Chapter 213

“The enemy is anybody who’s going to get you killed, no matter which side he is on.”
—Joseph Heller, Catch-22

6 OCTOBER 2022

I’m still conflicted about the SSR. We left as ‘friends,’ for lack of a better word. Dana was pretty convincing when she kissed me last night and my wives all ganged up on me about her when we got to the motorhome. We’ll have to see how that all pans out in the future. And I’m still not sure about Paul. I think he’s holding back some secrets and may have been more involved than he lets on. But they do good work.

We’re headed to Detroit now. I guess there’s an RV park near The Henry Ford museum and Greenfield Village. With luck we can do some sightseeing there tomorrow. My memories of Detroit, though, aren’t all that good. In 1967, V1 worked on traffic signals and was sent to Detroit for training. People don’t realize that Detroit is home to hundreds of businesses related to the automotive industry, not just manufacturing cars. I was in Detroit working with a team to revamp traffic signal timing mechanisms on July 23, 1967 when the worst riots in a hundred years started. My V1 memories tell me Detroit is a dangerous place, burning, poverty-stricken, depressed, and to be avoided at all costs.

I know it’s different now, but it’s hard to shake off the feeling of dread that accompanies any mention of Detroit.

Ron considers the arrest of General Gerhardt and the normalization of the SSR to be the end of any direct threats to our tour. Lamar and Leah will continue to accompany us, but we won’t have half a dozen security people standing around the motorhome in the RV park or accompanying us wherever we go. That’s a relief. It was beginning to feel like we were prisoners under guard. Still, when I think of Detroit, I can’t help wishing there was an extra body or two between us and the world.

“Amanda, what is the current economic status of Detroit, Michigan? Please be brief,” I said as I sat with the little shit on the floor of the bus.

“Sure, Jacob,” came the mellow woman’s voice. Over the past several days, her tone had become more conversational. “Detroit has had a volatile economy for many years, dependent largely on the auto industry and a large base of blue collar labor. The twenty-teens saw an exodus of the predominantly African-American labor force from the city and left the metropolitan area depressed economically. Property values fell and an accompanying shift in the auto industry saw a decrease in jobs available.”

“Sounds depressing,” I said.

“The late twenty-teens and early twenty-twenties have seen a shift in the socio-economic environment begin. While unemployment has risen, so has population—a far more diverse population than previously inhabited the city.”

“What caused that?”

“Detroit has become a kind of magnet for young people leaving the service. With property values depressed, and the industry in flux, they see the city as a land of opportunity. Entire neighborhoods have shifted in composition to enclaves of displaced service veterans who no longer feel strong ties to the communities they grew up in and are searching for common ground with others who have experienced what they have in National Service. Sociologist Dr. Herman Mann has posited that this trend may be seen in other depressed areas of the country, including both small towns and inner city neighborhoods, as the number of service veterans without jobs increases.”

“Thank you, Amanda. That was very informative.”

“Most of this information was retrieved from Wikipedia and could have been accessed on your tablet,” she said. Damn it! I never intended to start considering her ‘she’ instead of ‘it.’ She was a search engine. My wives, gathered around to listen as the bus trundled through northern Ohio, laughed at Amanda’s subtle dig. I’d been attempting to customize my messages a little more toward the market where we performed. Pittsburgh and Columbus had been highly successful but I wasn’t sure how to address the audience in Detroit.

“Rachel, are we going to have another cavernous room with thousands of noisy attendees in Detroit like we had in Columbus?” I asked.

“Oh, do I have information that Amanda doesn’t have?” she primped a little and I gave her puppy-dog eyes. Beca gave me a shove toward her.

“Am I spending too much time with my toy?” I asked as I scooted close to my love.

“It is a little like having added another wife to the family,” Rachel said. “You always want to stick your dick in the new one.”

“Oh, come on. She’s a search engine.”

“I’m rattling your cage,” Rachel said. “I just wish we could all use her. Any progress on that, Joan?”

