Chapter 36

“Crazy how things turned out, ain’t it, Sir?” Amy’s brave front cracked a little. “We bet the farm, didn’t we?”

“There was no other choice, sweetie. Just one of those devices would kill us slowly and render a large chunk of real estate uninhabitable for years to come. Get Riza quietly and you two meet me in my inner office on the first floor, alone.” I said gently, “She will understand and I will feel better sharing the burden. You need to see the note that triggered it all. But secrecy must be paramount.”

“Understood, Sir.”

I put my dishes in the sink, went upstairs, got the computer and went down to wait. Amy went into the crowd of chattering girls, whispered something to Dr. al Aziz and followed my path. Riza arose, tagging along behind.

“Answers to life’s big questions, Ms McGee?”

“Yes and this is an Amy/Riza time. You must agree before we take another step that what you are about to see and hear is for your eyes and ears only. Repercussions will be huge if anyone knows and the plan ravels.”

“I had a feeling what we saw on the news was the tip of an iceberg. Lead on Amy, my silence is guaranteed.”

They arrived. “Please close and lock the door, and have a seat.” I pushed a stack of papers across the table.

“Look these over and tell me if, in your opinion, it is a fair assessment of our situation at midnight.” Both women read the summaries carefully, discussing the fine points and projections, before handing them back, with a nod.

“What do you see?”

Amy said sadly. “At best, an empty victory. Heavy casualties, collateral damages, unavoidable. It makes surrender and sacrifice attractive if mere survival is the goal. We’re not built that way. But fighting to the grave means taking many non-combatants with us, denying them the chance to determine their own destinies. We stand for that right to choose. If the conflict plays out, we cannot win without losing everything we stand for.”

“Even the empty victory is most unlikely anyway, Mark. Always a sniper lurking, always a bomb ticking, always a threat, never a moment to relax.” Riza elaborated, “The only way to ‘win’ is never to fight the battles. There is no one at the off switch, no one to call the shots. And if we found a leader of sorts, they would have no reason to back away. Martyrs have nothing to lose.”

“Like in the movie, ‘WarGames’, the only winning move is not to play.” Amy said, “Every scenario, mutual destruction.”

“Agreed.” I opened the ‘open letter’ and turned the screen to them. “Read this.”

Maybe fifteen minutes of reading and rereading passed. Eventually, Amy broke the silence. “I don’t see we had a choice. We couldn’t find the people in charge, so you delegated the search to those who could with incentives to cooperate.” With no irony, she continued, “Zephyr and the Ninjas declaring unilateral war on two nuclear powers, two major oil-producing nations and a major economic player, any of which could crush Zephyr like a bug, might be considered a little extreme, but they did call off the dogs. It worked.”

Riza sat there with a sort of inscrutable expression. I took the laptop, closed the screen and opened a new message to my new friends overseas. “Good start so far. You still have work to do. Be nice. We know you know how.” I keyed a few bots and sent the missive.

“What did we do just now?” Amy wondered. “Yes, Riza, we. The entire group lives and dies as one entity. I’m sure every girl in the house was thinking along these lines. We are smaller and severely outnumbered. We have to be faster and smarter to win and we always win. We have to hit first and hit harder than they expect. You might say we’re barking at the moon crazy, but we think of it as being innovative and unconventionally creative. We do crazy as standard procedure.”

“We gave them a pat on the head and their gas-fired generators back. They have lights and the water treatment systems are running again. Precisely, we gave them the ability to restore services. If they did more damage trying to fix it, that’s on them. If progress continues, we’ll let them use the cell phones. I did give them 24 hours.”

“You are either the greatest negotiator ever or the worst diplomat who ever lived.” Riza began to laugh out of control. “Maybe both. A house full of teenagers and a computer nerd just took on two thirds of the world and brought it to its knees. I’m proud to say I played some small part in this effective insanity. What a rush!”

“Some days you have to go all Old Testament on their asses. There is no half way and no point in talking about it.” I smiled, “Your part was not small, Dr. al Aziz. Your experience reading the implied subtext not only opened other doors, it confirmed suspicions. Do not sell yourself short.”

“Great. Which also means if it all goes into the toilet, I get some credit for that, too.”

“You got it, sister.” Amy giggled. “It ain’t all unicorns and rainbows.”

