Going, GoneChapter 8 free porn video

"Welcome to 'Escalate'," smiled the hostess, "the restaurant of 'The Whorehouse.' We have a short presentation for those of you who have not yet visited. Since this is our first night, that includes all of you. Right this way, please."

The hostess led them into a parlor. The walls were richly colored and nicely decorated. A chandelier provided soft, warm light. A large Persian rug took up much of the floor. The remainder was gleaming hardwood. A number of sofas and overstuffed chairs formed a ring. Along one wall was a staffed and fully stocked but small bar. "We will wait until a few more people join us before we begin the presentation," said the nicely dressed hostess. "While we wait, would you care for a beverage?"

A sponsor and his two concubines were already present in the room. All were well dressed. The announcement of the opening of the restaurant had indicated that dress should be 'fancy' but not necessarily 'formal'. Katherine Adams wore a Little Black Dress and three-inch heels. Melanie Dobbs, Katherine's high school friend, wore a sundress. Chrystal Adams, Mary Tanner and Jocelyn Van Meter no longer looked much older than their sponsor but still dressed more conservatively, two in print dresses and one in a skirt and blouse. Joe Tanner wore an oxford shirt, a sport coat and trousers. Jocelyn's two children were also nicely dressed.

The hostess supplied the beverage orders to the bartender and then excused herself to watch the front door. As the bartender delivered drinks from a tray, the hostess returned with another sponsor with one concubine. She guided them to the bar and then moved to the center of the room. "This is, after all, a restaurant," she told the group. "I won't hold you long, but we need some introduction to our concept. If you will find seats for yourselves, I will begin." Soon all of the guests were seated.

"We're in mixed company," the smiling hostess continued. "Among you here are sponsors, concubines and children. Men and women. In deference to our mixed group, my language will be somewhat circumspect. After you have thought about what I tell you, you may ask follow-up questions of any of our staff, or speak with the AI.

"As you know, over two dozen of us unassigned concubines made the journey with you to Aphrodite. You probably also know that, on most colonies, the home of the unassigned concubines is known as a brothel. The idea that we would sit around our home, waiting for a random visit and a chance hook-up didn't appeal to us. Like you, on Earth we all had jobs, homes, families and friends. We are real people. We don't mind our concubine status, but we didn't want to be further ostracized and discriminated against. We want to be an integral part of the community. We want to have fun. We want you, our guests and our neighbors, to have fun as well.

"We decided to embrace and celebrate what we really are. We are whores. Welcome again to 'The Whorehouse'.

"There are several elements of 'The Whorehouse.' The bakery and coffee shop we call 'Jugs'. You will have to visit to discover why. The sights and activities in 'Jugs' are ... rated 'PG', if you will ... no more blatant than is allowed everywhere in public. It is, however, more risqué, more fun. The bakery -- and John Davis, the baker -- were transplanted from Edgar, Washington, the home of almost all of the residents of this township. There is a strip club, the name of which has not revealed itself to us yet. Also yet unnamed are the nightclub, which will feature dancing, and also something in the nature of a tavern, with pool tables, darts and probably its fair share of bawdy goings-on.

"There is, of course, the main event, the namesake of 'The Whorehouse. We are trying our best to anticipate and fulfill the fantasies of our patrons, male and female. If you want a plain roll in the sack, you can get that at home. The fantasies of men are legendary, but women have fantasies, too. I will share one aspect: everyone has heard of zero gravity sex, but nobody knows any details. Come on in. Bring your own partner, or choose one of us. We hope the zero gravity room will be popular, and we ask that you not be very specific about your experience when you tell your friends. We have many fantasy scenes set up that we think our patrons will enjoy. We really need to know what fantasy you're thinking about when you visit, so we can see it fulfilled. As in Las Vegas, what goes on here, stays here. Your fantasies are safe with us."

Jocelyn's children were beginning to fidget. The female bartender knelt before the children but looked to Jocelyn for permission. "If you like, I have some novel pastimes to entertain these two while you listen. Would that be alright?"

