textfiles/sex/EROTICA/U/unmask.txt

Nenim 5, 0477

	"P'nyssa!" I perched on the edge of the g-tube to the bedroom.  
"Can I come down?"

	"Don't come down yet!" was the answer I got.

	"I'd like to use the bathroom!" I shouted.

	"Use the one next door!  Just don't come down here!"

	I grumbled to myself about women and their incessant need to 
take forever to dress.  "Dave," I said, addressing the household AI.

	"The door's unlocked, Ken."

	"Thanks."  I walked back to our tiny kitchen and opened the door 
to P'nyssa's old quarters next door.  When she'd moved in with me she 
started to use it less and less, so eventually we just moved all of 
her stuff over into my quarters and closed up.  I suppose that 
someone else could have used it over the years, but nobody ever asked 
for it.  After Richard and P'raine were born we used it as a nursery, 
but that had been years ago, and although P'nyssa and I have 
discussed children since then, we haven't gone ahead with the idea.  
Don't know why.  Someday, though, we will again.  We'll have to.  
It's too much in her, and I think it's too much in me, too.  But at 
the moment the room is empty; the walls are bare metal; all the 
natural wood paneling and stonework and wallpaper are gone; the 
kitchen appliances are quiet and dead.  The lights came on minimally 
as I walked in and I felt confident in using the gravitics tube to 
the downstairs bedroom.

	Downstairs was more of the same.  The room was completely 
deserted.  The bathroom didn't look familiar.  At one time Richard 
and Rainy's toothbrushes had been on the sink, the soap sloppy 
everywhere, towels on the floor, absurd science-fiction wallpaper on 
the walls, but not anymore.  I wanted to call it a restroom, the 
distinction being that a restroom is an efficient place for quick 
operation; a bathroom is a place where one is most Human, or Tindal, 
or whatever.  One does not get  into the shower of a restroom to 
fondle one's partner lovingly, but that certainly happens in my 
bathroom.

	I quickly relieved myself and made my way back out.  I wondered 
idly what I could do with this extra space, but soon moved on.  I 
hadn't  done anything with this space in decades; there was no reason 
to change now.

	So I soon found myself back in our own quarters, waiting on the 
living room couch for my lover who had taken so long to get ready.  
It finally took me by surprise when I heard, "I'm ready!"

	I waited for her to come up through the hole in the floor, and 
when she finally rose to full height and the support field snapped on 
underneath her my jaw hit the floor.

	"What do you think?" she asked.

	I was stunned.  She wore white, everything bright, clean white.  
And nobody wears white like P'nyssa.  The contrast with her indigo 
blue fur was perfect.  She wore 4cm high heels, which while not 
drastically high is high for her; she's the sneaker type.  Her pants 
were bleached white form-fitting denim, but not tight around her 
legs, and she wore a full shirt with silver cufflinks and studs, 
white bow tied with silver band, and a perfectly cut full-tailed 
tuxedo jacket that I guessed was doeskin.  Her only piece of jewelry 
was "Dragon", the polished pewter earring I'd given her three 
centuries ago, in the right ear.  Her black hair had been teased out 
to frame her face and fell over the white leather in magnificent 
contrast.

	I fought for my voice.  "Uhm... Uh... You look wonderful," I 
finally managed to say.

	She smiled.  "I hope I have that same effect on the rest of the 
party tonight."

	"You should wear that more often," I said.

	"If I wore it more often, you'd get used to it, silly.  And I 
certainly don't want that."  She laughed quietly.  "You look 
wonderful, too."

	"Do you really like it?  It's not too militaristic?"

	"What?  A Fleet Uniform?  You're a full commander; you deserve 
it.  And the blue and and white go well with me.  We'll make quite a 
striking pair tonight."  I chuckled back in response.

	I brushed what was left of my hair into place.  P'nyssa had 
insisted on cutting most of it off; if this was to be a masked ball 
then I had certainly be more incognito then usual, and for the past 
hundred years or so people had been seeing me in long hair.  "If 
you'd cut any more off, I'd be bald."