“That would be boring.” Riza hooted, “Where is the fun is that? Look at me, the ‘respected religious scholar’, trapped in the reputation, opinions accepted without question. Tonight, for the first time in years, as part of a serious debate, I was called out by an 18-year-old math prodigy, forced to step back and see the problem through her eyes. Faye was not wrong, neither was I, but together, we were righter. I can add to your recognition of the symbols and how the literature integrated them into a cultural vernacular. Amy, you can tell me how the social evolution created them to express new concepts. We not only untangled the knots tonight, we became more intellectually complete.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Riza. But this discussion cannot leave this room. Excuse the snark, but I thought you, as the senior scholar, deserved the whole story.” I added, “I knew you would understand the necessity for the risks taken and the price for failure. I appreciate your contributions to our brand of insanity. Welcome to our version of the world.”

“A world I could never have imagined before yesterday.”

I walked to her side of the table. “Gravity and time seem to have ignored our little analyst. You wear our Roman toga dress well.” I caressed her tits gently. She froze, but offered no objection.

“Thank you, Mark. I wouldn’t want to appear too timid to blend in with your girls. There is something to be said for peer pressure. This toga makes me very self-aware, but in a way, quite alive. I understand the appeal. It’s nice to be appreciated on every level. It makes a girl feel good.”

“You should and you do. You could pass for thirty with those nice perky boobs, girlish body and tempting ass.” I rolled her hardening nipples between my fingers. “Extraordinarily responsive too. For a ‘senior scholar’, you appear to be pretty low mileage lady. Was Levi right?”

“He wasn’t completely wrong.” She sighed, “Truthfully, Remi was my camouflage as much as I was his.”

What the hell, why not? “Stand.” As she came to her feet, I lifted the toga up and off, leaving her naked, flushed and panting. A soft touch on her exposed clit and a finger slipping past her labia revealed another truth. ‘You are primed to come out of hiding, dripping your readiness down your legs, Riza.”

Amy helped her sit on the edge of the table and spread her knees. I dropped my shorts and stepped closer. Riza stared at my rock hard shaft, lust mixed with fear in her eyes. “You are going to get a cunt full of Sir’s dick, sister, and unless you say ‘no’, you will feel what most of the girls here have felt.”

She gripped my cock and rubbed it against Riza’s wet lips. I pressed forward, watching her watch my prick split them apart. She moaned as the head entered and tore the vestiges of her cherry to tatters. I worked my rod in and out, gaining depth and lubrication on each stroke. I let it soak when I touched the end, feeling her flutter around me.

“It fit! I was sure you would tear me into pieces. So full. Will the rest go in?” She wheezed, “I feel so strange inside. Something is happening. I’m going to explode!”

I seesawed for a few strokes. Actually, more than a few strokes. “Let it happen, Riza. Let go. Work those hips, fuck me back. Good girl. You are going to be a great fuck. I can’t believe you’ve never been popped. Show me what you are made of.”

“Oh! My! Gods! This is incredible! What, what? Whaaaaaaaaaaa!” Her body went wild, quaking and shaking, tits dancing in circles. Her insides gripped and spasmed around my pounding dick, a milking machine gone mad.

“I underestimated you, Riza al Aziz. This is a no-mileage, factory fresh, high performance pussy. Time to open her up and see how good you fuck at speed.”

I jack hammered that sweet hair-triggered twat through two more rapid orgasms, filling her full and forcing in the last inch crashing into her clit in the process. She lost her mind and any contact with this world, flopping like a deflating balloon with a nervous condition. Riza had spent decades saving up for this moment and the sudden release sent her into orbit. I can take some credit for her reaction, but not all that much.

Amy was laughing. “Now she knows how we all feel. Good on you.” She helped me back into my pants after sucking me somewhat clean. We left the naked and thoroughly broken-in Dr. al Aziz on the table, legs hanging bonelessly over the edge.

A soft knock sounded at the door. I closed the computer and nodded to Amy, already in motion. A very familiar voice spoke, “I have a message from Colonel Billings. He wants to know if I can live here, close to the Clinic. The RIA budget will pay all expenses or construct living quarters next to the Women’s Clinic on the lower level next door. He says I need a discreet address for official purposes. He’ll call back later when, as he put it, ‘The dust settles on this very crazy day.’ I guess that is some kind of code. Lot of that going around today.” A gentle giggle.

