This file is a part of Elf Sternberg's Collected Works on ASSTR.  The
complete archive of Elf's work can be found on his website at:

http://www.drizzle.com/~elf

The author can be contacted at:

mailto:elf@drizzle.com

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                                 Unmask!

Journal Entry 030 / 00477

Erwer, Nenim 05, 00477

"P'nyssa!" I perched on the edge of the g-tube to the bedroom. "Can I
come down?"

"Don't come down yet!" was the answer I got.

"I'd like to use the bathroom!" I shouted.

"Use the one next door! Just don't come down here!"

I grumbled to myself about women and their incessant need to take forever
to dress. "Dave," I said, addressing the household AI.

"The door's unlocked, Ken."

"Thanks." I walked back to our tiny kitchen and opened the door the
P'nyssa's old quarters next door. When she'd moved in with me she started
to use it less and less, so eventually we just moved all of her stuff
over into my quarters and closed up. I suppose that someone else could
have used it over the years, but nobody ever asked for it. After Richard
and P'raine were born we used it as a nursery, but that had been years
ago, and although P'nyssa and I have discussed children since then,
we haven't gone ahead with the idea. Don't know why. Someday, though,
we will again.  We'll have to. It's too much in her, and I think it's
too much in me, too.  But at the moment the room is empty; the walls are
bare metal; all the natural wood paneling and stonework and wallpaper
are gone; the kitchen appliances are quiet and dead. The lights came
on minimally as I walked in and I felt confident in using the gravitics
tube to the downstairs bedroom.

Downstairs was more of the same. The room was completely deserted. The
bathroom didn't look familiar. At one time Richard and Rainy's
toothbrushes had been on the sink, the soap sloppy everywhere, towels on
the floor, absurd science-fiction wallpaper on the walls, but not anymore.
I wanted to call it a restroom, the distinction being that a restroom is
an efficient place for quick operation; a bathroom is a place where one is
most Human, or Tindal, or whatever. One does not get into the shower of
a restroom to fondle one's partner lovingly, but that certainly happens
in my bathroom.

I quickly relieved myself and made my way back out. I wondered idly
what I could do with this extra space, but soon moved on. I hadn't done
anything with this space in decades; there was no reason to change now.

So I soon found myself back in our own quarters, waiting on the living
room couch for my lover who had taken so long to get ready. It finally
took me by surprise when I heard "I'm ready!"

I waited for her to come up through the hole in the floor, and when she
finally rose to full height and the support field snapped on underneath
her my jaw hit the floor.

"What do you think?" She asked.

I was stunned. She wore white, everything bright, clean white. And
nobody wears white like P'nyssa. The contrast with her indigo blue fur
was perfect. She wore 4cm high heels, which while not drastically high
it's high for her; she's the sneaker type. Her pants were bleached white
form-fitting denim, but not tight around her legs, and she wore a full
shirt with silver cufflinks and studs, white bow tied with silver band,
and a perfectly cut full-tailed tuxedo jacket that I guessed was doeskin.
Her only piece of jewelry was "Dragon", the polished pewter earring I'd
given her three centuries ago, in the right ear. Her black hair had
been teased out to frame her face and fell over the white leather in
magnificent contrast.

I fought for my voice. "Uhm... Uh... You look wonderful," I finally
managed to say.

She smiled. "I hope I have that same effect on the rest of the party
tonight."

"You should wear that more often," I said.

"If I wore it more often, you'd get used to it, silly. And I certainly
don't want that." She laughed quietly. "You look wonderful, too."

"Do you really like it? It's not too militaristic?"

"What? A Fleet Uniform? You're a full commander; you deserve it. And
the blue and and white go well with me. We'll make quite a striking pair
tonight." I chuckled back in response.

I brushed what was left of my hair into place. P'nyssa had insisted
on cutting most of it off; if this was to be a masked ball then I had
certainly be more incognito then usual, and for the past hundred years
or so people had been seeing me in long hair. "If you'd cut any more off,
I'd be bald."

"I left you plenty. And it'll grow back. A year from now it'll be down
your back, and you know it." And I did know it; everything on me grows
fast; hair, nails, and unfortunately, teeth.

"By the way," she continued, "how do I look?" She took the light leather
mask and put it over her eyes, adjusting it so she could see.

I laughed. "What's so funny?" she asked.

