Chapter 21: Friday's Aftermath and Party Preparations

Mary Nally was lolling in bed, Teddy on one side and Stick on her other. Both boys were in recovery; after a none-too-exciting breakfast of cereal, sweet buns, and coffee, she'd demanded equal time from Stick, kneeling up and taking his long shaft doggy-style in the bed. And she'd been deliberately loud about it -- so loud that Stick had waved Teddy over from where he was watching and tugging that fireplug cock of his and told him, "Put that thing in her mouth an' see if you can get her to pipe down!" Stick knew what was going on, but DAMN! He didn't want her Mama freaking out and going after them all with a knife or a gun or something! She was a BIG bitch, an' might get through his guard, especially if he was tryin' to protect Mary or Ted...

Mary had cum twice before Stick flooded her womb -- he was right there, after all, his length being what it was -- and Teddy had poured a load of HIS spunk out in her mouth. It was a damned good time, and she was looking forward to more of them. Speaking of which... "Teddy, why don't you call Jimmy or Randall and see how last night went?"

"Okay." Teddy was generally docile, but with his balls emptied, he was positively loose. Stick watched him sidelong as Mary first directed him not to use his cell, but to get her portable, then put it on speaker. 'Boy needs someone around to keep him from bein' run right over, ' he ruminated to himself.

"Hullo?" the phone spouted.

"Jimmy? Teddy. Hey, how did the Astronomy Club orgy go?"

"I'm thinking pretty well, even if the other two couldn't seem to figure out what they were to each other this morning," Jimmy replied.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I mean they fucked like minks in the dark last night, having a helluva time, but this morning, they couldn't seem to get comfortable. Both of 'em were, like, trying to turn back the clock, or something..."

"Really? That's weird..." Mary announced herself.

"Mary?"

"Yeah, you're on speaker, but there ain't nobody here but us chickens..." Mary glanced at Stick, who merely grinned. What they didn't know...

"Well," Teddy hazarded, "Neither of them has ever dated. Boyfriend- girlfriend stuff is probably pretty new..."

"They're both in the brain trust, too," Mary added thoughtfully. They know the difference between just sex and a relationship, even if they've only scored one, to date..."

"Ummm, yeah, that's it, I think," Jimmy replied. "Sex went well, but they're both suspicious of their feelings..."

"Well, just because it hasn't worked yet doesn't mean it won't -- give 'em time," Mary grunted. Jimmy hadn't had that problem with Amy; in the first place, he'd been smitten with her, anyway, and in the second, Amy went into the relationship looking for permanence, not a one-nighter. Randall and Darla Jean, however, were largely looking for a way to scratch their individual itches; add the fact that they were both too smart for their own good, and you got a rather strange post-sexual trauma...

"Well, we accomplished what we set out to do -- Teddy was free to party, and Randall and Darla Jean got laid. Nobody bats a thousand..." Jimmy posited. They talked a few moments more about this and that and hung up.

Mary eyed Teddy. "I suppose I'm gonna have to bunk down in that cave sometime..." Teddy nodded, and Mary continued, "Although what the Astronomy Club will think of Stick..." Teddy slapped his forehead and swiped his hand down his face while Stick laughed. What a mess THAT would be!

The boys cleared out soon after; both lingered long enough to take a shower, Stick for the luxury of it, and Teddy because if she smelled sex on him, his mother would freak... Mary showered after, then wandered downstairs, well pleased with herself. Her mother glared at her, but Pop had her sit at the table. "Hon, there's trouble on the horizon."

"Why?"

"Those two are going to hit a wall somewhere and out themselves; even with you helping them, they're just too different. Without a clear reason, neither of their groups of friends is going to accept the other, and something as simple as a look will blow the whole thing wide open. The light will come on in someone's head, and they won't NEED evidence. What are you going to do then?"

"I dunno, Pop. What will it change?"

"Depends. Teddy's friends would probably roll over, but Stick's? And no amount of denial will help him..."

"What should I do? Bust it up?"