“Felicia Siobhan O’Malley. Get your hot little self in here now!” I shouted. My very first lover flew through the door and into my arms. She tried to burrow into my chest. “Let me look at you, baby cakes.” I laughed, peeling her back enough to see her beaming face.

“In seventeen years, you haven’t changed much. An inch or so taller,” I traced her jaw line, “maybe a little more sculpted here, same little nose, cute as a box of kittens.” I picked her up and stood her on an ottoman by the sofa. “Feather light. That didn’t change. Now I can see you better.”

“God, I missed you looking at me. Your eyes made me burn. They still do. I waited so long for this feeling again.” She swayed slightly. “You’re stronger, too. It used to be harder to put me on your pedestal.”

“It was never difficult, Felicia.” I whispered. “You liked my pedestal.”

“You’ve changed more than a little, Mark Carlyle Allyn. A bunch taller, with that stupid grin, and those eyes that I can feel on my skin. Your hair is lighter and softer, but you still can’t make it behave.” Felicia ruffled it. “Your voice still sings to me and the air around you makes me feel squishy inside. I can’t believe how lucky I am to get posted here. Is it real?”

“It’s for real. We’ll talk details about your posting, later, baby cakes. Right now I want to soak you in.” Someone, probably Ellie or Caralyn, after proper grooming, had dressed her in a half-sheer silver miniskirt and a sheer white crop-top. She had a solid silver choker with an S/S Z-girl closure.

Revived and still naked, Riza sat on the table, staring, clearly fascinated at the spontaneous scene playing out. I heard her ask Amy what was happening.

“Felicia is his oldest friend in the world. They grew up together. This is the first time in seventeen years they’ve seen each other.”

“Are they going to have sex here in front of us? Should we leave?”

“No, Riza, we should stay, and no, they will not have sex. Unless she stops him, Sir is going to fuck her stupid. He is going to split her open with his big cock, the same cock that was in you minutes ago. And she will love it.”

I began a slow walk around the ottoman, touching and caressing as I talked. “You really haven’t changed much, Feelie. A smaller waist, just enough curve in your slender hips to let the world know you’re a woman child.” After sliding my hands all the way to her ankles and back up from the rear, I squeezed her bottom. “Always perfect, firm, almost round enough to keep your panties from falling off.”

She swayed and purred to my voice. “You make me feel beautiful. Every girl we knew wanted what I had, needed you to see and want them.”

“Have your new titties changed?” Circling to the front, I lifted her crop-top over her head. “Your little girl puffies are gone. These pink and hard nipples suit you better. Lovely toppings an a sweet dessert, they beg to be nibbled.” I did, suddenly nipping her between my teeth. She hissed. “You used to go wild when Maya Nance sucked and bit your boobs while Patsy Garrick licked my juice out of your drippy twat.”

She was shivering, teetering on the edge.

Amy pulled Riza to the door. “Quick! Go get Holly, Polly, Charity, Rochelle, anyone, and hurry back. Sir is in his Alpha Prime Berserker zone. We can’t do this alone. Don’t ask. You’ll see. Go.”

I pulled Felicia’s skirt down and off, leaving her naked before my eyes. “Your clothes still fall right off for me.” I softly cupped her pussy and began to squeeze, rolling her clit under my thumb. “Have you been naked for other boys, Feelie? Do you let men touch you like this?”

“I obeyed your orders, Mark. Never. No one in seventeen years ever made me want to be touched. No eyes made me yearn to be seen like yours. No one ever smelled like you.” She pulled my shirt over my head, tossed it aside and reached for my waistband. “Hurry, Mark, let me come, I’m so close.”

“Come for me.” I nipped her nipples and rolled her clit under my thumb causing her to peak suddenly and squeal loudly.

Amy, ripped off her toga dress, dragged my shorts down and pulled Felicia to her elbows and knees on the floor. “Bone that hot twat now. I know how she feels, Sir. Seventeen years between fucks. It will be like her first time again. Better. She wants you to take what is already yours.”

That girl gives wonderful advice. I should give her a raise. Or at least a rough tumble like she loved.

I dropped to the floor, notched my post in Feelie’s cunt and slowly drove it non-stop, all the way home. Damn, she was tight, tighter than she was all those years ago. This was fine pussy, not to be wasted. She began to wail and screech. “I’m the same size. You got huge! I’m taking a baseball bat doggie style and it feels great!”

