Sixteen year old Dory Johnson, like most girls her age, spent little time reminiscing on the past. Teenagers are future-oriented, and Dory's future seemed to contain endless possibilities for pleasure and adulation.

As one of the few White girls in her suburban high school, Dory was besieged with attention and requests for dates from Skraelings of all colors and mixtures, as well as an occasional overture from some shy or brow-beaten White boy.

Unfortunately the few White boys in her school were so beaten down with the System's propaganda of guilt, as well as fear of anti-White laws which were used to punish White males for the slightest deviation from humble subservience, that they remained socially invisible. By nature's programming, young females are not attracted to disenfranchised, beaten males.

On this particular evening, Dory was mentally wrestling with a not uncommon dilemma. Who should she go to the weekend homecoming dance with? She had narrowed the options down to just two.

One was a jive-talking flashy Negro, a senior who starred on the basketball team. The other was a Mexican whose expensive clothes and new sports car were financed by sales of various drugs to fellow classmates.

Under the prevailing moral climate promoted by all of society, including teachers, Dory was not without erotic experience with both sexes. Although physically she was no longer a virgin due to a lesbian affair in which her partner had employed sex toys constructed to simulate male sex organs, she had so far avoided vaginal intercourse with any male, not because of inhibitions but rather out of fear of pregnancy or disease.

Long ago she had discovered her ability to manipulate and gain advantage using sex and flirtation, weapons that she used without shame. Ignored by her drunken mother and by her lying lawyer father, she was tough, practical, clever and self-centered. Drugs, fights and varied sexual stimulations were integral in her life.

It was in fact incessant chatter about herself that precipitated an earlier than planned abduction. She had confided to a friend her decision to "go all the way" with a Skraeling. The friend, a secret KD sympathizer had, through channels, relayed the information to another, who in turn had broadcast a coded transmission on a set frequency at a prescribed time.

Wolf, the communications officer, arrived at Eric's cabin to warn that time was of the essence. Eric in turn shared the news with Trebor and hastily they began to plan.

"Can't get there tonight," Trebor opined.

"I know, but tomorrow night should be no problem. We have all the surveillance data we need." Eric was anxious. Although having only seen Dory's picture, he was infatuated. Of course, he had no way of knowing that behind Dory's pretty and innocent face lurked a scheming, devious and thoroughly utilitarian mind.

Dory lived with her parents in a ritzy home adjacent to the 18 fairway of a country club golf course north of Arvada, a suburb on the northwest outskirts of Denver. Other than contingency plans for unexpected obstacles, the abduction plans had been rehashed in Eric's mind many times.

The next day as Trebor and Eric traveled slowly down the rough and untended roads, Trebor counseled Eric on the problems he was about to face with an angry, scared, spoiled, brainwashed and basically useless prospective mate.

"I know, I know," Eric answered, "but you are the one that said women are incredibly adaptable, especially when they are young."

"That's true, but remember, this one has lived in luxury never dreamed of by kings and queens of ages past. She has absolutely no experience with the real world and is unable to perform any valuable task whatsoever until she is taught. And she will resist."

Trebor's evaluation was sobering, and Eric fell into silent meditation for several hours. After dark, they began to converse again as they entered System territory, all about business as they reviewed plans and contingencies.

The country club golf course was surrounded by an eight foot high chain link fence. A gate providing access to a service road for maintenance vehicles and supplies was situated at the far end of the course from the club house. Opening the gate would be child's play for Trebor. They would however have to leave the car parked outside the course and proceed on foot to Dory's parents' house in order to avoid detection by the groundskeepers, who would be watering and mowing fairways and greens all night long.

Wearing dark clothes and carrying their usual issue of weapons and tools, the efficient raiders arrived at the two story brick home which was their destination shortly before midnight. They could see no lights on in the house. Finding a pair of expensive cars in the garage, they surmised that the family was already asleep.

To their delight they discovered that a back door to the palatial home was unlocked.

"Guess these rich folks feel pretty secure," Eric whispered.

"Uhmmm," was all Trebor replied.

Due to its isolation the house was too dark to explore without the aid of the small flashlights they carried. Reconnaissance of the first floor found it devoid of humans. After creeping silently up the stairs to the second floor, they found there were a half dozen doors, all of them closed. No way to know which door might lead to Dory's bedroom, and it was too dark to explore rooms without using flashlights, which would likely awaken the occupants. This would have to be done the hard way.

Standing at one end of a hallway, they whispered.

