Chapter 15

Ray-ray's ass hurt, not from sitting in the chairs. Each one molded itself to fit the unique needs and shape of its user. The pinches came from other things in the room. Ray-ray's reasons for discomfort always smiled before, during and after inflicting his bruises. Almost every female in the room seemed to want to know just how firm his nether cheeks were. He felt that fingerprints dotted his thighs, inquiring marks from females who could not get behind him. The restrooms were not bastions of solitude either. A woman dressed in a black uniform followed him in and offered to help him aim at the urinal.

Lunch provided little respite. At least the women let him eat. His tray disappeared once he finished eating, the cost of this assistance, a quick kiss. Back at the meeting table, he found himself tucked in the corner with no escape. Realizing that sexual harassment laws were not the top priority, Ray-ray grinned and suffered silently. Somewhere back on Earth, Dr. Lynda Nelson, his Women in America professor, would be laughing at his predicament.

To complicate matters, he discovered he was destined to be, for better or worse, a Sheriff's Deputy. Ray-ray's new home had a unique mission. Unlike other planets, Wayward's primary function consisted in providing products created by skilled artisan labor, created by managing natural resources. The financial maneuvering behind Wayward sought to help the Darjee fund the war against the Swarm. Ray-ray began to understand the irony. The very replicator technology that the humans thought of as new and exciting, the aliens of the Confederacy were jaded about. True, humanity was a junior member in the Confederacy, but Ray-ray hoped that 'we' humans could grow on the other races.

A majority of the population on Wayward would have concubine level scores. Those scores came under more scrutiny than at most colonies. The existence of the colony rested on the skills of the artisans and the products of the cottage industries. Those scores that would make a good citizen, loyal to the Confederacy, on Wayward replaced the scores that would make a good soldier loyal to the Confederacy on other colonies. The vetting process took the equivalent of five hundred man-hours per person. Once that pool of concubines was created, the AIs further reduced the total numbers of potential colonists by using the scores of their significant others.

Reading a projected community dynamic, Ray-ray decided that most of the time he would be a counselor and confidante rather than a real lawman. With the way the women kept pawing at him, he figured he would end up either the cause for the first domestic battery call or more probably the first murder victim himself.

The various lifestyles once possessed by the new colony members existed no more. Ray-ray discovered that his ultimate boss in law enforcement, Lieutenant Rose Holloman, chaired the table. Her primary role would be as the Commander of the ROTC at the school and commander of the colony militia. One of the target extractees, a glass smith, ended up being married to a shift commander from one of the smaller county sheriff departments in Georgia. Joshua Polanski would be the sheriff, Ray-ray's immediate supervisor.

After the three o'clock stretch break, a brief history of Wayward shed some light on the impetus of the colony. Evidently, two competing Darjee plans were initiated as to how to deal with humanity and the eventual incursion of the Sa'arm. Both plans involved Wayward, a planet with slightly above Earth gravity and twenty percent oxygen in its mixture of breathable air. Sea level on Wayward equated to two thousand feet on earth. Economically, the planet sat close enough to the far edge of the Confederacy. The potential gains fell just below the profit threshold for the AIs to allow colonization by the Darjee themselves.

Humanity's destiny, as written by the Darjee, included Wayward in the top two options. The more conservative plan originally called for the preservation of the human species through relocating some humans to Wayward; specific humans who met the stringent criteria for the creation of a breeding population. Taken secretly, those chosen humans would have been resettled on Wayward, kept apart from Confederacy technology. Initial estimates of Sa'arm expansion, which supported this approach, proved to have significant errors.

During first contact, the Darjee accepted several gifts offered by the humans. Examination determined that some of the gift items were created by the efforts of skilled artisans. Their value, aesthetically and in terms of uniqueness, offered the Darjee a potential resource to offset the cost of resisting the Sa'arm. Wayward became a potential economic engine. The option to use humanity to confront the Sa'arm became feasible.

The Darjee picked Marsha Danvers to be the Governor. Back at USF, in Ray-ray's Environmental Law and Crime class, Danvers had been the subject of a study group's presentation. The woman possessed a will of iron. Her ethics had led her to turn in members of her own environmental group when they proposed violence as a way to draw attention to their cause. Very few people knew that her actions caused her son's indictment and conviction as a co-conspirator.

After the last break, each committee reported their progress. Ray-ray sat next to Bill, in the hope Bill could keep the females at bay.

"Ray-ray, what have you been up to?"

"I had a goal back on Earth. I wanted to get my degree and work in a small town." He glanced over at the Marine who chaired his group. "I never realized I'd have to travel a few billion miles to find it."