“Amy, our old fuck buddy, Patsy, said she could lick clit like a porn star. Let her prove it on yours”

Amy hit the floor in front of Feelie, grabbed her ears and pulled her face down. “I love a good clit licking, fucktoy. Make me come and I’ll show you how I do it after Sir takes his share.”

I slipped one hand to Felicia’s clit, the other to a nipple and took my share and then some. “It isn’t like she’ll run out of pussy, Amy. For two years I tried use it up, but she always had more to stretch around my cock.”

“You never stretched my cunt like this, Mark Allyn. You used to fuck all three of us nearly to death.” Felicia whispered harshly, “You’re killing me now.”

“Three?” Amy squeaked out, “Thought Hope was your third. Who else before Charity’s mom?”

“We treated Maya and Patsy like willing human props and extras in our little doctor’s office role playing fantasies. Their gave up all their cherries to me, but they were more into each other than I was in them, which was a lot. I suppose I think of them as supporting actresses in the Felicia/Mark games.”

Talking about our old partners really got her cranked up. “Why does watching you with other girls make me so hot?” Interesting. “Who got this dick shoved in them next?” She gasped between sucks at Amy’s wet clit.

“You went to the School of the Arts in Winston-Salem. I went to Science and Math in Durham and nailed the very eager-to-loose-her-virginity Britney Gilbert the first week. It’s a wonder we ever got anything else done that year. The youngest and horniest kids there, we got caught naked so many times by our classmates it isn’t even funny. We had to learn ASL bec 3+ause people paid too much attention to our whispered plans to sneak away and screw our brains out. She still sends updates wherever she is.”

“You are fucking me with the cock that fucked the famous TV reporter?”

“Yep, although she was neither famous nor a TV personality then. Britney was an over-sexed science geek who took my dick in all three holes as often as she could manage. The future TV reporter left for New Zealand with her folks, but happily left all three cherries in Durham.” I pounded her harder with each clipped word. “She was pretty famous for that. In fact we were rather legendary in the neighborhood.”

She stopped breathing for the longest time and then began to huff and puff into Amy. Her scream was muffled when the dam broke. Taking my XO with her, Feelie rode the wave until she crashed on the floor, rippling like Jell-o. Looking up, I spotted Holly and Polly, naked and wet.

I stacked them on the table’s edge like I did Leah and Jenny that day, face to face, tits to tits and pussy to pussy, and pumped my dick between them, hitting both clits on each pass. I pulled away and slammed into Polly’s fuckhole hard and fast.

She smashed her mound down into her sister’s button and gasped as I long stroked her for a minute or so. I jerked my cock out and hammered it into Holly. She panted just as erratically and bounced up into Polly. Both were on the verge of climax when we started. The sudden surprise was all they needed to come, more than once in that twin unison fashion, as if they were connected at the cunt, rubbing clits as I pinched nipples at random.

Pattern established, I screwed both twins simultaneously until they ran out of steam. They only lasted twenty minutes but they were very good minutes. The Ellis Twins did not need practice to become good fucks. They were excellent right out of the box.

Still hard as a rock, I unplugged from Polly and captured the first girl I could reach, intending to fuck her standing. She was taller than the other girls this morning so it was easy to bend my knees, aim, straighten up and go deep, through a rather resistant maidenhead into virgin territory. Her feet came off the floor as I filled the tight wet pussy. She squeaked softly as her legs wrapped my waist.

“Oh lord, Daddy’s in me, fucking me on the dick that made me!” Her hips began to do what nature demanded of girls willingly impaled on a hard cock. “I’m not dreaming anymore.”

I looked up into the saucer-sized eyes of Charity Lea Rabin. What’s done is done, might as well enjoy it, I thought. She wanted it or she would not have been naked, standing in line. I lowered us to the floor and slowly maneuvered her to cowgirl position.

“You’re in control. Work your steamy twat around until you find what feels best and fuck me like your mama did.” She craned her neck down and watched her wide stretched lips surround the invader making history of her virginity. “Yes, just like that, up and down, little circles. You start out great and get better.”

“I dreamed of this, but not this good. Grandma Esther said my first time would hurt but only once if my lover was good. You must be good, Daddy. It feels super now.” She demonstrated just how super she could make me feel while getting so far into it, the first dick-induced orgasm of her life knocked her silly.

