Chapter 7

"What the fuck?" Mike looked to Jolene for answers, since Linda had more or less erupted.

Jolene shrugged, but took over. "What's wrong, Baby?"

"This is... how I pay, right?" Linda whimpered. "Sex? With men?"

Mike blinked. Linda didn't like sex? That wasn't what her CAP card said... Then there was that other matter... "Men?"

Jolene ran with it. "Men? Your old man was pimpin' you out?"

"Michael... We were broke..." She nodded.

"A lot? More than once?" Jolene pressed. Linda nodded again.

Mike, who was by no means stupid, changed up. "Well, technically, you're here to produce children. You've already got Tommy -- and you said you were pregnant, right?"

Linda nodded.

"Do you know who the daddy is?" Jolene asked.

Linda shook her head no and tucked her face into Mike's shoulder.

"That really doesn't matter," Mike smoothed it over, "any more than who Tommy's dad is -- or, for that matter, Tyrone's, or Nishelle's or Broaddus'. I'm responsible. It might be nice if number six was mine, though..." He cuddled her against him. "As for men, there's me -- and that's about it. I know you haven't seen my good side..."

Jolene took it up, "He gets a little pissed when people give him shit -- which ain't unusual -- and he lets it bleed over some when he's mad -- that happens, too. But I figure he's probably an improvement over your old man, once you get to know him. Shit, he took on five kids at the drop of a hat!"

"Since you're pregnant, there's no urgency," Mike murmured.

"Yeah," Jolene agreed. "I ain't -- and I ain't had any in a while. I got this." She repositioned to suck Mike some more, since he'd gone somewhat lank in the interim.

"Really?" Linda's head popped up. "After...?"

"Baby, somebody has to be boss -- and it has to be Mike! I fucked up and forgot that -- or, actually, I needed to learn it. That shit needed doin' and it coulda been a LOT worse!" She flicked a glance at Mike. "He's a thinker -- other guys I've been with woulda hauled off and slapped the shit out of me -- and maybe that woulda worked, for a week or two, but eventually I woulda tried whackin' him back. What he did, though -- that was smart. Now I know he's got his shit together and I need to keep my head down."

"But the blow job?" Linda objected.

"I earned that," Jolene waved it off. "You didn't, maybe, but I did. If he was lookin' to get a nut, things woulda never gone like that, right Mike?"

"Right," Mike agreed. "That was kind of sorry-assed of me --- especially with you, Linda. I just..." He shrugged.

Jolene had the answer. "What he did to me in the living room worked -- but it wasn't personal enough. Mike hadn't got his mad out. Since he didn't kick the shit out of me, there was still some leftovers. Now we need to handle his OTHER problem..." She went back to sucking. "I got this -- why don't you feed him some milk or somethin'?"

"Or just cuddle," Mike offered, "I don't want to get into anything too wild until you settle down some and have a little confidence in me." Getting a fuck from Jolene would undoubtedly do the trick for him; he had every confidence that the sparky black woman knew all about fucking.

It was the right note to take. Linda was nothing if not trusting, in the first place. "Okay." She settled in and started rubbing his chest, watching Jolene suck. It was a vastly different blow job than the previous one; Jolene was working totally hands-off. Mike wasn't doing much but grunting and hissing in pleasure; one arm was under Linda, holding her against him, and the other was occupied not with guiding Jolene's head but with rubbing Linda's shoulder and upper arm.

The blow job was hot to watch; Jolene knew all about cock sucking. Mike was right, Linda decided, she needed lessons. When Mike gasped, "Jolene..." she got up and straddled him, rubbing her cock along her split, then settled on it, grunting, and started rising and falling on it. Mike gasped, "Yeah, fuck!" -- answering any question Linda had about whether he was enjoying it or not while Jolene pumped up and down on him, giving out whining grunts. Linda found herself getting aroused. "How is it?" Linda asked.