"You can protect Stick by choosing him -- everything would return to normal and die down. But all three of you convinced me this morning that you have something else cooking. When the time comes, it won't be Teddy that needs support -- it'll be Stick, and he'll need it BAD. There are a lot of gay black men, but it goes against the image that straight black males want fostered -- that their sexuality will bring them eventual superiority over whites -- and he will be shunned, ostracized, unless he has some seriously fine friends. Even then, the average member of his peer group won't want anything to do with him. If that happens, the two of you will have to step up to the plate and take over the bulk of his attention and social interaction. The two of you could well end up being his whole world for a time; you and Teddy need to plan for it, or plan to sweep this whole thing under the rug. It's your call."

"Wow." Mary was floored. "How long do you figure we've got?"

"I don't know. Stick is already assuming the role as Teddy's protector -- he could find himself in an untenable position any day."

"Well, the whole thing is simple!" Irma announced, "You don't want that b--..." She shut up; father and daughter were presenting a united front -- glaring at her.

Arthur, returning his attention to his daughter, asked, "Where do YOU think they are?"

Mary sighed. "Teddy is at least bi, and could drift to gay if he has no reason not to. That's where he was headed until Prom night. He's discovered that he likes girls, but I don't know how deep it is. He's VERY submissive, probably what some people call a bottom. Heck, he might even go TV..."

"TV?" Irma blurted. "Television?"

"Transvestite," Arthur amplified. "He might decide he's a woman in a man's body." Irma rolled her eyes and slapped her forehead. Arthur just gazed at her. The woman was eminently practical in most frames of reference, but she was absolutely horrid where this subject was concerned. Given the way things were shaping up for Mary, that could be the worst possible thing... "And Stick?"

"Stick just likes sex. He would make it on a straight diet of heterosexual sex, but he doesn't have any problem getting it from a guy -- especially if the guy is a bottom, like Teddy!" She chuckled. "Apparently, he made some comment about dressing Teddy up as a girl at their first meeting..."

"Really?" Irma was aghast.

"Well, they didn't really SEE one another, I guess..."

"What?"

"Irma," Arthur interjected, "have you ever heard of a glory hole?"

"Well, yes, but I don't really know what one is..."

Arthur sighed. He wasn't sure he wanted to proceed with this bit of education; if Irma put two and two together... Ah, well... "A glory hole is a way to obtain anonymous sex. It's a hole in a partition, usually in a public bathroom. A male sticks his penis through the hole and gets either a blowjob, or possibly vaginal or anal sex, depending upon who is on the other side and what their wants or needs are. You don't see the person because you're working through a small hole..."

"Oh, my!" Irma was shocked. "That sounds... dangerous!"

"Well, it undoubtedly isn't safe, given the spread of HIV. It's generally believed that HIV can't be passed by a blowjob, so the vast majority of participants are safe -- but that's merely supposition..."

Irma gathered herself, "So either one of these boys..."

Arthur cut her off. "Both are young and inexperienced, and indicate that their only partners have been each other and Mary."

"Either of them could be lying..."

"If that were true, I'd bet on it being Teddy..." Arthur posited.

That wasn't what Irma wanted to hear; you could tell by the look on her face. Mary opened up with, "I don't think Teddy has much experience at all, except in giving blowjobs -- even then, it wouldn't be many. I don't think he has anything...

"If he does, you're ALL in trouble," Arthur noted, "but I agree with you; I imagine Teddy's experience would be limited and anecdotal. We can always get him tested..."

"What about the black boy?" Irma demanded.

Arthur and Mary exchanged glances. "Stick wouldn't normally be exposed to homosexual activity; he may have had a girl..." Arthur began.

Mary shook her head no. "Stick admitted to a couple of blowjobs by Beulah Tyrone, who trolls worse than I do -- but when he came out of the Men's Room that night, homosexual sex was a new idea with him. Neither of them had ever had a girl, the right way -- or even come close. If Beulah didn't give Stick anything, and Teddy didn't, he's clean."

"So you're telling me that the black boy is your best choice?" Queers, blacks -- what was the world coming to? Irma was radically unhappy.

"No, Mother -- my BEST choice is to keep them BOTH!"

"You CAN'T DO THAT!" Irma screeched.

"Well, there might be a way or two. Nothing perfectly legal, of course..." Arthur remarked.

"How?" Irma glared.

"She marries one... The other is, oh, an employee, or a permanent houseguest..."

"This is just... insane!" Irma shook her head. "Which one?"

