Upon a Mountain's Edge Part Five

[laurie_ky]

The heading and Part One and Two


Part Five

“Connor. How did Blair look today?” I'd heard her approaching the door of our little love nest and intercepted her at the door.

It had been three long days since Blair had been sent to Crawford's, and she'd been working twelve-hour shifts, caretaking him and about a hundred other mind-wiped people.

I hadn't been allowed to see him to bond. Crawford had ignored my increasingly frantic messages to him, and if I didn't get some results within the next day then I was stomping into his office to make a real scene.

She pushed past me and kicked off her shoes and flopped down on the inexpensive couch with an appreciative groan. “He's starting to feel bond withdrawal, I think. The poor bugger's having mood swings. One moment he's normal, well, normal for dollies, and then he's rocking himself, the poor pet, with tears running down his face. So far, giving him a hug seems to snap him out of it. What about you, mate? Having any spikes or zones yet?”

“I got lost looking at the soap bubbles while washing the dishes last night. I think I was zoned for about a half hour. My comm - it was Simon checking on me - started chiming and that brought me out of it.“

I dropped down in a green armchair, worn but comfortable. “I can feel these mood swings of Blair's through our bond. I try to send him reassurance; maybe it helps. We haven't been able to talk telepathically since he had the mind-wipe treatment. He isn't receptive when I try to contact him. I don't know, maybe he's not able to think clearly enough to form messages to me in his head.”

Connor yawned. “He's eating what's put in front of him, and he's washing himself without me having to remind him. He's had more testing today. Apparently some abilities such as manual dexterity vary between the dollies and they won't put a clumsy one on a job that needs a dolly with clever hands. I looked at his test results. He's a star, even like this. Tomorrow, though, he'll be assigned to a work station. Oh, and this happened today. Made my blood boil, it did. Two smarmy types singled out Sandy and about thirty other new ones. They brought them into a room one by one and then sent them out again. I made some excuse to knock on the door and open it up, and those two gits were making holos of the dolly in the room. She was naked and posing with her hands cupping her breasts. I mumbled an excuse for interrupting them and shut the door. All of the dollies in line were attractive and young. Like Sandy.”

I clenched my fists, aching to smash those men who'd made Blair show them his body, touched him to pose him, made him hold his dick in his hands and smile. When this was over I was tracking down every one of those holos and destroying them. And maybe the photographers.

Connor got up and laid a hand on my shoulder. “We'll get them, Jim. And Sandy won't disappear into some unknown whore-house. Not on our watch. If we lose contact, then Community Service can track him through his bone beacon, if his frequency is put back on monitoring status.”

As part of his cover, he'd been automatically dismissed from Community Service's probation program before he was sent to Crawford Industries, and his beacon's frequency had been removed from the monitoring program.

Connor went into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water. She drank half of it, then set the cup down. She gave me a sharp-eyed glance, and said, awkwardly, “The task force has people in place to pose as customers, and when they're shown Sandy's picture they'll book him. And you'll be able to see him soon. Kincaid's not the sort to waste a valuable tool like you. He'll have a pipeline coming straight from headquarters to him and his bigoted group.”

She sighed. “I just don't understand his kind of thinking; he needs to be taken down.”

I looked up at her, and she looked determined. Megan Connor was tough, but fair, and hadn't grown up steeped in the classism that was rampant throughout the Hundred Worlds' culture, especially here on New Rainier. She didn't look at bastards as the dregs of society.

Kincaid did. His whole manifesto was based on keeping bastards from obtaining any privileges. Privileges. Wrong word. And I hadn't even realized it when I'd first thought it. Blair, if he'd heard me, would have pointed out that the “rights” the elite and superior classes took for granted, when applied to the bastard class, and in some things, the common class, suddenly morphed into “privileges.” Since Blair had become my guide, there were a lot of things I was seeing now through his eyes, and it wasn't a very scenic view.

The Sunrise Patriots were against any programs like the ones Blair had enrolled in that helped educate bastards so that they could move out of their class. Kincaid's most extreme position was that all bastards should be sterilized and mind-wiped, not just those who committed a crime.

In essence, Kincaid stood for reducing the bastard class to slaves.

Unfortunately, he had his share of supporters, and it wasn't hard to see why Crawford had joined him. More mindless slaves for him to use to increase production at his factories and on his agri-farms.

