Any resemblance between the content of this story or any of the characters depicted herein and real persons or events is highly unlikely and purely coincidental.

“What do you mean I can’t keep them?” Now I was getting pissed.

It all started a few hours ago. Granger’s was having its annual company picnic. Since about ten percent of the local population works there, and almost everyone else is related to someone that works there, well over half the town was in the park. Even in tough times, Mr. Granger paid for the whole thing, from his own pocket, not company entertainment money. If a few extra people showed up for the free eats, he had no problem with it. He always made sure that the kids that had limited family support were invited somehow. The schoolteachers were in on it, giving various awards throughout the school year that just happened to get the kids an official invite. The Confederacy says that he did not actually arrange the mass pickup, but he apparently gave them a pretty big hint somehow.

I should probably introduce myself. I’m Clint Hooper. I’m twenty-nine, single and I have a CAP score of 7.6. I worked for Granger’s. Heck, I owe my life to Mr. Granger, both figuratively and literally, but that’s getting ahead of myself. I got some scholarships and grants to college, a debate club award, a merit scholarship and a STEM grant from the college. I also got a company scholarship to college if I went for either a mechanical engineering degree or one for electrical engineering. I had to pay off with one year of working within fifty miles of town for each year of funding. Not necessarily at Granger’s, mind you. Just in the area. I got a job there anyway. I guess that you can tell that I have a bit of hero worship going on here. Hey, if the shoe fits. Granger’s made specialty machine tools and parts. We filled a pretty good niche, but the business was slowly changing and with the new Confederacy technologies, we were in danger of going under. My guess is that he set this all up to get his people out; his ‘people’ being the entire town, if possible. The schools had the little kids practicing some special sports and competitions. He announced a contest in those for the same day as the picnic. Cash prizes were offered, but you had to have an adult with you to collect. If that adult wasn’t the parent, they had to have a signed paper, which just happened to give that adult custody in certain situations, including ... Oh! You guessed.

Anyway, there we were. Nearly three thousand adults and who knows how many kids. Mr. Granger stepped up on the bandstand and thanked everyone for coming. Then he announced that the Marines had landed and we were having a pick-up. We looked around and sure enough, Marines. Interdiction fields went up around the entire park. There was what I am told was an entire company of Marines there, one hundred fifty four counting the Navy corpsmen. That’s medics for you army types. Mr. Granger stayed on the bandstand and kept things calm. He used the PA system to say we should be a bit discreet because of all the kids. Things were being set up for locations to get to know strangers in an intimate fashion. That didn’t last long, but it was a nice thought.

I’m single and my entire family is my older sister, Shelby, thirty-five now, my niece, Angel, thirteen, my nephews Max, ten, and Todd is five. Shelby got rid of the lump of alcohol soaked fat that her husband turned into. We do actually have another branch of the family. Our cousin Veronica is thirty-nine. She has a little girl as well. Brittany is thirteen too. Veronica looks just like the Veronica from the old Archie comics. Well, a thirty nine year old version. Long black hair, relatively slim, kind of stuck up looking but she really isn’t.

My first priority of course was to see if Shelby was going to have any problems with finding a ride off planet. I asked her and here is her answer, verbatim. “No problem, Clint. We’re going with you,” and then she took her clothes off.

Now you have to understand. I have had hard-ons over my big sister since I was twelve, at least. It took me almost eight years to realize that she had STAGED most of my ‘accidental’ looks at her. When she was seventeen and I was twelve, she would step into the hallway and bump into me. Her robe was mostly open so that I saw her bra and panties. On later occasions there was nothing under the robe. I would walk down the hall and her door would be open a bit. She would grab it open just as I was about to pass, stand there, hands on her hips, feet spread and say, “What were you looking at, brat?” She was nearly nude, of course. She would stare me down and dare me to look at her. Then she would slam the door in my face. I always heard strange noises after these incidents. Later I figured out that she had been masturbating over the incident. As I grew up, it was more of the fleeting glance as she streaked from bathroom to bedroom as I walked down the hall, or vice versa. Occasionally I would hear a quick, “forgot my robe!”

So, there I was. A not incredibly experienced guy with no current girl friend and my stacked sister is dropping to her knees in front of me. Now, she’s no supermodel, but she was better looking than many women her age. She had decent C-cups, sagging a bit from their weight and three kids, a nice ass, decent legs, and reddish gold hair. And she had one other thing. Angel. My thirteen-year-old niece, Angel, had tossed her top off and was getting rid of her bra. Shelby was unbuckling my belt and telling Angel what they were going to do. Did I mention that I tried to back up, but there was a table behind me and I was trapped? So I protested. I protested while my pants were being unfastened. I protested while they dropped to their knees. I protested when Shelby started a blowjob. And I blew my wad all over poor Angel when she took over for two licks. Angel promptly cleaned everything up, while Shelby complained that that was no way to train Angel, and did I really want some fat smelly, stranger being her (Angel’s) first, and didn’t I want her (Shelby), and she had wanted me to sleep with her since I turned fifteen, and didn’t I LIKE her and Angel and ... I folded. Well, Duh! As if I had EVER won an argument with Shelby.

