Chapter 16: Slumber Party

Hannah preceded our collection of women into the warmth of her home, stripping off her gear as she entered. She was greeted with "blert" from a streak of calico, as Baby darted out to scold her mistress. When Cathleen entered a few minutes later, our Pixie was deserted when Baby leapt to greet her new friend. The small cat seemed to know that she was needed and made a point of making the rounds to visit each new arrival. That appeared to break the ice, and our charges explored the house, laughing and talking.

The thermostat had been set at a day-time temperature, so the house was warm. Our charges began shedding clothes until the scenery resembled a teen-style, weekend slumber party. Let me become a chauvinist pig for a minute - there was hot and cold running pussy everywhere I looked. There were short women, tall women, blonde women, dark women, a pale woman, a black woman, an Indian, and a Native American. They ranged from very attractive to stunningly beautiful - that would be our Pixie. I wasn't about to touch, but I sure enjoyed looking.

We had bras, camisoles, sports bras and topless. There were thongs, boy cut, lace, and see-through panties. Rachel came up behind me, stuck her tongue in my ear, and then whispered, "Isn't this wonderful. They trust us. Trust YOU! I can't believe the difference."

Early on, Carole broke the ice by inserting herself under my arm and declaring, "I'm definitely not ready for sex yet, but I need hugs, kisses, gentle touches. You are my hero, so you are elected." She kissed me lightly on the lips, hugged me, and slipped away.

Over the next few hours, each of the entourage approached me to let me know that touching, kisses, and/or 'brotherly affection' was welcome, even highly desired. I made the rounds and hugged, kissed, and even patted a few butts.

The ladies all knew each other from their days confined together. There had been little else to do but talk between rapes. I had only picked up a few names, but thought it best to treat them all as if we had known each other for years. It seemed to work out.

For the rest of the day, they - we - played games. watched movies, ate, listened to music, sang, ate, and even snuggled. Sometimes with me, other times with each other. There was laughter, giggles, and sometimes tears, but relief and happiness were the prevailing moods.

The first night, my ladies and I crawled off to our bedroom and assembled our usual naked pile, Hannah on top of me, and the other two draped over each side. Close to drifting off, we heard the door open and a whispered, "May we cuddle with you?" Rachel lifted the covers and a body sipped in next to her while another rounded the bed to slip in next to Cathleen. Six people in one king bed!

I was quite warm when I woke in the morning. Hannah hadn't moved, and it appeared that no one else had either. It was quite a feat leaving the bed to take care of business without disturbing the others.

While pulling on my jeans, I noticed that Rachel's sidekick was Carole and Cathleen's was a young Native American named Naomi Windsong. Naomi was spooned up to Cathleen and was cupping her breast. One of her own was visible as a tan, cupcake-sized treasure.

After my trip to the bathroom, I headed for the kitchen where I found two early risers, still in bra and panties, making coffee and boiling water for tea. I nodded to them, wished them a good morning, and asked, "Please forgive me, but I can't make your names come to mind. I want to know you, so if you don't mind, refresh my memory and also tell me a little about yourselves."

The dusky woman spoke first. "I'm Yasmin, and I was traveling to the Black Hills with a friend when the bad men took me and killed my companion. I teach second grade in a school just south of Milwaukee. My father and mother came from India to work for a pharmaceutical company north of Chicago, and I was born shortly after they arrived. Thank you for my rescue and the way you have protected us."

The white blonde introduced herself. "My name is Amanda Hirsch, and I was a farm wife just south of here. I say 'was' because my husband was killed defending me and our two children from those criminals. They took me prisoner and killed my two little girls."

Tears rolled down each cheek, so I gathered her into a tight hug. She clung to me, sobbing for a while, then gently pushed away. "I'm not sure what I want to do now. My parents are both dead, and I have nothing and no one to keep me around here."

The coffee was ready for me and Amanda, and Yasmin brewed herself tea with the boiling water. We sat together in silence, sipping our morning brews, until another voice announced the entry of a lovely black vision wearing boy cut panties and nothing else. "Morning', ya'll." came with a deep southern accent. "I could sure use some of that liquid wake-me-up."

"Please help yourself," answered Amanda, "Cream and sweetener are on the counter and on the other side of the coffee pot. We were just refreshing Michael on our names and telling him a little about ourselves."

"I can do that," said the statuesque woman. "My name is Daniela Noel Boone - hell of a name for a darkie from Macon, Georgia." She laughed and continued, "My daddy was a big history buff and a jokester. He slipped my name on the birth certificate while Mom was still recovering. Coulda been worse. I'd hate to be Davida Crockett. Please call me Danni.

"I'm an unemployed CPA and management consultant and was on my meandering way to Seattle to look for a new job. Those jackasses intercepted me before I could even see the Bad Lands and Mount Rushmore."