Arthur's smile told her she wouldn't like the answer. "Stick. Teddy occupies a subordinate position." Mary nodded, musing.

"But I don't WANT any little black sambos!" Irma wailed.

"Mother," Mary ranted, "If and when I have children, I'LL pick the father! Besides, probably only half of them will be mixed..."

"Oh, Lord!" Irma got up and walked out. Mary was DETERMINED to be a slut for a couple of... queers! It all made no sense; she refused to have anything to do with it!

Arthur watched her go, shaking his head. "This will take a while -- maybe longer than you've got..."

"I'll talk to them, remind them to be careful and not go too far covering for one another. And I'll talk to Teddy and try to get him to understand... Right now, he probably figures he's the only one with a problem..."

Arthur nodded. "The three of you have to be SURE, because you'll ALL be tested. This isn't a perfect world..."

"I know, Pop." Mary got up and headed for the door, then stopped and turned. "Pop? You know too much."

Arthur hung his head. "Yeah. Not here, okay?"

"Okay." Mary headed upstairs.

Darla Jean felt wonderful -- but she wasn't sure what she wanted to do about it. Sex with Randall had been all it was cracked up to be, and more -- but whether that implied anything about Randall was an open question. Randall seemed to feel the same way; certainly, he'd been nice enough, and hadn't made like an asshole, but he hadn't exactly pressed her for a relationship, either. Was that okay? She couldn't decide. These days, what they had done, treated the way they seemed to be treating it (recreational sex), made her some kind of slut; HIV had pushed everyone back up the slope toward monogamy and morality popular three or four decades ago -- maybe five! The current rule of thumb was 'Don't fuck a boy unless you plan to press for a relationship -- or already have one.' ONLY STD's allowed that kind of gold digging to make any sense in Darla Jean's mind -- why sell yourself a pig in a poke? That seemed REALLY stupid... The RIGHT way to do it, in her mind, was to experience SEVERAL men, and then make a reasoned selection based upon their individual merits, which might or might not include their sexual prowess. Randall actually had several things going for him, even without sex; if it turned out that he REALLY WAS a stud, he'd be a catch. But Darla Jean had NO IDEA whether Randall really WAS a stud or not... For now, she merely basked in the glow of her new womanhood. Next time, she'd use some kind of birth control; playing the lottery like they had done was out of character for BOTH of them, and it told Darla Jean that there were powerful forces at work -- as if she didn't know that already. Oh well, no harm done...

Darla Jean was the hottest REAL piece of ass Randall had ever heard of, never mind HAD -- but she was the ONLY piece he'd ever had, and that wasn't anything resembling a statistical sample. Jimmy seemed to agree that she was a wild woman, from the noises they'd made and Randall's description of their encounter, but what did it all mean? Did he have a 'magic wand' or was she 'just' firecracker hot? One thing he DIDN'T believe was that they were 'normal' -- he'd heard too many tales of 'dead' lays and guys who got off too quick. If they were normal, it was the high end of the range... Darla Jean had good sense (usually) and made a good lab partner; she tended to be level-headed and didn't jump to conclusions based on a too-small dataset. All this was highly admirable -- but did he love her? Based on a couple of bouts of hot sex? Randall shied away from such foolishness. Only an idiot would make such a leap! If Darla Jean wanted to date, well fine. But undying affection? Uh uh. Commitment wasn't something you hopped into like that.

All of which brought Randall back to what he considered the major fuck-up that they'd committed last night -- they hadn't used birth control! This just didn't sound like Darla Jean! Fool that he was, he allowed himself to get swept up in the whole thing, but he'd tried -- and she'd vetoed it! Now that just wasn't smart! Was this an entrapment technique? It made little sense, otherwise; sure, doing it the first time with a rubber would have sucked, but it would have been the safe thing to do -- and Darla Jean was NOTHING if not safe and sane, normally...

But she'd been cool and there had been no mention of any going together -- if she was going to reel him in, she was being pretty coy about it...

Each of them took home the knowledge of their newfound sexuality, dealing with it separately.