The men shared a good laugh. Bill turned somber and took a breath.

"Ray-ray," Bill put his hand on his shoulder. "I have had several requests to ." Bill's face turned a heavy shade of red. "God, several women asked that I lend you out for the night."

Seeing movies and television shows, Ray-ray had wondered why any normal person would do a double take. He now performed a triple take. Ray-ray heard teeth click. They were his.

"It's my fault," confessed Bill. "When I had everyone altered, I intentionally wanted you to be desirable to the women." Bill sounded like a frat pledge desperately trying to apologize for parking on the front steps of the student center. "I had the AI heighten your pheromone production, along with the other enhancements." Looking aft, Bill contemplated the recent past. "The AI literally made you a sexy, sweet smelling, chick magnet."

He was sane. "That explains a lot." Ray-ray patted Bill softly on the upper back. "I have an ego, but what was happening earlier today made me feel like the last bonbon at a weight watchers meeting."

"I've arranged for you to be fine-tuned just for our ladies." Ray-ray made a pouty face. Bill raised a Vulcan eyebrow. "I could wait until tomorrow and send you to your favorite Marine's bunk for the night."

Ray-ray snarfed the fruit drink through his nose. They both laughed for the next few minutes, drawing stares. Bill knew the winks and lip licking were directed at Ray-ray.

The voice of Lieutenant Holloman entered the conversation. "Send him, or better yet, both of you come to Blue Two." She walked back to the table.

"Hell, if I was only ten years wait," Bill smiled. "I am." He poked Ray-ray lightly. "I can handle the girls tonight."

"You wouldn't."

Bill put his hand on his right cheek, feigning shock. "You do need to make a good first, second, even a third impression after all." His face shifted from the false shock into a grin. "I'd hate for you not to get your new boss off to a good start."

"You've been learning how to be evil from Leslie. She asked that I rub her ankles tonight."

Bill's grin faded. "The AI just confirmed her wish." He looked at the women in the room. "As soon as this is over, make a dash for the pod."

Governor Daniels introduced herself. She stood at a lectern. Bill prepared himself for a trip to PowerPoint Hell.

"Our new home, Wayward, will begin with nineteen hundred and thirty-six adults. Not everyone is aboard the Kon Tiki." She never looked up. A slab-sided, elongated rectangular prism with running lights appeared on the screen. "Six days behind us, the Stable Class Ship ALS004 Rancho Camulos carries one hundred and fifteen of our fellow citizens. She also carries our livestock, seed, and farm equipment."

The image switched to an expansive green space. Then the view lifted, showing a vaguely hexagonal system of streets. There were no true straight lines. It seemed that the layout conformed to the contours and topography of the rolling hills.

"The intent of these groupings is to create twelve neighborhoods." Blue dots popped onto the screen. "I intended originally to group the households homogeneously; however I was persuaded to randomize the placement of individual family units." The display changed, revealing data about family groups. The detail included hobbies and interests of the individuals involved.

Governor Daniels set few absolutes. One of her most stringent stipulations centered on commuting. She wanted individuals to work away from where they lived. Farmers would work the fields east of the great mountains. The herds would range on a plateau on the southern continent; once winter came a drive would move the herds to a subtropical plain to the north. Wayward's seasons were almost twice as long as Earth's.

Thirteen minutes later, the collected group was ready to let the governor pick their homesteads.

Bill prepared to drag himself back to the pod. He normally hated planning meetings, as they usually entailed a bright idea from some idiot who either hadn't been in a classroom for years or had some miracle product to sell.

Instead, this session involved planning an entire community. Bill found himself right in the middle of the education system. 'System' implied more than sleep training and related practicum. To make the colony concept work, more importantly, to make it viable over the long term, called for vocational and arts education. The written prospectus from the governor proved to be a bit shocking in its scope. Bill was beginning to like her style.

Not every solution or proposal found its inception due to Danvers. Edith's potential alienation was averted by Pre-Teen Girls' Club. Danvers had championed the club as an example of people stepping in to serve a need.

Danvers was willing to admit she didn't have all the answers. Bill knew he didn't have all the answers either. Working in the planning session showed that the group needed to concentrate on the pragmatic and the practical as opposed to rhetoric.

Edith met him at the door of the conference room. He walked her to a sleepover at a pod in the yellow ring. Seeing her excitement rejuvenated Bill by showing him why the planning session was necessary.

Edith, like her mother, could make friends with anyone.

"Papa, thank you for taking me to Maria's"

"My pleasure Edie." His smile spoke more than the words.

