Laricon's Ways

by Patricia Green

  He turned to Walker. "Ed, why don't you take the Governor on a tour of our facilities for training women and girls at The Farm. I'm sure that will alleviate his concern about how to wrest cooperation from his population."

  Walker smiled. "Of course."

  Michael smiled and nodded at all the gentlemen present, then left. He went directly to his office and sat heavily in his chair.

  Though he was taunt as a bowstring, being a manipulative bastard came to him easier than he liked. His father had been a manipulative bastard, too. Maybe it was a genetic thing.

  It looked like Ganymede and its nine habitation domes were going to become the country Laricon after all, and he, Michael O'Malley, defender of freedom and the Solarian Federation, would have a great big hand in it. He shook his head. Life sure had some bizarre twists and turns.

  ***

  It wasn't until hours later that he was reminded by Sandra to go home and change for the formal dinner. He was stopped twice in the hallways by free men as he walked along. There was always some issue or other that needed attention, especially now that he was sitting in for The Great Man.

  But finally he made it to his door. He was welcomed lovingly by both women. Alyssa had already set out his evening attire. Nina had prepared his shaving utensils. They both worked at massaging his stiff muscles. All-in-all, he was treated royally and felt invigorated by the time he was dressed and ready to go out again.

  Nina was still quiet, maybe feeling jealous again about not being able to get out of the room.

  "Honey," he said, kissing her on the forehead, "you find these exhibitions disgusting. You've said so."

  She chewed on a nail and darted her eyes from his. "Yeah, well, I don't belong to The Great Man anymore, sir."

  Michael rolled his eyes. "Oh, the fickleness of women!" he teased.

  She thunked him on the chest lightly. "This from a man with a fucking permanent ménage a trois!"

  "Master's prerogative, brat." He caught her wrist as she turned away, his eyes pinning hers. "And who am I?"

  "The Master, sir," she said softly.

  He pulled her closer. "Who's master, brat?"

  "My Master, sir," she answered in a whisper.

  He tilted her face up and kissed her hard. "And don't you forget it."

  "Parts of me remember better than others, sir," was her tart reply.

  He laughed.

  Chapter 14

  Alyssa and Michael left shortly thereafter. Alyssa was stunning at her place just to the left and behind him, a tiny jewel in contrast to his tall, broad maleness.

  Marsh was late for the dinner, but arrived before someone had to be sent for him. A lovely woman sat to his left and fed him with her fingers, but he ate sparingly. He joined the conversation easily, but without much enthusiasm. His eyes were carefully watching the women as they performed the service.

  "Let me ask you something, my dear," he said, turning to the woman serving him. "Wouldn't you rather be free from this subjugation?"

  The beautiful young brunette looked at him wide eyed, then at Michael at the other end of the table. Michael nodded subtly. "I am not subjugated, sir," she responded.

  "But are you not forced to perform these duties for the men? Wouldn't you rather be out, oh, I don't know, programming computers or teaching children?"

  She laughed lightly. "Oh no, sir! Here I am well cared for and carefree. And someday, gods willing, I will teach children. My own children. Given to me in joining one of the great and important men of the palace. Is this not how any woman would chose to live?"

  Marsh stared into her eyes for a long moment. "Your innocence is enchanting, my dear." He turned back to the table. "I have a daughter about her age. She races skid-flyers. I can't imagine her accepting this … this … oppression."

  Walker addressed Marsh's concern as several of the gentlemen at the table laughed lightly. "Was she ever given the choice of serving a generous man versus taking on a dangerous occupation?"

  Marsh sputtered slightly. "Well, no, I don't suppose so. There have been boyfriends, of course, but they expected her to pull her own weight, of course. Work and earn credits."

  Walker nodded. "We have no such expectation of our women."

  Sams interrupted. "Our women have little or no pressure. They are taught the little rituals, like serving food as they are doing tonight. Some of them learn from a very early age."

  Marsh nodded. "Yes, I saw your Farm dome."

  "Right," Walker commented. "You even met my daughters there. Did they seem unhappy to you?"

  "No. I can't say that they did. They were very mannerly and good natured, in fact."

