An unplanned life

Chapter 11

A Changing Society

Another relative came to collect Tomaz on his final day, my uncle having important matters to deal with at the last minute. I recognised him as Agar’s parent and took my leave of Tomaz with some sadness, but very pleased to see how happy he was.

“I wish you every happiness, Tomaz. I wish we could all go with you.” He looked splendid in a new leather suit, the huge prominence of his codpiece strange to the eye. Even stranger was to see his actual face and hairless head. We embraced briefly and I prepared to leave as I had a client to be prepared for. “I look forward to joining you and Agar as soon as Alexei and I are released.” I risked giving him a kiss. “And we will take care of our new CRP when he comes.”

“Thank you, Poal.” Tomaz held my hands, and returned the kiss. “You are a true friend. And we will be looking forward to greeting you when you come with Alexei.” Grinning, he asked, “May I put you in your restraint jacket?”

“Of course, Tomaz. Who better.” I cupped my breasts as he released my hands, triggering the recorder, and held out my arms to be inserted into the strait jacket he held. Then I made my way to the client’s booked suite anticipating a rough session with the new Prince Constanz. Rumour was that the old one had been assassinated, and the new Prince had seized the ‘crown’ …

Surprisingly he and his companions were not as bad as the former Prince. I recognised him as one of the old prince’s retinue. A handsome man, well endowed where it mattered in using a sexual partner, and he evidently preferred a slower, more sensual, approach to taking his pleasure.

The unrest in the senatorial familias’ spilled over into the streets and the Poirnerium hired guards. What had started as bouts of inter-familias riots, now became a full civil war. Rumour swirled about the city and reached us, but, cut off from the rest of society, it was difficult to know what was fact, and what false. That there had been several assassinations was fact, and it affected us. Suddenly we were being subjected to intimate examination and the suites searched and checked for weapons, poisons, or anything that might pose a threat to our more important clients.

Despite this, no one detected my recorders, and their arrogant tongues continued to spill matters of the utmost sensitivity. I learned more about this when Janus, Demos and, to my surprise, Agar kept their latest appointment with me. 

“Tomaz sends his love.” Once again having secured me for their pleasure, Agar explained. He grinned. “And this.” The kiss was whole hearted, his tongue probing. “And I am instructed to make sure you get well filled with our cum.”

“He is happy?” I asked. “You and he are ..?”

“We could not be happier.” Agar’s smile mirrored his words. “We would be married already, but he insists we wait until you and Alexei are free to join us in a joint ceremony.” 

“And he counts the days to your release.” Janus laughed, fastening the last strap rendering me completely immobile. “Now we can commence. Ready to be fucked, dear Poal?”

“Always,” I responded, “By you three especially.” I laughed. “Remember that this helmet means I am always ready to have sex …” I had an idea. “If you want to make this fun for yourselves, there’s a hood over there that blindfolds me and means I can’t hear you either. It’s got a tube gag …”

“Do you like being used like that?” Demos asked.

“Depends.” Smiling, I said, “‘Like’ isn’t a word I use much for what I get used for, but some things are more stimulating than others. That hood gets used on me a lot lately. It makes it a bit more interesting as I try to guess who is doing what to me.”

“Hmmm, okay, let’s do it then,” Janus said, retrieving the hood. “Bloody hell this thing is heavy and pretty intense.” 

“You should try wearing it” I grinned. “And then allowing a lover to enjoy your body …”

“I think I must,” he retorted. Kissing me, he fitted the hood. Locked in my private world I waited, then the frame I was strapped to tilted, and a penis filled my mouth. I had no trouble identifying it as belonging to Janus, or the cock that entered my butt. It was an entertaining hour, and they certainly loaded me with their cum. As always they enjoyed themselves, and I have to confess that so did I. It makes a huge difference to be engaged in sexual activity with people you like and love, and who love you.

The unrest in the city and the wider conflict, led to a fall in our custom. This was partly because many of the senatorial families had evacuated themselves to their estates in the country, but we, their playthings, were not to know this. Obviously, the reduced custom meant a shortage of income for our upkeep. For us four CRPs it also meant we were no longer getting as much cum daily as our modified bodies demanded.

“If this continues we will have a problem feeding you,” the PM told me, as he prepared to induce an ejaculation in me. “I can’t pay the market suppliers. They’ve extended credit, but have little enough to sell even at inflated prices, and they are struggling as well.”

“May I tell the others? Perhaps we can help.” It felt strange to be in a position where I, an inmate with over a year of my sentence still to run, should be offering to help keep the Poirnerium open. “After all, we may have a form of payment to offer …”

“Be selective, but, yes, talk to them.” He shrugged. “The guards cost a lot, but I dare not dispense with them.” Finishing securing me, he smiled. “Ready for your relief?”

“Always, PM.” I laughed. “I’m loaded, but I’m also getting withdrawal — I need a lot more cum pumped into me, and now I’m only getting maybe one session a day … I look forward to my mystery clients — at least they are regular still.” 

“Ha, you’re not the only one complaining about that. If it’s a problem for you, I’ll have to think of something to help out. Perhaps your idea has merit …” He laughed, and started the inducer. “Enjoy yourself.”

I spoke to the other CRPs first, and we agreed to talk to the unRestricted Poirnoi to see if they were prepared to help. The first group I spoke to were, at first, skeptical.

“We didn’t choose to be here. Why can’t the PM get some money out of the wealthy clients?” One challenged. He used the number ten, but quickly revealed his name to be Condoin. “They put most of us here.”

“He can’t. You’ve heard the rumours — our supposed ‘betters’ have more or less abandoned the city to the mobs they recruited. They’ve never been interested in anything but their own pleasure. The PM is already using credit from the marketeers to feed us and the prices are rising.” I shrugged. “Does it matter to us if we accept a client willing to provide the food we need? And some of us need certain foods …”

The debate started. There were plenty of suggestions, some practical, some not, but one thing emerged — they all saw that unless we helped, we would all have a problem. The most practical suggestion was to agree to be a ‘payment’ in return for supplies, but there were others. One was that we would ration ourselves and several had ideas for simpler meals and two admitted they had trained in the art of cooking. Condoin admitted he was trained in the purchasing of comestibles for a large household.

“It’s what got me here,” Condoin admitted ruefully. “The Venturas accused me of theft. I had stolen nothing, the ‘stolen’ goods had been given on the orders of a member of the family in return for …” He shrugged. “He had no authority for his ‘gifts.’ The giver denied it, but the Master knew the truth — had already intercepted both the goods and the recipient and learned what was being done … But the mother demanded I be charged, her favourite could not be sacrificed to save the reputation of a mere employee. I was charged with theft — she wanted conspiracy — and would have been sentenced to Certification and Restriction, but the father intervened, and I got a lighter sentence …” 

“You were fortunate.” Tapping my helmet I said, “You could have ended up like this.”

“I guess,” he retorted. “I could still be free — with a different Familias.” His laugh was humourless. “Tell the PM we’ll help, but perhaps he could allow us some freedom? If the law makers are no longer using us, and have abandoned the city …”

“I’ll talk to him.” I grinned, thinking that there might be a solution to the problem we CRPs had — not enough cum. But, one step at a time, first to solve the shortage of food.

The PM was relieved when I talked to him, and agreed to my suggestion that us CRPs could benefit from being ‘serviced’ by our fellow unrestricted inmates, and they would benefit from being allowed to do so.

“Agreed.” He shrugged. “It’s against the law, but,” he gestured to indicate the city, “there is no law at present. Tell them I’ll talk to them and we’ll make an arrangement for it.”