I twisted and tugged her nipples, as we pushed her into her second and third. “You have a talented cunt, baby girl. We will be doing this a lot. I can’t wait to see if you assfuck as well as your Mama. Can you deep throat your Daddy’s big dick? I’ll find out soon.”

Dirty thoughts and nasty talk combined with the Daddy fuck to send the girl into a boob-shaking frenzy. Charity finished herself off by dragging her tits against my chest and pulsing spasmodically around my rigid rod. I unplugged and lay her on the sofa. “Catch your breath, baby. We have all the time in the world to explore the rest of your body.”

I pushed Portia and Rochelle to their backs on the floor, side-by-side, force fucking Portia, then Rochelle, missionary style as hard as I could. There must be an analgesic component in the Alpha effect, because neither did more than wince when their hymens gave it up and I stuffed them full of fat, cunt-busting cock.

I tried my best to drive them through the floor, only to be bounced back up by those impossible elasticized, honeydew melon tits. They were two of the most entertaining fuck dolls I ever had the great pleasure using and talk about responsive! I was positive I had stuck my dick into volcanoes during a Richter 7 in a hurricane.

I succeeded in wearing them out before they killed me and had more in the tank. Tiny Tara was but one step away, naked, wet and trembling, eighty-five pounds of frantic anticipation. “You want it.” I growled for real, lifting her to eye level. “How hard?”

“Oh God. Use me anyway you want, have me every way you can. Jam it in.” She was whispering. “Don’t let me think about it. Don’t think about me. You should hurt me if it makes you feel good, you want to.”

Wrong answer. I’m no saint but I’m no sadist either. “We need to talk.” I put the confused girl down on the sofa and sat beside her. “That is not possible, Tara. I will always think about you. I think today is not your time. Secret fantasies and role-play is one thing and we have fun while in character. Several girls actually are the characters, considering me their owner, but we reach an understanding of our limits and expectations. For others, personal boundaries are pushed, embarrassing secrets exposed and openly explored, often in extreme ways. There is no cruelty for its own sake.”

We attracted a small and sympathetic circle of experienced Z-Girls. I added sadly. “We do not find pleasure in causing pain for its own sake.”

“We always have a safe word.” Patty told her. “We trust Mark to honor it and he trusts us to use it. We don’t believe you will before it’s too late and maybe not even then.”

“Some limits are extreme, Tara, some of our fantasies involve a little pain, a little danger, but only to enhance the pleasure. Some of us know what we want but cannot bring ourselves to ask. Our Master sees through our façades, sometimes pushing us to the scary place we need to go.” Caralyn assured her, “Whether that place is loosing our cherries in public places with an audience of strangers, being bound and helpless, ravaged by pirates, paraded naked on the street or being casually fucked and tossed aside, he knows what we really want and when to stop.”

“You will stay with us, Tara Rooney.” Amy took charge. “You have to work through your potentially dangerous reality and find a safe balance before you fall into the trap. Girls in this house run the gamut from submissive to casual to bossy. We will find your place on the scale and keep you there.”

“Listen to her. You are a very easy person to like and are worth more than you think. Some day we’ll have a lot of fun, but only when I know you can and will say ‘no’. We need limits and we need to push them, but we don’t need to be broken in the process.” I said. “You can be a creative, accomplished woman and an uninhibited bed partner at the same time. But you are not ever the disposable chattel you imagine yourself to be.”

Caralyn and Patty led her away and presumably upstairs to talk to the Tanners and the others.

“We are glad you had the insight, Mark.” Mitzi quietly affirmed. “I did not see that coming.”

“She didn’t either and she scared me, Mitzumi.” I admitted, “Tara needs to know her demon for what it is. It will not go back in the cage. When she has it under control she can deal with the exciting side without allowing herself to be destroyed.”

“That’s kinda what you thought about me, isn’t it?” Faye whispered.

“Not exactly. You are book smart, just not experienced-in-life smart. Being innocently naïve and curiously compliant around people who care for you is OK. Knock yourself out, let me help you. But don’t open doors for someone to take advantage. I will not allow any girl to become a punching bag. You need to recognize the rotten scum who will selfishly exploit your little submissive side, see the risks and develop the defenses you need. You know you have value, not how much.”