"Might as well start here at the first door," said Trebor.

"Okay, I go in first," Eric was eager.

"Okay."

Slowly and silently Eric turned the doorknob of the first doorway and eased it open. It was pitch dark, and they couldn't see a thing. Suddenly Trebor switched on his flashlight and illuminated what turned out to be some kind of studio or study. There was no one in the room but the raiders. Each heaved a sigh of frustration because the tension would have to be repeated.

A second door opened into a deserted guest bedroom. The third room was occupied, but unfortunately not by Dory. Trebor's flashlight revealed a couple sleeping on a king-sized bed. The man, an overweight specimen perhaps fifty years old, awakened almost instantly, shielding his eyes from the light. He stammered, "What the hell, who are you?"

Eric flipped on the light switch and closed the door. Now both raiders stood revealed, holding 9mm handguns aimed at the bed. The woman woke up then, saw the KD raiders and screamed.

"Shut up," Trebor warned in a quiet but menacing voice, aiming his handgun directly at the hysterical woman's face. The screaming ended abruptly.
"No telling who she woke up. You'd better look for your girl now," Trebor advised.

As Eric hurried to find Dory's bedroom, Trebor began to tie up her parents with duct tape around their ankles and wrists. Dory's mother was a rather attractive woman despite showing signs of wear from a dissipated life. In a trembling voice she asked, "What do you want?"

"Just your daughter," Trebor replied. He was disgusted to see the look of relief on the woman's face. She had to know that horrible fates often awaited women who were abducted, but obviously she didn't care so long as her own decadent carcass was safe.

"Why our daughter?" the overweight man asked.

"To save her," was Trebor's terse reply.

"Save her? Save her from what?"



"From dating and mating with non-Whites," Trebor explained.

"There's nothing wrong with that. We're all equal. We can't be racist!" The System line spouted by the slob made Trebor want to vomit.

The woman chimed in, "Hell, my oldest daughter is married to an African-American." Although they didn't know it, the two racial renegades had just sealed their own fates.

Meanwhile Eric raced down the hall, opening doors and flipping on lights. The first two rooms were empty. In the third he discovered that Dory had indeed been awakened by her mother's scream. She had a phone in her hand and was just about to dial the police emergency number. He leaped across the room and struck the instrument from her hand.

The two sized each other up. Dressed in a short nightie that showed all of her shapely legs and the outlines of firm young breasts, Dory was a vision that aroused Eric despite the tension of the moment. A pert nose, pouty lips, and just a few freckles decorated a pretty face framed by flowing light brown hair. Despite the terror in her eyes, she was a fine figure of a woman.

What Dory saw was a stocky but well built, clean cut young man holding a gun that looked like a cannon to her.

"Please don't hurt me," she stammered.

Although his Aryan soul would have preferred to offer solace and comfort, Eric knew that a whole new mindset would have to be created in his captive, a mindset in which respect and compassion were earned by service to folk, mate and family, not by demands or pleas. So his response was brusque.
"You have one minute to get dressed. I'd recommend jeans, a sweater and sneakers," he advised.

When Dory hesitated, Eric began to count off the seconds aloud while pointing to his gun. At the count of ten Dory scrambled to obey, too terrified to consider the show she was putting on for the intruder. Eric didn't miss a thing.

Moments later Eric and Dory arrived at the door to the bedroom where Trebor was talking to her parents.

"I'll be downstairs in a minute," said Trebor, indicating Eric should take his captive down there and wait. When they had left, Trebor turned to the pair on the bed.

"Untold thousands of generations of your ancestors struggled, fought and died so that beauty like your daughter's would exist on Midgard today. Then you taught your daughters to defile their heritage by mating with Skraelings. This is justice." With that he plunged his knife into their throats, first one, then the other, all in one swift motion.



Wiping his knife clean on a blanket, he muttered curses upon the very memory such vile creatures, then went to join Eric.

"Sorry, young lady, but we can't take a chance on you screaming," Trebor advised before placing a piece of tape across Dory's mouth. Each of the raiders holding one of her arms, they escorted her across the dark golf course and placed her into the back seat of their car with Eric.

As Trebor headed the car for Kinsland, Eric removed the tape covering Dory's mouth.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked in a quavering voice.

"Kinsland," Eric told her.

Like Candy and Heather before her, Dory became even more terrified upon hearing such news. Certain that a fate worse than a quick death awaited her, she gasped, "Why, why me?"

"Because you are good genetic material and I need a mate."

