Chapter 6

The sign, with its bright red, block-letters, caught Stephanie’s attention:

HUMAN TRAFFICKING NOTICE

Are you or someone you know being sold for sex or—

That’s all she had time to read before Gene hustled her and her mother through the doors of the highway rest stop.

Early that morning, Gene woke everyone and ordered Stephanie and her mom to pack for a week’s stay. “Pack nice clothes,” he directed. “Hurry up, we need to leave,” he shouted.

They’d been on the road since, and Stephanie knew what it meant. Gene found someone willing to buy her.

Preparations for this began shortly after her twelfth birthday. About the time most daughters learned about the “Birds and the Bees and Birth Control.” Natalie’s daughter learned the facts of life for a genetically engineered sex slave. Those earlier talks helped her to stay calm. She knew her owner would be wealthy. Her price almost guaranteed a pampered life. After all, buying her was equivalent to purchasing a near irreplaceable and unique artistic masterpiece.

Mom’s concerned glances confirmed she also suspected Gene’s agenda. His constant hovering, even bribing their way into the family restrooms, prevented any private talks.

The seemingly endless ride gave Stephanie ample time to consider her future. Thanks to her mother’s design, once her new owner “made full use of her,” she’d begin to develop a deeply powerful bond. Her mother’s term, the bond was an actual full-blown physical addiction to intimate relations with one person.

Other than Mom’s crazy idea, there wasn’t a way out. Stephanie couldn’t go to the police. If she did, they’d discover her and her mother’s illegal status and deport them. Addicted to Gene, Mom would soon die without a fix. If Stephanie ran away and avoided capture, her inherited genetic “programming” created another obstacle. Stephanie’s infrequent ovulations brought extreme mood swings. Worse, her fertile state also made her especially vulnerable to bonding. If she were “in the wild” and ovulated, she’d bond to whoever was strong enough to deal with her.

That left Stephanie with Mom’s crazy idea. Gene was Mom’s second owner, and she still felt a vestigial bond to her first. The idea, the crazy idea, was simple. If Mom could retain the effects of multiple bonds, her daughter could as well. This might allow Stephanie to switch between them. When the Timms “family” moved to their new home, Jason, the boy next door, became the target for Stephanie’s secret bond. The tricky part was limiting how much Stephanie became addicted.

A truck, with a loud diesel engine, roared past in the right lane. The noise jarred Stephanie from her thoughts. As the truck raced past, she noticed its Cincinnati Bengals bumper stickers. Jason worshipped the Pittsburgh Steelers and despised the Bengals. He’d taught her the rules of American football, and they’d watched games together. Like bright summer sunlight banishing the dark, just thinking about Jason pushed her black thoughts away. She remembered running her fingers through his never-quite-combed hair, and how she melted when his cool breath tickled her neck. She’d been slow to realize they liked each other. He, of course, knew it right from the start. That first day when they met, it amazed her than a man, well a young man, would ask her to keep him company. Visiting Jason and his parents felt like she stepped into a fairy tale. His parents behaved as if they loved each other, and they never ever screwed in front of her.

The day wore on, and Gene became more agitated. Like her and Mom, Gene was an undocumented alien. His forged identity would never pass if he tried to board a plane.

Mom did what she could to keep him calm, even offering to fellate him. Stephanie slumped down in her seat and pretended to sleep.

Once her eyes closed, thoughts of Jason stomped all over her worries. No one knew him like she did. She understood his jokes and listened to his dreams. If Stephanie had any regrets, it was cutting him off when he confessed his feelings. It wasn’t his fault that she couldn’t love him back. She should have lied and told him she felt the same.

Night fell, and Gene looked for a place to stay. An old motel with a vacancy sign beckoned. Their room, a double, surprised everyone with its cleanliness. Gene shooed Stephanie into the bathroom. “Take a shower and get in bed. We leave early.”