Bill walked along as Edith skipped in and around the people. Her energy rubbed off as smiles and lighter steps. They wove their way into the Yellow Ring.

Bill met the mother of Maria Nez. Someone named Whitefeather had invited her and seven friends from Tohatchi, New Mexico, to the Mid-South Heritage Fair, where they demonstrated traditional Navajo rug weaving. They had left their husbands behind on Earth.

"Will it worry you if we have invited a few crew and Marines over for sex tonight?" Jodie Nez asked blatantly.

"I have no fear, Edie's seen a lot of it over the last week."

They exchanged a smile. Bill suddenly understood what women meant when they claimed that men undressed them with their eyes. At least he wasn't being felt up, as Ray-ray had been today.

Bill turned to Edith. "No spying on the men while they're having orgasms, young lady. You have enough facial expressions in that 'look catalogue' already"

"That's not fair, Papa!"

Bill pulled Edith in, kissing her on the top of her head. "Tell Ms. Nez about the looks." That initiated a giggle from his dependant. Ms. Nez sported a wise knowing look that reassured Bill.

Edith bounced into the pod with her new friend, Maria.

It felt like home. Entering through the door, Bill was greeted by the throng in the family room. The adults waited until the kids let him loose. Tiffany and Salome kissed him next. Misty snoozed away in the sleep trainer. He could hear Leslie and Ray-ray in the bedroom.

Joyce was over near the wall tying knots in a mass of hanging ropes. Her back was to him. She seemed to be lost in her work. At first Bill thought that she was working on a hammock. He stepped closer. It appeared to be a macramé project. At the present stage, it was just thirty some-odd ropes and a few rings. Sitting on a pedestal next to her was an oddly shaped, white, giant ceramic eggplant with several holes.

She paused, looking at the eggplant. Bill slipped up behind her, easing his hands up her torso and grasping her breasts. Joyce leaned back, reaching to pull his head to the left of hers, kissing his cheek.

"What's this?" He kneaded her mounds strongly.

"It's a secret." Joyce reached back, entangling her fingers in Bill's shirt.

Bill liked her being playful. Every day Joyce came more and more out of her shell. "How will I get you to tell?" He punctuated the playful threat by stopping the attention he lavished on her nipples.

Her little whimper brought a smile to his face. The twitch in his pants hinted at how much his women had woven their way into him. Keeping them happy made him feel secure in himself.

"To find out, you'll need to make a deposit or two." Joyce broke away, running for the bedroom, glancing back once when she reached the door.

Bill gave her three steps. <'There is a high probability that sexual intercourse with the Concubine Joyce will result in an impregnation.'> Two days ago, his boner would have shrunk in response to the AI whispering such into his implant. After today, that bit of information might cause the first deposit to be a quickie.

Catching Joyce at the door, he swooped her backwards, engaging a heavy kiss. Breaking it, he looked into her eyes. "I don't want Leslie to be pregnant alone." Visions of what waited for his children emboldened him.

It took a few seconds for the words to penetrate Joyce's bliss. She nodded vigorously.

Bill went to rip open his shirt. Joyce placed her hands on his. Bill took his hands away. The need to rush her to bed surrendered to the need to make his woman happy. The top four buttons she opened quickly. Once that part of his chest was exposed, she kissed his right pec and gave the nipple a quick suck.

Doubts that Bill may have harbored about sex becoming boring, a chore, drifted into worries of ways he might die of pleasure because of it.

Joyce kissed behind each button as she worked her way toward his bellybutton. Tugging the shirt evenly down his arms she stopped, leaving his arms pinned. Joyce crushed herself into him, holding him tight. The shirt slid down, freeing his arms. Bill gave her control. She pulled him through the door, letting the shirt stay outside the room.

"Can I ride, Bill?" The voice seemed inquisitive and hopeful.

"What do you want me to do?"

Joyce backed him to the bed. Bill lay on his back next to where Ray-ray was cuddling with Leslie.

Joyce climbed on top of him, setting herself squarely on his abs. She leaned forward kissing him. "The AI asked if I could make a macramé hanger for that white party favor."

Bill had to force himself to remember. The kiss did little to keep the blood flowing to his brain. He nodded while keeping direct eye contact, creating a field of intimacy.

"He provided me a model and some twine to experiment with."

Joyce turned around, giving Bill a chance to grope her ass cheeks while she stripped his lower half bare. Bill took the opportunity to slick up a finger using her flowing pussy juices and then he slid that finger into Joyce's ass.

"Bill, that's engh." Joyce shook from a mini-orgasm.

