You Don't Need to Wave a Card... - Cover

You Don't Need to Wave a Card...

Copyright© 2011 by Thinking Horndog

Chapter 3

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 3 - Scott Harshman finally gets his CAP card -- but discovers that you don't have to wave the thing under someone's nose to get in trouble over being sponsor-grade! A Swarm Cycle story

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   Drunk/Drugged   Slavery   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   Space   Cheating   Light Bond   Harem   Interracial   Black Female   White Male   White Female   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Pregnancy   Cream Pie   Exhibitionism   BBW   Body Modification   Military  

"Scott?" Rachel's voice was tentative. "I didn't get all that..."

"Okay, Honey, Bun," I told her. "The gentleman just made me an offer and I accepted and I've moved up in the world. What that means to you is less clear, and sort of depends upon perception. You might have moved up, or down -- or sideways. I accepted a position and the benefit to me is that I go from 'maybe someday you'll be picked up, ' to 'you're already a sponsor and we'll be leaving you here for a certain time with a job to do, but then you'll go to the stars.' How am I doing so far?" I asked the Civil Service guy.

"Decent," he shrugged.

"What that means to you is that I can make you my concubine right now, but I'm not leaving Earth for a week or so. If you say yes..."

"Yes!"

"Wait..." I cautioned. "What I'm going to be doing is dangerous -- like early this evening was dangerous. I can probably place you on a nice safe ship in orbit while I do what I'm doing, but then we'll be apart until I'm done." The Civil Service guy nodded. "Or we've been talking about tuning me up physically so I can avoid danger better -- and the option to do that is available to you, too, if I want it. But you could STILL get killed hanging out with me, just as I could STILL get killed despite my experience and the additional tools. The up-side for you is that you'll be with me and you get to see your family for a few more days, but the down-side is that you and they will be in more danger than you would be if I just parked you on a ship -- assuming that you WANT to be my concubine."

Rachel smiled impishly. "Do I get a collar and leash or something?"

"That can be arranged," the Civil Service guy chuckled. "You realize that all of the standard pickup rules apply, Young Lady. You will be his property, whether you are on Earth or not."

Rachel whirled on me. "I'm real good with this, Sweetie! REAL good!"

"Okay, well, before I lock you down, I'm going to give you one final choice, Honey Bun. Do you want to wait for me on a nice, safe ship, or do you want to parade around with me down here, knowing I'll have a bullseye painted on me somewhere for the next week or so?"

"Would I be helping?" Rachel asked.

"Parading around in nothing but a collar and leash?" The Civil Service guy chuckled. "Yeah, you would light him up like a blue light special!" He rubbed his face. "I don't know if I would recommend that."

"I'll do it! I want to stay with you!" Rachel reached up and clung to my neck.

"Okay, how formal do we have to get..." I asked. "Does 'Rachel, will you be my concubine' do?"

"Does 'Yes?' do?" Rachel added.

"That's fine," the Civil Service guy agreed.

"Okay. Rachel, will you..."

"Yes!"

" ... be my..." I struggled on.

"Yes!"

" ... concubine?"

"Yes!"

"I think we have it," the Civil Service guy carped, rolling his eyes. "Come on, we'll take you out the way we came in..." He led off, and I held Rachel's hand as we threaded our way to an otherwise empty office with a transport pad in it. The guy turned to Rachel and gave her the eye and I said, "Come out of the dress, Honey Bun."

"Okay." The yellow sundress hit the floor without fanfare. I could tell the guy wasn't thrilled, but Rachel looked fine to me! Was she a swimsuit model? Hardly. Her figure wasn't any hourglass, although she wasn't pear-shaped, either. She was a little wide and a little thick and things kind of went from her shoulders to her hips with only minor bulges. She had a bit of a belly, but it wasn't huge and it didn't sag or anything -- it just bulged enough to deeply indent her navel. Her ass just missed being blocky by being a touch rounded. Her titties weren't huge, but they were a good handful and displayed themselves well -- rounded cones that swung out to the side a bit when not pressed together by a bra. Nipples the size of an eraser stuck out from brown areolas about the size of a fifty-cent piece. She was thick and rounded, but not roly-poly. Take a chubby, smiling, baby-fat ten year old and size her up and stick titties on her and you have Rachel. Her smile was a little nervous until I grinned back and held out my hand, at which point it lit up the room until we stepped onto the transporter pad and left it.


There was a flurry of activity on arrival -- we went straight to Medical and got tubed, Rachel first. The tech was surprised when he displayed Rachel in 3-D and I said, "No visible changes. Scars or broken bones or whatever, but I like her as she is. I want her senses sharpened a bit and her reaction time reduced as much as makes sense. If she has any obvious weak spots, work on that. I know, she looks a little like a guinea pig -- but she's cute and I don't think she would be AS cute if she got seriously messed with."

The tech shrugged and popped his eyes, but an AI announced itself by saying, "The subject's musculature is well-adapted to the enhancements requested. Despite the fact that she does not appear to fit the norm for requested specifications, the subject's muscular and skeletal systems are robust and her body fat percentage is less than the visuals suggest." The tech shrugged and started programming the tube.

