"They wouldn't..." Christel said, desperately.
"Yes they would and you know it," Megan replied. "So we have to make sure that Paul survives. You were right all along; we're here for Paul's needs. But he has more needs than the 'duty' to turn up from time to time and inseminate us. And I'm going to prove it to him."
"Go," Christel said, finally. "Try it."
"I will," Megan replied. "Shanea, Paul is in the office. Go get him. Take... Velva. Take him to the baths. Bathe him, don't let him do a thing for himself. Don't have sex with him. If he says he wants to, tell him 'not now, later, just bathe now.' Got it?"
"Give Paul a bath," Shanea nodded, gulping. "Don't have sex with him, even if he wants it. What if he really wants it?"
"Really tell him, 'later.' When you two are done, bring him to his room in a robe," she turned to Mirta. "Mirta, get Amber into her costume, then go to the kitchen door. Get a platter. Light foods. Bread, fruit, cheese, a small carafe of wine. Then bring it and Amber to Paul's room."
"Paul has... problems with Amber," Christel said. "Are you sure... ?"
"I'm sure," Megan said, looking around. "Girls, go get into your new costumes. When Paul comes through from the bath, I want you to stand up and move in around him saying nice things. Nothing important, just that we're glad he's here. Don't be suggestive. And don't try to follow him in. If this works out I'm going to keep him here for at least a couple of days."
She looked at Shanea and Mirta, then gestured. "Go."
Megan stood for a moment, pulling at her hair, then turned to Christel.
"I have things I need in the workroom," she said. "If I could..."
"Go," Christel said, "you're doing fine. I think you're right, okay? Girls, what are you doing just sitting around? Up on your feet, go get dressed..."
* * *
Megan rushed to her room and grabbed up various pots, then to the abandoned still-room. Shanea had taken to watching the bubbling substances for her but with the girl otherwise occupied Megan turned down the heat on all the crucibles, grabbed some bottles and headed for the toilet.
There were other girls in there jockeying for position in front of the mirrors but Megan shoved one of them out of the way with her hip and carefully deposited her bundles on the countertop.
"Ashly," she said, looking over at where the blonde was brushing her hair in front of a mirror. "My next-stage perfumes; they're a little more concentrated. And I need somebody to mix something for me while I do my makeup."
Ashly looked at her as if she had grown another head, then nodded.
"Okay, Karie, you do the mixing," Ashly said, walking over to look at the bottles and pots. "What is all that?"
"Perfumes, oils, massage creams," Megan said. "Karie," she continued, opening up a jar and dropping a few milliliters of oil onto the cream inside. "Mix that up for me, please?"
"What is it?" Karie asked, sniffing at the contents.
"Almond massage paste, the oil is sesame," Megan said, looking in the mirror. "I don't have time," she muttered, picking up a flat of eye shadow.
"Vita, do her hair," Ashly said. "Megan, calm down. What the hell is wrong?"
"Did you see him?" Megan asked, turning to the girl. "He looks like a zombie."
"I saw. Megan, don't tell me you're falling in love," Ashly said, smirking.
Megan closed her eyes and decided not to "explain" to Ashly the facts of life, again. But it was tempting.
"No, I'm not falling in love," Megan replied, wondering if it was a true reply or not. "But if Paul dies, all this will go away and very bad things will probably happen to us, okay? I don't want that to happen. Do you?"
"No," Ashly said. "I hadn't thought..."
"Neither had Christel," Megan replied as Vita combed her hair and Ashly took the eye makeup out of her shaking hands.
"What are you going to do?" Vita asked. She was brushing Megan's hair up and out to make it appear larger.
"I'm going to make him the one happiest son of a bitch in the world," Megan replied. "I'm going to make him never want to leave. And then I'm going to convince him that, for the good of the world, he shouldn't for a while. A few days at least. And we're going to feed him up and primp him and pamper him until he's able to take care of himself again."
"And if you can't?" Ashly asked, brushing on the makeup expertly.
"Lightly, please," Megan said. "Then we might as well all cut our own throats. Do you want to be turned over to Reyes? Or the Changed?"
"Oh, God!" Vita said.
"Right, so we'd better make him really happy," Megan said, looking in the mirror. "Got it?"
"Got it," Ashly replied.
Megan picked up the pile of cloth at her feet and put on the new "outfit" that Mirta had made for her; a bikini bottom with a long "loincloth" front and back and a tight matching top like a sleeveless shirt that completely covered her breasts except for a swelling that dropped out from the bottom. It practically begged to be pushed up.
"You look like... well you look good," Ashly said.
"You all need to get dressed, too," Megan replied. "Hurry."
She picked up the pots, nodding at Karie and Ashly and practically ran out the door.