"You look like P'nyssa Traken."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, you look like a Traken, sweetheart. The white leather just covers
up the albino patches around your eyes. Okay, your patches aren't as big
as the mask, and they don't come together over the bridge of your nose
the way the mask does. And I suppose every Tindal there will be wearing
something similar, but it does make you look like... you, or some other
fem in your family."

She smiled. "Good. Just what I wanted."

As we walked toward the SDisk, that comment ran through my mind over
and over, and as it did, it became more and more cryptic.

When we got to the party, I was sure there was more to it than just
my natural paranoia. Richard and Susan had decided to throw their
fourth-century anniversary party in truly grand fashion, and the Reedhon
Castle courtyard was positively packed with people, all dressed in the
strange to sublime.

I was enormously pleased to see that most people had gone the formal
masked-ball route, and only a few had gone to truly costumely lengths,
although those that had had chosen historical formals to go to. I even
saw a few people in Heinlein full formal, and they looked comfortable,
which made me comfortable. The masks went from the simple eyepiece (like
mine and P'nyssa's) to full headresses. Despite the nature of the party,
I did not see Uncia wearing scars they did not deserve, but the number
of people in drag amazed me. Fashion on Pendor is much slower than on
other worlds, but it has some definable patterns, and at present there
were very set male and female fashions; people at this party were going
out of their way to achieve androgyny. Apparently P'nyssa had clued in to
those patterns with her very feminine tuxedo. I saw Felinzi with complete
watercolors airbrushed into their fur. Mostly Taoist themes, too. Seems
Tao and Zen had taken Felinzi culture by storm the past two years.

But what made my curiosity go shadow-high was that I saw not one, or two,
but at least five Tindals wearing the exact same thing P'nyssa had on. At
first I had thought I was just seeing Nyss over and over, but I saw two
of them talking together, and neither of them had the earring. Well,
they had earrings, but not her Dragon earring. And one of them was most
definitely male.

Dinner was okay; I think the poultry was a tad under-done, but then
maybe I got an Uncia's plate by mistake. Can't expect the caterers to
get everything right. But my dinner companions were pleasant enough;
to my right was a Markal fem named Tavvi with a ton of piercings in her
large rodentine ears, and to my left a femSsphynx whose voice reminded
me of a young lady I'd once known only by the name of Fading Breezes.
Unfortunately, I had no opportunity to get to know either of these
ladies very well since I was situated across from an apparently just
post-adolescent angry-at-the-universe-in-general Centaur who recognized
me and my uniform and seemed quite intent on pestering me. It was all I
could do to concentrate on teasing the Markal under the table, tickling
her very exposed thigh. I'm glad the miniskirt is back.

After desert (and some incredible double entendres' from the Ssphynx,
considering it was only cherry pie a la mode), I advised the young Mel
that when he grow up he volunteer for the Fleet before opening his mouth.
He took affront to that, predictably, and I fully expected the phrase
"affaire' de honor." But he passed. Lucky him. It's been a while since
I've picked up any sort of sword, but I've got a lot more years on the
boy, and age and treachery and all that rot.

I danced for a while with the young Markal lady, and she was intent on
teasing me with her tail, which kept coming around us. I found her a
wonderful dancer, and let her lead. After a while, though, there was a
soft tap on my shoulder, and one of the "Tindal Clones," as I'd started
to label them, stood behind me. "May I have this dance?" she asked.

Her voice did nothing to give her away. She was almost completely unknown
to me. I suddenly recognized another reason behind the tuxedo; it covered
everything, and I couldn't get a clear look to see any of the familiar fur
patterns that sometimes mark a Tindal. But there was this niggling thought
in the back of my mind that told me I should damn well know who this was.

She was experienced on the dance floor, and she took my breath away with
her sensuous hips and white gloves. I enjoyed the music pouring through
the room and the feeling of her body pressed against mine when the music
slowed. And she proved to me, once and for all, that anyone can tango
if their partner is good enough. Because I cannot tango.

We sat and drank champagne, telling outrageous lies as we were allowed by
the masked ball. She told me she was a geologist for the Fleet; I told her
I was an explorer, once with The Eldarfaroth, but now living quietly here
on Pendor. We exchanged tales; both of us had helped Hall-walkers. She
was born before the 'Opening'. I told her I was born in 52, she said 68.
Basically, I think we lied through our respective teeth.

But her company was comforting and pleasant, especially after that
damned Centaur boy, and I was getting a little high from the alcohol and
leaned over to kiss her. She acted as if she had fully expected that,
leaning into the kiss and opening her mouth against mine. I replied,
inviting her tongue into my mouth, feeling it against mine but not really
concentrating on how or where it went.