"You get similar," the Civil Service guy, whom I gathered from context when others addressed him was a Decurion, told me. "No huge Marine makeover -- we'll just sharpen you up and strengthen you and shove knowledge inside your head for you to sort out later. We're shooting for dropping you back on the surface around one a.m."

I rolled my eyes. "Her folks are gonna LOVE that!"

"It's irrelevant at this point, isn't it?" the Decurion replied.

"Guess you're right," I agreed.

"In you go, Ensign," the Decurion said, waving. "I won't be here when you come out -- the AIs will see to it that you get a quick conference with your superiors on your way to get your equipment. This is a Navy operation -- I just happened to be the Confederacy rep on the ground. Diplomacy, you know..." I suppose that made him a politician? I didn't worry too much about it as I climbed into the tube -- and then I worried about nothing for a while...


Rachel seemed disposed to whine a bit when I came out. "You didn't change anything?"

I beckoned her with a crooked finger. "I got you a collar," I pointed out.

She fingered it and dimpled. "I know, but..."

"I like you as you are," I told her. "I didn't want to change the essential you. You don't need to look like some magazine ad. Besides, we're going back where we were and changing you a lot might tip our hand."

"Okay." Rachel wasn't going to let it bother her.

"If there is something out there that you really don't like, we can discuss it at a later date," I added, "but I want to work with the original model first. As it is, you've been modified a bit internally to be stronger and faster and a little sharper in the hearing and sight departments. Now we need to leave..." I pointed at the way out, which was apparently being displayed by a HUD hooked up to my optic nerves. "As it is, your folks are gonna be LIVID!"


Thirty very busy minutes later, I was outfitted with money and a mission order and various small items of equipment in a case and Rachel was collecting her discarded sundress from the floor where she'd left it and donning it. The cops I was to team with had gone off-shift, so we went out to get in my car and Rachel directed me to her parent's place.

There was a light on, which sucked as far as I was concerned. If her Daddy was up, I might have to clock him, I figured ... Rachel opened the door and we let ourselves in.

Momma -- Faye -- was snoozing in a chair. She popped awake and eyed us, wiping her face to get it to work again after having fallen asleep. "It's late," she said, unnecessarily.

"Yes, Ma'am," I responded.

"You brought her home."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"There's something else, isn't there?" she asked, sitting up in the chair. "You aren't leaving, are you?"

"No, Ma'am."

"Roger isn't going to be thrilled."

"That's ... irrelevant," I said carefully. "The situation has changed -- quite a bit, actually. Won't he be pleased if she's picked up?"

Faye eyed me. "Well, more or less -- but he won't like the idea of Rachel giving herself to you based on the idea that you might get picked up someday..."

"You know," I replied, "I really don't think Rachel gives a damn what my CAP score is. On the other hand, the whole issue is irrelevant; you see, it's a done deal -- we just spent several hours in orbit. Rachel IS my concubine and she has ALREADY been picked up!"

Faye crossed her arms over her chest -- which led me to notice that it had some size to it. "Tell me another one! If that was true, BOTH of you would be gone!"

"Not if I'm on Earth on official Confederacy business!" I pointed out.

"What KIND of business?"

"Smoking out Earth First cells," I replied. "It's a temporary assignment -- VERY temporary -- and we'll probably be gone within the week, but I thought Rachel might like to spend that time with her family, even if you DID have to put up with me! We can certainly leave, though..."

"Can I pack a bag, Sweetie, or should I just plan to go naked?" Rachel piped up.

"Rachel!" Faye rasped.

"Momma!" Rachel snapped back. "Wake up, Momma! This is for real! You don't call me down any more -- you can ask Scott to, but he CERTAINLY doesn't have to listen to you!"

"You need to be able to prove this..."

<Interfacing with the family computer... > an AI announced on my internal channel.

"Where is your computer?" I asked.

"In the den..." Faye eyed me oddly.

"Lead me to it."

Poker-faced, Faye led me to the den. The machine was clearly powering up on its own, coming out of hibernation. After a moment, the screen lit with a Confederacy sigil. "Ensign Harshman is on Earth on temporary duty for the Confederacy, interacting with local law enforcement to identify and neutralize Earth First cells. This information is secret, but since the Ensign has already provided it, confirmation is possible. Should you desire to confirm this with a Confederacy representative, you may call this telephone number and be connected with a project officer at Moonbase." A telephone number flashed on the screen.

"And you are?" Faye asked.

"An AI," the computer replied. "Designations would be meaningless to you, but Ensign Harshman is directly linked to several AIs."

Faye pursed her lips. "Roger is still likely to flip out first and ask questions later..."

"The Ensign is armed," the AI declared. "You may wish to adjust your loyalties. Ensign, since you have acquired her offspring, you may want to examine the mother..."

"What was that?" Faye blurted.

"Which part?" I asked. "The part where it told you I can take care of myself, or the part where it reminded me that I have three concubine slots left and where Rachel is concerned the apple may not have fallen far from the tree?"

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