"You mean, like a wife?" Dory could not hide the astonishment in her voice. Eric merely nodded.

"What about him?" She indicated Trebor.

"Oh, Trebor just acquired two new mates very recently. He has no interest in you."

"Two wives?"

"Sure. You have a problem with that?"

Anxious not to offend her captors, Dory quickly avowed that it was none of her business to judge. Now that it seemed she wasn't about to be tortured or killed, she felt emboldened enough to ask questions.

"I'm supposed to be your wife and I don't even know your name?" It was a question.

"Eric."

"Hell of a way to court a girl, don't you think?" Dory attempted a joke, then silently cursed the tremors in her voice.

Eric thought her attempt at humor showed courage, and it found it endearing. "Cracking jokes at a time like this shows grit," Eric allowed in a neutral voice, thinking to himself that it was a good sign.

"I don't feel very brave," sobbed Dory, breaking suddenly into tears. Well damn, I thought of everything but a handkerchief for a crying woman, Eric reflected. From an equipment bag he retrieved a stocking cap and handed it to his tearful captive without comment.

A silence which was potently uncomfortable to Dory ensued until well after they began their ascent into the mountains. Not that a plethora of questions weren't racing through Dory's mind, but she didn't know where to start or how such questions would be received. Already an exceedingly practical mind was speculating on how to enchant, seduce or otherwise control her captor until an opportunity to escape presented itself.

She finally broke the silence, telling Eric, "My name is Dory."

"Yes, I know."

"You already knew my name?"

"Of course. I wouldn't take just anyone for a mate."

"You have been spying on me," Dory accused.

"Well, someone has, in a way."

"What if I don't want to be your wife?"

"Doesn't look like you have much choice, does it? Besides, where in all nature does the female decide? The males fight each other for the right to breed and the female opts for the winner. That way, only the best genes are reproduced.

Dory pondered that for a moment, then ventured, "But people aren't animals."

"Tell me in what way people aren't part of the animal kingdom?" Eric challenged. After considering, she replied, "I hadn't thought about it that way before."

The rest of the trip home to Mathewsville passed in much the same manner as with Candy and Heather earlier. They did allow Dory, who was emotionally drained, physically exhausted and younger to get a full ration of sleep at the halfway cabin.

Unlike Candy and Heather, Dory's arrival at Mathewsville was expected and the community was primed to make her feel welcome. After a bewildering abundance of greetings from friendly strangers, Dory didn't know whether to feel like a kidnap victim or royalty. At any rate she soon found herself appropriated by two young women not much older than herself. One of them, obviously pregnant, introduced herself as Sheila and her companion as Linda.

Linda, who had an infant in her arms, had a take-charge personality. "Come on, we'll get you fixed up with clothes and stuff." Her suggestion was voiced so as to leave little room for debate.

"What about him?" Dory gestured toward Eric, who was deep in conversation with a group of other men. She found it hard to believe that her captor was unconcerned about her whereabouts, or whether she might try to escape.

"Don't worry," Sheila advised. "We will show you your cabin if he doesn't show up first."

In the community storeroom, while being fitted and supplied with clothes and women's needs, Dory discovered that the two girls were willing and eager to share a wealth of information about Kinsland, Mathewsville, Eric, or whatever might be pertinent.

"Some of the younger girls are a bit jealous of you, but don't worry, they will get over it soon," Linda confided.

"Jealous of me?" Dory didn't understand.

"Yeah, Eric is quite a catch and two or three of them wanted to be his first mate."

"A catch! He is a catch? He kidnapped me!" The sarcasm in Dory's outburst was thinly disguised.

"You will soon enough realize that you were rescued, not kidnapped. I knew I'd been rescued in a week," Sheila averred.

"You were kidnapped too?" Dory asked.

"Both of us, and it's rescued, not kidnapped," Linda informed her.

"Didn't you ever try to escape?"

"Escape to where? Didn't Eric tell you this is the last place for White people on earth?" Sheila patiently continued.

"This is all just too much," Dory exclaimed. "Yesterday I was safe in my home, and now here I am in some wilderness about to be forced to marry some guy I don't know that just kidnapped me. So tell me, am I supposed to jump in his bed and let him fuck the hell out of me before the night is over?"

Sheila grinned. "Who knows? I wondered the same thing the day I was rescued. Kinslander men aren't into mistreating women. When you're ready, I'm sure he will be, too."

"What if I'm never ready? I mean, this isn't marriage, not the way I ever heard of."

