Chapter 5

Rick was back in less than ten minutes with Mickey's cell. She read off the number and Rick transferred it to a separate device. This time, he merely led her to a small cabin and closed the door before telling the AI to make the connection.

"Hello?" The sound came out of nowhere on the AI channel.

Rick waved at Mickey, who responded, "Ms. McPherson?"

"Yes?"

Rick waved Mickey to silence. "Is this Ms. McPherson, the still fertile nursery school teacher?"

"Who is this?"

"C'mon, I told you enough just now that you know -- we met today," Rick chided.

"You're that Marine!" Ms. McPherson replied, then obviously confused, added, "What do you want?"

"I'm here to make you an offer you can't refuse," Rick replied. "Someone failed the psych exam and we have an open slot from the pickup that netted Ms. Rawlins. We can chase down a replacement the normal way, or I can cut the corner and take you."

"I ... see..." Janine McPherson licked dry lips and held the phone to her ear with a suddenly shaky hand. "What do I have to do?"

"What everyone else does, once things settle down," Rick replied, "but this is a one-time offer under special circumstances, so it comes with a premium."

"W--what kind of premium?"

"I won't be your sponsor," Rick told her, "we're filling a spot for a nice old fud of a research professor -- but I'm scalping the ticket. You're gonna pay me for the privilege."

Janine swallowed, trying to clear her dry throat. "What do you want?"

"Nothing you can't pay," Rick replied with a nasty chuckle, "naked."

"Oh." There didn't seem to be anything else to say but, "Why me?"

"I like loosening up stuffy women," Rick replied.

"What do I do?" Janine asked.

"Nobody else gets time to put their shit in order, so you don't, either," Rick told her. "Go to your closet and find something you can be out of in three seconds flat -- practice, if you have to, because I'll be timing you. Do you have flip-flops?"

"Yes."

"Wearing whatever you've picked out and flip-flops, go down to the corner -- the one with Jackson Street -- and stand there. Be alone. It's nineteen minutes of ten -- you be there at ten. If you're there, and if you show the proper attitude by following my instructions EXACTLY, you won't be going back to your house. Fuck up, though, and it'll be embarrassing."

"What are you going to... ?"

"You know what? It doesn't matter -- because if you get taken, you'll be doing as you're told, anyway, and what you think of as polite society won't have shit to do with it!" Rick cut her off. "This is a one-time deal -- take it or leave it. Eighteen minutes." He killed the connection with a hand signal.

"That was mean," Mickey accused.

"No, it wasn't," Rick argued. "Think about what you and the others did -- or could have done. I've been on pickups where a guy fucked three women and took one. I've been on pickups where sponsors started cat-fights and took the winner -- or the loser. She's getting a good deal here -- and a lot more warning than YOU got -- and she needs to have her nose rubbed in how fortunate she is to even get the offer!"

"Well..." Mickey grimaced.

"Take that Clark woman -- she pulled a train, and her sponsor almost didn't take her!" Rick reminded Mickey. "Anything I do to her on her own probably won't compete with being tested to see that she's airtight by a bunch of construction goons..." He pursed his lips. "What did you have to do for your sponsor? I forget..."

Mickey hung her head. "Not a lot."

"Did he even test-drive you?"

"No."

Rick shook his head. "You need to talk to some of the others, I think, before you decide what's mean. Go on back to your sponsor -- your piece of this is done." He waved her out the door. Mickey left, thoughtful.

Janine McPherson stood looking at her phone, surprised that the offensively rude Marine had hung up on her. He seemed to delight in shocking behavior and comments; rude, crude and socially unacceptable seemed to be descriptive. On the other hand, by all accounts, he was being brutally honest about the whole thing ... It all came down to the question, 'just how badly do I want to go?' The price of admission seemed steep -- but the benefits ... The media had some clips of the aliens -- the Swarm -- laying waste to other aliens with a fine disregard for the idea that they might be sentient beings. They only had people's word for the fact that any of the videos or other reports were real -- but if they weren't what kind of incredible scam could the Confederacy be running?