  "All the councilmen's children are brought up in The Farm dome, along with other children whose fathers can afford to pay for their place there," Liebmann explained. "But the general population of women and girls are raised in a family setting, just like you do it, Governor Marsh. It's just that the household is male-centered."

  "Hmm. And what about women with children whose father is irresponsible and doesn't pay for their upkeep?"

  Sams smiled. "We have very few of those. And men who behave that way are tracked down. They lose their status as free men. The women are given over to households who will care for them and their children."

  "I see," he considered. "Men often take more than one … er…"

  "Wife, Governor," Michael supplied with a smile. "In the general population they are referred to as wives. Here in the palace, and among a few richer households, they're referred to as consorts." Alyssa offered him his cup. He sipped and continued. "But yes, many men take more than one wife. Our population is small and we encourage large families in order to increase the population. We have the resources to support it."

  "Why the different nomenclature? Wives versus consorts."

  Councilman Donaldson answered that one. "Here in the palace there are a few extra women, just in case a man wants a little something different. Our social mores do not prohibit that. So the women that we chose to put in our household are consorts. The extra women are spares."

  "I have two consorts right now," Walker said. "So does Donaldson, and Fisk over there. But if even those two are not satisfactory for some reason, I can always call for a spare to come to my chamber."

  "Frequently though," Michael went on, "Spares become our consorts, like my Alyssa here."

  Marsh flushed as he gazed at Alyssa. "Interesting." He tasted a bit of fruit off his woman's fingers distractedly. "So this woman, here," he said, indicating his lovely brunette. "Is a spare?"

  "Yes," Walker answered. "We actually brought two girls from The Farm to serve you tonight. We thought you'd prefer freshness to experience."

  Marsh blinked. "Two? Fresh?"

  Most of the men laughed lightly. "That's right," Michael said. "This pretty brunette is one, and there will be an equally pretty young blonde for you in the ballroom for after dinner entertainment."

  "Saw to it myself," Walker beamed.

  Liebman grinned. "Walker's our resident expert. He's just sent his third consort back to The Farm to have a baby. It'll be his sixth child. We only allow the women to bear four for health reasons. They're not brood mares, after all."

  "No, no, of course not," Marsh muttered. "So, once a consort has four children, she's retired and you pick another one … or two."

  "Exactly," Michael agreed. "A free man can have whatever he can support financially."

  Marsh rubbed his face and gulped at the wine offered to him. "I suppose there's precedent for it in the old religions."

  There was general agreement.

  The topic changed to more general philosophy and desert was served. Marsh seemed more gregarious now, and more comfortable.

  When dessert was over and liqueur served, Michael suggested they go to the special art exhibit that had been set up in Governor Marsh's honor. Agreeing, all the gentlemen and their women trooped down the congress way to the palace gallery.

  There were the usual groupings of fin
e paintings, some craftworks and textiles, well done sculptures of all sorts and leaning toward the erotic as they moved down the gallery. At the end, though, Marsh stopped and gasped. The statuary was alive! Lovely women and several young men, their bodies painted to resemble stone, marble or clay, were displayed in various stationary erotic poses.

  As he watched, a faint tone sounded and the poses were changed. He was particularly fascinated by a pose with a sign titled "Friction," which was two women lying face to face, each with a slender thigh pressed against the other's womanhood.

  Marsh looked somewhat dumbstruck as he was led in the center of the group out of the gallery and into the ballroom. As promised, a buxom teenage blonde was kneeling, baring her pink-tipped breasts when the Governor walked into the room. After a few more glasses of wine, the Governor relaxed into it and the girls went to work disrobing him for an all-over-body massage, and more.

  In Laricon's absence, Michael and Alyssa were to take the lead couch this evening. He bade her to wait for him there while he spent a few minutes talking and joking with each councilman personally, Walker last.

  Sally was massaging Walker's feet as he sat on his couch contentedly. "So far, so good," he told Michael.

  "Yes, I think so," Michael agreed.

  "How's the … um ... you know … the baggage?"

  Michael smiled. "A great deal of trouble, but frequently worth it."

  Walker laughed uproariously. Sally moved to massage his shoulders. "The off-world ones are like that. But I'll be ready to add her to the rest of the Mars shipment tomorrow anyway."