After she finished, Stephanie exited the bathroom carrying her clothes. Gene had Mom face down on their bed while having sex with her from behind. The wet slapping sounds and rhythmic grunts chased her to her own bed. Even under the covers, with the pillow over her head, the nauseating sounds went on and on. Finally, they stopped, and Gene grumbled his way into the bathroom. When the door closed, Stephanie rolled over and dared a peek. Mom lay on her side, covered with a sheet. Her even breathing indicated she’d stay zonked-out for a while. The tears came, and Stephanie curled up. She’d never felt so alone in her life.

While eating breakfast, Stephanie felt her first real twinge. Something, some part of her was missing. She listened to the men moving around them, searching for one special voice. Every man she brushed past smelled wrong. The sensation increased even after Gene resumed his drive. She tried to doze, to drift away, but some undefined itch kept her on edge.

Around noon, while Gene recharged their van, she and Mom managed a brief conversation. “Mom, somethings going on, I can’t stop thinking about Jason, even more so than yesterday.”

Mom nodded. “If you concentrate and remember his touch, does it help?”

Stephanie closed her eyes and imagined him kissing her good night. It did seem to push the odd sensations back. “It does.”

“You may have bonded to him a little. Good, that’s what we want.”

“I guess.” She knew her mother’s plan, but this was the first time she experienced what it meant for her. “Will it always be this way?”

“Not exactly. We’ll talk later.”

A change in the road surface woke her. A sign read, “Welcome to Wichita.” Wichita, Kansas? All she knew about Kansas was they had tornados.

Gene found another hotel, much like the last one. As before, he told her to get in the bathroom and “Get cleaned up.” They had a meeting later, and she needed to look nice.

After her shower, Stephanie stood at the sink, brushing her teeth. The bathroom door opened, and Mom, nude from the waist down, entered. Mom pushed the door closed and reached for a handful of tissues. Grimacing, her mother blotted away at the mess between her legs.

Gene must have had himself a quickie, or Mom would still be out of it.

Neither spoke until Mom turned on the shower. Once covered by the noise, her mother leaned close. “It’s not what you think, not exactly. I got Gene to talk. He said this is a trial visit. A couple of days, then we’ll return home.”

Stephanie blanched. No telling what it took for Mom to tease information from Gene.

The mansion set far back from the road. As Gene navigated the curved asphalt drive, more of the structure came into view. While the building presented a narrow face to the road, the bulk of it lay hidden. Another interesting fact was that Gene didn’t stop at the front entrance. Instead, he continued around to the rear of the house and parked near a service entrance.

A man met them at the door. Tall, gray-haired, and fit. His face tight while he studied his visitors. Gene stepped forward. “Mr. Smith? I’m Gene Timms.”

Fear made the moment unreal, and Stephanie almost burst into giggles. Clamping down on her emotions, she forced herself to stay quiet.

“Ah, Mr. Timms. Too bad, you’re unable to fly. The drive must have been interminable.”

Mr. Smith invited them inside. After a few darkened rooms and hallways, they ended up in a well-appointed library. Another man, far younger than Mr. Smith, waited there with a drink in his hand.

“My son, Daniel,” Mr. Smith indicated the young man.

Gene spoke. “This is Natalie and her daughter, Stephanie.” He pointed at each in turn.

The young man, Daniel, spoke. “Jesus, Dad, they’re both beautiful. Hell, they could be twin sisters.”

The outburst drew a sharp glance from Mr. Smith, which his son pretended to not notice. “Mr. Timms, would you or your property want anything to drink?” He waved at a side table, holding an assortment of beverages. “We have some time before dinner.”

Gene gestured to Mom, and she fetched a vodka for him and ginger ales for herself and Stephanie. Stephanie didn’t trust herself to speak. They took seats near an unlit fireplace. Daniel sat next to his father.

“I trust you received the information packet?” Gene asked.

“I did.” Smith replied. “The Silk Road marketplace is quite efficient. However, I dislike the terms for this visit.”

“It’s quite simple. No one is to touch the girl until I have received payment in full.”