Jocelyn turned her head toward Katherine, her sponsor, wordlessly seeking direction. Katherine first shrugged indecisively but quickly followed with a nod and smile. Jocelyn turned to face the bartender. "That would be nice," she said softly.

Turning her attention to the children, the bartender produced a deck of cards. "Do you like card tricks?" she asked as she fanned the cards in front of them. The kids had seen their mother's permission and they nodded vigorously to the bartender's question. She stood and guided them to the two barstools that had been under the lip of the bar surface. As she returned to her place behind the bar, a slight shimmering in the air announced that a sound barrier had been established.

Satisfied, Jocelyn returned her attention to the hostess.

"Last but not least is 'Escalate', our fine dining area," the hostess resumed. "We want to play with tensions, tensions between men and women, tensions between family and strangers, tensions between the morality you grew up with against the reality of colony life, tensions between your reptile brain and your cerebrum. You ladies have all watched a man undress you with his eyes. You gentlemen have all ogled a bold, beautiful woman.

"Back on Earth, ladies, there was a very real risk that a woman would lure away your man. Women slut-shamed each other into keeping behavior within strict bounds. There was a real danger that a woman would be forced to deliver that which she merely suggested with her actions, words, clothes, or mere location. There was a real possibility that a woman might come home carrying another man's baby, or at least his spend. Men had their own ways to order and restrain each other. Here on Aphrodite, those concerns do not exist. There are no sexually transmitted diseases. There are no pregnancies without the express permission of sponsors. Concubines are property, and may not be used by others without the consent of sponsors. Still, the morality, the mind-set, which we grew up with, does not vanish instantly. The tension between what your conscience says you should do, and what your mind knows that you can do, is part of what we mean to play with."

The hostess held her hand out just in front of her chest, palm up. A tiny ball appeared, hovering above her hand, softly lit. "This is a drone. There are lots of drones in the colony, but you don't usually see them. The drones in 'Escalate' can be controlled by you." Two more drones appeared near the first before all three drifted away, still gently lit. "You may send the drones away from your table. You may intensify the light on the drones near you, or you may turn the lights off. The drones have cameras." On the coffee table in front of the guests, a previously innocuous small pyramid with glass sides and brass edges lit up, revealing it to be something of a monitor with screens visible on three sides. The drones approached the pyramid, their images seemingly reflected on the screens. Then the drones turned and the screens showed three images of the room. One of the drones drifted up and over the shoulder of the hostess.

"Women choose their blouses carefully, knowing full well what will be revealed and what concealed." The image on all three of the pyramid screens showed the hostess's shoulder, the spaghetti strap leading down to the hem across her chest, only the very tops of her breasts exposed. "A woman knows almost instinctively that she can keep her shoulders back, preserving her modesty. A woman knows when someone wishes that he could look down her blouse. She knows, if she wants to, that hunching her shoulders opens the gap between the fabric and her breasts." Her actions followed her words, and the screens showed a top-down view to her now-exposed nipples.

"A woman knows," the hostess said as a drone approached the single concubine who had arrived last, "when the man across the way wishes he could see under her skirt." The view on the three screens showed the woman's knees from a few feet away and at a modest angle. "She might be indifferent, and keep her knees pressed together." As she spoke, the drone approached at knee-level, still at a modest angle, as the image of her knees on the pyramid grew larger. "She may wish to encourage the man, and relax her knees a bit. She may turn her knees away from the man and part her knees, telling him that there is a view to be had but that he can't have it." Now the drone was close to the woman, one knee in the center of the pyramid screens and only a few inches of the inside of the other knee exposed. Slowly, the drone moved until it was directly between the woman's knees. With a shudder, the woman parted her knees slightly before quickly snapping them tightly shut. The group chuckled.

"Men ogle women," said the hostess, "but women do not let themselves be caught ogling men." The images on the pyramid switched to a close-up view of Joe's trouser crotch, his erection quite visible. Seeing the pyramid image, Joe instinctively covered himself with his hands. "Still," the hostess said, "women know how to look a man in the eye while taking in his junk." More chuckles.