Saturday afternoon rolled into Saturday night pretty quietly. Nate, anticipating having Nora in his home at some time in the next forty-eight hours, was feverishly trying to clean the place, something that Tabitha was getting some wry humor from as she strode out the door to go to work. The good news was that this had been a pretty good week, and Friday night had started a pretty good weekend, so she was looking forward to an after-hours party at a club downtown where the good stuff tended to flow fairly cheaply. She didn't really LIKE a couple of the jerks that ran the place, but she didn't like some johns, either, and that didn't keep her from spreading her legs... Good shit was good shit, so if she had to make nice to have a good time, fuck it. Nate would probably prefer that she didn't puke all over the house tomorrow, anyway -- shit, he was in the BATHROOM, cleaning!

Nate watched his Mama hit the street with some relief; she seemed not to have the ass, and she'd mumbled something about a party. Usually, partying into Sunday morning meant she'd be comin' down Sunday night and be fairly stable on Monday, which was cool. Eventually, Nora would see her either fucked up or suffering, but if the first meet came while she was in pretty good shape, it'd no doubt help. In the meantime, he got some peace and quiet and a chance to clean out the trash... Nora had called about going to the movies, Sunday afternoon; she said something about her Daddy footing the bill. Was that usual? Nate didn't know. Didn't feel right, though... Nora said something about her Daddy saying it would be convenient for her to be out during that period -- Nate guessed that changed things... He'd push out his homework, so that if Nora wanted him to hang around (his mind shied away from alternative expressions like 'needed a little service' or 'wanted a sperm injection' -- shit like that could lose you your woman if the wrong ears got a hold of it), he'd be able to. Somehow, somewhere, Nate was gonna have to find a way to bring in some money to take out his rich girlfriend on; money, in and of itself, might break their relationship, instead of the more obvious problem of race.

Draper was home, keeping his head down. His brothers hadn't really noticed that he was out with anyone, so he was avoiding being ribbed. The flip side was that he was recovering from a day at the Porter's, which had seriously challenged him. Tenisha's Daddy wasn't thrilled about him doin' Tenisha at home -- although her Mama, who seemed to have things mostly in hand, said it was a lot better than anything else they were gonna put together -- and she'd been pretty clear about it. Tenisha's little brother, on the other hand, seemed Hell-bent to embarrass the shit out of Draper, and did a pretty good fuckin' job...

Bess summed it up after Draper left: "Big as he is, that boy ain't any too brave. If you're gonna keep him, 'Nisha, the rest of us are gonna have to lay off!" This last was accompanied by a roundhouse glare at the male half of the Porter clan. "Is there anywhere else you two can get any privacy?" Tenisha shook her head sadly. "Then we'll just have to make sure he understands that he's welcome. Right 'Lonzo?"

"Oh, all right," Alonzo grumbled, looking away.

"And YOU, young man! We're ALL AWARE of what's going on! We don't need YOU to tell us!"

"Yes'm." When Momma got going, you didn't make yourself a target. Butter wouldn't melt in Jimmy's mouth, if you believed his expression...

Armand and Jason had a looooong talk about the incident at lunch; Jason left the interview very clear on the fact that Armand believed that he had a useable chink in Jason's armor. But Armand's last words to him were, "I don't know whether to be really angry, or thank you for the entertainment she's giving me. We'll see how long and how hard she fights... Speaking of which, she needs an object lesson. Get on the horn to Witherspoon -- I'm going to need a couple of his people. And send Ed to me..."

"You sent for me, Sir?" Ed entered Armand's study carefully. The Boss could go either way; he didn't remember anything he'd screwed up, but he'd been thinking about finding a way to tap Inez...

"I want to send you over to my ex-wife's house tomorrow," Armand announced. "She tore up a couple of rooms, looking for surveillance equipment; I want you to fix it."

"Okay."

"I'm going to be sending a couple of men with you to... entertain Sharon. I'll be watching, but you'll be my man on the ground, supervising, making certain that things don't get out of hand."

"Entertain? As in..."

"Fuck." Armand settled back in his chair, eyeing Ed. "Sharon's sexual experience thus far has been limited to me; recently, she's announced an interest in broadening it, although it was more academic than anything else. I want her to move here, so it suits my purposes to have her home invaded and get the living daylights screwed out of her without her consent. Do you have a problem with that?"

Ed gave it a moment's thought. "No, Boss."