	"I left you plenty.  And it'll grow back.  A year from now it'll 
be down your back, and you know it."  And I did know it; everything 
on me grows fast; hair, nails, and unfortunately, teeth.

	"By the way," she continued, "how do I look?"  She took the 
light leather mask and put it over her eyes, adjusting it so she 
could see.

	I laughed.  "What's so funny?" she asked.

	"You look like P'nyssa Traken."

	"What's that supposed to mean?"

	"I mean, you look like a Traken, sweetheart.  The white leather 
just covers up the albino patches around your eyes.  Okay, your 
patches aren't as big as the mask, and they don't come together over 
the bridge of your nose the way the mask does.  And I suppose every 
Tindal there will be wearing something similar, but it does make you 
look like... you, or some other fem in your family."

	She smiled.  "Good.  Just what I wanted."

	As we walked toward the SDisk, that comment ran through my mind 
over and over, and as it did, it became more and more cryptic.

	When we got to the party, I was sure there was more to it than 
just my natural paranoia.  Richard and Susan had decided to throw 
their fourth-century anniversary party in truly grand fashion, and 
the Reedhon Castle courtyard was positively packed with people, all 
dressed in the strange to sublime.

	I was enormously pleased to see that most people had gone the 
formal masked-ball route, and only a few had gone to truly costumely 
lengths, although those that had had chosen historical formals  to go 
to.  I even saw a few people in Heinlein full formal, and they looked 
comfortable, which made me comfortable.  The masks went from the 
simple eyepiece (like mine and P'nyssa's) to full headresses.  
Despite the nature of the party, I did not see Uncia wearing scars 
they did not deserve, but the number of people in drag amazed me.  
Fashion on Pendor is much slower than on other worlds, but it has 
some definable patterns, 
and at present there were very set male and female fashions; people 
at this party were going out of their way to achieve androgyny.  
Apparently  P'nyssa had caught wind, with her very feminine tuxedo.  
I saw Felinzi with complete watercolors airbrushed into their fur.  
Mostly Taoist themes, too.  Seems Tao and Zen had taken Felinzi 
culture by storm the past two years.

	But what made my curiosity go sky-high was that I saw not one, 
or two, but at least five Tindals wearing the exact same thing 
P'nyssa had on.  At first I had thought I was just seeing Nyss over 
and over, but I saw two of them talking together, and neither of them 
had the earring.  Well, they had earrings, but not "Dragon."  And one 
of them was most definitely male.

	Dinner was okay; I think the poultry was a tad under-done, but 
then maybe I got an Uncia's plate by mistake.  Can't expect the 
caterers to get everything right.  But my dinner companions were 
pleasant enough; to my right was a Markal fem named Tavvi with a ton 
of piercings in her large rodentine ears, and to my left a femSsphynx 
whose voice reminded me of a young lady I'd once known only by the 
name of Fading Breezes.  Unfortunately, I had no opportunity to get 
to know either of these ladies very well since I was situated across 
from an apparently just post-adolescent 
angry-at-the-universe-in-general Centaur who recognized me and my 
uniform and seemed quite intent on pestering me.  It was all I could 
do to concentrate on teasing the Markal under the table, tickling her 
very exposed thigh.  I'm glad the miniskirt is back.

	After desert (and some incredible double entendres' from the 
Ssphynx, considering it was only cherry pie a la mode), I advised the 
young Mel that when he grow up he volunteer for the Fleet before 
opening his mouth.  He took affront to that, predictably, and I fully 
expected the phrase "affaire' de honor."  But he passed.  Lucky him.  
It's been a while since I've picked up any sort of sword, but I've 
got a lot more years on the boy, and age and treachery and all that 
rot.

	I danced for a while with the young Markal lady, and she was 
intent on teasing me with her tail, which kept coming around us.  I 
found her a wonderful dancer, and let her lead.  After a while, 
though, there was a soft tap on my shoulder, and one of the "Tindal 
Clones," as I'd started to label them, stood behind me.  "May I have 
this dance?" she asked.