"This, then, is some of the tension we want to play with, to share with you, our guests. Concubines have been nude -- naked -- for weeks. Sponsors have been dressed or nude, by their own choice. Only recently have concubines been allowed to be clothed in public. It should mean nothing to part your knees for the world to see. It should be nothing to let others see your hard-on. But it's not nothing. It is embarrassing, and exciting.

"One of the 'Escalate' dining rooms is and always will be for guests with children present. The activities will be child-appropriate, if whimsical. The food and beverage will be as excellent as elsewhere in the restaurant. The next room up the ladder we call 'Virgins, ' for those of you new to 'Escalate' and getting the hang of how things work. We ask that you start out visiting 'Escalate' with your bodies covered. 'Covered' does not necessarily mean 'concealed.' As your comfort level rises and you see what others are prepared to do, we will invite the bolder parties into additional rooms, each progressively less inhibited. You do not have to participate. Again, you can dismiss the drones from around your table. You can increase their brightness, the better to keep an eye on their location. You can turn off their illumination, letting them go where they will invisibly.

"The images on the pyramid on your table will switch periodically to different drone feeds from around the room," she told them as she approached the pyramid. "If," she said as she reached in with her thumb and index finger and 'pulled' the image, which became a hologram hovering over the coffee table, "you appreciate the drape of Katherine's dress over her braless breast, you may have a larger look." Katherine flinched but forced herself to relax. "Her nipples are quite prominent, aren't they?" After a moment, a wave of her hand sent the hologram away.

The hostess stood and briefly looked over the group. "It is one thing to wonder whether the woman is wearing anything under her dress. It is more fun to know that she is not." She reached her hands up just behind her hips, revealing that her skirt was slit on both sides all the way to her waistband. "It is way hotter when she announces so," as her thong panties came down her legs and she stepped out of them, "by placing her panties in plain sight on the table." She dropped the thong onto the coffee table beside the pyramid.

"We must caution you. Women have fantasies. Some fantasies can be acted out in the privacy of your bedroom. Some fantasies you cannot physically fulfill yourself, such as double penetration or a gang-bang. Some fantasies are a great turn-on in her mind, but would do lasting damage if they were ever actually fulfilled. Rape by a stranger comes to mind. Your concubines must obey you. Whatever you let her do, or make her do in 'Escalate, ' you both have to live with. Be careful."

"You asked to be informed as soon as it was determined whether your son would be a sponsor," the AI intoned.

"Is his CAP test finished already?"

"No," answered the AI, "the test will continue for approximately thirty minutes. However, it is certain that his final score will not reach volunteer level."

"Acknowledged."

The boy stepped into the corridor and found his father calmly waiting for him. Startled, he didn't know what to say.

"Did you do well?" the father asked hopefully.

"Well," the boy replied, "over six is good, I guess. Under six point five is not so good." Tears began to well up in the young man's eyes. He gratefully stepped into his father's bear hug. They stood there for a long while as the youngster regained control of himself.

"I think this is the part where you say, 'I told you so'," the boy said softly.

"You know I don't do that," Dad replied. "I'm proud to have you as my son. I'm proud that you've done well on your first CAP test. I don't doubt you will be able to volunteer sometime in the future, probably in the near future. Come on, let's go get a snack. We can talk about your next steps."

The dad set a slow pace. The two ambled along in amiable silence. The dad's sub-vocalized request caused the transporter to shift them to an unfamiliar common area, providing some time for the two to be together alone. Dad guided them to a replicator and ordered two glasses of root beer. They settled into chairs in an otherwise empty area. Both were quiet for a time.

The boy took a deep breath and forcefully blew it out. "You told me to bear down," he said. "I thought I was. My grades were good. I was on the football team, and I got some playing time."

Dad snorted, smiling. "You know I love you and support you, Son, but don't fool yourself. You were coasting." The boy groaned. "You were growing up, trying to get used to your growing body, learning how to deal with girls, trying to sort out and get a handle on new thoughts and feelings. Don't worry about it too much. It has been generations since the last time boys had to become men so early in life."

