The Devil You Know
Copyright© 2021 by Col. Jack Harrison
Chapter 11
Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 11 - A young man in a future, postwar America discovers as he showers that the ladies of his family want him in the worst way and would rather service him than a stranger.
Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Mult Slavery BiSexual Post Apocalypse Sharing Incest Mother Son Brother Sister DomSub MaleDom Rough Spanking Group Sex Harem Orgy Polygamy/Polyamory Swinging Analingus Oral Sex Pregnancy Squirting
5:27 PM local time
Uncle Cameron’s Fish and Chips
“Hey, Tara,” I acknowledged my high school crush as she sat with us at the rather excellent seafood eatery.
“Hey, Jack. It’s good to see you again. Good call on the meeting place, too. I love seafood, even if it’s harder to get seafood from outside Florida’s coasts these days. Good thing that we have two coasts, not one, and plenty of local options. The crab cakes are especially nice!” Tara greeted me as I surprised her with a kiss to her hand.
“Yeah, well, I’m partial to seafood myself. It might be why I don’t mind certain acts as much as some other guys. I’d apologize for being crass or crude, especially with such an elegant young lady, but you’re about to join the harem. That is my understanding of the situation. Hence why I can speak so frankly with you, but also why I kissed your hand. The kiss is meant to signal to everyone present that you’re mine and they shouldn’t try to poach you.
“Make no mistake of what kind of arrangement you’re entering here. It’s a life of sexual servitude, something that my other concubines already made peace with, as you can see. I don’t want there to be any kind of confusion here. Are you confident, certain even, that you want this? If not, go back to your old man or find somewhere else to be. I don’t want to be harsh. I want you to be with me, but I won’t lie to you. I also can’t take anyone into my house that isn’t one of my concubines, part of my harem. I don’t want anyone undercutting my authority,” I now stipulated.
It might sound more romantic or Hallmarky or Hollywood to grant an unconditional place in my household for someone, whatever she did or felt about me, but I wasn’t made like that. I didn’t roll that way. There could be plenty of men and women who didn’t have to obey me, but I refused to live in a house where I wasn’t the master anymore. Dylan had his turn as the boss. Now it was my turn. I would be in charge, in command of my home, and let other folks do what they pleased, but only elsewhere. I would never be ruled or subjected to another person’s will again, not in my own house.
“Oh, Jack, I’m quite happy to be your slut, if that’s what you’re saying. I’m well aware of the price of admission. I’ve always liked you that way. I just didn’t think that you were an acceptable mate for a proper Mormon girl. Well, I’m not a proper Mormon girl anymore. Or LDS or whatever the Church wants to call us anymore. I don’t care. I have lost any faith in that rubbish. It’s clear that the Church is corrupt and its latest ‘revelation’ about concubinage is proof that their decision to ditch polygamy was only an act of political convenience.