"Oh, it's good, Baby! It's REAL good! I've had bigger, but the really big ones don't get HARD like this! We got a good 'un!" Jolene panted, bouncing, her titties jouncing, the rings in her nipples catching the light. Some of Jolene's men -- Broaddus' daddy Leon, for instance -- had big fat dicks -- but they tended to flex. Maybe that was a good thing, since no woman was going to take in a foot of cock to the root anywhere but maybe up the ass -- but you couldn't rub 'em against your G-spot like Jolene was doing with THIS one. THIS one was fuckin' GREAT! It went all the way in to bonk her cervix, too -- just right for baby-making! "F--fuck! I been missin' out, stickin' to nigger dick!"

Linda was getting wet and needy. Her nipples crinkled up -- which made them drippy. Her left breast dribbled onto Mike's chest. "Sorry! Tommy didn't eat..." Linda had been breastfeeding all along -- they couldn't afford formula. With a couple of good meals in her, her production was up -- and Tommy had fed well in the afternoon, and hadn't been interested when they returned home, due to the hour. He'd sucked a little, but gone right to sleep, leaving Linda engorged. Diffidently, she suggested, "Maybe Jolene had the right idea..."

"Milk?" Mike asked. "I dunno..."

"Sucking tits isn't a distraction for most guys!" Jolene panted. "Shit, Baby, I LOVE this dick! Mama's gonna be so good to you..." She got this really intent look on her face, then gasped, "Ah, shit! I'm gonna cum! Awww SHIIIIT!" She bounced up and down like a crazed thing for a few moments, wailing, "SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!!" then stopped dead, puffing... "Gimme a second. Fuck, that was good!" Then she started rocking, and slowly got back to what she'd been doing before.

Mike didn't like the stop, but she started moving again almost immediately, so he let it go. Linda, who had stopped to watch Jolene orgasm, turned back to Mike, "Actually, it would be a help -- I'm pretty full..."

"Well, okay..." 'Breast milk? What if I don't like it?' Mike wondered to himself -- but Linda jacked herself up and rolled a bit and suddenly he had a nipple...

"If you chew it a little... Aaahh!" Mike got right with the program -- and Linda felt something that she felt with little Tommy -- but a lot more strongly. Her pussy clenched and got juicy! "Mmmmm! That's nice!"

Mike discovered he really couldn't have cared less about the taste -- it was fine, but it wasn't the hot part. The hot part was how Linda's nipple dribbled and oozed into his mouth in reaction to what he was doing, and how she seemed to be more and more anxious to feed him breast flesh! Linda started moving and in a moment, came out with an embarrassed, "I need to rub myself..."

Mike pushed her up off him. "Turn more to the side," he croaked. "Come at me sideways -- hands and knees..."

Linda did as she was asked, and Mike snaked a hand under her to the wet, thick lips of her gash. Her clit wasn't hard to find... "Oooohhh!" Linda moaned and shoved her nipple back at his mouth.

For the next couple of minutes, there was a lot of motion but not a lot of talk. Jolene resumed her whining grunts, Linda emitted the occasional soft, "Ooohh!" and Mike didn't SAY anything, but he sucked like a madman as the fuck got better and better...

Mike started taking an active part in the fuck -- hunching up from below into Jolene -- and that put things into the fast lane! It was everything he needed to hit his stride -- and when Jolene wailed, "Oh, Baby! Cum for mama, and let me die happy!" that pulled the pin on his climax! "HRRRRGH!" he grunted around Linda's nipple while he slammed up into Jolene from below and started spewing!

But Jolene had her own thing going! Mike had been poking her G-spot regularly -- especially once he started coming up from below -- and she was on the verge of a GIANT orgasm when Mike smashed up into her and let go! Linda, who'd been watching the black woman blankly, wrapped up in her own pleasure, saw Jolene's eyes roll up as she started shaking like a leaf! Jolene sucked in a huge breath and screamed, "WAAAAAAAAAAHHH!" and flooded the bedclothes and Mike's belly with her own juices as orgasm knocked her for a loop!

Jolene, wasted, flopped over and slid off Mike -- who, equally wasted, couldn't have cared less. But Linda hadn't finished...

Mike had stopped masturbating her -- and now, she was desperate! "P--please..." She switched breasts. "Please suck!"