Smith crossed his legs and smiled. “Agreed, but the non-refundable deposit should entitle me to a few samples.”

“Natalie can provide samples as needed. She is identical to her daughter in all important aspects. She is also quite skillful.” Gene ended his statement with a leer.

Whoa! Gene just offered Mom to this guy, and all she did was smile. What’s going on?

Smith studied Mom, then turned back to Gene. “The spec sheet notes these creations have perfect loyalty. That they will aggressively resist advances from another suitor. If this is so, then how is she capable of providing samples?” Smiling, Gene turned to Mom. “Tell him, Nat.”

Natalie nodded. “Mr. Smith, My owner has conditioned me to accept an occasional lover. It won’t be an issue for me if he remains in view. I may even enjoy the experience. If you’re capable.” Her last statement made the challenge clear.

Double whoa! Mom just threw down the gauntlet! I wish I were as brave.

Smith chuckled as if only his satisfaction mattered. “What’s it like, missy, fucking a man who isn’t your owner?”

Mom smiled. Smith’s words couldn’t rattle her. “It’s a bit like wanting steak but only getting the bone.

Daniel burst out laughing but cut it off at a curt gesture from his father.

Supper might have been delicious, but Stephanie thought it tasted like bile. Somehow, Daniel appointed himself her companion and sat across from her. Every time she dared to glance up from her plate, his blue eyes were there.

Negotiations went on throughout the meal. After the desert, Natalie took Stephanie to the powder room. “I’m going with Gene and Mr. Smith to provide ‘samples.’”

“But Mom that’s—”

“Sweetie, I’ll be fine. Who knows, it may even be fun.”

“What about the son, Daniel?”

“He’ll keep you company, nothing more than that. Be polite but keep your guard up.”

“But what if he wants me to ... you know.”

“Sweetie, you’re my daughter, and there isn’t a single man in the world you can’t handle. If Daniel doesn’t behave, do whatever you need to make him stop. Just don’t hurt him too much.”

After the parents retired upstairs, Stephanie and Daniel returned to the library. They sat across from each other at the empty fireplace. She refused or ignored his repeated offers of a drink or conversation.

“You don’t want to talk, do you?” he asked.

She had enough of his badgering. “No, leave me alone.”

“Why not? I’m beginning to think you don’t like me.”

A desperate surge of anger gave her strength. Daniel’s twinkling blue eyes annoyed her. “I don’t know you well enough to dislike you.”

“Oooh, zinger!” Daniel clutched at his chest. “Direct shot.” He leaned forward. “You’re even more beautiful when you’re angry.”

Either Daniel told the truth or, more likely, attempted reverse psychology. If she didn’t want to appear more attractive, she’d have to act nicer. Either way, she didn’t care. She did the smart thing and tuned him out.

Apparently, this didn’t please Daniel. Stephanie heard an irritated chuff, and a finger reached out and touched her knee. “Don’t ignore me,” he said.

“Take your hand off my knee.”

With a laugh, he removed his finger, then slid forward to sit on the edge of his chair. “I’m sorry, Stephanie, it’s ... look, you’re beautiful, and I’m a guy, I can’t help but be attracted to you.”

She gave him a flat distrustful stare.

“Hmm ... you are not what I expected.”

“What, that I’m not a bimbo?”

“No, you’re not. Let’s try something different. Do you shoot pool?”

“Pool?” She hadn’t intended to reply.

“It’s a game. C’mon.” He stood and stepped to the side of his chair and waited.

Stephanie stared, unsure of what she should do. Mom was upstairs, doing who knows what with that disgusting old man. If Mom could do that, Stephanie could play a stupid game. With a fresh sense of confidence, she followed Daniel across the room. Under an ornate leaded glass lamp, stood a large covered rectangular table. With a flourish, the younger Smith removed the cloth cover and exposed a green felt-covered surface.