Armand sat a moment, pensive. "That brings me to you. I'm of two minds about having you do her. The other two are disposable -- Witherspoon's people -- but you're a member of my household. Eventually, Sharon will be the uncrowned mistress of this household; if I let you do her, it could lead to future embarrassment and a requirement that I separate you from your position here. On the other hand, to keep her from putting on airs, I may consider the idea of having all of the male staff take a run at her at some point. You see the issue, I'm sure..."

"Yeah," Ed nodded, frowning. "I could end up fuckin' myself..."

Armand nodded. "On the other hand, it might ultimately be a non- issue. But I'll be unable to make assurances, even if I grant you permission. In the worst case, however, there would be no prejudice involved and I would assist in ensuring that your next posting was a pleasant and lucrative one." He sat forward. "The other thing would be that if you DID do her, assuming that it was more than a one-time event COULD get you into trouble. I'm sure you understand..."

"Yeah," Ed agreed. "She's yours. Doin' her once wouldn't make her mine..."

Armand nodded. "Just exactly. Like any other female in this house, her favors are ultimately under MY control. Sharon, in fact, is a special case, due to our relationship -- for one thing, she's the mother of my daughter. ANY approach without specific permission from me would end up in your dismissal with extreme prejudice."

Ed didn't need that spelled out. "Safe thing is to keep my hands off."

"True. But I'm unwilling to rule out all possibility of contact. I'd like to see her checked for air-tightness, if all goes well -- which takes three men."

Ed chuckled at this. "Neat."

"I can send along another resource, or I can use you..."

"Okay, Boss, I'll try not to get stupid."

"If you change your mind, I can probably fill in from Witherspoon's team, so don't feel obligated. Use the surveillance system to get a look at the damage she's done. Jump off is at two p.m.; I'm going to have one of Witherspoon's people cut off the water about one-thirty to give you an excuse to be there and get things started. Don't forget to turn it back on before you leave."

"Right."

"Jason will help you get a look at the damage. There's some grout work in the shower, and she tore up the bedroom walls looking for cameras."

"I'll have to duck 'em?"

"To a certain extent. Take a laptop and Jason can help you to pinpoint areas where you'll have to be delicate. Normally, there are fiber- optic lens extenders that can be extruded or retracted, but generally operate flush with the wall. We'll get Witherspoon's people to poke them out so you can work around them. Obviously, we'd prefer that they continue to operate undetected."

"Okay. Anything else?"

"I want Sharon used to exhaustion, but I don't want her damaged. In fact, I'd prefer that she ultimately enjoy it, but that's probably not anything you'll have to worry about working at, given her training," Armand chuckled. "Still, make certain everyone realizes that I don't want her dead or damaged, merely traumatized a bit. She'll absorb a certain amount of recreational violence, but they're not to break anything. Ideally, aside from some red marks from whatever discipline has to be used to keep her in line and some sore holes, she should be unharmed."

"How far do you want the rough stuff to go?" Ed was a bit worried over this.

"Witherspoon's men are pros -- they could probably take her without any serious violence -- but I want her to remember it as a violent episode, so we'll go beyond that. Slap her around a bit, but no face punching. Knock the wind out of her a couple of times early on to ensure she's docile and cooperative. Paddle her ass. I realize you don't spend much time in the playroom, so I'll provide a couple more hints: breasts can take a lot of abuse but provide a lot of pain, which makes them a fine target. A couple of good slaps to the breasts will get just about any woman's attention. Stay away from the kidneys and such, or anywhere bony -- punching around bones can injure both of you."

Armand paused. "Don't let her get a good look at you; I want a certain amount of plausible deniability. The others can get face time -- they won't be seen again, anyway. If you have further questions, talk to Jason or come back to me. I'll be watching via the surveillance system and recording the incident; once the infrastructure is in place, I'll be able to relay instructions, but I'd prefer to use IM, not voice. I'll be available by phone, if necessary. Any questions?"

"Not yet, but..."

"Don't guess; this is a priority mission. Ask me. I'll make myself available." Armand waved dismissal and Ed backed out. This was the damnedest deal he'd ever been in on...