The clock didn't allow her to stop and think about things; if she did, she would miss the Marine's deadline -- and one thing was certain, he was deadly earnest about her following instructions! All the time she pondered the issue and her response, she was digging through drawers and flipping hangers -- what to wear? A sun dress? At ten p.m.? What made sense? She had a wraparound skirt somewhere ... Three seconds ... A look at her wristwatch left her frenzied -- it was ten minutes of ten already! Flip-flops -- where had she put them? There had to be something she could throw on -- and, apparently, throw off -- rapidly ... Time was running short; she would need a jacket against the cool of the evening ... Inspiration struck -- a raincoat! Eight minutes ... Naked, she dialed the school, getting the after- hours message. Pushing past to voicemail, she left a message for her boss, "Patricia? It's Janine. Unless I call back really embarrassed, I won't be in -- I'm being picked up by the Confederacy. Sorry about the notice, but at least you're getting some. Wish me luck! Bye!" When had she made the final decision, exactly? Did it matter? Janine threw on the raincoat and dashed out the front door, locking it behind her. Down the front steps to the sidewalk, turn right, walk to the corner -- and stand there, in a raincoat and flip-flops -- at ten p.m. What kind of idiot did she look like? If the police came by, she stood no chance at all of explaining what she was up to!

Her watch said it was ten o'clock -- and there was no Marine in sight. Was it all a practical joke? Maybe her watch was wrong ... Had she been late? Janine cracked open her cell phone; no, it was now ten oh one, but that meant that she'd arrived on time ... Surely he wasn't the kind of jerk who screwed with people's minds ... Where was he?

Rick was in orbit, watching Janine through the cameras of the drone that had placed the transport pad behind some bushes twenty feet away. He was watching to see if she'd followed instructions and come alone -- and yes, he was getting a kick out of watching her stew ... After watching her fidget for three full minutes, he stepped to the transport pad.

The flicker of light behind her made Janine turn around. "You're late!" she accused.

"No, I'm not," Rick replied calmly, "I never said I would be here at ten, I said YOU should! I could have waited another half-hour to see if you were serious, but you were looking too itchy to allow you to stand around that long."

"You're a bastard -- you know that?" Janine rasped angrily.

Rick pretended to be shocked, "Aw, gee, THAT's not polite ... Where are your manners?" He looked her up and down, leering. "Nice outfit. Does it meet spec?" He raised his watch. "Get out of it."

"Here?" Janine gasped.

"One..." Rick didn't look up.

Janine flinched and got going -- but didn't quite make it. "Four and a half seconds," Rick reported, when the coat puddle around her feet. "You probably would have made it except for being stupid on the front end -- want to go for best two out of three?"

Janine, who was covering her breasts with a forearm and her pubic fur with the other hand, stood there for a moment with her mouth open, looking around for witnesses. "We're going to get arrested!"

"Never gonna happen," Rick replied. "Do you want to try again, or do you want to go home because you failed to follow instructions? Your call..."

Janine stood looking at him for a good ten seconds, flabbergasted, then squatted and fumbled for the coat. "I'll try again," she muttered, pulling the coat around her, still squatting.

Rick let her stand again before cocking his head. "Do you do naked? You act like you've never been nude before. If you'd posed some way the first time, we probably wouldn't have to mess with this, but you're just not getting it, so this time, when you drop the coat, kick it away and stand with your fingers laced behind your head and your feet shoulder-length apart -- got it?"

Shock and outrage painted Janine's features. "You're kidding!"

"Nope," Rick replied, shaking his head. "This is about following instructions. Modesty is a waste of time -- yours AND mine. Your private parts aren't private any more -- they belong to your owner -- and, temporarily, to me. He's going to want to see them. Public nudity in new concubines is the norm. If I put a collar and leash on you and walk you through downtown, I want you to wiggle your butt!" He eyed his watch. "Ready?"

"You won't like..."

"Go!"

Janine dropped the coat -- and diffidently assumed the position. Rick eyed her. "The coat drop was fast, but you were slow getting into position. You've got a second and a half to make up, and that bought you maybe a quarter second. Next time, you need to snap to in just under two seconds, or we're done here." He ran his eyes up and down her. "I've seen worse -- in fact, you have no idea. Besides, what you look like on pickup has very little to do with how you'll look after a couple of weeks, anyway." He sighed theatrically, "I'm going to say this again, REAL SLOW so you get it. We sold Doc Bradley on you based upon your intelligence, but I haven't seen a whole lot of it yet. This is about obedience -- it's about following instructions. OF COURSE the instructions aren't simple shit -- well, actually, they have been, but they're in conflict with your bullshit standards for personal behavior -- what would telling you to scratch you nose show me about what you'll do when something hard to do comes along?" He sighed, more or less theatrically. "Put it back on and we'll go for three -- and THIS time, you'd better MOVE or we're done here!"