Mike didn't mind -- it was pretty pleasant -- very comforting. He started on the new nipple without complaint. Linda rubbed her clit feverishly with three fingers, urgently seeking her release, "Oh! Oh! Oh! God! Oh!" Finally, she managed it, grunting and gasping.

"Next time, you oughta fuck him, Baby. He's damn good!" Jolene advised. "A LOT better than fingers!" She turned to Mike. "Baby, if I get stupid, you just threaten not to fuck me -- I'll be good!" She crawled up next to Mike. "Are you okay, Baby? You want anything else?"

"No," Mike sighed. "Come here, Linda. Do you feel better?"

"Yes. I'm fine." She snuggled up close. "Thank you."

"Let's all get some sleep," Mike suggested.

"You're wet," Jolene pointed out, "I squirted. Sorry about that, but DAMN..."

"I'll dry," Mike replied, chuckling.

Children tended to damp things. The Francke family had five: Four year old Lisa, eight year old Petra, and eighteen month old Tyler Gregory from Mickey and twelve year old Leah and ten year old Latoya from Tamara. Given the fact that Nikki and Vickie were both fifteen and not really adults in the minds of Mitch, Mickey, and Tamara, that pushed the number unofficially to seven, even though they were technically concubines and not offspring. Mitch discovered that he was in no hurry to bed either of his younger concubines -- and the older ones had their hands full.

Getting everyone settled wasn't all that easy; even given two levels, ten people in a pod was quite a few -- people had to double up. Concubines were two to a room -- Nikki and Vickie was an obvious pair, leaving Mickey and Tamara the second set of concubine quarters. Tyler got the nursery, which left three small rooms for the other four children. Surprisingly, it was Latoya Jackson and Petra Rawlins who decided to bunk in, giving little Lisa Rawlins and the older Leah Jackson their own rooms.

Tyler Gregory was initially rambunctious, then shifted to fussy -- then took a shine to Tamara, to Mickey's embarrassment. Tamara's response was, "As long as we can get him to bed..." Once he settled down a bit, that proved to be reasonably easy.

Mickey and Tamara came out of the nursery -- their last stop -- to find Mitch standing in the upstairs hallway. The subject really didn't need direct mention; all three of them knew what was up in the instant they laid eyes on one another. "I think it's me," Mickey declared after a moment.

Mitch rubbed his chin, "You've discussed it, then?"

"No, but Tamara has had sex today, and both Nikki and Vickie did the oral thing," Mickey replied. "I managed to skate..."

"Well," Mitch replied, "Nobody but Vickie has done anything directly for me, but I can see the logic. Tamara?"

The black woman shrugged. "I can wait."

"I don't seem to be generating much excitement," Mitch groused.

"It's not like that, "Mickey protested. "It's just been a long day. I'm happy to -- and God knows I owe you after what I've asked of you!"

"That'll do, I guess." Largely because of the children, Mitch had abstained from active fondling, even though his concubines had been operating nude. Now, as they turned for the grav lift, Mitch put his hand on Mickey's ass.

Mickey looked down at it, surprised. "It's pretty big," she recovered herself. Mickey had a distinct pear shape.

"Really? I just think of it as plush..." Mitch replied.

"Well, you'll want to shrink it down..."

"Not as much as you do, it sounds like," Mitch chuckled, clutching a handful.

"Well, it wasn't helping me at home..."

"This is home now," Mitch replied.

At what had been her home, Mickey's erstwhile husband, Brett, was settling in for his first evening without a wife and children. He'd been bored and unhappy and felt tied-down by Mickey and the kids, but getting a visit from the police -- who apparently had a special unit for the purpose -- at the office to tell him that they were no longer his responsibility had been a shock. Later, the principal of Petra's elementary school, Mr. Purvis, called to tell him that Mickey had left him a short message. He'd played it, and Brett realized that Mickey had probably been well aware of his dissatisfaction and had set her priorities in what was probably the best direction for all of them -- but it was still more than a little bit painful.