Daniel gestured, “This is a pool table.” From underneath the table, he produced a hollow wooden triangle and placed it on the table. Daniel proceeded to fill the triangle with different colored balls. “These are the pool balls. The object is to use a stick, called the cue, to strike the white ball, to knock your balls into the pockets.”

“Which balls are mine?” The question sounded stupid as soon as it slipped out. If Daniel noticed, he didn’t react.

“It depends. The person who breaks gets whatever goes in a pocket. If nothing goes in, it’s an open table for the next player.” He glanced at her across the table. “I have my own stick, we’ll share.”

“How am I supposed to make this shot?” Stephanie had stripes, and the only available shot had the cue ball in an awkward spot.

“Lean over the table and stretch out your arms. You’ll want to put some back spin on the cue, and it’ll roll back and set up your next shot.”

“How?”

He showed her a small, disarming smile and approached. “If I may?”

Since beginning the game, Daniel kept his hands to himself. Most of the time, he kept to the opposite side of the table. Heck, she only caught him trying a peek up her skirt once. “All right, show me.”

“Lean over the table and line up your shot.” Stephanie tensed as he approached. “I’m going to touch you and show you how to aim. Please, don’t freak out.” His chest pressed against her back. This close, his cologne, a delicate lime and tobacco scent tickled her nostrils. “Keep your cue level but aim low of center.” She changed her point of aim slightly. Out of her sight, his fingers ghosted over her hip. “There, you got it. Hit it medium-hard.” Stephanie struck the cue ball as instructed. It slid forward and tapped the nine-ball, which rolled into the pocket. At the same time, the cue rolled back and lined her up for a shot on the twelve.

Excited about making a difficult shot, Stephanie allowed her guard to drop. She stood, grinning, and found herself in Daniel’s arms, one of his hands curved around her hip.

She tipped her head back and met his eyes. “Daniel, please don’t be a creep.”

His eyes flicked away, and Stephanie thought he’d behave. But he glanced back, his jaw set with determination.

In a rough voice, he said, “I read the papers your father sent. Is it true you’ll fall in love with whoever you sleep with?”

“It’s not love.”

“How do you know? The spec sheet said you’ve never...”

She had enough. Remembering her mother’s advice, Stephanie reached back and removed his hand from her butt. Daniel resisted, so she used her full strength.

Eyes wide, Daniel took a step back, his left hand cradled the right.

Mom will be proud I didn’t break any bones.

Stephanie set the pool stick on the table and returned to her seat across the room. An hour or so later, the parents returned and found her there. Daniel kept himself occupied on the opposite side of the library, shooting pool one-handed.

Back at the hotel, Gene announced he had phone calls to make. “Both of you get a shower or something.”

Inside the shower stall, Stephanie studied the marks on her mother’s pale skin. “Are you all right? Wait, “she said, inspecting the bruises on her mother’s chest, “those look like teeth marks.”

“I think they are. Mr. Smith gave the girls a workout.”

“Mom! He hurt you. Why didn’t Gene do something?

“Sweetie, sometimes sex can be a little rough. Tonight, was one of the rougher times. Don’t worry about me, it takes a lot to hurt genies like us.” Mom chuckled, “Poor Gene sat there and watched the whole thing. I think he learned a few things.”

“What about your bond, and how could Gene just sit there and watch?”

Mom hugged her. “Sweetie, my bond might as well be etched in stone. One or two sessions like tonight won’t change me. You, however, are almost a blank slate. It might have damaged you. Turn around now, and I’ll wash your hair.”

That night, Gene behaved like a man possessed. He barely waited until Stephanie had the pillow over her head before taking her mother. It took a long time before she managed to sleep.

“Dad, are you sure this is a good idea?” Daniel steadied the Stolichnaya with his good hand. His father set the funnel and poured a double measure of a clear, odorless liquid into the vodka. As usual, Dad ignored his concerns.

The older man capped the bottle with care. Then after giving it a swirl, he returned the bottle to a small bar. “Mr. Smith” turned to Daniel with a sneer. “Sometimes, I wonder if you’re really my son.” He held his eyes on Daniel, “Do you want an evening with the mother or not?