"I know of a few empty rooms in Reedhon Castle, if you'd like to go
someplace more private," she said.

I gave it all of one second to run through my brain. "Of course," I said.
"After you."

She stood and took my hand in hers, leading me past the crowds clustered
around the various hors d'oeuvre tables and champagne bottles. We made
our way into the sideroom, which held mostly the more tired partygoers,
sitting around quietly talking or communicating in more physical, but
undemanding, manners. The doors were opened to the outside, and I saw
two Centaurs walking through the garden that I swear had been made for
occasions such as this. Down the hill the river trickled by. She (I had
no name for her yet, but she still seemed familiar) led me up the creaky
wooden stairs to a small hallway that I had to duck under to get through,
and down a slate stone hallway to a large wooden door with a very typical
doorknob. We walked in and the lights came up slowly, soft white light
from several candles illuminating a room done in winecolor. The floor
was still slate, but I knew it would never be cold under my feet. The
centerpiece to the room was a huge four-poster bed with canopy. There
was one large mirror. A small door led off to what had to be (and I had
to call) the garderobe.

She closed the door behind her as I crossed the room to the bed. I sat
down and she walked to me, leaned over and kissed me again. I reached up
to ruffle the fur at her neckline and was surprised to feel something else
under the cloth, something that felt like a collar, the more erotic kind.
I wondered if she had a master or mistress somewhere who had put her up
to this.

She must have noted my attention, because she said quietly, "You may undo
me, sir, but not the collar or the mask." Well, that answered my first
question, the one I wasn't going to ask aloud. I reached up while her
mittens slowly stroked down my back and one at a time removed the silver
studs from her shirt and undid the tie. The collar underneath was a thin
wide band of black leather. I opened her belt and pants as she stepped
out of her shoes. The jacket and shirt fell to the floor, and I pulled
her down to the bed, making it easier for me to strip off her pants.

Even if she was someone's love-slave, she wasn't mine. She pushed me
over and down onto the bed to show me that fact. "Lie down and relax,"
she said in a calm voice. She swung one leg over my chest, straddling me
facing away. I had a clear and magnificent view of her buttocks before
she slowly sat down on my face, obscuring my vision completely. She
pulled her legs in tight to block up my hearing, as well. "Lick me,"
she said. It sounded more like a plea than a command, but it was to be
obeyed, and I did, opening my mouth as far as I could and reaching out
with my tongue to slide it over her clit and up into the fleshy depths
of her pussy. She leaned forward, clearing my eyes a little, but all I
could see was her furry buttocks and back and the canopy of the bed. I did
my best to lick her in that awkward position, and I felt I would drown;
she was very wet.  I also had to breathe through my mouth since my nose
was completely covered by her ass.

My attention was suddenly drawn to the sound of the door being opened.
Aghast at being caught in this awkward position, I tried to get the young
fem's attention, but she held my arms down and said, in that same calm
voice, "Quiet." The other person came in and touched my leg, running a
mitten (yes, mitten... another Tindal) along the material of my uniform.
She addressed my pleasant captor and at least identified herself as a her.
Great. I smell a rat, and her name is P'nyssa.

The other reached under the diagonal clasp of my jacket and unzipped it. I
heard a small expression of frustration, and I guess it was that the shirt
for the uniform is a turtleneck. She turned to my boots and removed them,
then the socks. She opened my pants and slid them off. At the moment I was
unerect, but she curled her mitten around my cock and began to stroke me,
very slowly, sliding the skin up and over the head and then back down,
and soon that was rectified. There was a shuffling, and then the new one
straddled my legs along with the first, except I could feel her feet back
along my legs and I knew she was facing my captor, who was not paying much
attention to my needs and was occasionally cutting off my air supply. I
found it frustratingly exciting, especially since I was now completely
volunteering for this. If I weren't, I'd have fought them off and left a
long time ago. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to get me into this
bed, and my curiosity, not to mention ego and libido, were piqued.