Connor yawned again, reminding me that she'd worked through the night.

I pointed to her bedroom door. “Get some sleep. I'm going to MIC to report in to Captain Banks, and I'll include what you've told me. Then I'm dogging Crawford's footsteps. I've got to bring enough attention to myself so that Kincaid hears about it. I'm going to have Justice pull Blair out in three more days if we haven't bonded. He'll only get a year off his sentence, instead of ten years, though.”

“Hang tough, mate. I'm dead on my feet, see you later.”

She went into the small bedroom she'd taken as hers and shut the door.

I checked our soul bond and Blair radiated happiness. I was starting to hate the feeling.

xxx

That night I shifted from dreaming into the spirit world, searching for Blair in the blue-tinted jungle that mirrored Quyllur's rain forests. I sensed he was near the waterfall, but try as I might, I couldn't find him. I used all my senses, but it was like he was a ghost to me. Sometimes it seemed as if I caught his scent on the breeze, but it would be gone before I could track it to him. Frustrated, I ended my spirit walk and returned to broken dreams, confused and lonely.

xxx

”Jim!”

I sat up in bed, groggy, and looked around for Blair. It was dawn, and the birds outside were starting to sing. Blair got annoyed when they woke him up, but I didn't mind. Their ancestors had come to New Rainier along with mine long ago, across the vast reaches of space. I liked knowing that about them.

I got out of bed and stretched and remembered just where Blair was this morning.

”Jim, wake up! Man, I'm back, I'm back, my mind isn't full of happy mush anymore. Wake the fuck up and talk to me!”

I let out a relieved sigh and a knot in my gut uncoiled. The mind-wipe had ended, just like the doctor had said it would. I hadn't realized until that moment how afraid I'd been that something had gone wrong and Blair would remain a brainless sweet shell of himself for the rest of his life.

”Blair, are you okay? Where are you? How much do you remember about the last couple of days?”

”I'm doing all right. I haven't been hurt. I'm in my dorm, along with about a hundred other poor souls. Everybody else seems to be asleep on mats. Megan's here; I can see her sitting at a desk. And I do remember what happened over the last few days. Jim, a couple of men took my picture. Uh, they told me to do things and I did them. I smiled while they were exploiting me. It just didn't bother me, and it's really strange, but it still doesn't bother me that they posed me as if I was a cash boy.”

It made me seethe thinking about how Crawford and Kincaid were taking advantage of such a vulnerable population. Knowing they were doing it to Blair made it personal. ”Connor told me about the holos and I hated it for you. Looks like you're going to be made available soon.” I grabbed a robe and walked out to the kitchen to make a pot of kaffee.

“Oh, I know it. They talked right in front of me about the prostitution ring. I recorded it. Wow. Even though I was still dopey, a part of me knew to take pictures and record their conversation. That doctor knew his business. All I have to do is think a command and a copy of what I'm seeing and hearing goes to the chip.”

”Are you sure it's working?” Kaffee made, I knocked back the first cup and re-filled it, feeling myself starting to really wake up.

”I can review the recordings, some sort of feedback loop. Really fascinating technology. Today I'm going to snoop around the offices here. Even if I'm caught, the managers will just think I'm a lost dolly. I can't override the hypno treatment and talk directly to Megan as myself; I won't have the benefit of naturally acting mind-wiped anymore if I do. Can you comm her, pass along that I can think for myself again? Tell her to back my play. I'm going to get cleaning supplies and check out the offices before people show up for work.”

We talked a little longer, but I didn't want Blair to become tired, so reluctantly I said good-bye.

I commed Connor and told her Blair was no longer mind-wiped and would be looking for evidence. She was as relieved as me to hear it. She'd have his back, and I was grateful to her.

At least Blair was able to do things now to move this case along. I was stuck until Kincaid decided to let me bond with Blair as a bribe. I'd be in his pocket then, or so we hoped he'd think. His offer had better come soon.

In another day, I could feel that both Blair and I would be in serious bonding withdrawal. Maybe I'd get past Crawford Industries' security later today. The manager had barred me after the last time I'd visited Crawford's complex. Let them see a sentinel going primal to reach his guide. Maybe that would finally get Kincaid interested in me.

xxx

“Look, mate,” Connor wheedled to the man blocking our entrance into the office section of the complex, “this little dolly's a real crybaby if he doesn't have a chore to do. As long as his hands are busy, he's not acting all tragic. I don't like seeing him unhappy. It's unnerving. Dollies aren't supposed to be sad. Let him do a spot of cleaning; it'll cheer him right up. He's already finished up what he could in the dorms.”