	Her voice did nothing to give her away.  She was almost 
completely unknown to me.  I suddenly recognized another reason 
behind the tuxedo; it covered everything, and I couldn't get a clear 
look to see any of the familiar fur patterns that sometimes mark a 
Tindal.  But there was this niggling thought in the back of my mind 
that told me I should damn well know who this was.

	She was experienced on the dancefloor, and she took my breath 
away with her sensuous hips and white gloves.  I enjoyed the music 
pouring through the room and the feeling of her body pressed against 
mine when the music slowed.  And she proved to me, once and for all, 
that anyone can tango if their partner is good enough.  Because I 
cannot tango.

	We sat and drank champagne, telling outrageous lies as we were 
allowed by the masked ball.  She told me she was a geologist for the 
Fleet; I told her I was an explorer, once with The Eldarfaroth, but 
now living quietly here on Pendor.  We exchanged tales; both of us 
had helped Hall-walkers.  She was born before the 'Opening'.  I told 
her I was born in 52, she said 68.  Basically, I think we lied 
through our respective teeth.

	But her company was comforting and pleasant, especially after 
that damned Centaur boy, and I was getting a little high from the 
alcohol and leaned over to kiss her.  She acted as if she had fully 
expected that, leaning into the kiss and opening her mouth against 
mine.  I replied, inviting her tongue into my mouth, feeling it 
against mine but not really concentrating on how or where it went.

	"I know of a few empty rooms in Reedhon Castle, if you'd like to 
go  someplace more private," she said.

	I gave it all of one second to run through my brain.  "Of 
course," I said.  "After you."

	She stood and took my hand in hers, leading me past the crowds 
clustered around the various hors d'oeuvre tables and champagne 
bottles.   We made our way into the sideroom, which held mostly the 
more tired partygoers, sitting around quietly talking or 
communicating in more  physical, but undemanding, manners.  The doors 
were opened to the outside, and I saw two Centaurs walking through 
the garden that I swear had been made for occasions such as this.  
Down the hill the river trickled by.  She (I had no name for her yet, 
but she still seemed familiar) led me up the creaky wooden stairs to 
a small hallway that I had to duck under to get through, and down a 
slate stone hallway to a large wooden door with a very typical 
doorknob.  We walked in and the lights came up slowly, soft white 
light from several candles illuminating a room done in winecolor.  
The floor was still slate, but I knew it would never be cold under my 
feet.  The centerpiece to the room was a huge four-poster bed with 
canopy.  There was one large mirror.  A small door led off to what 
had to be (and I had to call) the garderobe.

	She closed the door behind her as I crossed the room to the bed.  
I sat down and she walked to me, leaned over and kissed me again.  I 
reached up to ruffle the fur at her neckline and was surprised to 
feel something else under the cloth, something that felt like a 
collar, the more erotic kind.  I wondered if she had a master or 
mistress somewhere who had put her up to this.  

	She must have noted my attention, because she said quietly, "You 
may undo me, sir, but not the collar or the mask."  Well, that 
answered my first question, the one I wasn't going to ask aloud.  I 
reached up while her mittens slowly stroked down my back and one at a 
time removed the silver studs from her shirt and untied her tie.  The 
collar underneath was a thin wide band of black leather.  I opened 
her belt and  pants as she stepped out of her shoes.  The jacket and 
shirt fell to the floor, and I pulled her down to the bed, making it 
easier for me to strip off her pants.

	Even if she was someone's slave, she wasn't mine.  She pushed me 
over and down onto the bed to show me that fact.  "Lie down and 
relax," she said in a calm voice.  She swung one leg over my chest, 
straddling me facing away.  I had a clear and magnificent view of her 
buttocks before she slowly sat down on my face, obscuring my vision 
completely.  She pulled her legs in tight to block up my hearing, as 
well.  "Lick me," she said.  It sounded more like a plea than a 
command, but it was to be obeyed, and I did, opening my mouth as far 
as I could and reaching out with my tongue to slide it over her clit 
and up into the fleshy depths of her pussy.  She leaned forward, 
clearing my eyes a little, but all I could see was her furry buttocks 
and back and the canopy of the bed.  I did my best to lick her in 
that awkward position, and I felt I would drown; she was very wet.  I 
also had to breathe through my mouth since my nose was completely 
covered by her ass.