“Ok! Ok! Ok! I’ll take you. (I swear I said that, but I did NOT sound like Joe Pesci in Lethal Weapon 3, or was that Lethal Weapon 2. At least, I hope I didn’t.)

So then I had a naked woman and a half naked girl hugging me. “Get dressed,” I said

“Are you ashamed of us?” By now Angel was down to her panties.

“Stop. Ok, Angel keeps the panties on. She’s only thirteen after all, not a concubine. Put your flip-flops back on and carry your undies and t-shirt. The sun is out. And bring that sunscreen. Angel, keep Mikie and Paula with you.”

We got collected and I took three steps when Shelby asks where I am going. Since I have no clue I say, “Over there,” pointing at a good-sized clump of people in the direction that I was moving.

“But Veronica is over here.” Five minutes later I am test-driving Veronica. My second cousin Brittany is helping. Veronica is riding cowgirl and Brit has a small breast shoved into my mouth. Well, that didn’t last long. This means, of course, that I didn’t last long. And then Brittany and Angel shared cleanup duties on me.

“Ok, do you have any other plans for me?” Silly me, of course they did. About now is when I got a card reader from the Marines. Shelby’s readout was a shock. Well she shouldn’t have been. She had a dominant streak, great parenting numbers and a REALLY high set of sex scores. She was lower in technical skills, physical aggression and other things. Her scores were all over the map, but she averaged out to a straight 5.0. Veronica was similar, but not as extreme, and she had a net 4.9.

So now we came to Shelby and Veronica’s friend Vanessa. This time I checked the card before I got raped. She had a 5.2, with lower intelligence than the other two, but most of the other things were higher. Well not the sex, that was just below Shelby’s. Vanessa was black, or more correctly, light brown with fine features and curly black hair. Tallish, and a medium build with less breasts than Shelby, but more than Veronica. Of course she had a thirteen-year-old girl as well. I stared at Shelby when they told me her age, but she just said, “They’re classmates. We met at PTSA.” I started in a missionary position this time, but I ended up with Vanessa’s ankles on my shoulders, plunging away for dear life. After the mandatory teenager cleanup from Jade, I decided to get up on my hind legs and stand up to the tyrant.

“Shelby, if you don’t mind, I want to find my own girl for the last one. No offense ladies. You are all great and I’m glad we got together.”

“Of course, Clint. You’re in charge, obviously.”

‘Yeah, right,’ I thought.

Then I saw a friend of mine from work. Karen was a cute little curly haired blonde thing of about twenty. She was petite, friendly, and I knew she was single, with NO KIDS. I walked over and got her attention. It makes a man feel proud in a circumstance like that when a very cute, very naked female takes one look at you, wearing just your sandals and boxer briefs, runs up to you, hugs you and says, “Clint! Oh thank goodness. Can I join your harem?”

“Sure, I just need to check your Card. Yup. You’re in. I need to have you right now, if you don’t mind.”

So, my roster was full. I pulled Karen down and made sure she tasted as good as she looked. As we got up, I heard her say, “Kids? We’re leaving.” She had one of those papers giving her custody of her brother’s kids. Luckily she didn’t have a thirteen-year-old girl. She had twelve-year-old twins. One boy, one girl and they were already stripping when I finished licking their aunt. At least the boy was looking at the other girls rather than me while he stripped.

“Stop. Twelve-year-olds stay dressed. Period. End of story. Spankings will ensue.”

Shelby was no help here. I heard her voice saying, “A spanking! A spanking!”

Then Veronica chimed in. “We shall ALL be spanked!” She had that accent down pat on the ‘all’.

I knew one of them would not disappoint. Yup. Vanessa threw in the kicker. “And then, The Oral Sex!”

Blasted Monty Python addicts. They should be banned. Well, at least the kids’ clothes went back on.

So, I had my Harem. I grumbled and groaned, but I figured it was a good group. I decided to head to the bandstand and thank Mr. Granger for all he had done for me.

When we arrived I noticed that there was a small transporter set up near the back of the bandstand. I had the girls form up near it so we could leave as soon as I talked to him. I had to check in with the Marines first. They asked me if I wanted the four women. I said I did, if I could take them and all of their children to the colony as well. The Marines said no problem and the AI used a nearby speaker to say <Acknowledged>. I found Mr. Granger with his own Harem. Funny, but I had never even thought that he might be a Volunteer. He had a 7.9 and got four Harem members, the same as I had. He had a couple of good-looking twenty somethings, and Mrs. Pelsham, who was his current admin assistant. She was also widely reputed to be his mistress. Everyone knew that they were close, and her husband had moved out of town ten years ago, but she had had two kids since then. However, it was Mr. Granger and so, the kids wanted for nothing. No one said a bad word about him or her. The surprising Harem member was Emily, his daughter. She was still fully dressed, as was Mrs. Pelsham. The twenty somethings were stripped and looked as if they had recently seen some action. I heard someone off to the side saying something about test-driving and both Samantha Pelsham and Emily Granger got the same smug little smiley look. Well, well, well!