“Daddy says this is a training stage for the interface. They intentionally limited input to one source—Jacob—so they could monitor the development. He’ll meet with us in Chicago to go over some of the finer aspects of tuning the interface.”

“You can all access her functions through the tablet interface,” I said. “It’s only the voice interface that is locked down.”

“She. Her. You see, she is another wife,” Brittany sighed. “And we all remember how hard it was to get one-on-one time with you once Cindy opened her legs. You were always between them.”

“Hey! I didn’t try to monopolize him,” Cindy squeaked. Even her mock-offended voice was soft. She could speak up on stage when her turn to talk came, but she’d never developed a louder voice among the family.

“It’s just natural development of a relationship,” Beca said. “Once we found we were all welcome to make you scream, everything returned to normal.”

“You can make me scream anytime,” Cindy sighed.

“Um ... Is there an answer to my question about the venue, Rachel? Or should I pass the question on to Amanda?”

“Oh, hush. The answer comes with a cost. Take your pants off.” I looked at her in surprise as she started stripping. Sophie reached over to unbuckle my belt and start tugging at my trousers. Making love on the bus wasn’t unheard of, but even though our driver couldn’t see us, she could certainly hear it when someone had an orgasm.

“Anything for you, love,” I said. Just for good measure, I pulled off my T-shirt as well. Sophie had sucked my cock up to full attention while I watched Rachel strip. It didn’t take that much encouragement. Rachel straddled me and sank her treasure chest onto my cock with a sigh. I caught a nipple on her way down and tongued it enthusiastically until she pushed me back and kissed me. Rachel had a way of just keeping me hard and in her while we talked. Having our eleven other wives with us as she rode me just enhanced the effect.

“The Detroit Music House is a smaller venue and more attuned to your style of music,” Rachel breathed while she rose and fell on my cock with her eyes locked on mine. “It only seats 1,750, but the farthest anyone is from the stage is seventy feet. By comparison to the Newport Music Hall, you’ll feel like you are doing one of the intimate concerts in Mr. LeBlanc’s music room.”

“Mmm. Good memories. I thought Jo was building this up to bigger and bigger audiences,” I panted. I started kissing her neck as she rose and fell on my cock again. She moaned.

“Yeah. She is. The live audience is only a piece of the action. Saturday’s performance will go out live on the National Service Cable Network and will be carried on the local Detroit TV station. But don’t be concerned about it, lover. You’ve performed in front of twenty million before.”

Twenty million? Oh, shit! I bounced up into my soulmate with enough force that she echoed the move up and down on my cock.

“Rachel,” I moaned. “Rachel, my love. Can we stop talking business and just be husband and wife for a few minutes?”

“Oh, lover, I am all yours,” she whispered as she closed in on me to kiss. Yes. All mine and the other eleven women’s who were surrounding us with their love. Naked love, as it soon became obvious there wasn’t a stitch of clothing on any of my lovers. I filled my hands with Rachel’s round butt, just to feel her rise and fall on my cock. We found our rhythm and each other’s eyes as we petted and fucked. Looking into her eyes as we made love always tripled the excitement for us. Mostly we managed to keep up the smooth steady rhythm, occasionally enhanced by a bump in the road that surprised us.

I could hear her breath coming in shorter gulps, feel her pussy clasping and releasing my cock, see her eyes as they filled with tears. We came, crashing together and sought each other’s lips, tongues, and souls.

“That is definitely some class A ass you have following you! Would I love to dip my dick in that one!”

“Excuse me?” I said. “You’re talking about my wives. Button it up, buster.”

“Oh, yeah. I heard you had a bunch of ‘em. Little overkill, I’d say, with so many of us incel. But if you’ve got the swinging donkey dick to handle them, why shouldn’t you have it? And I’ve got a solution for the rest of us, by God!”

“Who the hell are you?” I demanded. I knew, of course. I’d gotten thirty seconds’ warning as we entered Greenfield Village that a candidate was waiting to talk to me. He was about six inches shorter than me and fifty pounds heavier. He must have been really excited to meet me since from the smell he apparently didn’t take time to shower first.