The good news? Obviously, they weren't dead or anything. It was more like she'd suddenly moved out, taking the girls. There would be no messy divorce, no alimony, no child support. Some other guy had all of that, having bought a pig in a poke. Brett hoped that whoever the guy was, he like his women hippy, because pregnancy had bequeathed Mickey a sizeable ass. The bad news had everything to do with regret -- had he really wanted out that bad? Love wasn't ALL gone, he was only now belatedly realizing. He used to kid himself that he kept Mickey around for the cooking and cleaning and laundry; well, now he had to replace THOSE functions, too... When had they had sex last? Three weeks ago? He hadn't been actively cheating with anyone, but he'd been operating under the impression that he COULD at any time -- and now he was going to have to act on that assumption, apparently. All in all, generally good news or not, it was a wrenching experience... He looked around their empty house and wondered what he was going to do with all that stuff...

Back in orbit, Mitch and Mickey were in the master suite of the Francke pod, slowly approaching sex as a pair of adults who knew little about one another but who now had time to learn. It was a different situation altogether from a pickup, where hurried tests of sexual compatibility were the norm...

"So, what do you like?" Mickey asked.

"I'll cop to being male," Mitch replied. "Just about anything."

"What should I do?"

"I don't know. I mean, I date -- but this isn't a date," Mitch mused. "The rules are different. If I'm dating and I want sex, I need to talk the girl out of it, usually after blowing a lot of money on her, trying to convince her that she's having a nice time with me -- and maybe I'm worth trying out, or she owes me something, at least. This seems more like marriage -- and I'm not really experienced at that. What would you do if you were feeling um, well, amorous, with your husband?"

Mickey, who had rolled up on her elbow to ask questions, frowned and drew diagrams on the sheet with her finger. "This isn't really marriage, either. The briefings are pretty clear -- you have the right to demand just about anything..."

Mitch frowned. "Okay... That's all well and good, but I don't think it's the way to start out, do you? I'd prefer to think you're, well, cooperating, rather than just..."

"Oh, I am!" Mickey replied, "but I don't want you to think -- you shouldn't have to ask, is what I guess I'm trying to say. That's more like marriage probably was about a century ago, but it hasn't been like that in my experience. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I know I'm obligated. You shouldn't have to tiptoe around -- if you want it, it's yours, you know?"

"Yeah, well, I guess I'm trying to say that I don't want you feeling like, 'Aw shit, here he comes again to paw me...' -- you know?"

Mickey quirked an eyebrow. "What if I like being pawed?"

"That puts a little different spin on things," Mitch admitted, grinning.

"Ill tell you what -- if I'm REALLY not into something, I'll find a way to let you know," Mickey smiled. "Then if you keep doing it, I can grouse and complain..." She pursed her lips. "Actually, that's about all I CAN do, isn't it, technically?"

"Yeah, well, hopefully, I won't discover that I just HAVE to have something that doesn't thrill you," Mitch grinned.

"Okay," Mickey nodded. "Since we sort of have ground rules now, why don't we explore a little bit?"

"Okay," Mitch leaned up to reach out to touch her. "About your ass -- did that bother you?"

"It surprised me," Mickey replied. "I'm not used to that kind of thing in public -- but it's not a problem; a lot of us are getting used to being naked in public, and being touched like that is a logical extension of that. I think it was more the fact that I don't consider my ass to be my best feature."

Mitch shrugged. "I don't consider it to be a problem."

"Really?"

"Really." Mitch ran his hand over an ass cheek, closing the distance between them to do so. "I like it. I might want to handle it a lot."

They started on mutual exploration -- not in the normal order of things. Kissing didn't start until Mitch had his middle finger inside Mickey and she had masturbated him to full erection -- and Mitch was initially a little embarrassed about it.

Mickey liked Mitch's cock -- it was hard and smooth and different than Brett's in that Brett had a considerable amount of foreskin and Mitch was circumcised. The size was probably about the same, but not having to hassle with the foreskin made Mitch's seem bigger, somehow.

Mickey had rounded breasts that sagged just enough to be clearly real and had flat spots at the areolas. They were a lot of fun to maul and the nipples perked up and the areolas wrinkled tightly as she became aroused. The nub of her clitoris got more and more prominent as she got seriously aroused and started to gasp and pant into his mouth.

Things had spun up slowly and a little strangely, but Mickey was there. "I want it!" she gasped in his ear as they finished a kiss. "Please!"