The boy blushed. "There weren't very many volunteer-level students in my class," he admitted, "and almost all of them turned into assholes after they tested."

"Maybe it was the potential that the Confederacy saw in them," the dad allowed. "Maybe Confederacy Marine training will disabuse them. It is regrettable that you had no role models your own age." Dad sighed. "The world has changed a lot in a really short time, hasn't it?" The boy nodded. "Not that you had much of a baseline to compare with. I know I wasn't ready to join the marines before I finished eighth grade."

They sat in silence for a time. "So, what are your plans now?" Dad finally asked.

"Just keep going the way I was, I guess," said the boy. The dad shook his head sadly. "What?"

"Last month, you were in eighth grade," Dad began. "Then we got picked up, you, me, your mom and your sister. Before we found the rest of our family, we were asked to volunteer for a breeder colony. Then we found Susan and her daughter Kaylie and added them to our family. Then we boarded the ship and we've made our way to a new world.

"Yesterday, you were a member of my family, a dependent. Today is your birthday, and your CAP score means you are no longer my dependent. You're still a member of my family, and I want you to stay with us until you're able to volunteer."

"Aren't I just one of your concubines until I pass the CAP test?" A pained expression passed over the dad's face and he shook his head. "Why not?"

"I don't want you to be one of my concubines, Son."

"Why not?"

Dad sighed heavily, leaned forward and looked directly into the boy's eyes. "I have sex with my concubines."

The color drained from the boy's face as the meaning of his father's words sank in. "Would it be just once?"

"No. I try to treat my concubines fairly and equally," replied the dad. "I think they like having sex with me. If so, I want to share the pleasure equally. If any of them really doesn't like having sex with me, then I will have shared the burden equally."

"You can't tell?" the boy asked.

The man smirked. "No," he said ruefully, "All I can go on is what they tell me. I don't get any complaints, but that doesn't mean I'm an Adonis in bed. I really have never even heard of any man, anywhere, who completely understands women. I've always found that there's a lot going on beneath even the calmest surface of a woman. I've made it my policy never to 'rock the boat, ' if you'll excuse my somewhat mixed metaphor. I've found that the old saw, 'If Momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy, ' is mostly true. I've learned that, unless it is really important to me, I tend to go along with your mother. Now there are three women in the family, and your sister is getting to the age where she wants to add her two cents."

"I don't know why you would make that decision," said the boy. "I don't want to have sex with you. I don't think you want to have sex with me. Couldn't we just skip it?"

"But not skip the part about you having sex with the women in the family?" Dad replied. The boy nodded. Dad sighed and looked away, gathering his thoughts. "Do you think your mom wants to jump your bones?"

"I've seen her checking me out," the young man answered sullenly.

"Do you think that was an expression of desire, or interest and curiosity? She had a pretty big part in making you the way you are, you know."

The boy was silent for a while, considering. "No," he finally said, "I don't think she pines for a romp in the sack with her loving son."

"So that would leave Susan and Kaylie. They still aren't completely comfortable as members of our family. I think they expect one day to have me bring home a dozen of my closest friends and have them be the entertainment."

The young man blustered. "You wouldn't do that!"

"I wouldn't do that, but I'm not sure Susan and Kaylie know that for certain yet. I'm trying to make them feel like they're full members of our family, with the same stature as your mom -- whatever stature that is. What kind of message will I deliver if I ask them to sleep with you, and your mom doesn't have to?"

"Oh," said the boy, deflated. They sat in silence for a long time. "So what's my status?" he finally asked.

"Well, you're not a dependent anymore," said the dad. "Your wrist band is gone and there is a red collar around your neck. I suppose, when all is said and done, you are technically my concubine for now. I don't want to think about that. I don't want to consider you that. I don't want you to consider yourself that. I want you to consider yourself a 'volunteer in training'. I want you to spend all day, every day, training to become a volunteer. I want you to learn and I want you to teach. I want you to learn to command and learn to obey commands. I want you to seek out potential mentors. I want you to watch for an opportunity to be the mentor for others. See if you can get the AI to give you some guidance. Can you do that?" The boy smiled and nodded. "Let's go home and tell the family."

