Chapter 12

The orientation was interesting enough, as was sitting next to Margret in it, thinking that scant hours ago, she was going to be just a concubine, and this would have been about teaching me how to handle her and the others. Now, it was about teaching me, her, and others like us how to control our conks. I couldn’t help but look at her with a wink and smile, which she returned to me, clearly thinking that she was once set to be a target of these techniques, and now she would get to use them on others.

It was manipulative, sure, what they taught us, but it was necessary. A sponsor, regardless of sex, regardless of previous relationships, HAD to be in charge of the household, period. Otherwise, it was chaos and anarchy, hardly a good idea in a large, extended family situation. It didn’t matter if he or she was your boss, wife, husband, sister, mother, etc. If he or she was your concubine now, it was for his or her own good to be brought to heel, to be put firmly in his or her place. The alternative was brutal and far worse than even slavery: recycling, a painful, terrifying execution that took place while one was conscious, too. Seeing the replay of the execution of Phyllis Parker (see Taking Deliveries by Thinking Horndog) from a previous pickup in another place told me everything that I needed to know, as if it did for others.

“Oh, dear!” Margret told me as we exited the orientation for the Civil Service pool, preparing to select our last concubines, “We really DO need to keep them in line, don’t we? We can’t risk that happening to them, can we?”

“Yeah, no kidding! I’m so glad that you were obviously going to be well-behaved if you hadn’t been promoted to sponsor. I’m also quite glad that this never happened to you. To think how close you came to it... , “ I shivered as we reached the CS offices and were directed to the holding cells for the concubine pool.

“We have the newest ones, of course, if you prefer, though we’d rather you at least considered the ones who’ve been here longest. If they don’t get selected soon, they’ll have to be recycled, of course,” Centurion Thomas Wilde informed us, his expression one of rather intense impatience.

I got the impression that he was always like that ... that must suck to be under his thumb constantly ... Poor conks, I thought, and wasn’t sure if I pitied his personal harem more or the pathetic souls stuck in his concubine pool. Perhaps the CAP system should screen better for such flaws as impatience, too, or at least the Civil Service should kick such folks back to the more combatant services, I wondered. I suspected that he was a rather flawed choice to be heading such a bureau, but the Civil Service was a beggar as always, and so couldn’t be choosy.

“Let’s see them all, so I can choose well,” I said, and Wilde snorted like a pig for a second while he took the concubines out into a common area.

That was when I noticed her. Damn it, she had to be there! My ex-girlfriend, Lisa, with whom my falling out had been very unpleasant. She looked like a million bucks, of course, having already been modified to be an exaggerated version of her old self. She had chestnut hair, hazel eyes, full breasts, and a rather large booty. I hadn’t seen her since high school, when we broke up after she cheated on me during the prom and I took my revenge by banging her twin sister Michelle at the very same prom.

No, they were not identical twins, they were fraternal, so I knew exactly which sister had slept with Jimmy Malone that night and which one didn’t. I can’t say that I was too shocked by the way that Michelle handled it, or Lisa, for that matter. Lisa confronted her and me, slapped both of us, but Michelle slapped her back and told her that she deserved this, and that I deserved some strange. Lisa denied cheating, but I called her, and then she confessed that Jimmy was such a popular guy that she had trouble resisting him.

“Don’t, then, but don’t expect me to hang on faithfully and pathetically, like a whipped cur, while you give out your favors to your other boyfriend. I only agreed to go steady because you asked me, and then you couldn’t even keep to your own moral standards! Some preacher’s daughter you are!” I stormed off, Michelle following me after flipping Lisa off, and that was that.

Michelle and I dated for a little bit between the prom and summer break, but she never acted jealous, which was very unlike Lisa. She even lured me into a couple of threesomes with her best girlfriends, a different social circle than Lisa’s, of course. We found it awkward in the same community, avoiding Lisa and everything, and soon there was pressure from the family to break it off. Michelle and I went to separate colleges before I dropped out of mine and joined the Navy. I finished school while in the service, and we never met again. I corresponded with her a little, but never with Lisa, and I never went back to that same old town again.

“Jack?” Lisa looked at me with utter shock, “is that you?”

“Of course, it’s me. Jack Martin. Your high school sweetheart, until, well, we both know what happened, don’t we?” I confronted her again.

“Yes, I cheated on you, and then you took the worst revenge that you could. I guess fidelity’s a moot point now, isn’t it? I promise ... if you claim me, I’ll be much better this time around. Please, please, claim me!” Lisa pleaded with me.

“How close is Lisa to the point of execution?” I asked Wilde.

“Lisa Malone is slated for recycling in exactly seven hours. She really is a desperate charity case, so the Confederacy would be very grateful if you took her on,” he told me.

“Then I’ll take her,” Margret shocked me.

“Why you?” I asked her.

“Because you’re a nice guy, most of the time, but she looks like the sort to eat nice guys for lunch. On the other hand, you clearly want to fuck her, maybe as a grudge thing, and she obviously aches to be fucked. If I control her, then she doesn’t know me as well and can’t manipulate me. Plus, the Confederacy will owe me another one, won’t it? And she’ll be seriously in my debt. Turn her over to me, Centurion. This one’s mine,” Margret insisted.

“As you wish. AI, confirm and register, please,” Wilde urged the AI.

“Recorded. Lisa Malone is now a concubine of Margret Dubsky,” the AI responded, while a visibly relieved Lisa walked up behind Margret and kept giving me lovey-dovey eyes.

“One down, three to go,” Wilde commented, but this time I agreed ... I was as impatient to get my conks back to my pod as he was to unload them, “You’re both Civil Service yourselves, I hear, so I’m going to be your trainer. Understand this. I come across as a cranky, irritable man, and I am, but too much kindness will kill you in this business. You’ve got to be a hardass with these conks, or they’ll ride roughshot over you. Be tough. Be hard. It’s the only way to do it.”