	My attention was suddenly drawn to the sound of the door being 
opened.  Aghast at being caught in this awkward position, I tried to 
get  the young fem's attention, but she held my arms down and said, 
in that same calm voice, "Quiet."  The other person came in and 
touched my leg, running a mitten (yes, mitten... another Tindal) 
along the material of my uniform.  She addressed my pleasant captor 
and at least identified herself as a her.  Great.  I smell a rat, and 
her name is P'nyssa.

	The other reached under the diagonal clasp of my jacket and 
unzipped it.  I heard a small expression of frustration, and I guess 
it was that the shirt for the uniform is a turtleneck.  She turned to 
my boots and removed them, then the socks.  She opened my pants and 
slid them off.  At the moment I was unerect, but she curled her 
mitten around my cock and began to stroke me, very slowly, sliding 
the skin up and over the head and then back down, and soon that was 
rectified.  There was a shuffling, and then the new one straddled my 
legs along with the first, except I could feel her feet back along my 
legs and I knew she was facing my captor, who was not paying much 
attention to my needs and was occasionally cutting off my air supply.  
I found it frustratingly exciting, especially since I was now 
completely volunteering for this.  If I weren't, I'd have fought them 
off and left a long time ago.  Someone had gone to a lot of trouble 
to get me into this bed, and my curiosity, not to mention ego and 
libido, were piqued.

	The other one (I wish I had names!) slid up and took hold of my 
cock, coming down and sliding me into her.  I felt her warm cunt 
surround me and her full weight came down onto my hips.  The bed 
creaked  underneath us.  The one I was eating got up for a second, 
giving me a clear view of yet another Tindal In White Leather, still 
wearing her shirt and jacket.  My original paramour turned around and 
straddled me facing the other way, for which I was grateful.  She 
even reached down and held herself open, giving me much better reach 
of her clitoris.  I licked and nibbled her cunt, trying to give my 
all to her, and she apparently found my talents acceptable, because 
she was very soon coming in loud, shaking orgasms.  She allowed me to 
lick her to four orgasms, all coming in a row.  The Tindal over my 
cock was determined to not let me forget about her, and began to 
slide insistently up and down, sighing each time as I began to thrust 
my hips upward.  She and I developed a rhythm that became easier as 
we went on, my cock sliding into her and then back out.  My captor 
backed away a little from my head, but still blocked my view of the 
other, who may have been P'nyssa, for all I saw of her.  My cock 
surged and tightened, and then finally, I came in a scream, pushing 
up into her, trying to get deeper, be engulfed by her.

	The one sitting on my chest, the original, put her mittens over 
my eyes, and the other got up and left, slowly and calmly, as if she 
had all the time in the world.  Then the one left got off of me, 
leaned over and whispered, "When I leave, take off your shirt and 
turn over onto your belly.  Close your eyes.  If you're tired, take a 
nap."  She leaned over and kissed my cheek, then picked up her 
clothes and left, as unhurried as her friend.

	When she left, I got out of bed, stretched, and decided that it 
was worth it to find out what was going on.  I removed my shirt, 
pulled down the covers and lay on my stomach, like she'd asked.  The 
room was comfortably warm, and I decided against crawling under the 
covers.  I closed my eyes and tried to relax.  I kept thinking about 
my captor; who was she?  And, dammit, I felt like I should know who 
she was.  Eventually, I did fall asleep.

	I was awoken by the feeling of warm, strong mittens on my back.  
The mittens were vaguely oiled, and the person astride my buttocks 
proved to be an experienced masseuse.  I lay there, enraptured by the 
warm sensations of the massage as my unknown benefactor slowly rubbed 
my neck and shoulders, working out the few kinks I had.  I groaned as 
the relaxation reached my brain, filling me with that sense of 
well-being.  I trusted her, whoever she was.  "Thank you," I said 
quietly.