"Welcome! I'm John Davis, the proprietor of this here bakery. Today your team will be making some yogurt for the community. Who is the leader of your group?"

"I am," said a ten-year-old girl, "my name is Brandi." The other five members of her team stood with her.

"Anybody hungry?" John chuckled. "Come on over here. Grab yourselves a cookie or a brownie or whatever you like." The youngest of the team crowded forward and helped themselves. The older team members shyly made selections. "Come sit with me and we'll talk before we get started."

When they had settled themselves at two tables, John continued. "We organized our whole town for an extraction. I knew I was coming. I owned the bakery in town, and I was the mayor. I knew my bakery was a good place for people to meet and hang out. I hoped to do another bakery in the stars. It turns out the Confederacy had the same idea.

"I knew that replicators could not produce living things. Sure, they can make every kind of bread and pastry I know how to make, and it looks, feels and tastes just like the ones I made. For me, that wasn't the point. I want to make the bread and pastry myself. To do that, I have to have yeast. The Confederacy supplied me with a ton of yeast. It doesn't have an infinite shelf life, so I'll have to grow more from time to time. That's all right with me.

"The bread and pastry made by the replicators is just as good for you as the stuff I make. But it dawned on me that there is one product that contains living things. That product is good for us. Sometimes some of us really need that product to get our digestive systems back in order. That product is yogurt."

"Yogurt has animals in it?" asked a young girl.

John chuckled. "Yogurt contains bacteria, the same bacteria that live in our tummies and help us digest food. If something happens to the bacteria in our tummies -- like if we take antibiotics for an infection -- then there has to be a way to get that bacteria back into our tummies. The easiest way to do that is to eat yogurt. Some people eat it all the time. It has good nutrition and it tastes good.

"I had to tell the AI what I was doing. The Confederacy nanites keep our environment completely clean. I had to tell them not to helpfully kill all the bacteria in my yogurt." The kids laughed. "We had a pretty serious go-round about it. Finally, the AI agreed to leave alone any bacteria or yeast that were plainly part of my production program. Any bacteria or yeast that get away are toast -- the nanites will clean out every last one.

"Making yogurt is simple, but it takes time to ferment. On Earth, you had to get the milk really hot to kill all the germs. We don't have to do that here. The procedure is to get some warm milk from the replicator, add some of the yogurt I brought with me, mix it up real well, ladle it into portion cups, put the caps on the cups and put them in a water bath to keep them warm. In a few hours, the yogurt is done. You put it in the refrigerator until it is time to serve. It can be eaten by itself but most people like to put fruit or other stuff in it.

"You won't be here when the yogurt is done. You can come back tomorrow and have a serving of the yogurt you made. Let me break down the tasks for you, including cleanup. When you leave my kitchen, it will be as spotless as it is now."

"Hello," the nude woman behind the counter greeted the couple as they entered the foyer. "My name is Amy. How can I help you?"

Dave Franklin was dressed casually in a plaid oxford shirt, khaki pants, socks and sneakers. Hope Franklin wore a pale yellow sundress with spaghetti straps and sandals. They made their way to the counter, arm in arm, both plainly embarrassed. The couple looked to each other for support. While they gazed at each other, Hope said, "We want to try the weightless room." She giggled.

"You've come to the right place. What have you heard about the experience?"

"Well," said Hope, now looking at Amy, "we've heard that it's a unique experience, but nobody has been willing to share much more than that."

"I'm actually glad to hear that," said Amy. "It is a unique experience. We want to keep the experience as mysterious as possible. We hope you have a lot of fun. We hope you will come back again and again. We hope you will help us maintain the shroud of mystery by telling others only that you tried it, and they should try it, too. Can you do that for us?" Dave and Hope nodded, smiling shyly.