"Okay, roll on your back and..."

Mickey did as she was asked, maintaining her grip on Mitch's erection. In a moment, she was rubbing it between her labia, wetting it with her juices. Mitch adjusted his stance a bit, coming up on his elbows, and powered forward when she seated him in her entrance.

Brett had been uninterested in sex for a while, and while Mickey could go without, she'd been saving up arousal for a month. Mitch was new and interested and energetic -- and moving inside her! Yeah, this was going to work out... "Ahhh, nice!"

Mitch considered the fact that Mickey was several years older than he was a drawing card where sex was concerned. If he wanted an innocent young thing, he had two -- but if he wanted sex from a woman who arguably knew more than he did about it, Mickey and Tamara both filled the bill. Once she was hot, Mickey was no-nonsense; just as she'd described, there was no requirement to coddle her and be tentative; it was an experience Mitch had never had -- and it was VERY pleasant! She moaned and gasped and rubbed his ribs and humped up at him and made happy noises and the usual worries and concerns about whether she would be happy tomorrow or claim he'd forced her to do something she didn't want to were out the window. Mitch just plowed her, knowing from her reactions that it was the right thing to do.

Mitch's assessment of the situation was more or less dead on. Protestations that she wasn't that kind of a girl and the three date rule were long since behind Mickey. Mickey had been married for nearly a decade, and for her, sex was a pleasure that you sandwiched in between the demands of child-rearing and exhaustion -- and while the cast might have changed, she knew the play from numerous performances.

Arguably, it was sex without love -- but sex with Brett had been more about comfort than love for quite some time. At least it was new and different and they weren't just going through the motions...

Well, maybe they were -- but there were no complaints. It was strong, steady, pounding sex, that lasted maybe seven minutes -- long enough for Mickey to float through the tidal surge of orgasm twice, visibly, before Mitch grunted and crushed himself to her and gushed semen into her. It wasn't cataclysmic -- just good, very good, for both of them. And it was enough. Mitch collapsed atop her and she wrapped her arms and legs around him and it was time to sleep; they'd had their fill. Mitch KNEW she'd orgasmed -- and he'd orgasmed -- mission accomplished.... He drifted off, comfortable atop her -- and she drifted off using him as a blanket.

There was probably never any question who Kiran was going to sex their first night out; questions centered more around how he would handle it. Kiran himself gave the matter quite a bit of thought after the episode of virginity discovery. Apparently, he'd been guilty of stereotyping in selecting his women -- clearly, Kellie was a spoiled brat, but she missed the stereotype for 'blonde American chick' that Kiran held by some distance. Isobel might actually meet her stereotype -- the 'good Catholic girl' one -- but it wasn't what Kiran had expected of her given her approach and manner of dress.

Amita and Sharmila, on the other hand... Clearly, they had been fully Westernized -- and failed to meet his idealized standards for 'good Indian girls' for that reason. They were sullied -- and knew it.

Where did that leave him? The original plan had been to be brutal to the empty-headed little blonde slip in order to whip the Indian women into line -- and the Hispanic girl had been largely an afterthought -- an opportunity that had dropped into his lap. Events suggested that this was a foolish waste of valuable material, however. Certainly, he could do as he had planned -- but wreaking havoc on a virgin was a totally different proposition than doing so on a slut; abuses he'd more or less looked forward to heaping on Kellie seemed excessive. Of course, she WAS still an empty-headed blonde slip...

Kiran stopped drumming his fingers on the arm of the easy chair he was sitting in and sat up. "Slut! Sharmila! Attend me!"

All four of his women were gathered in the kitchen; Kellie dashed over with some alacrity, her knees thudding on the floor to Kiran's right when he motioned with his finger. Sharmila arrived less quickly, but before it seemed necessary to complain about it. Kiran addressed himself to Kellie, "What do you know of oral sex?"

"Um, what I learned this afternoon, Master." Kellie hadn't even finished that blow job -- they'd evacuated first.

"And anal sex?"

Kellie looked away, clearly worried. "Nothing, Master." This was probably going to suck; he was going to launch into another harangue about how utterly useless she was...