He relished the sensations he felt from pleasing her. He didn't ask for the change to Joyce. This little surprise added a difference unique to her. "Joyce." She didn't respond. Bill removed his finger. "Joyce." This time she looked at him. "Would you like for Ray-ray to help make you pregnant?"

She leaned forward, making clear eye contact. "Yes." The grin she wore after that statement belonged on a child on Christmas morning.

Bill prompted her. "Then ask him."

Joyce turned beet red. She turned to face the cuddling couple. "Leslie, is Ray-ray free?"

Bill could see that Leslie and Ray-ray were watching the current action.

Bill waved the hand closest to Leslie but out of Joyce's field of vision. The raised index finger on his right hand waved back and forth signaling no.

"You have Bill," Leslie replied, glaring at Bill.

Joyce made eyes at Bill, trying to urge him to take control. Bill slid his finger along her ass crack. He whispered to Joyce. "Tell her what you want him to do."

Joyce wavered momentarily. Bill stroked her anus.

"I want, I want Ray-ray in my ass while I ride Bill."

Bill turned a thumb up.

"Sure," responded Ray-ray.

"Give me minute to get Ray-ray ready." Leslie sat up. She opened a panel in the headboard, grabbing a tube.

Bill watched Leslie grab the brown cock and begin slicking it with lube. He scooted his body toward the edge, never disengaging from Joyce. Once his feet hit the floor and his butt touched the side of the mattress, he stopped. Bill pulled Joyce flat to his chest. Then he pulled her legs forward, guiding her onto his dick but exposing her to the rear.

"Bill, that tickles, your hair is teasing my clit." Joyce bucked as much as possible. Bill held her legs firmly. Gaining no perch to create stimulation, she plucked a chest hair to show her frustration.

Joyce's eyes popped wide when Ray-ray touched her. She tensed when Ray-ray positioned his cock. Bill could feel Joyce trying to slide toward Ray-ray.

Ray-ray added a new twist. "Leslie, do you remember what he had Misty do to me at the pickup?"

"Not really." Bill feared that tone.

"Keep his balls warm, safe, and wet for a while."

Joyce felt Bill thrust up a bit seconds after Ray-ray's request. She could hear him groan. A softer one from Leslie came from behind and below Joyce.

Ray-ray took his sweet time. He pushed, slowly spreading her sphincter. She wanted to push back. Bill held her fast. The bullet-shaped head was forcing her ass to surrender. Once breached, Ray-ray eased his whole cock in. Impaled by both men, Joyce found herself clawing at Bill's arms and chest, trying to induce friction.

Ray-ray began stroking, using long heavy motions. She could feel both dicks. Ray-ray provided all the movement. Bill she rode due to Ray-ray's power. Someone moaned heavily in pleasure. Joyce realized the sounds emanated from her.

Ray-ray gave an instruction to Leslie. "Slide a finger up Bill's ass and massage his prostate."

Seconds later Bill called out through clinched teeth, "Fuck."

Joyce felt his cock spasm. He tried to kiss her but the relative positions of the cluster kept their mouths apart. He did kiss the top of her head.

Ray-ray picked up speed. Bill's matted pubic hair dragged across and in her pussy. A big orgasm ripped into her. She could feel her cervix smash into the head of Bill's cock. Joyce screamed. Bill grunted again from either another cum or in response to hers. Ray-ray went faster.

This orgasm stayed active for a long time. As it crested, Ray-ray jammed hard forward, cuming into her ass. They lay in a heap.

Leslie helped Ray-ray off and out of Joyce. Joyce started to climb off Bill.

"Please remain as you are, Joyce Jenkins." She had forgotten the all-seeing AI. "Remaining as you are for ten minutes will increase the probability of conception to seventy-three percent."

"Oh Bill," she laid her head on his chest. "I really want your baby."

"That's mine pleasure, Joyce." Bill's grammar was a reflection of just how scrambled his brain was scrambled after the sex.

As her body recovered, she could feel Ray-ray's spunk flow down to where she was joined to Bill. Could Bill feel the fluids? She knew what each member of the family tasted like. Joyce recalled combinations from cleanups after late night orgies. That much of Ray-ray's cum mixed with Bill's sweat. She would need to take a taste.

Rising up to look at Bill, she saw the blood. Her fingernails had gouged cuts into his arms and chest. "Bill, you're bleeding." Joyce started to get up.

"Stay still, Joyce." Bill grabbed her right leg with his left hand, then placed his right arm over her back softly pinning her to him. "Our baby, Joyce, stay still."

Joyce responded by hugging his chest, hoping she could hide her tears.