I started to sniffle, and it wasn't acting. Now that I wasn't talking to Jim telepathically, I was missing him so badly that I yearned to sit down and bawl my eyes out. I had expected mood swings since I was in bond withdrawal, but knowing and experiencing were two different things.

“I saw him crying yesterday. Why don't you tell him to play with himself, let him feel better that way? Seems as if the rest of them do it all the time.” The guard, a man in his fifties, tall and stocky, came across as tired and bored. Megan needed him to unlock the offices so I could look around, get some leads or evidence to tie Hannity, Crawford, and Kincaid together.

I began to sob, and my eyes started overflowing. It wasn't true that doing a chore would make me feel better. I'd have to fake being cheerful for a while till the mood swing ended.

“He can't, the poor little bugger. He's the one that was bonded to a sentinel. He can only get it up with that fellow.” Megan reached out and shook me a little, but that only made me cry harder.

The guard laid a hand on her arm, stopping her. “Here now, none of that. Is the baby getting on your nerves, eh, with his wallering and wailing? I remember the feeling with my young ones, but you can't give in to smacking them. You need a break, don't you? All right, I can't see the harm in letting him clean. Come back and get him before my shift ends.”

Megan turned me around and pointed to the cleaning cart I'd brought along. “There you are, now stop the blubbering. Be a good dolly and dust and sweep and polish up the offices.” To the guard she said, gratefully, “Thanks. You're a pal,” and she left me with him.

He shushed me and mopped up my tears with the tail of his shirt. Then he made me blow my nose into a wad of tissues he held to my face. He tossed them and gave me a strong hug. “Now then, come along. Once you're busy, you'll feel better.”

I wondered if the staff here, the ones that weren't abusive, tended to infantilize the mind-wiped, or was it just me that got his nose wiped and treated like a toddler? Was it easier to think of us as children, in need of comfort and structure, than to wonder if we'd really deserved to be made into dollies?

Well, this guard seemed a decent man. He unlocked a suite of offices, and I smiled at him to thank him for his kindness. He ran his hand through my curls before I went into the first room.

“Work quietly, and when you've finished with this place go on to the next room. They're all unlocked.”

He shut the door and I got to work. Holding onto a duster, I checked through the desk drawers and the filing cabinets. I didn't find anything useful there. On to the next step. Megan had secreted in the cleaning cart a tiny slave equipped with the best security code breakers the NRIA had developed, and I used it to investigate the slave sitting on the desk. I didn't have time to read any files so I copied them to the little slave. I hurriedly finished cleaning that office, keeping an inane smile on my face in case the guard opened the door, and then went on to the next room.

I continued checking each desk and cabinet and copying files. In the overseer’s office I found work assignments for the next day ready to be issued. I scanned for my name, and if the hypno-treatment hadn't kept me from reacting, I would have sworn out loud. Instead, my mouth kept turning up in a show of being a happy worker as I read that I was to be transported to Daniel Hannity's house as domestic help for the next two days.

Daniel Hannity was the judge who had sentenced me. There was a notation on the page that I'd been requested personally by the client. No charge.

I didn't know why he'd picked me, but it couldn't be for anything good. Judge Hannity hated bastards. The disdain he'd showed in court for me and the others in my class had been extreme. Still, this might be another opportunity to gather evidence against the judge.

It was almost time for the morning shift to arrive, and I finished tidying up the last office. I hadn't seen anything about the prostitution ring, and I wondered if those records were kept here. Maybe that information had been on an office slave. If so, Megan would take what I'd copied out with her when she left in a few hours.

I heard her saying hello to the guard, and I left the office and went to her.

I smiled at her and the guard. She winked at me, and said, in a syrupy-sticky voice, “Well, now, back to being happy, are we? Come along. It's time to eat and get cleaned up.” She thanked the guard again and briskly headed towards my dorm. I followed her like a baby duckling did its mama, stopping when she did at the large communal shower.