The other one (I wish I had names!) slid up and took hold of my cock,
coming down and sliding me into her. I felt her warm cunt surround me
and her full weight came down onto my hips. The bed creaked underneath
us. The one I was eating got up for a second, giving me a clear view
of yet another Tindal In White Leather, still wearing her shirt and
jacket. My original paramour turned around and straddled me facing the
other way, for which I was grateful. She even reached down and held
herself open, giving me much better reach of her clitoris. I licked
and nibbled her cunt, trying to give my all to her, and she apparently
found my talents acceptable, because she was very soon coming in loud,
shaking orgasms. She allowed me to lick her to four orgasms, all coming
in a row. The Tindal over my cock was determined to not let me forget
about her, and began to slide insistently up and down, sighing each
time as I began to thrust my hips upward. She and I developed a rhythm
that became easier as we went on, my cock sliding into her and then back
out. My captor backed away a little from my head, but still blocked my
view of the other, who may have been P'nyssa, for all I saw of her. My
cock surged and tightened, and then finally, I came in a scream, pushing
up into her, trying to get deeper, be engulfed by her.

The one sitting on my chest, the original, put her mittens over my eyes,
and the other got up and left, slowly and calmly, as if she had all
the time in the world. Then the one left got off of me, leaned over and
whispered, "When I leave, take off your shirt and turn over onto your
belly. Close your eyes. If you're tired, take a nap." She leaned over
and kissed my cheek, then picked up her clothes and left, as unhurried
as her friend.

When she left, I got out of bed, stretched, and decided that it was
worth it to find out what was going on. I removed my shirt, pulled
down the covers and lay on my stomach, like she'd asked. The room was
comfortably warm, and I decided against crawling under the covers. I
closed my eyes and tried to relax. I kept thinking about my captor; who
was she? And, damnit, I felt like I should know who she was. Eventually,
I did fall asleep.

I was awoken by the feeling of warm, strong mittens on my back. The
mittens were vaguely oiled, and the person astride my buttocks proved
to be an experienced masseuse. I lay there, enraptured by the warm
sensations of the massage as my unknown benefactor slowly rubbed my
neck and shoulders, working out the few kinks I had. I groaned as the
relaxation reached my brain, filling me with that sense of well-being. I
trusted her, whoever she was. "Thank you," I said quietly.

"Your welcome," said the masseur. My eyes popped open, but I saw nothing;
the room was pitch black. That was a male voice. However dark it was,
I was still tempted to turn around and look, but I decided finally that
that wasn't going to be helpful, and lay still where I was. He leaned
down and whispered into my ears, "You know what I'm going to do when
I'm finished with this rub? I'm going to take the oil and oil myself
up and then I'm going to fuck you, Shardik. How does that sound?" His
voice was achingly familiar.

I groaned. "Go ahead," I whispered. "Everyone else seems determined to
do that tonight."

He chuckled. His strong mitts continued to loosen my back, and as
he spread the oil over my buttocks my excitement returned. He was
professional in his massage, however, leaving my butt when he was done
to caress my legs, the backs of my knees, and my feet. As he did my feet
I sighed again, really enjoying his work.

He let my foot drop to the bed. From the smell I'd guess I was still in
the same room; the bed had the scent of sex and velvet. He never lost
touch of me and I lay with my head on the pillow, eyes closed, waiting.

He straddled my legs, and I felt the furred back of his mitten against
the crease of my butt and I could tell he was oiling his cock, stroking
it to a full erection. "Ready?" He asked.

"Yessss," I whispered. I felt the head of his cock nudge between my
buttocks, searching. His other mitten reached under us to feel for
my asshole, and the two came together. He pressed his weight ever-so-
slightly, and I let him in, I let my ass give way. He sank into me, my
asshole expanding and then closing as the head slid by, feeling the silky
length of his dick slide past my opening and fill my rectum. I closed
my eyes and joyfully felt the weight of his hips crushing my buttocks,
his legs moving between mine, spreading them. He supported himself on
his tens. He slowly withdrew, and the feeling was mind- blowing. Then
back. I don't know if I had an erection, and I didn't care. I just wanted
to be under him, to be his.

He grunted as he fucked me, my ass taking his all. He began to go harder,
and I responded. "Yes," I said. "Just like that."

He laughed, and slowed down. "I want to make this last," he said. He
wasn't being gentle, just slow, jabbing into me with every thrust. It
was wonderful as he fucked me. He lowered himself, his chest against
my back, his breath against my neck. He pressed his forehead against
the back of my neck and laughed quietly. His mitts wrapped around my
shoulders. He began to speed up, his breathing in time with his hips,
and he began to slam against me, harder and harder. It was wonderful; I
wasn't going to come, but it may as well have been me. I was wrapped up
with him, and his cock stroked my guts, my insides, and when he finally
came I shouted in joy with him.