  Sally moved to Michael's shoulders, slipping off his jacket. She massaged his hard, tense muscles with a firm hand. "She's not going, Walker."

  Walker peaked a black eyebrow, his dark eyes surprised. "Are you crazy, O'Malley?"

  Michael shrugged into Sally's hands. "Maybe. I've got your credits though. You won't be out anything."

  Sally moved back to Walker, and the black man closed his eyes at her touch. "I ain't so worried about me. But if The Great Man finds out, you're bait."

  "Yeah, I'm working that out," Michael assured him.

  "I know what I'd do, O'Malley," Walker confided. "Get her good and pregnant. He ain't gonna be nearly as pissed if you're furthering his goals like that."

  "Uh … that's pretty much what I thought," he lied. "Great minds think alike, eh?"

  Walker smiled as Michael got up. "Just keep me out of it, O'Malley."

  "I don't even know you, man."

  "By the way, you got a fire burning over there," he tilted his chin toward Michael's couch across the room.

  Michael sighed. Alyssa was sharing a deep kiss with a pale young woman with dark red hair. "Aw, shit."

  Walker laughed uproariously. "Have fun!"

  Michael strolled back, irritated. Alyssa was generally much better behaved than this. "Alyssa!"

  She dropped down to the floor and bared her breasts, as did her red-haired friend. The redhead was exquisite, her hair nearly waist-length, her figure curvy, her breasts firm and topped with wide pink areolas and darker pink nipples.

  "What are you doing?"

  Alyssa looked up in confusion. "Greeting my sister, sir."

  It was Michael's turn to blush. "Your sister? That's how you greet your sister?"

  Alyssa frowned. "Should I not have greeted her, sir?"

  "Yes … ur, no," he sputtered. "Oh hell." He sat down. "What's your sister's name?"

  "This is Naomi, sir," Alyssa supplied, indicating the redhead who was still in the subservient position, eyes downcast.

  "Look up at me, Naomi," he said.

  Her eyes were crystal blue and she blushed shyly. "Yes, sir." Her voice was very like Alyssa's, soft and lilting.

  He could tell by her demeanor that she was fresh from The Farm. "So, what are you doing here?"

  "I – I was chosen, with others, to entertain the council tonight, sir."

  "Naomi is a year older than I, sir. She stayed on The Farm to learn advanced sewing, but now she's here at the Palace. Isn't that grand, sir?" Alyssa beamed, moving over to squeeze her sister in a bear hug.

  "Yes, I suppose it is. Certainly, you can visit each other this way."

  Alyssa looked up at him slyly. "I was hoping maybe you would–"

  He saw where she was going immediately. "Nope. I'm just managing to get you and … the other … to get along. And what makes you think I have the energy for three of you?"

  Alyssa's strawberry blonde brows pushed together. "Well, I was thinking, sir, that soon enough one of us would be back on The Farm. Birthing. And if you had three, then you'd most likely always have two around to care for you while one was at The Farm. See, sir?"

  He laughed heartily. "Oh, you have it all figured out, don't you, berry girl." She blushed. "You'll have me fathering babies every other month if I let you."

  "You're a councilman, sir. You're rich!"

  He grinned. "Don't be impertinent, Alyssa. You're already on punishment for this morning's misbehavior." Her eyes went down submissively. "And for such a rich powerful guy, I'm sure being neglected." He indicated all the other men who were being touched and fondled, or were doing their own touching and fondling.

  "Oh!"

  Immediately Alyssa signaled her sister and the two undressed Michael, replacing his garments with kisses. "Disrobe," he told them.

  They removed their silky garments, folded and put them aside. Naked, side by side, he could see more of the resemblance between the two, but Alyssa was definitely the more petite and her hair was several shades lighter.

  "Come kiss me, Alyssa," he suggested, "and Naomi, let's see how well you can give head." Alyssa's mouth was warm and comfortable with his. He knew how tender she was and how to bring out the more aggressive side of her. He put a hand on her head, wrapping her silky hair around his fist while they kissed.