Instead, Kiran turned to Sharmila. "And you? What do you know of oral sex?" Sharmila looked furtive. "If I catch you lying..." Kiran warned.

"I have done it, Master," Sharmila admitted.

"Often? How many times?"

Sharmila hung her head. "Many. I had a relationship..."

Kiran waved it off. "How many men?"

Sharmila visibly conducted a count. "Perhaps ten, Master. Eight, at least."

"And one enjoyed your efforts enough to come back?" Kiran needled her. "How many came back a second time?"

Sharmila couldn't see anything good coming from this line of questioning, but she knew better than to lie. "Three, Master."

"A decent percentage," Kiran muttered. "And anal sex?"

Sharmila really didn't want to go there, so she hedged a bit. "None, Master."

"I think you're withholding something," Kiran grunted, "but we will pass on that for the moment. Amita!"

"Master?" Amita approached and inserted herself between the others.

"Are you experienced in anal sex?"

"Master?" Amita was clearly rocked. "No, Master."

"What about oral sex?"

"Yes, Master." Amita seemed unconcerned about what that did for her image.

"Often? Many men?"

"A few, Master," Amita replied calmly. "It is a simple way of avoiding regular sex with someone you discover is unworthy of it."

"Really..." Kiran eyed her. "I will bear THAT in mind..."

Amita blinked. "I meant no offense!"

"See that you avoid offending me in that manner," Kiran retorted. "In the meantime, how many men did you service in this manner more than once?"

"None, Master."

Kiran grunted. "So we have no objective method of determining the quality of your product. You may leave." He waved her off. Amita stood and returned to the kitchen area, confused and worried.

Kiran returned his attention to Sharmila -- but addressed the AI, "AI, can you detect truth or falsehood in a person's statements?"

"Relatively high-probability analysis is available based upon biometrics of specimens on file," the AI responded.

"Sharmila, is there anything you want to share with me before I ask the AI to analyze your answer regarding anal sex?" Kiran asked.

"Only fingers -- and toys!" Sharmila burst out.

"AI?"

"Truth."

"Very well," Kiran nodded. "You were reluctant to share that with us -- why?" he asked Sharmila.

"It's... nasty." Sharmila replied, clearly embarrassed.

"But is it pleasurable?" Kiran pressed.

"Sometimes." Sharmila ducked her head and looked away.

Kiran let his eyes sweep all of his women, "You will find that while the truth will not set you free, it WILL insulate you somewhat from my anger. I expect open and frank answers to my questions. AI, has there been any duplicity in the recent conversation from any of my concubines?"

"No," the AI responded. "Both the one called Sharmila and the one called Amita were unprepared to provide numeric estimates of their number of sexual partners, but neither of them withheld any data."

"Excellent." Kiran eyed Sharmila. "AI, are you familiar with an object called a butt plug?"

"Affirmative."

"Can the pod's replicator produce one?"

"Affirmative. Unpowered butt plugs in particular are simple objects made of a rubbery material. This is well within the parameters of the unit. However, it might be simpler to have one delivered via the supply port."

"You have a selection? What is the delivery time?"

"Twenty-three objects specifically referred to as butt plugs exist in the catalog," the AI responded, "Delivery time would be approximately ninety seconds." A holographic display of the twenty-three plugs appeared in the air before Kiran. Sharmila, dread apparent in her features, turned to look at them over her shoulder.

"That one." Kiran pointed out a pink item with a curly rubber representation of a pig's tail affixed to it. "Please show me the item in actual size." It appeared before him, rotating slowly; it was six inches long (not counting the tail), conical, with a maximum circumference of two and a half inches before the constriction that would soon hold it in place in Sharmila's sphincter. "Perfect. Deliver one, please."

Amita snorted in mirth -- a mistake. "Make that two," Kiran amended. Amita flinched.

"Lubricant is recommended," the AI intoned.

"Not required." Kiran shifted his attention to Kellie. "On second thought, please deliver some."

"Delivery in eighty-four of your seconds," the AI informed all and sundry.

"Amita, you may collect them," Kiran directed. Turning to Sharmila, he asked, "You understand the intended lesson?"

"Yes, Master."