	"You're welcome," said the masseur.  My eyes popped open, but I 
saw nothing; the room was pitch black.  That was a male voice.  
However dark it was, I was still tempted to turn around and look, but 
I decided finally that that wasn't going to be helpful, and lay still 
where I was.  He leaned down and whispered into my ears, "You know 
what I'm going to do when I'm finished with this rub?  I'm going to 
take the oil and oil myself up and then I'm going to fuck you, 
Shardik.  How does that sound?"  His voice was achingly familiar.

	I groaned.  "Go ahead," I whispered.  "Everyone else seems 
determined to do that tonight."

	He chuckled.  His strong mitts continued to loosen my back, and 
as he spread the oil over my buttocks my excitement returned.  He was 
professional in his massage, however, leaving my butt when he was 
done to caress my legs, the backs of my knees, and my feet.  As he 
did my feet I sighed again, really enjoying his work.

	He let my foot drop to the bed.  From the smell I'd guess I was 
still in the same room; the bed had the scent of sex and velvet.  He 
never lost touch of me and I lay with my head on the pillow, eyes 
closed, waiting.

	He straddled my legs, and I felt the furred back of his mitten 
against the crease of my butt and I could tell he was oiling his 
cock, stroking it to a full erection.  "Ready?" he asked.

	"Yessss," I whispered.  I felt the head of his cock nudge 
between my buttocks, searching.  His other mitten reached under us to 
feel for my asshole, and the two came together.  He pressed his 
weight ever-so- slightly, and I let him in, I let my ass give way.  
He sank into me, my asshole expanding and then closing as the head 
slid by, feeling the silky length of his dick slide past my opening 
and fill my rectum.  I closed my eyes and joyfully felt the weight of 
his hips crushing my buttocks, his legs moving between mine, 
spreading them.  He supported himself on his tens.  He slowly 
withdrew, and the feeling was mind- blowing.  Then back.  I don't 
know if I had an erection, and I didn't care.  I just wanted to be 
under him, to be his.

	He grunted as he fucked me, my ass taking his all.  He began to 
go harder, and I responded.  "Yes," I said.  "Just like that."

	He laughed, and slowed down.  "I want to make this last," he 
said.  He wasn't being gentle, just slow, jabbing into me with every 
thrust.  It was wonderful as he fucked me.  He lowered himself, his 
chest against my back, his breath against my neck.  He pressed his 
forehead against the back of my neck and laughed quietly.  His mitts 
wrapped around my shoulders.  He began to speed up, his breathing in 
time with his hips, and he began to slam against me, harder and 
harder.  It was wonderful; I wasn't going to come, but it may as well 
have been me.  I was wrapped up with him, and his cock stroked my 
guts, my insides, and when he finally came I shouted in joy with him.

	He rolled off of me and the edge of the bed, standing.  I no 
longer felt him against me, until he leaned over and said, "There's 
one more coming."  He kissed my back, making the muscles tense up 
again slightly, and then he left.

	I waited, and the time went by slowly.  I wondered if I was up 
to whatever was next.  My ass twitched wonderfully in response to the 
ravishing from the male Tindal.  I smiled.

	The door opened and the last one was female. She was dressed as 
the others, in the white denim and leather, gloves and mask.  She 
walked in and over to me.  As she closed the door, the candles lit by 
themselves.    Nice theatrics, I said to myself.  She stood in front 
of me, looking as delicious as the others, and said, "Are you up to 
one more?"  Her voice flooded my memories, and it all came back to 
me.  I laughed aloud.  I know who you are, I know who you are, 
sing-songed through my head as I looked at her.  I know who you all 
are.  I laughed aloud.  Wait a second, there's one missing.  Maybe 
I'll find out later.

	"What's so funny?" she asked me.

	"That's a funny question," I replied.  "Of course I'm up for one 
more."