“I’d prefer the daughter.”

“Heh, yeah. If the father’s correct, and she’s still cherry.” Dad poured a finger’s worth of bourbon and sat. “I received the results from the lab. The data in the information packet checks out. From a DNA standpoint, they are exactly what Timms’ says they are.”

“They look like sisters. “ “Yes, they do. How old do you think the mother is?”

“Hell, Dad, she looks eighteen, but she has to be thirty or so.”

“The mother is forty years old. She’s had four daughters and is still so tight, it almost hurt.”

“Damn, now I can’t wait to check her out.”

“You will. Now, the plan. First, the vodka,” Dad waved towards the collection of bottles. “A drink or two will loosen up Timms and make him nice and relaxed. During supper, you’ll be very forward with the mother. Get her hot, and it’ll distract him. When it’s time, I’ll tell you to take her elsewhere. Timms will follow, and it’ll be up to you to put on a show. Keep him interested. I’ll get to know the daughter and find out if she is really untouched.”

“Do you think she is?”

“Hardly. Kids start early. I expect she’s had her share. Later, after the “enhanced” vodka has done its work, I’ll renegotiate for a realistic price.

Like the previous night, they met the Smiths for drinks. This time, both Smiths were on edge, a tension existed that hadn’t before. The Smiths literally sat on the edges of their seats. Stephanie and her mother shared a concerned glance. Gene didn’t seem to notice anything and allowed the senior Smith to keep his glass full. When the housekeeper announced dinner, Gene stumbled twice on his way to the dining room.

Striding to the head of the table, Mr. Smith said, “Tonight, the daughter will be my dinner companion.” He held a chair out. After a quick nod from her mother, Stephanie took the indicated seat.

Gene sat to Stephanie’s right, but most of his attention lay on Daniel and Mom. Smith’s son and her mother sat together near the opposite end of the table. Stephanie kept her eyes down; she didn’t want eye contact with Mr. Smith at all.

Halfway through the first course. Mr. Smith spoke to her. “It’s fascinating how alike you are to your mother. Of course, I saw a great deal more of your mother than I have of you. I admit I’m curious if you’ll enjoy the same sex games as she.”

Stephanie didn’t, couldn’t reply. Even if she did, what would she say?

Her silence must have annoyed the man because he spoke to Gene. “Mr. Timms, please instruct your daughter to respond.”

The table jerked as Gene pulled his attention away from the opposite end of the table. Stephanie dared a peek. Daniel had something going on under the table. Both he and Mom had rosy cheeks and unfocused eyes.

Gene gripped her upper arm, tight enough to hurt. “I asked you to behave, didn’t I?” He leaned closer. “Do you want your mother hurt because you won’t play nice?

Glancing again towards the foot of the table, Stephanie noticed her mother’s rhythmic shudders. Those shudders came in time with the motions of Daniel’s shoulder.

With a shudder of her own, Stephanie turned to Mr. Smith. She forced herself to look up and smile. “What do you want to know?” she asked.

Smith nodded his thanks to Gene, then focused on her. “Do you think the same as your mother?”

“Mr. Smith, Mom and I look a lot alike. We even like the same things, but we’re two different people.”

“Fair enough,” he said, then paused to watch his son’s activities. Mom whimpered softly. The hunger in Smith’s eyes spoke volumes when he turned back. “Tell me how you and your beautiful mother are different.”

Stephanie didn’t dare check again on her mother. She didn’t want to see whatever Daniel did to her. Instead, she kept her eyes on the older man and concentrated on his question. She already knew one answer. The two men Mom didn’t hate, Jason and Jason’s father, she merely distrusted. Stephanie, who hadn’t had her mother’s experiences, liked one special young man.

Unbidden, the memory came of Jason confessing his true feelings. Looking back from tonight’s perspective, she’d been selfish. What would it have hurt to tell him she felt the same? Love was just a word. What if they never saw each other again?