I sighed, “Tara is the assistant who does the work, but her name is not on the label. She’s the teacher who guides the student whose name is on the project. I think eventually she began to believe she did not deserve any credit for her contributions. Any self-esteem she might have had withered away from lack of validation. She looks in a mirror and nothing of worth looks back. Maybe a little natural submissiveness, not bad in itself, quietly grew into masochism in her subconscious until only pain makes her feel completely present. It’s as if she believes she can only give pleasure by allowing others to cause her pain. Faye, you were primed to be hurt by others. Tara is already a victim of her misconceptions and will hurt herself too much. I can’t let that happen.”

“Now, I’m very surprised, Mark, that you would care.” Mitzi was still going to be confrontational. “Who are you really?”

“First, thank you for your participation last night. And I’m aware you don’t think much of me, Ms Yamagouchi. I’m OK with that. I neither need nor ask for your approval. You are hard to impress and I won’t try. I have too many obligations to waste time pleasing everyone.” I shrugged. “Right now, I need to know if we actually saved New York from a radioactive hell and if the world is safe for my family to return to normalcy.”

“Just what is your normal?” She persisted, sneering, “Being called, Master and Sir and Boss by your captive harem?”

“How dare you? This is not a harem and we are not captives. I don’t like your attitude, Coach.” Caralyn snapped. “You have no idea how thin the ice under your feet is.”

Amy interrupted, laughing. “You are asking the wrong person, Mitzi. He doesn’t have a clue. We decide on ‘normal’ day-to-day and we do whatever we want. Talk to us about our normal. Everything he does, he does for us. True, Sir ultimately is our leader, but we are volunteer partners, not conscripts. We like it this way.”

“Ms. Yamagouchi. Have you ever been sold on an auction block into actual slavery to pay a bar tab? We are not talking about domestic violence nor the economic social inequalities American women justifiably oppose, but real rape-you-ten-times-a-day, beat-you-to death in a cheap Burmese whorehouse, and no one cares, human trafficking kind of slavery?” Linh cut in sharply. “When was the last time your parents gave you to mob bosses to use as sexual party favors until you were used up and murdered for fun in a snuff film? Were you ever abandoned by your family and discarded like so much worthless garbage? Have you ever considered prostitution just to have a roof and food? Fucking strangers so your sister didn’t have to? Having nothing to sweat but a glass ceiling in the way of your ego sounds pretty damn good in comparison, doesn’t it? You have no idea what reality is to milloins of girls, you spoiled baby.”

“Were you told by your mother that you had no more value than a piece of furniture? Did she murder your father to gain status in the eyes of her criminal lover? We have, Ms Yamagouchi. That was the life most of us faced when he rescued us. He didn’t know who we were; all he knew was that defenseless people were in danger. He struck hard and fast to set us free. He gave us shelter with no obligation, no expectation of repayment, simply because there was need and he could.” Caralyn was getting pissed off. “There was no quid pro quo, asked or implied. How we see him is no concern of yours. How we address him is our choice, not his. Collectively, we control hundreds of millions in personal accounts and trust funds. I have more money in the bank than I can ever spend yet remain here. Can you understand that?”

“I’ll make it simple.” Yumi snarled. “Until you have been in our place, your opinion of our ‘normal’ is unimportant. You are not qualified to pass judgment on any of us, especially him. What is important is that he would do the same for you even today. He is incapable of not doing the right thing.”

“Amy, Caralyn and Yumi, she will accept our choices or she won’t. I simply hope she doesn’t misunderstand our motivation, sacrifice or dedication to the common good.”

“How can a person not understand what we do?” Suki asked in exasperation. “We send glass-ceiling installers to the morgue by the carload. Seems pretty fucking sincere to me.”

“I think Mitzi needs to seek out ways to be offended, invent them if necessary, in order to display her superior sensibilities. I call it intellectual snobbery. She is not going to like this, but she has a preinstalled bias. If you don’t agree with her narrow point of view, you must be wrong, period. End debate.” Amy said. “Must be nice to be so sure of yourself.”

“So our free choice to stay must be wrong, somehow, because she doesn’t agree. We aren’t what she wants us to be and are infuriatingly happy about it. But we are freely choosing so by definition we can’t be wrong. Such a conundrum doesn’t fit into a black and white, my way or the highway world, so she blames her inability to resolve the artificially created contradiction on my Master, the subtle beast.” Suki giggled openly. “Think what you will, but Master has never done anything ‘to’ us that we didn’t want. What he does ‘for’ us is beyong measure.”