	"Then help me with my clothes," she said, holding her tens out.  
I reached for her cufflinks and removed them, while the hand she had 
free opened her shirt.  I slid the soft jacket off her shoulders, and 
she sat on the bed, topless.  I scooted further onto the bed, and she 
joined me, and I reached down for her boots.  I pulled off the left 
boot and took her foot by the ankle, lifting it to my mouth.  I 
gently kissed her big toe, then moved on to the other, shorter and 
broader small toe.  I licked both with my tongue, enjoying the taste 
of sweat on her pads and in her blue fur, running back down along the 
arch to her heel, tickling her.  She laughed and squirmed to my 
touch, and I shifted feet, taking off the other boot and licking that 
one as well.  She giggled and rolled on the bed, and I made my way up 
her calf, nipping and biting.  It's hard to lick furries, since I get 
all that hair on my tongue, but she seemed to like my biting, 
especially when I turned over and got under her knee.

	She sighed as I reached her cunt and with my right hand idly 
brushed the fur out of the way, exposing her pink flesh.  This time 
it was my control, and I was determined to enjoy it.  I love eating 
cunt, and she was sweet as I probed the first time, thrusting my 
tongue into her vulva and parting her lips, sucking her outer lips 
into my mouth.  I was being rather rough, but she seemed to be 
enjoying it, and I decided not to change tactics.  I spread her lips 
with my hands and dove in, surrounding her clit with my lips and 
licking directly, hard.  She moaned a soft, "Yes, just like that," 
and I nodded an enthusiastic little nod.  I sometimes dipped my 
tongue into her cunt, just to taste her sweet juices, but always came 
back to her clit, licking with a varying rhythm that just kept 
getting harder and harder.  She ran her mitts over my head, and she 
came in a wonderfully noisy orgasm.

	"You liked that," I said.

	She nodded and said, "Let's see what I can do to you," coaxing 
me back onto my back and taking position over me, taking my cock into 
her mitts and leaning over to take me into her mouth.  She was 
talented, taking my cock deep into her mouth and sucking hard.  I 
closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling of her ministering to me.  She 
suckled my cock, keeping me hard, but oddly never really getting me 
much closer to orgasm.

	There was a sudden rush of cold air over my cock and balls, and 
I opened my eyes.  She had stopped, and said, "I want you to make 
love to me, Ken."

	She crawled on her knees to the edge of the bed and, facing away 
from me, took each of the posts in her mitts, holding herself up in a 
semi-leaning position.  She turned her head towards me and through 
her mask the yellow eyes seemed to twinkle a little.  "Take me," she 
said.

	Encouragement I did not need.  I came up behind her, on my knees 
as well, and aimed my cock, wet and slick with her saliva, at her 
cunt.  I grabbed her hips and pulled her towards me, sliding into her 
as her hips joined mine.

	My cock drove deep, and she moaned as I fucked her.  I used my 
arms and my hips, pushing her away, then driving back deep into her, 
pulling her towards me.  I looked down, watching my cock driving in 
and out of her cunt, the pink lips and blue fur and wine bedsheets 
all blurring in a chiariscuro of sex, and my cock responded to all 
the stimuli, becoming harder as I drove in and out of her.  "That's 
it, take me," she said again, louder.  "Fuck me Ken!" she shouted as 
I pounded her, slamming against her buttocks.  The bed creaked as the 
force of my ecstatic blows was absorbed through her body by the 
bedposts.  I could feel my orgasm building, and she said, "Fuck me, 
come for me, come on for me," and I screamed as my body exploded in 
orgasm, every vestige of self control lost, every last ounce of 
strength flowing out of me.  I sighed, dropped my head in exhaustion, 
and fell back onto the bed.  I watched her sag against the footboard, 
but then she raised her head high and turned to smile at me.  She 
crawled over to me, kissed me on the forehead and said, coyly, "The 
unmasking is in half an hour.  Don't fall asleep!"  She laughed, 
crawled off the bed, and like my previous lovers, left.

