They had degenerated to a hands-off management style. Inattention caused issues with output and quality.”

Ox continued, “The biggest problem was there was a two-year drought. That financially ruined the three idiot inheritors of the business. They had pissed away every dime they ever got and were easily ruined by the drought. If they had banked a small amount of money, they would have been fine.”

Ox said, “They were idiots. They had spent money on drinks, drugs, and women. They loved to gamble, too. A sane man would have bought his own bars and got it all for free. Face it, pussy is free to anyone that takes a bath here. Women WANT babies. Gambling? Well, it has its own reward. Gambling is not at all honest here.”

Ox continued, “The Bank of England heard of the three idiot’s money problems and bought up all the paper. The local banks were now in distress. Your father time hopped around and bought up the different pieces. He put them under reliable tobacco factory managers.”

Ox said, “Your dad has a small, two-seat ship here. It allowed him to get from place to place quickly. The portals are fine, but there is no need to have dozens of them. The ship is here and can be accessed by portal. It is normally sitting over a remote field, invisible, and with the aversion mode enabled. Walk to the portal and address it as “Dad’s Ship,” and you will be brought aboard.”

I said, “OK, thanks. That’s somewhat of a load off my mind. I see I need to go around to these places and put my eyes on the people running them.”

OX said, “The men who work for you are, by and large, Bravo males. Alpha males seem to have serious destructive natures as well as attitude problems. They are more fractious, not to mention depraved, and many are even semi-schizoid. Bravo’s are great for running things. None are particularly brilliant thinkers, but they offer steady management.”

“Bravo’s are also pussy hounds. They are nicer to women and can work with them. They use that to get as much sex as they can from the women.”

Ox said, “The other type of male here is the Sigma. In a nutshell, they are the wealthy. They are self-reliant and assertive. They are comfortable outside the regular social or group hierarchy. One might consider them lone wolves or mavericks. Does this description ring a bell?”

I said, “That sounds like my father.”

Ox said, “Like father - like son, Bill. You are, in fact, a Sigma in every sense of the word.”

OX said, “Back to business. The original partners set the whole thing up in the 1700s and wrote or had written manuals. They listed proper practices for each place. That’s in our files and accessible, too. As we go from place to place, I will be able to help you inspect things. I can compare the current management and techniques to the manuals. I’ll check for updates and evaluate efficiency.”

“In many cases, there are females pulling strings behind the scenes. Truth be known, women run your businesses, and many of the managerial men are just figureheads. They don’t read or write as well as the females do.”

Ox continued, “Your father paid the Bank of England in London in person. He used gold bullion bricks provided by Drozul and company. Your father spent several weeks moving about and checking things. He has fixed the biggest problems already.”

Ox continued, “Gold is pretty for jewelry but cheaply manufactured in the galaxy. It is actually not expensive or rare there. You are not the richest man in the British empire, but you are a close third in New England.”

“Whoa? That’s quite some legacy my dad created for me.”

Ox said, “He won’t tell you this, but you are his fair-haired child. As his youngest, he favors you a tiny bit above the others. Don’t get a swelled head or an attitude. Your mom’s pampered you, and so did he.”

I said, “I wouldn’t get an attitude. What’s the saying? Don’t bite the hand that feeds you. I need to get downstairs and start my day.”

Ox said, “I need to warn you. Your ‘mean-old stepmother’ is awaiting you downstairs.”

I laughed, “Mean-old? She’s a sweet lady. I was heading down to see her anyway.”

Ox said, “As you say, she does have a need to talk about a few things.”

“OK.”

I moved to my room and dressed for the day in fresh clothes.

I said, “Who is washing my clothes?”

He said, “As soon as you leave, Gigziks, the girl who gave you the blowjob, collects them, her or another conk. They are dry cleaned Heillizdt style on the ship.”

“She’s a ship’s concubine, so she has been assigned specifically to me?”

Ox said, “Yes, and also, yes. If you need to talk to her about something, send a message to her. It’s Gigziks if you didn’t get her name. If you want different clothes, let her know. Your clothes are all custom-made by the Heillizdt clothing designers.”

Ox said, “Bill, there are a couple designers brought in and seamstresses too. They are dedicated to your service and your channel. Gigziks is also your liaison point to Drozul. Drozul is supervising too many things right now. Gigziks is your personal Heillizdt contact for now - not Drozul.”

I said, “You know, I have been to the Nauti Buoy several times lately, and it’s always quiet. I thought my dad was sailing south?”

Ox said, “Ya, About that. They needed your room on Nauti Buoy. Your dad asked Drozul to build you one of those null bump-out rooms on your wall. Your bathroom is right there ‘behind’ the ankh portal symbol. From outside the building, you don’t know it’s there. All you need is authorization to enter the ‘alternate bathroom,’ which you have.”

I said, “So, my new conk, Rebecca, could shower after we get done here? I could authorize that?”

He said, “Just inform House. I think the channel and the subscribers would like to see her comb out her wet hair. Using a hair dryer on those damp blonde tresses would be a treat. You might have a special session with her to do just that.”

“Shut up, you made me hard with the thought. I miss her yummy body and scent already. There is something about her smell ... I also want to see her comb those tawny blonde locks and dry her hair with a hair dryer. I bet there’s an hour’s worth of jiggling boobs to be had just watching her do her hair. Think of those tits in slow motion. My GOD!”

I entered the hall and went down the stairs. My stepmother was in the dining room. I kissed her cheek and sat down.

“Good morning, Mother. I was out late; I apologize.”

She said, “No problem. I saw a woman I didn’t know leaving this morning; she’s not one of my boarders.”

I said, “No, she’s not. She is Rebecca Perry. We are business partners.”

I leaned over and whispered, “She’s my concubine as well. She has access to my room and me at all times.”

She smiled enigmatically. “Good. A young man needs a woman to help him keep his needs in balance.”

I paused to think. On my version of Earth at home, in my timeline, the feminine revolution had petered out. That was the mid-2030s as the population began to crash demographically. Men were no longer interested in what the feminists offered. Children got too expensive to have. The government mismanaged everything. Marriage had died.