* * *
She dropped the pots in Paul's room and then ran back to the office, getting the synopsis of all the accounts that she had prepared. She knew that Christel usually covered them with Paul but that had to stop soon, too. There were too many inconsistencies that Christel, bless her black stupid heart, wouldn't know how to explain.
She piled the reports by the pillows and then assumed a modest position and waited. Before Paul got there Mirta came in with the platter of food and Amber. As Mirta left, she settled Amber in place, positioned the tray of food and wine, with the addition of a carafe of water, which was smart thinking on Mirta's part, and settled down to wait again. She had barely had time to rearrange the pillows when she heard a murmur from the main room and the door opened up. She could see that the girls were all in their finest and as Paul came in the room she imperceptibly waved at Velva not to follow him in. The girl looked nonplussed but closed the door behind her.
"Megan," Paul said, weakly, "this is all quite unnecessary..."
"Hush," Megan said, standing up and unbelting his robe. "Lie down."
"Megan," he said, looking at the other two girls.
"Have you bedded each of us?" Megan said, pushing him down.
"Well... yes... but..."
"Hush," she replied. "No talk. No work talk, no talk at all."
She rolled him over on his stomach and positioned Shanea and Amber on either side.
"Like this," she said, taking up a fingerful of the massage cream and dabbing it on his upper arm. She took Amber's hands and pushed the thumbs into the muscle, working down the arm. "Slowly and firmly, all the way down the arm. You understand? Don't pinch."
"Down the arm," Amber said with a nod, pressing into the flesh of his triceps. "Don't pinch."
"Shanea, you do the other arm," Megan said, rubbing the cream into his back, then beginning to massage.
"Oh that feels good," Paul murmured.
"You need to take better care of yourself, Paul Bowman," Megan replied, pressing into his muscles. They were firm from work but he was so skinny. "What happens to us if you die?"
"I won't die," Paul said, starting to push up.
"Don't you dare get up," Megan said, sternly. "We've barely gotten started."
She worked his back as the other girls worked on his arms and shoulders, then the three of them worked down his legs. As they massaged he began to relax and at one point gave a faint snore. He started at that and began to rise.
"And you haven't been getting enough sleep apparently," Megan said, pushing him back down. By then they'd worked most of the way down his legs and she pushed on him to roll over. She began massaging his pectorals and nodded downward at Shanea.
Shanea looked at her with a happy grin and slid downward, taking him in her mouth.
"No, Shanea," Megan grinned. "Now lie there and enjoy."
"This isn't right," Paul said, lying back anyway. "People are starving and..."
"And if you die, who will care about them?" Megan asked. "Chansa? Celine?"
"You have a point," Paul admitted.
She slid over and propped his head in her lap, then gestured at the platter. Amber had to think about it for a moment but then her eyes lit up and she slid the platter over, taking a plum from it and offering it to Paul.
Megan picked up a loaf of bread, still warm from the ovens, and broke off a piece. As soon as Paul was finished with the plum she handed him the bread and he tore into that as if he were starving.
"Softly," she said. "Slowly. You need to build your strength back up. And I'll tell you something, Paul Bowman, you are not leaving this... building until you are looking better than when you came in. And you had better be back soon for more pampering."
"This isn't right," Paul muttered, but he also didn't try to rise.
"My neck's getting tired," Shanea admitted. "You never give me enough practice at this, Paul."
"See?" Megan said, trying not to either laugh or cry. "You've been neglecting Shanea shamelessly, forcing her to lose the best of her arts."
"Oral sex does not get babies made," Paul pointed out.
"Babies won't get made, or have a protector, if you don't take care of yourself," Megan said, ruthlessly. "Amber, can you remember... ?" She pointed to where Shanea was idly stroking at his member.
"Yes," Amber said, moving down to replace the other girl. As she started, Paul groaned and reached out a hand to her.
"Amber," he said, sadly. "Of all the things I've done, I feel the worst about you."
Worse than throwing the world into barbarism? Megan thought, surprised at the sudden intensity of her anger.
"I think she's probably happier this way," was all she said. She picked up another piece of bread as Shanea snuggled into his side.
"Sometimes the caged nightingale won't sing," Paul murmured stroking the hair of the woman who was fellating him. "Did you know she was a... friend before the Fall?"
"Like Christel?" Megan asked, neutrally.
"Yes, I care for our daughter as well. But Amber could not adjust to the confinement I had to impose on her." He looked up and back at Megan. "You seem to have adjusted well."
That's because I'm working on the key to the lock at this very moment.
"Some people can't handle change," she replied, picking up another piece of bread and feeding it to him. Shanea had slipped out of her top and was now lightly licking his chest, and he groaned again.
"Amber," he said, breathlessly.