  Naomi was beautiful, but shy about applying her mouth to Michael's desirable staff. He broke the kiss with Alyssa to instruct Naomi a little, guiding her head with a big hand as he spoke. "Lick it like you want to gobble it down, Naomi," he suggested. "Not like it's made of sugar and will melt. I assure you it won't." Her strokes lengthened some. "That's better. Now around the head. No, no, slowly, honey. Slower still." Alyssa petted Naomi's back encouragingly. "Much better. In your mouth, like a fruit." He cringed. "Watch your teeth!" He sighed deeply as she adjusted. "Okay, honey. Suck gently. Gently. Mmmmm. Good." He and Alyssa exchanged a quick look and she blushed, embarrassed on her sister's behalf. He petted Alyssa to let her know he didn't hold her responsible for her sister's poor training. "Now out of the mouth and lick again, up and down, up and down." He was almost enjoying it, though it was a lot of effort. "Okay, back in your mouth. Careful. Careful. Now deeper as you suck. That's good. Up and down a little faster now." Her rhythm was odd, but she was getting it. Michael pulled Alyssa down for another deep, long kiss.

  "All right, Naomi, you can stop. Alyssa, climb on and ride me. Naomi, come let me see if you're a berry girl, too."

  "That means kneel over his face, Naomi. It feels good. You'll like it."

  Michael laughed. "Thank you for the testimonial, Alyssa."

  Alyssa slid him deep into her softness and began to ride, her strokes practiced and perfect. Naomi fumbled into position over his face and trembled as he grasped her round bottom and pulled her downward. "Alyssa's not allowed to feel good tonight," he told her. "So you do all the feeling good for her. Okay, honey?"

  Her voice was timorous. "Yes, sir. Oh!"

  He licked at the top of her red-furred pubic cleft. "Hold yourself open for me, Naomi. Let me see how pretty and pink you are inside." His voice was deepening as Alyssa rocked him deeply into her body and then drew him slowly out.

  Naomi did as instructed, her fingers white knuckled with trepidation. "Mm-hmm," he murmured. "Pretty and pink and wet."

  Naomi's face grew red, the blush traveling down to her breasts, but she closed her eyes as his tongue dabbled at her wet
center and then licked outward to suck on first one labial lip and then the other. She was gasping as he explored.

  Alyssa's clever hips and tight sheath were having their effect on Michael. His pelvis came up on her down-strokes, driving his shaft deeper into her well. Her hands were moving on her breasts until Michael noticed and gave her a light smack on the thigh. Immediately her hands fell.

  He sucked at Naomi's moisture and moved to her clit. She immediately began moaning and squirming her bottom in his hands. It was a little hard to keep her in place, but Michael managed, gripping her buttocks firmly.

  Closer and closer to the little death Michael traveled as Alyssa rode him. Wetter and wetter, Naomi bobbed over Michael's face. He paused only long enough to say, "Faster, Alyssa," then returned to bring Naomi spiraling in toward the fall.

  Alyssa obeyed, her hips working magic, her tightness holding him while she rubbed his tender head back and forth inside her body. It was exquisite. "Yes, honey," he murmured, his breath hot on Naomi's swollen clit. "I'm going to fill ... you ... now!"

  His groan made Alyssa's belly quiver with lusty joy. Once again, she had given him pleasure. She was swollen and anxious, her body aching for more, but he gave her his seed and then his hips calmed and she knew she was to cease.

  His mouth went back to Naomi, though he was gasping at first. She writhed immediately when he took her clit between his lips and sent his tongue whirling quickly. Her moans grew more frequent, then louder, until she gasped and cried out, "Ohhhh!" and came for the first time in her life, pulsing sweet wetness down over his chin.

  Michael grabbed her waist as she swayed above him and scrambled to catch her as she fell forward in a faint.

  Alyssa was worried, of course, coming off him and the couch immediately as he squirmed out from underneath the unconscious young woman. As Michael laid Naomi gently on the couch and propped her feet up to get blood back into her brain, he heard chortling from Liebmann's couch nearby.

  He sent an irritated look Liebmann's way, but the General just grinned and went back to drinking his wine, Crystal lounging at his side. "They're all going to beg for it, O'Malley," Liebmann teased. "You'll wear your tongue out if you aren't careful. And give the rest of us a bad reputation to boot!" He laughed with delight.