Eyeing Rick, Janine picked up her coat again and slid into it. Rick waited until she had settled into it and prompted, "Ready?"

"Ready."

"Go!"

Janine flipped the coat back so it slid down her arms and snapped into position as soon as the sleeves cleared her hands. Rick pursed his lips. "Just barely. I'm probably giving you the benefit of the doubt. That being the case, we'll have to keep testing." He stepped up and palmed a breast. "Don't break position, Honey. Remember, I own you. If I decide to whip out a needle and pierce your nipple, you'd better stand there and watch. This is all really simple -- you do as I say or I walk away. Do you like sex? Where's your CAP card?"

"It's in the right coat pocket," Janine replied.

"Stay there -- I'll get it." Rick knelt and fished for the card. "I asked you a question," he reminded her while he perused it, still squatting.

"I like sex," Janine admitted.

"But it's not a driving force in your life, I notice," Rick replied. But there were some interesting sub-scores there... "Maybe the approach has been all wrong. Are you wet?"

Embarrassed, Janine replied, "I ... might be."

"Hold still -- I'll check."

It was probably the hardest thing Janine had ever done in her life, leaving her hands locked behind her while a strange man slid a finger between her labia -- but somehow, she managed it -- in fact, she spread her stance a bit, without thinking. And if she hadn't been wet at the start, she certainly was by the time he finished! "You know," Rick mused, "some women like to put up a little resistance when they're approached sexually -- and a subset of those women -- the majority, actually -- want to lose. What do you think of that?"

"I..." Janine quivered inside. Did the card say that? Was EVERYTHING on there?

"Okay, moving right along..." Rick stood. "Next test: Get down, fish out my cock, and suck. And before you ask me stupid questions, yes, I'm serious!"

"All right." Janine knelt up and worked at Rick's fly. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

"You don't have to, Honey," Rick told her calmly. "You can just walk away. Frankly, you might be too cantankerous for Doc Bradley -- he's a gentle soul..."

It was just the right note for Rick to take; Janine, worried that she was being stupid and passing up what would eventually be an easy position, got serious about sucking Rick in an effort to show her willingness to please.

It was a big cock -- not two feet or anything, but plenty big enough to eclipse her ex-husband's. She wondered how far the big Marine was planning to go, and whether she was going to have to accommodate it -- and where. Well, she'd sucked cocks before -- maybe not often, but it wasn't a totally unfamiliar exercise.

Rick put his hand at the nape of her neck -- not forcing anything, but indicating that he wanted her going deep and backing off by gentle pressure. "Do you deep-throat?"

Janine, thoroughly involved in what she was doing, backed off only long enough to say, "No."

"The correct answer is 'not yet, '" Rick chided, but he didn't force her.

A car came by -- the first since they'd started. A young male voice erupted, "Woo Hoo!"

Rick waved with one hand while making sure Janine went nowhere with the other. "Suck. If the cops come, you keep sucking while we talk about you. I won't be arrested -- and you won't, either, if I don't kick you to the curb. Understand?"

"Mmph." Janine nodded, too. Rick took her in by the light of the street light. Janine wasn't bad for forty; the tits weren't defying gravity, but they weren't hanging to her waist, and they ran to a 'C' cup, he figured. She had love handles or saddlebags at the hips and some cellulite on her thighs, but they weren't terrible, and while her belly, bifurcated by the scar of a Caesarian section, displayed a little double pooch, it wasn't huge or anything. Her muddy brown hair displayed some reddish highlights, even in the bun or whatever it was she kept it in. "I'll drive," he told her, sliding a hand along either cheek, "Undo your hair." He didn't do anything stupid that might overbalance her while she reached up to undo the clip and pins holding it up. "Yeah, that's better," he approved, sliding his fingers through it and collecting some to hold her head by.

Another car came by, slowing. "Omigod!" a feminine voice erupted. "What on Earth are you doing?"

"Come on, lady!" Rick retorted, "You know what's going on! If you don't, maybe you should get out and come over here so she can give you lessons!"

"Is he hurting you? I'm calling the police!"