The dollies hadn't left the sleeping room yet. Megan was doing me a kindness by letting me shower in relative privacy. The morning shift was straggling in, though, so she said for any eavesdropper's benefit, “In you go, and don't forget to wash your face and hair and your bottom. Then come to the sleeping room and put up your mat. I'll take the cart and put it away. Be quick, and don't play in the water.” She took the cart from me, deftly palming the tiny slave I'd hidden next to the roll of cleaning towels.

I giggled for a moment, then said, “Okay,” and followed her orders. I talked telepathically to Jim briefly and explained about Hannity. Jim was having a rough morning. He'd experienced my sadness, and from him it had echoed to me. He was uncomfortable, his sense of touch was spiking so much that his clothes felt like sandpaper.

He was pleased to hear about my success in checking out the offices, and we both hoped that the files contained evidence the task force could use.

By the time I'd dressed in clean coveralls and gone to put up my mat, I'd said goodbye. It made me want to cry again, but I resisted breaking down. This was the longest I'd been away from Jim since we'd bonded, and I couldn't wait for this operation to be finished.

Later, I was given a drink and a rolled up piece of flat bread that had a meat and grain mixture inside it. I ate it, smiling at everybody else sitting down on the floor with me, the mats secured on the walls behind us.

Then assignments were given out, the majority of dollies sent to their usual workplace.

I responded when an overseer called my name . My code was quickly checked, and I and five others were taken to a vehicle and dropped off at Judge Hannity's huge house.

The judge had regular servants, but since he was preparing for some big party, there was extra work to do. The other five dollies were given assignments under the supervision of the household staff.

Hannity singled me out and took me into a study with an expensive desk and elegant chairs. I turned my recording chip on, expecting him to say or do something he didn't want to be noticed.

He slapped me hard across the face. “You were a disrespectful little bastard, daring to blow kisses in my courtroom. You and that sentinel of yours. You've dragged him down to your own depraved level. The man's an elite, after all. It's for his sake that I want your bond broken. He can do better, much better. I know you don't understand a word I'm saying, but having you clean my toilets is balm for my soul.” He slapped me again and I fell to the ground.

“Get up, you worthless bastard.” He kicked me, and Jim's rage blazed through our bond. I assured him that I was fine, that at the least Hannity could be charged with abuse thanks to my chip.

I got slowly to my feet, and then the hypno-treatment saved my butt. I smiled at the man, even though inside of me it was the last thing I wanted to do.

“I like to work. Please give me a job to do.” It was a rote phrase all of us dollies had been programed during the mind-wipe procedure to say to those in charge of us. Us. Being treated like a dolly was making me feel like one, even if I wasn't really mind-wiped.

That submissive phrase calmed Hannity, to my relief. He muttered to himself that he had to leave for court anyway. He sent me out and a woman on his regular staff took charge of me. I spent the day cleaning bathrooms and mopping floors and washing walls. I couldn't snoop since I wasn't left alone, but I was assigned here tomorrow to help with the party. I gathered I would be kitchen help. Probably washing dishes or helping with food prep. Maybe, though, I would get a chance to hear or see something that would give me more evidence of maleficence than just being slapped around by the judge.

xxx

I woke up surrounded by medics and with the front security guard at Crawford Industries staring down at me.

I sat up and tore off the monitors that were stuck to my skin. “Okay, I zoned. How long was I out?”

A medic with a cheerful expression on her pleasant features told me that I'd been out for forty minutes. If I hadn't responded soon, I would have been hospitalized.

I got to my feet a little shakily, a medic's arm under my elbow. It burned where he was touching me, and I jerked free. I pointed to the guard. “You tell Crawford what happened here and that I'll pay him to let me bond with my guide. You tell him that if he values his skin, he'd better take that offer.”

I walked away, ignoring the demands of the medics to let them check me again.

I hated feeling so vulnerable. It was the part of being a sentinel that had always put me off, so that I'd preferred to take the suppressants instead of being with a guide. Until I'd met Blair. He'd changed everything. I had to bond with him soon, or the zones and spikes would end up pushing me into a coma.

I returned to my vehicle and just sat there, unsure what my next step should be. I was halfway considering hi-jacking the transport that would bring Blair back to this complex from Hannity's residence.

Simon would have my balls if I tried it, but I was getting to the point that I didn't care.

I asked Blair for an update and he told me he was still at Hannity's place. With an effort, I told myself to hold out a while longer. If I stormed into the judge's house, he'd have me up on charges so fast my head would spin, and then I wouldn't be free to help Blair if he needed me.