He rolled off of me and the edge of the bed, standing. I no longer felt
him against me, until he leaned over and said "There's one more coming."
He kissed my back, making the muscles tense up again slightly, and then
he left.

I waited, and the time went by slowly. I wondered if I was up to whatever
was next. My ass twitched wonderfully in response to the ravishing from
the male Tindal. I smiled.

The door opened and the last one was female. She was dressed as
the others, in the white denim and leather, gloves and mask. She
walked in and over to me. As she closed the door, the candles lit by
themselves. Nice theatrics, I said to myself. She stood in front of me,
looking as delicious as the others, and said "Are you up to one more?" Her
voice flooded my memories, and it all came back to me. I laughed aloud. I
know who you are, I know who you are, sing-songed through my head as I
looked at her. I know who you all are. I laughed aloud. Wait a second,
there's one missing. Maybe I'll find out later.

"What's so funny?" she asked me.

"That's a funny question," I replied. "Of course I'm up for one more."

"Then help me with my clothes," she said, holding her tens out. I reached
for her cufflinks and removed them, while the hand she had free opened
her shirt. I slid the soft jacket off her shoulders, and she sat on the
bed, topless. I scooted further onto the bed, and she joined me, and I
reached down for her boots. I pulled off the left boot and took her foot
by the ankle, lifting it to my mouth. I gently kissed her big toe, then
moved on to the other, shorter and broader small toe. I licked both with
my tongue, enjoying the taste of sweat on her pads and in her blue fur,
running back down along the arch to her heel, tickling her. She laughed
and squirmed to my touch, and I shifted feet, taking off the other boot
and licking that one as well. She giggled and rolled on the bed, and I
made my way up her calf, nipping and biting. It's hard to lick furries,
since I get all that hair on my tongue, but she seemed to like my biting,
especially when I turned over and got under her knee.

She sighed as I reached her cunt and with my right hand idly brushed the
fur out of the way, exposing her pink flesh. This time it was my control,
and I was determined to enjoy it. I love eating cunt, and she was sweet
as I probed the first time, thrusting my tongue into her vulva and parting
her lips, sucking her outer lips into my mouth. I was being rather rough,
but she seemed to be enjoying it, and I decided not to change tactics. I
spread her lips with my hands and dove in, surrounding her clit with
my lips and licking directly, hard. She moaned a soft, "Yes, just like
that," and I nodded an enthusiastic little nod. I sometimes dipped my
tongue into her cunt, just to taste her sweet juices, but always came
back to her clit, licking with a varying rhythm that just kept getting
harder and harder. She ran her mitts over my head, and she came in a
wonderfully noisy orgasm.

"You liked that," I said.

She nodded and said, "Let's see what I can do to you," coaxing me back
onto my back and taking position over me, taking my cock into her mitts
and leaning over to take me into her mouth. She was talented, taking my
cock deep into her mouth and sucking hard. I closed my eyes and enjoyed
the feeling of her ministrating to me. She suckled my cock, keeping me
hard, but oddly never really getting me much closer to orgasm.

There was a sudden rush of cold air over my cock and balls, and I opened
my eyes. She had stopped, and said, "I want you to make love to me, Ken."

She crawled on her knees to the edge of the bed and, facing away from me,
took each of the posts in her mitts, holding herself up in a semi-leaning
position. She turned her head towards me and through her mask the yellow
eyes seemed to twinkle a little. "Take me," she said.

Encouragement I did not need. I came up behind her, on my knees as well,
and aimed my cock, wet and slick with her saliva, at her cunt. I grabbed
her hips and pulled her towards me, sliding into her as her hips joined
mine.

My cock drove deep, and she moaned as I fucked her. I used my arms and
my hips, pushing her away, then driving back deep into her, pulling her
towards me. I looked down, watching my cock driving in and out of her
cunt, the pink lips and blue fur and wine bedsheets all blurring in a
chiariscuro of sex, and my cock responded to all the stimuli, becoming
harder as I drove in and out of her. "That's it, take me," she said
again, louder. "Fuck me Ken!" she shouted as I pounded her, slamming
against her buttocks. The bed creaked as the force of my ecstatic blows
was absorbed through her body by the bedposts. I could feel my orgasm
building, and she said, "Fuck me, come for me, come on for me," and I
screamed as my body exploded in orgasm, every vestige of self control
lost, every last ounce of strength flowing out of me. I sighed, dropped my
head in exhaustion, and fell back onto the bed. I watched her sag against
the footboard, but then she raised her head high and turned to smile at
me. She crawled over to me, kissed me on the forehead and said, coyly,
"The unmasking is in half an hour. Don't fall asleep!" She laughed,
crawled off the bed, and like my previous lovers, left.