The suit Mirta had made for the brain-drained girl covered her almost entirely, somewhat like a jumpsuit. But it was made of nearly transparent material that shifted in color and opaqueness as the light hit it, hiding and revealing in apparent randomness. It also had well-placed buttons and ties, and Amber obediently opened up the bottoms and mounted Paul.
He groaned again as she began to stroke and then came quickly.
"This is all too much," Paul said as Amber lifted herself off. Shanea picked up a cloth and wiped him clean, then ensured the job by lowering herself onto him again, working the area with her tongue, her head moving like a cat.
"This is all too much," Paul murmured again, then his head lay heavy in her lap.
Shanea looked up with an unhappy expression when she heard the snore.
"Stay here with him," Megan said, slipping his head off her lap and deftly sliding a pillow under it. "When he wakes up, send Amber to me and give him whatever he needs. No, let me make that clearer, when he wakes up, make sure he comes again, one way or another. But send Amber to me first."
She picked up the platter and stood up, walking to the door. It was only when she was through it that she realized she was the only one in the room who hadn't gotten involved in one form of sex or another and she was horrified to find herself regretting it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"How is he?" Christel asked.
"Sleeping," Megan replied. Mirta took the tray from her and she thanked the seamstress with a nod.
"He never sleeps here!" Christel said.
"He will for the next few days if I've got my ducks in a row," Megan said. "He needs the rest."
"He's supposed to be guarded when he's sleeping," Christel pointed out. "Did he ask about the accounts?"
"The accounts never came up," Megan said. "Although other things did," she added with a grin.
"He'll never stay," Christel said. "He has things to do."
"Look, when he wakes up, first he gets screwed then we feed him," Megan said, lifting her fingers in order. "We feed him heavily, lots of meat and carbohydrates; he's bound to be hungry after two bouts of sex. When he's fed, we get him to come again. Between the food and the sex he'll fall asleep again. When he wakes up again, we might have an argument out of him. But if we have to, all the girls strip naked and pile on him in a giant scrum of bodies. There's not a man on earth who will try to run away if he's got fifteen naked girls holding him down and begging him to take them."
"You have a point," Christel said with a grin of her own.
"This is really important," Megan pointed out, again.
"I know," Christel replied. "Should somebody else go in there?"
"You know anyone else who has the patience of Amber and Shanea?" Megan asked, raising her eyebrows. "Why do you think I'm not in there. It's going to be lots of fun watching him snore."
"What about guards?" Christel asked.
"What about them?" Megan shrugged. "He's got a PPF; what more does he need?"
"They don't activate automatically anymore," Christel pointed out. "He has to summon it. What if someone broke in and tried to assassinate him?"
"Who?" Megan said, exasperated. "They'd have to get through the Changed guards around the castle and then through us, which, admittedly, wouldn't be hard. But by then he'd be up and prepared. He's safe, Christel. The only person who is going to kill Paul is Paul himself. And that's what we've got to convince him not to do."
* * *
Megan was in the distillery when Amber came to get her and she hurried at once to Paul's room, pulling off the robe she'd used to cover her outfit as she went.
When she entered Shanea was already fellating him, stroking up and down hard. Paul looked up in annoyance as the door opened and then in something like shame when he saw who it was.
"I don't like being watched," he said, his face wrinkling up in worry.
"Then why don't I join in?" Megan said, stripping off the panties of her outfit and pushing Shanea aside as she slid onto him.
"Hey, mine," Shanea said, jokingly.
"Later maybe," Megan said, sliding up and down on him. Fortunately he'd been premoistened and she found herself rapidly lubricating the area. After a short time she rolled over and pulled him onto her, grabbing his buttocks and digging her fingernails in. He pumped at her hard and rapidly and, as always, came a bit too soon.
"I need to go," Paul said, getting to his feet.
"Not until you've had something to eat," Megan said, gesturing at his robe. Shanea obediently picked it up and put it on him.
"Come on out in the common room," Megan said. "The rest of the girls want to see you, too."
She cleaned up, put on her bottoms and led him out into the common room, settling him on some pillows with girls on either side. The she went to the dining room, dragging Shanea with her.
"Marlene," she called from beyond the doorway. She had already determined that a field extended out for at least a meter into the dining room. If one of the harem girls moved into the field she got a very unpleasant pain jolt. She wondered if it extended to the other side of the doorway as well. If not, it might be possible to throw yourself through the field. On the other hand, she had no intention of trying to find out.
"You rang?" Marlene said, coming through the door with a tray covered by a silver lid.
"Thank God," Megan said, taking the tray.
"And I've made up another with cakes and other goodies so the girls can eat, too," Marlene said as a servant came through the doorway. "He might not if they don't have anything."
"Thank you," Megan said, nodding at Shanea to take the second tray.
John Ringo - Council Wars 02 - Emerald Sea Page 50