If I could only find him on the spirit plane, it would help. Maybe tonight would be more successful than the other times I'd searched for him.

I went to the infirmary at work, and the doctor gave me some creams to sooth the red, itchy splotches on my skin. Simon called me into his office and set the room to the highest security level.

“Sit down, Jim. I wanted to update you. Blair's holo has been made available to those clients who pay Crawford for the services of his 'employees.' Crawford isn't tied directly to the brothel, but we've traced the business back to Crawford Industries as the parent company. To the public these cash boys and girls are presented as legitimate sex-workers. We can bust them just for using the mind-wiped as prostitutes, since they are in protected care. That doesn't tie us to Kincaid, though. Still, one of our agents has picked Blair for tonight and for tomorrow evening, with a first option on him for the rest of the week. Tell Sandburg, all right? And don't bother asking; you can't take the agent's place. It's too risky.”

I knew he was right. I was known as a detective; if I tried to buy Blair on my own, I might jeopardize the mission. I had to wait till I was approached. At this point I didn't care if I did have to pay with credits or with confidential information to be with Blair.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak yet, and bought myself some extra time by passing along to Blair Simon's message. He was apprehensive, but not willing to quit the mission.

“Sir, Blair says he wants the agent to say something that clues him in that the guy is the right one. After the wrong doctor almost got his hands on him, he's a little leery of another screw-up.”

“He's got a point. All right, tell him that the agent will say that his eyes are as blue as Quyllur's oceans.”

I smiled in spite of myself. “That's very poetic of you, sir.”

Simon scowled, and I detected heat rising from his skin. I swallowed my laugh, and he pointed to the door. “Out, Detective. I've got work to do.”

He was right, though. Blair's eyes were as blue as the oceans of our adopted homeland.

xxx

“He's got pretty blue eyes, don't ya think?” I was staring at the man I was supposed to have sex with tonight. “Reminds me of the oceans on Quyllur.”

The person who was in charge, a well groomed man who'd sniffed disapprovingly at my appearance when I'd met him, made a vaguely interested noise and then busied himself with accepting payment for my ass.

I relaxed, keeping the vacuous smile on my face. I'd been sent here after my shift at Hannity's house. Once I'd been ushered through a backdoor at this brothel, I'd been sent to shower and shave. Then a flunkie had given me an enema and had shoved lube up my ass. Again, as an observer, I was fascinated that my embarrassment levels were set to zero by the hypno-treatments mimicking the effects of being mind-wiped.

I'd brushed my hair, my teeth, and dressed in a blue loose silky top that tied on the side and matching pants that would only take a small tug to let them pool around my bare feet.

The agent beckoned me close and slid an arm around my waist loosely. He twined a curl around his finger, playing with it while the desk man put the credits into a safe box. This was a pleasant place, a large mansion and not sleazy at all, on the edge of the city boundaries. It seemed too nice just to be a brothel. I wondered if it was used for anything else, conferences or meetings.

I'd seen about fifty other dollies here. Once you knew what to look for in their demeanor and facial expressions, they were easy to spot. Most of them were sitting on couches in several large living rooms or out in the garden area, perched on benches.

The agent touched my cheek, and I flinched. He frowned and examined my face carefully. “Hey. He's been hit. I can feel a bruise coming up. I don't pay to have damaged merchandise.”

The desk guy glanced at me and shrugged his shoulders. “I apologize for that. It must have happened earlier today. Do you prefer to return him for another server?”

The agent frowned. “No, I want him, bruises included. But I've booked him for tomorrow, too, and there'd better not be any new damage when I come back. This place came highly recommended. If I opt to put some color on him then I don't need somebody's work there already. You get me?”

“Again, sir, I apologize. I'll make a note of your complaint. Where would you prefer to take him?” He consulted a slave, “We have private arbors in the garden, or public ones if you would enjoy showing him off. Also, we have private bedrooms and public ones, if you prefer that option. There's a dungeon suite open, but it probably will be taken before too long.”

The agent hummed a little and eyed me up and down. “I think that I want a very private room. And I paid the full fee. I expect to be here all night. If he passes my tests, then I'll be booking him as a private companion. That means he'll be available only to me, correct? That's what I was led to believe by one of your satisfied customers.”