"As for Amita's transgression -- you are sisters -- friends -- colleagues -- lovers. You are here to support and assist one another. The discomfort of one of you should not be an occasion for mirth on the part of the others." He looked to where Amita stood before the delivery port. "I trust that is understood."

"Yes, Master." Amita looked away, clearly unhappy at being chastised. Kiran pursed his lips; apparently, his problem child would NOT be Kellie... Turning his attention to the young blonde, he told her, "You will be giving up your virginity to me this evening. How does that make you feel?"

Given the lesson of Sharmila's fate, Kellie thought a moment and said, "Nervous. Scared. Worried... Scared to death, Master."

Kiran essayed a crooked smile. "There is nothing positive in that list -- but then, I have not given you any reason to expect anything but ill of me, have I?"

"Well..." Kellie shrugged, "No, Master."

Kiran settled back in his chair. "Tell me what you THOUGHT you were getting into when you approached me. Did you not know what was going on?"

Kellie grimaced. "I did -- but the rules didn't apply to me, Master. They never have. Anything I ever wanted, Daddy would find a way to get for me. I believed that you would understand my social value and would naturally treat me differently. I didn't understand."

"Do you understand now?" Kiran asked.

"I think so, Master -- but I might still make mistakes." Kellie looked rueful. "Old habits die hard."

Kiran nodded. "We all make mistakes. I made a mistake in collecting you, believing from my preconceptions and a moment's contact that you were even more jaded than you are. I may have made a mistake in not collecting your companion -- but that is another tale." He waved his hand before her. "This is done. You are no longer handicapped in my eyes by your race and your hair color and your early foolishness. You are as the others -- no more, but no less. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master!" The future assumed a much brighter aspect than it had a moment before.

"We cannot repair your mistake -- I cannot and will not return you to the care of your father. However, we can move on," Kiran told her. "I value the gift that you will be presenting me with tonight. It will be received with proper ceremony, not torn from you. I hope this eases your mind somewhat and allows you to look forward to it with less fear." He turned to regard Amita, "Have they arrived?"

"Yes, Master."

"Bring them to me."

Amita brought over the two butt plugs and the tube of lubricant, inserting herself again between Kellie and Sharmila to present them. Kiran waved her away and repositioned Kellie by pointing to the left side of the chair, then told Sharmila, "Turn to your right and raise your ass."

Sharmila, fearing the worst, did as she was told. Kiran did not lubricate the plug -- but neither did he jam it into her. Instead, he was conversational while he toyed with her anus, probing it, then backing off, then probing it again. "So, you enjoy anal sex play?"

"Sometimes," Sharmila admitted, tensely. "When it is not painful."

"And you've had fingers and toys, is that right? What kinds of toys?" Kiran asked.

"Small ones," Sharmila croaked. "Vibrators..."

"You need to relax," Kiran chided. "You know that it will help if you do. I do not plan to jam this in."

"I..." Sharmila took a breath. "Thank you, Master. Knowing that helps." She began to visibly work at relaxation. Kiran switched hands so he could rub her clitoris and labia with his right hand while continuing to tease her anus with the butt plug held in his left. "Does this help?"

Sharmila gasped softly, "Yes, Master. That helps."

The process went on for several minutes. Kellie watched avidly as Kiran slowly got Sharmila to accept more and more of the plug, sliding it deeper and deeper, but always halting before the discomfort became too great. Sharmila cooperated, enjoying the masturbation visibly, moaning softly, fidgeting, and shifting a bit from time to time -- but not impeding Kiran in any way. Finally, they were as close as Kiran felt they were going to get, so he forced the plug past Sharmila's resisting anal ring so that it seated with only the curly pig tail showing. Sharmila limited herself to a quiet groan. "Crawl around and position yourself on my right," Kiran directed. "Do not expel the plug!" Sharmila did as she was told. Kiran turned and addressed Amita, "Come here."

Amita settled before Kiran, positioning herself as Sharmila had -- but Kiran had a surprise for her. Handing her the plug, he snapped, "Since you have no regard for the pains of your sisters in bondage, I have none for yours. Insert the plug yourself -- and be quick about it!"