	I lay there for a few minutes, then groaned to myself as I got 
up.  There was a glass of cold water on the bedstand and I drank it 
down, completely ignoring the question of where it had come from.  It 
cooled my parched throat and I could feel the cold water as it 
shocked its way down to my stomach.  I felt... refreshed.  I went 
into the garderobe, glad to see it was pretty standard, relieved 
myself and combed my hair back into place.  I dressed and realized... 
nobody had ever taken my mask off.  I'd had it on all this time?  I 
don't remember...  Wow, talk about being preoccupied.

	I laughed, finished dressing, and headed for the door.  I looked 
both ways; the hallway was deserted.  I headed back down to the 
stairs, noted that the sideroom was mostly deserted, and headed back 
for the masked ball.  Inside, people were winding down, dancing 
slowly.  Even the band looked a touch worn out.  I noticed the 
contingent of six Tindals in White Leather, four of whom, the four 
I'd been with earlier, with dates at their arms.  The mix was pretty 
typical, and now that I had a clear count I knew who they were... 
P'Rose and P'Lissane had been the first two, then Richard, and 
finally P'Maya.  P'Rose and Lisa each had eager Tindal males to their 
sides.  P'Maya's date was a femSsphynx, which made me remember a 
letter I'd gotten from P'nyssa while I'd been in space, and Rick's 
date was the adorable Markal I'd been dancing with.  Talk about being 
set up!

	Richard and Susan came out and stood on the balcony over the 
side of the great hall, and there was a squawk from the speakers as 
they turned on the PA system.  Susan gave a standard "I'd like to 
thank you all for coming" speech, and then Richard said, "And now, 
it's time to unmask."

	The ritual cry went up from the great crowd assembled, "Unmask! 
Unmask!"  I turned to my captors as a whole and said, "The jig, so to 
speak, is up, guys."  I took off my mask as they took of theirs.  
Every one of them, excepting Richard, had the characteristic Traken 
markings about their eyes.  Males don't get it.

	I looked at them all, and waited for somebody to say something.  
Other than Tavvi their dates looked a little confused.  I had just, 
in very distinctive fashion, been on the receiving end of four out of 
five of P'nyssa's children.  Not to mention being ravished quite 
effectively my own son!  I turned to the two remaining, P'nyssa 
herself and P'raine, and said, in what must have sounded like a 
desperate voice, "What is this all about?"

	They cracked up laughing.  "It's about you, Ken," P'nyssa said.  
"I was talking to Rick and we started to talk about the party, and 
you, and it just sort of... happened.  We all agreed to it, just for 
fun."

	I smiled wide, so wide I felt the muscles in my face strain, and 
said, "Yeah, I've had moments like that myself.  Pretty elaborate, 
sweetheart.  Thank you."

	She hugged me tight and said, "You're welcome.  But we have one 
more surprise for you.  Do you know what tomorrow is?"

	I ransacked my brain for ideas; what was tomorrow?  The day 
after Richard and Susan's anniversary, Lotesse 3rd.  Lotesse 4th?  
"Oh, no," I said.

	"That's right.  Tomorrow's your birthday, Ken, and Rainy and I 
have decided that you should have the two of us tomorrow, starting 
right now, since the party here is over."

	"P'nyssa... I can't sleep with both of you in bed."

	"Why not?"

	"Well, for one thing," I said, turning to P'raine, "you're my 
daughter."

	"You were perfectly willing to let your son have at you," 
P'nyssa said touchily.

	"Okay, I admit..."  I did enjoy it, and I felt not one touch or 
twinge of guilt about it.  "Okay, let's try it.  But just a second," 
I said, holding up my hand.  I turned, one after the other kissed 
P'Maya, P'Rose, P'Richard, and finally, P'Lissane, and bid them 
goodnight.  And for me, there is no such thing as a friendly kiss.  I 
distinctly felt Lisa's toes curl.  "Goodnight, all."

	They all wished me goodnight, and with P'Nyssa on my left and 
P'Raine on my right, mother and daughter and (adoptive) father in the 
middle, we bid Richard and Susan a good night and teleported home.

	I hope P'Raine wasn't too disappointed at my insistence that we 
head to bed, but I was tired, and from the looks they were giving me, 
they were too.  We went to bed.

--
"Unmask!"
The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al. 
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