“Yes, sir, certainly. He's a simple fellow, though.” My hand was taken and my code shown to the agent. “Just a bastard. Most of our customers don't find them that interesting to be companions. If you are looking for someone who can handle themselves during social occasions and provide more interesting conversation, I can set up appointments with, ah, more suitable candidates.”

The agent seemed to ponder this. He smiled. “Well, I'll consider it. You may be right for the long run. For a while, though, this boy will do.”

“Sir, if I may be indelicate for a moment: your server will not be able to have an erection tonight. He may in the future, though. There are suitable substitutes for his lack in that department available in the closet for your use.” He edged out from behind the small counter in the office and started ushering us out the door. “Your room is down the hall, and I assure you it's very private and soundproofed.”

“Why can't my server get it up? Is he impotent?” I wasn't sure if his briefing had covered the reason, but for the sake of his cover it was a reasonable thing to ask.

“He's a guide and until his bond is broken with his sentinel he's unable to 'get it up' as you phrased it. It should only be a temporary problem.” We were walking down the carpeted hall, luxurious to my bare feet. I was smiling the entire time these two were discussing my dick. Surreal.

“Not a problem. I'll use his mouth or his hands or his ass. I might choose to stretch my legs later. And I can call for room service?”

“Of course, sir. Feel free to visit the public rooms and gardens. There's a walking trail that loops around the grounds. And the kitchen is excellent here; there's a menu and a courtesy comm available in each room.”

We stopped at an expensive looking door; the agent strode in and gazed around, checked in the bedside drawers, and nodded. He slid the man a tip, and the guy looked pleased for the first time since I'd met him.

“Thank you, sir. If I can be of any further assistance, the front desk number is listed on the comm.” He indicated one that sat on a small table, next to a menu, and then departed.

The agent riffled through the overnight bag he'd brought with him and motioned for me to move next to him. I did, and he showed me a tube of lip gloss. He held it up so I could see it better, and then he brought it closer to me.

“Pucker up, sweetie,” he said.

Smiling, I did, and he opened it up and twisted it. The colored gloss, a deep red, emerged and he carefully applied it to my lips. He studied the tube critically when he was done and then stepped back.

“Sorry. I had to check if there was any electronic surveillance in this room.” He waved the hand that still held the lipstick. “My name's Yusef. You can understand me but you can't communicate, according to my briefing. Not without ending the hypno-treatment. I'm taking point here, but if you go haring off I'll assume it's because you know something I don't and I'll cover you.”

He kicked off his shoes and took off his expensive outer shirt, leaving him in a thin, sleeveless undershirt. “I'm assuming that you're recording everything already. Look every mind-wiped person in this place in the eye, so we can document that they're being sent here from Crawford's complex.”

He looked briskly at me. “We need to make this believable. Here's how I see the time-line. You get undressed and rumple up the bed first, take a nap if you're tired. We stay in here for an hour, then I'll put on a robe and call for room service. When they bring in the food, you'll be on the bed, draped in the sheet. Flash them some ass, okay?” He pointed to his cheek and by the side of his mouth. “Kiss me here, let some of that stuff mark me.”

I stepped closer to him and kissed him twice, just as he'd asked. He grinned at me. “You are cute. If I wasn't working and you weren't already involved, I'd kiss you back. Oh, well. Anyway, after we eat, you go hide in the bathroom and I'll take the bed. I'll make sure they see that sex happened here. I've worked too hard on this case to blow it with inconsistencies. Then we'll take a tour of the place. Get as much evidence as we can. We'll tell the front desk to have clean sheets put on the bed and when we return, you can sleep. I'll keep watch.”

He took my hand. “Sweet ancestors' bloodlines, I hope the task force was right and you really are in there. You've got the look of the mind-wiped with that smile. One more thing. Don't panic, but I'm going to hold you skin to skin. I want you to smell like me and me like you. As I said, I don't want any details to trip us up.”

He untied my shirt and pulled it off my shoulders. Like a whisper in my mind I could feel Jim's jealousy. He wasn't doubting my commitment, but he was wishing he could change places with this agent. I wished he could, too.

Yusef skinned out of his undershirt and embraced me, and there wasn't a credit's worth of distance between us. I might not have been able to get an erection, but he had no trouble. He didn't mention it, though.

We embraced for several minutes, and then he pulled away. “Go lie down under the sheets. Get comfortable, you'll be there for a while.”

I followed his orders, like the good little dolly I was pretending to be.

Continued in Part Six