"Okay, then," Amy continued, "a bit of explanation and some suggestions before you start. Part of the mystique is not knowing exactly where the zero-g room is. Even I don't know where it is. Please don't ask me to explain the physics, because I don't understand it. You have to use a transporter pad to reach the zero-g room.

"There are no brakes. If you push off a wall too hard, you'll crash into the opposite wall. The walls are padded, but the padding will only absorb so much force. It isn't like swimming, where you can move your body and kick to change direction. If you get stuck out in the middle, the air flow will eventually save you, but that will take quite a while. Try not to crash into each other, either. Think about what billiard balls do when they strike each other.

"You'll be surprised at how much you depend on gravity when you're in bed. In zero-g, there's no traction either. It's fun, but it's different. There are a few things there that will help you get some stability if you want it.

"If you want to try things that just aren't possible in normal gravity, please be careful. It's fun to spin around, but you might not be as well lubricated as you thought. Twisting that particular body part can be very painful." She giggled. "If you hurl yourselves together, crotch first, and your aim is a little off, that can be painful for one or both of you.

"Lastly, you know about being seasick. Your inner ears depend on gravity for your sense of balance. There is nothing in the room that indicates direction. That helps prevent vertigo. If you start feeling queasy, look each other in the eye and remain still for a while. That should help. If you need more help, ask the AI. Please don't barf. If you do barf, please don't barf into the room.

"I hope you have a lot of fun. Feel free to tell me all about it if you want to -- it might help you to not tell anyone else. I will of course answer your questions and accept your comments and suggestions."

"It sounds like you have tried the zero-g room," said Dave.

"Yes," blushed Amy. "It would be impossible to explain and answer questions if we hadn't." She looked them both in the eye. Satisfied, she looked down and made a gesture toward the transporter pad, now glowing green. "When you're ready, step onto the pad. Gently pull yourself away so the pad can be reset for the next person. Which of you wants to be first?"

Dave and Hope looked at each other, all grins. Dave motioned an invitation for Hope to go first. She giggled and playfully shoved him toward the pad. He chuckled, shrugged, stepped onto the pad and was gone. The pad turned red for a moment before returning to green. Hope stepped to the edge of the pad, put her feet together and hopped high and forward onto the pad. Her feet did not reach the floor before she, too, was gone.

It was an odd sensation, not having her feet firmly on the floor. Parallel ropes were strung about four feet above the 'floor' and just outside the transporter pad. The grinning Dave was holding both ropes, his feet oriented the same as hers. "I thought about flipping myself upside down, but I thought I should be cautious about one or both of us getting seasick," he said. She tried to move into his embrace and was surprised that she couldn't do it by herself. She reached out and let him pull her into his arms. They kissed passionately and then stopped to take in their surroundings.

The room was shaped like the inside of a capsule, a cylinder with rounded ends. It was well lit but not uniformly bright. There were areas of intense light and areas of relative darkness. Along the perimeter, evenly spaced, were four slack ropes running the length of the capsule and about a foot off the walls.

A rack was attached to each end. On each was a row of clear squeeze bottles, like those used to dispense ketchup. The contents were also clear and perhaps contained water. Also on the rack were jars labeled 'lubricant' and stacks of hand towels. The bottom shelf held two large squirt guns. Tethered to the bottom of the rack was a net bag containing small water balloons.

Hope disengaged from Dave's arms and launched herself away. "Catch me if you can, Peter Pan!" she called.

"Oh, you want to play Wendy, eh?" he said, his voice more like Captain Hook's. She waited until she could see that his trajectory was more down the center of the capsule, then latched onto a rope. Her momentum caused her to flip around, but she held on. There was less slack in the rope than she feared. She was able to get her feet onto the wall, prepared to re-launch herself in a different direction.

The ersatz Peter sailed past her, his furious efforts to change course or stop entirely futile. The AI, sensing the eminent collision, tightened the ropes at the approaching end of the capsule. There remained enough give in the rope that it absorbed most of his momentum. He hit the end of the capsule hard enough to hurt, but was not injured.