I lay there for a few minutes, then groaned to myself as I got up. There
was a glass of cold water on the bedstand, and I drank it down, completely
ignoring the question of where it had come from. It cooled my parched
throat and I could feel the cold water as it shocked it's way down to my
stomach. I felt... refreshed. I went into the garderobe, glad to see it
was pretty standard, relieved myself and combed my hair back into place. I
dressed and realized... nobody had ever taken my mask off. I'd had it
on all this time? I don't remember... Wow, talk about being preoccupied.

I laughed, finished dressing, and headed for the door. I looked both ways;
the hallway was deserted. I headed back down to the stairs, noted that the
sideroom was mostly deserted, and headed back for the masked ball. Inside,
people were winding down, dancing slowly. Even the band looked a touch
worn out. I noticed the contingent of six Tindals in White Leather, four
of whom, the four I'd been with earlier, with dates at their arms. The
mix was pretty typical, and now that I had a clear count I knew who
they were... P'rose and P'lissane had been the first two, then Richard,
and finally P'maya. P'rose and Lisa each had eager Tindal males to their
sides. P'maya's date was a femSsphynx, which made me remember a letter
I'd gotten from P'nyssa while I'd been in space, and Rick's date was
the adorable Markal I'd been dancing with. Talk about being set up!

Richard and Susan came out and stood on the balcony over the side of
the great hall, and there was a squawk from the speakers as they turned
on the PA system. Susan gave a standard "I'd like to thank you all for
coming," speech, and then Richard said, "And now, it's time to unmask."

The ritual cry went up from the great crowd assembled, "Unmask! Unmask!" I
turned to my captors as a whole and said, "The jig, so to speak, is up,
guys." I took off my masks as they took of theirs. Every one of them,
excepting Richard, had the characteristic Traken markings about their
eyes. Males don't get it.

I looked at them all, and waited for somebody to say something. Other than
Tavvi their dates looked little confused. I had just, in very distinctive
fashion, been on the receiving end of four out of five of P'nyssa's
children. Not to mention being ravished quite effectively my own son! I
turned to the two remaining, P'nyssa herself and P'raine, and said, in
what must have sounded like a desperate voice, "What is this all about?"

They cracked up laughing. "It's about you, Ken," P'nyssa said. "I was
talking to Rick and we started to talk about the party, and you, and it
just sort of... happened. We all agreed to it, just for fun."

I smiled wide, so wide I felt the muscles in my face strain, and said,
"Yeah, I've had moments like that myself. Pretty elaborate, sweetheart.
Thank you."

She hugged me tight and said, "You're welcome. But we have one more
surprise for you. Do you know what tomorrow is?"

I ransacked my brain for ideas; what was tomorrow? The day after Richard
and Susan's anniversary, Lotesse 3rd. Lotesse 4th? "Oh, no," I said.

"That's right. Tomorrow's your birthday, Ken, and Rainy and I have
decided that you should have the two of us tomorrow, starting right now,
since the party here is over."

"P'nyssa... I can't sleep with both of you in bed."

"Why not?"

"Well, for one thing," I said, turning to P'raine, "you're my daughter."

"You were perfectly willing to let your son have at you," P'nyssa said
touchily.

"Okay, I admit..." I did enjoy it, and I felt not one touch or twinge
of guilt about it. "Okay, let's try it. But just a second," I said,
holding up my hand. I turned, one after the other kissed P'maya, P'rose,
P'Richard, and finally, P'lissane, and bid them goodnight. And for me,
there is no such thing as a friendly kiss. I distinctly felt Lisa's toes
curl. "Goodnight, all."

They all wished me goodnight, and with P'nyssa on my left and P'raine
on my right, mother and daughter and (adoptive) father in the middle we
bid Richard and Susan a good night and teleported home.

I hope P'raine wasn't too disappointed by my insistence that we head to
bed, but I was tired, and from the looks they were giving me, they were
too. We went to bed.

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Original document is available from:
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The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., and Related Tales
are Copyright (c) 1989-2000 Elf Mathieu Sternberg. Distribution limited
to electronic media not-for-profit use only. All other rights are reserved
to the author.
