in the vast, still
nothing that was space. How did he handle it? No trees, no sky. A thought
struck her. “How’d you manage having sex?”
Raj shrugged and made a gesture in the air. “As well as possible, given the circumstances.”
“Who with?”
“The women.”
Women? Backusian women? No one had ever mentioned they were
on the planet.
“Are there women at the Body House?”
He hesitated. Jane got ready to withdraw the question.
“There are,” he finally said. “Not in sexual service. And we like to keep their
presence quiet.” He gave her a thoughtful glance.
Jane snapped the thread and checked the cross-work patch
over the tear before examining the other. “They won’t hear it from me.” She
mumbled this around the needle in her mouth.
“We’re quite protective of our women. Perhaps
too much so. The thought of their mistreatment is unbearable. And in the
given climate, we’re all glad few people know about the presence of Backusian
women here on Earth.”
Jane nodded, cast around for something else to talk about. Raj
poured a bit of batter in the pan. He watched it sizzle and reached down to
lower the heat.
“There were seventy-two of us on the Diam Da . Thirty men, all future Bods although unchristened with the
name as yet, and forty-two women. Eight of the women were the craft’s crew.
They’ve gone home now, of course. The others came to Earth with us for
scholarship. Purely observational scholarship, I hasten to add. No one’s
experimenting on anyone.” He paused, monitoring the contents of the skillet.
“So while in space and while the Body House was building up its clientele, they
were amenable for play. Likewise of course. We all
look out for one another still.”
“So for those two years in space, did you have sex with one
of them, or all of them?”
The look he gave her said she’d asked a startlingly stupid
question. “All of them, of course.”
“Of course.” Jane went back to her
mending. “How many women have you had sex with?”
“Thousands.” Raj flipped the
pancakes. She sensed that they’d be brown and fluffy and delicious. She also
recognized she wasn’t very hungry, which was weird given how little she’d been
eating.
“A thousand women.”
“Thousands,” he corrected. “I’ve been in service nearly
thirty years.”
“Thirty years?” Now that was shocking. Jane fit the needle
in its sheath and stared at him. “Did you start when you were still a kid?”
“Sixteen,” he said. “Or thereabouts. Time is very hard to calculate outside the galaxy. I’ve tried to factor in for
differences, but it’s so irritating, I’d rather believe it isn’t worth the
trouble. In any case, I was full grown before I started, and I’ve been in
service quite some time.”
“How many thousands?” Four more
pancakes were stacked on the platter. He poured out more batter and stepped
back to give that one some thought. Jane smoothed her hands over the
stitched-up pants and set them down. “Five hundred a year would be a
conservative estimate,” he said. “Times thirty would be…” He looked at her.
“Fifteen thousand.” Even she could
do that math.
“Is that too many?”
“No.” Jane shrugged. If a man was going to
stick his cock into lots of strangers, why not fifteen thousand of them? She glanced up at his body one more time. He had the muscled chest of an
outdoorsman, but those muscles weren’t from splitting logs. Instead, his body
had been hewn by all the countless repetitions needed to fuck women into
screaming climaxes. One after the other, boom boom boom, day after day. No
ranch-hand stuff, just opening women’s thighs and fucking them until they came.
What could that be like? She wondered if he made it all as pleasurable as what
he’d done to her.
The fire under the skillet went off. Another four pancakes
were lifted out onto the platter.
“Have you ever hurt anyone?”
He set the platter down and took the chair beside her.
“Hurt
nothing that was space. How did he handle it? No trees, no sky. A thought
struck her. “How’d you manage having sex?”
Raj shrugged and made a gesture in the air. “As well as possible, given the circumstances.”
“Who with?”
“The women.”
Women? Backusian women? No one had ever mentioned they were
on the planet.
“Are there women at the Body House?”
He hesitated. Jane got ready to withdraw the question.
“There are,” he finally said. “Not in sexual service. And we like to keep their
presence quiet.” He gave her a thoughtful glance.
Jane snapped the thread and checked the cross-work patch
over the tear before examining the other. “They won’t hear it from me.” She
mumbled this around the needle in her mouth.
“We’re quite protective of our women. Perhaps
too much so. The thought of their mistreatment is unbearable. And in the
given climate, we’re all glad few people know about the presence of Backusian
women here on Earth.”
Jane nodded, cast around for something else to talk about. Raj
poured a bit of batter in the pan. He watched it sizzle and reached down to
lower the heat.
“There were seventy-two of us on the Diam Da . Thirty men, all future Bods although unchristened with the
name as yet, and forty-two women. Eight of the women were the craft’s crew.
They’ve gone home now, of course. The others came to Earth with us for
scholarship. Purely observational scholarship, I hasten to add. No one’s
experimenting on anyone.” He paused, monitoring the contents of the skillet.
“So while in space and while the Body House was building up its clientele, they
were amenable for play. Likewise of course. We all
look out for one another still.”
“So for those two years in space, did you have sex with one
of them, or all of them?”
The look he gave her said she’d asked a startlingly stupid
question. “All of them, of course.”
“Of course.” Jane went back to her
mending. “How many women have you had sex with?”
“Thousands.” Raj flipped the
pancakes. She sensed that they’d be brown and fluffy and delicious. She also
recognized she wasn’t very hungry, which was weird given how little she’d been
eating.
“A thousand women.”
“Thousands,” he corrected. “I’ve been in service nearly
thirty years.”
“Thirty years?” Now that was shocking. Jane fit the needle
in its sheath and stared at him. “Did you start when you were still a kid?”
“Sixteen,” he said. “Or thereabouts. Time is very hard to calculate outside the galaxy. I’ve tried to factor in for
differences, but it’s so irritating, I’d rather believe it isn’t worth the
trouble. In any case, I was full grown before I started, and I’ve been in
service quite some time.”
“How many thousands?” Four more
pancakes were stacked on the platter. He poured out more batter and stepped
back to give that one some thought. Jane smoothed her hands over the
stitched-up pants and set them down. “Five hundred a year would be a
conservative estimate,” he said. “Times thirty would be…” He looked at her.
“Fifteen thousand.” Even she could
do that math.
“Is that too many?”
“No.” Jane shrugged. If a man was going to
stick his cock into lots of strangers, why not fifteen thousand of them? She glanced up at his body one more time. He had the muscled chest of an
outdoorsman, but those muscles weren’t from splitting logs. Instead, his body
had been hewn by all the countless repetitions needed to fuck women into
screaming climaxes. One after the other, boom boom boom, day after day. No
ranch-hand stuff, just opening women’s thighs and fucking them until they came.
What could that be like? She wondered if he made it all as pleasurable as what
he’d done to her.
The fire under the skillet went off. Another four pancakes
were lifted out onto the platter.
“Have you ever hurt anyone?”
He set the platter down and took the chair beside her.
“Hurt
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