The next couple of hours were pretty strange; Jason met Ed in the Media Room and they went over the surveillance of Sharon's bedroom and bath, getting an idea of what repairs would be needed. Jason showed Ed the computers that the others would be using and how to use IM to talk to Armand, effectively doubling Ed's computer literacy. About halfway through, Inez came in. Jason glanced up and grunted, "Kneel up, Slut," then proceeded to demonstrate various bits of violence that left little in the way of marks but dealt out extreme pain. Presented with an opportunity to punish Inez for her role in the day's events while the fire of his anger remained hot, Jason had deliberately gone to extremes, working her over systematically under the guise of instruction. He'd very thoroughly proven Armand's statements regarding the punishing of breast flesh true, punching and slapping them until Inez was fairly gibbering, then stopped her with a vicious punch that took her breath away. He taught Ed to slap on the cheek, avoiding the eyes, nose and ears to keep the visible damage to a minimum, then went from ass work to some other areas that were a lot more tender -- inner thighs, armpits, etc.

Then, when Inez thought the whole episode was thankfully over, he had Ed demonstrate HIS understanding of the techniques, sometimes correcting him and having him repeat a particular action. By the end of the session, Inez could barely crawl, even though she wasn't permanently damaged anywhere. Oddly, after they'd gone through the entire program, Jason grinned tightly and recommended, "I wouldn't do most of this to Sharon, though -- Armand will likely decide that you've gone too far fairly early. She needs to THINK she's getting her ass whipped, rather than actually GETTING it done, if you know what I mean..." He spurned Inez with his foot, "Crawl back to your quarters, Slut -- I'll be there to fuck you in a bit, and if it isn't good, I'll work you over AGAIN!" Ed shook his head; the little Mexican cunt took a lot of shit from the boss man! When she'd dragged herself out of the room, Jason observed, "This should have demonstrated to you the difference between pain and injury. At worst, she'll have a few bruises, but we used her body's own warning system to tell her she was thoroughly broken. There are times when your nerves can be used against you, and you're better off ignoring them. Remember that -- the knowledge will stand you in good stead." Ed nodded, and Jason walked out. After a moment, Ed followed, but first, he composed himself a bit. He'd never kicked a woman's ass before, and, frankly, he wondered if he was going to still like the guy he saw in the morning when he shaved after this incident... Ed ALSO decided to shelve his plans for coaxing a fuck out of that poor slut Inez, convinced that Jason would make him pay a whole lot more than it was worth for it if he caught him.

Meanwhile, Armand delivered instructions to Witherspoon. "I want two of your people who are experienced in direct intimidation to work on Sharon. They don't have to be exceedingly well hung, but they should have a certain prowess, because I want her used and I want it to last long enough that she enjoys it. Preferably, one of them should be black."

"Just one?"

"Yes. I'll be sending along my carpenter to do some repairs in her bedroom. One black is a distraction; two will just point him up, and I want him not to be recognized, if possible. I'm looking for plausible deniability -- to be able to claim that a competitor may have done it. While he's working, I want her thoroughly distracted and entertained -- you understand."

"Yessir."

"Have someone go in at 1:30 and shut her water off, outside. Once your people are inside, they can restore it. My man will arrive at about 2:30, and the three of them will pose as plumbers until they're inside the door, then your people take her and my man goes to work. I'll want it all on video; have your people take a laptop so we can talk about positions and angles and such. Have a third agent standing by; I may let my man get a piece of Sharon, and I may not, but I want a shot of all her holes being filled, so have your boys pace themselves for that. Use some limited violence -- I want her subdued and to take some pain, but not visibly marked or damaged, if possible. You understand?"

"I think so, Sir. Limits?"

"Hmmmm. Taunt her, abuse her, treat her like a whore. Use deliberate violence until she's pliant and to make sure she remains so. I'm sure some of your people are aware of some very painful but not too visible interrogation techniques..."

"Yessir."

"The scenario I'd like to paint is a break-in by a competitor. Your people can work from there -- interrogate her about things she knows nothing of, and torture her a bit over her poor answers -- that kind of thing. Make her wonder whether she's going to survive, if possible. Use her like she's disposable. I'll want a second team, led by Jason, to arrive just too late to catch your boys, enhancing the whole idea that it was an invasion. To a certain extent, therefore, things will need to be carefully choreographed -- understood?"

"Yessir."

"We'll probably not use these people anywhere that Sharon can detect them ever again; if you need to, bring in outside staff. But YOU are responsible, and I, through my man on site, have the last word on what's going on. If things go seriously awry, I'll want your scalp!"