I started my thank-yous and he was taking it as I had expected. Humble. ‘You’ve repaid it many times over’, etc.

I’ll never know exactly what he saw. Mr. Granger was a Vietnam War veteran. Ex Marine, but he always said there are no EX Marines. What I do know is his eyes widened as he looked past me and he yelled “GUN!!” as he shoved me into his daughter and to the ground. Then all hell broke loose.

The Marines were shooting and getting shot. One of the twenty somethings went down. I yelled, from the ground, to my girls. “Crawl to the portal.” Yeah, it’s not really a portal, but that’s what they’re calling them on TV and everyone knew what I meant. I shoved on Emily’s ass and pushed her towards the portal.

She cried out “Daddy’s hurt.” I looked and he was down with blood on his face and chest. Lots of blood.

I got to him and he said one sentence. I could barely understand it, due to the jaw damage, and the blood pouring from his mouth “Clint, take care of my girls.”

From someplace, I heard the words <Acknowledged.> Then he died. Oh, we grabbed him and rushed through the transporter and they got him to the medical systems in less than a minute, but the hit on his face did too much damage to the brain. He stroked out and there was just too much brain damage too fast.

The after-action report that I saw, said that some Earth Firsters had found out about or suspected the pickup. They had pre-planted some weapons in the park toilets, in a couple of trees, under the merry go round, etc. Everywhere except on their people. The drones were monitoring people as they arrived and the only weapons were on police and other people that were deemed safe. They had all been quietly disarmed in the very beginning. Things got pretty far along pickup-wise, because it took a while for several of the bad guys to get in position. They all drew at once. other bad guys scrambled to get weapons and they joined in. Thirty bad guys. In the end, all were dead or captured. There were over seventy friendly casualties, including two dead Marines, seventeen dead volunteers, and several dead concubines. A homemade pipe bomb killed or wounded two dozen, including one four year old. The bad guys had been gunning for the volunteers. The drone replay of the bandstand showed that Mr. Granger had shoved me out of the direct line of fire and that shot was the one that killed him.

The Marines had mounted some stingers on the drones and one of the naval types piloting it had just sprayed everybody in the park, so the Marines quickly controlled the field. They got all of the remaining EFs and after an AI interrogation, they were all fertilizer. The wounded were patched up. Harems were sorted out and the incident was over. Over, yeah, right!

After all the excitement of trying to save him, and the heartbreak of learning that he was gone, we were all sitting there, comforting Emily, her kids and Mrs. Pelsham, Samantha, with her kids. The twenty something was Jennifer, and she was shaken up, but she didn’t have the heavy emotional investment of the other two. Holly had died on the bandstand, but none of us really knew her. Mr. Granger, we all knew.

“What about us?” Samantha asked the Marine that had helped with Mr. Granger.

“You three and all of your kids belong to Mr. Hooper now. Your Sponsor Willed them to him.”

“Say WHAT?” I said, eloquently. Three more? And uhm, five more kids?

<Actually, you are currently over the limit and you will have to find other options for three of them within forty-six hours and twenty-seven minutes.> Since that voice came from the Marine’s collar, I figured it for the AI.

There happened to be several Marines in here with minor wounds. They were waiting for medical pods to open up. There was a low growling sound from several of them. I looked, but it seemed to be addressed to someone other than me. Some of them were looking up at the ceiling.

“Ok, wait. Explain this to me. How did I get them in the first place?”

The helpful Marine obliged. “Granger had his Harem assigned, fair and square. We had already talked to him and as a U. S. Marine Corps combat vet; he was locked in to a NCO slot as soon as he finished Boot Camp. When he went down, he specified that you should take his harem. Actually, his girls, was the term he used. But that’s the same term we use. With a witness, that qualifies as a legal Will in the Confederacy. The AI verbally acknowledged that Will and by doing so, transferred them to you. Now, one problem is that there is limited room on the transports so there are reasonably strict limits placed on the harem sizes. There is some flex but usually it is only one extra in special situations. Once you are on the colony you can theoretically have more. Even numbers like fifty or more. You are allowed four. You currently have seven. The reason that we are all so grumpy is that we figure you helped make the pickup on him, umm, the med-evac pickup that is. That is solidly within our traditions. And you aren’t trying to get over; you just inherited. Wills are supposed to be binding.”

“Ok, AI. So that’s why I have seven. What justification do you have for taking them away from me?”

<You have too many, you can’t keep them.>

“What do you mean I can’t keep them?” Now I was getting pissed. “Give me a reason.”

<There are limits and rules. You are in violation of the limit.>

About then, one of the Marines jumped up swearing like a trucker. Since he had a minor bullet wound in his arm, I figured that he had just bumped it. Nope.