"Oh, Eric is a handsome man and you are a healthy girl. You'll be ready, willing and eager in due time, take my word for it."

Dory found Sheila's certainty infuriating, but considered it wisest to conceal her anger. Instead she decided to learn more about her captor.

"How old is this Eric, anyhow?"

"I think he's about twenty-six," said Linda.

"Kinda old for a girl that's just turned sixteen, don't you think?"

"No Kinslander has a right to take a mate and reproduce until he has proven his value to the folk in battle, and killed enemies of our people," Sheila informed her. "That's why most Kinslander men are ten or twenty years older than their mates. When a girl starts having periods and develops womanly attributes and gets 'boy crazy', that's nature saying it's time to mate."

"You mean Eric is a killer?"

"Soldiers kill their enemies and the enemies of their people, don't they?" Linda asked.

"Oh well, I guess so."

"And they still love their mates and children, don't they?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"So what's the problem?"

"Ah, I guess this is all too new and sudden for me to get used to," Dory stammered.

"Well, this should be about all you need for now," said Linda, indicating a sizeable pile of merchandise. "Come on and we will help you carry this stuff to your place."

There was calculation in Dory's next question. "You still haven't told me if I should have sex with him tonight."

"Trust me, you don't need to worry," answered Sheila with a knowing smirk that frustrated Dory.

"Well, hell, I was planning to give up this virginity thing real soon anyway." There was wry humor in Dory's comment.

"Atta girl. Humor in uncertain times shows courage," was Linda's response, accompanied by a reassuring pat on the arm.

That's the second time I've heard that tonight, thought Dory.

It was now fully dark as they trudged a couple of hundred yards through partially cleared forest to a cabin that Linda identified as Eric's place. "And yours, too," she added.

Without a reflection of city lights, the inky darkness was near total, unlike any night Dory had ever experienced. Spooky, she thought to herself.

"Good, Eric's not here yet. We can get you settled in," Sheila announced. Inside the cabin she lit a kerosene lamp which illuminated a large but unfurnished interior.

A kitchen of sorts with a table, chairs, a wood burning stove, a sink, a water barrel and some cupboards comprised one corner of the interior. The opposite corner contained a modern king-sized bed, incongruously surrounded by crude furniture including a dresser, a rocking chair and a lamp stand. Men's clothes hung on a clothes rack.

A third corner held a bathtub hooked up to a visible drain pipe. This corner was obviously intended as a future bathroom. Scattered elsewhere throughout the interior were tools, guns, ammunition, books and other male or revolutionary accoutrements.

Adding to the unpleasant first impression, the cabin was cold, having been unoccupied for nearly two days. Dory shuddered at the idea that this would be her "home."

"Don't worry, you'll have him trained in no time, and between the two of you this place will be fixed up in a week," Linda advised.

Dory looked doubtful. "Trained?? I'm gonna train him? He's dangerous."

To Dory's surprise, Linda and Sheila fairly roared with laughter, sputtering "dangerous" again and again. Then Linda apologized, "I'm sorry, we weren't laughing at you, it's just the idea that a Kinslander would harm his mate."

"Well, there was one once. Remember old Ralph?" Sheila asked of Linda.

"Yeah, but he's ravens' food, or was," Linda replied.

"What's ravens' food? What happened to Ralph?" asked Dory.

"Ralph was a wife beater and a drunk who lived in Mathewsville until about a year ago. He was harming the morale of the community, and he didn't straighten up after repeated warnings. So we hanged him, right out there in the clearing where you drove up," explained Sheila.

"We hanged him?" queried Dory.

"Well, the whole community voted at his trial and a public hanging sends a message."

Linda chimed in, "The point is, White Aryan men in their own lands and cultures don't mistreat their women or allow others to do so either. So when you assumed that Eric was dangerous to you, we just had to laugh."

Sheila added, "Don't misunderstand, though, if a woman gets too snotty or out of line, her man might drop her panties and spank her bare bottom until her attitude improves. It's just that it takes a lot of provocation. So unless you are planning to act really nasty to Eric, he will be easy to train."

"I still don't understand what you mean by training a man." Dory pretended to be puzzled, although she figured she was already an expert on how to control men.

"If his woman is happy and eager to please, especially in bed, a White man will do anything he can to please her. I mean, ANYTHING! Women have always been the power behind the scenes in Aryan countries. Let your man defend the nation and supply you and your family with whatever you need and want. As long as you stroke his ego and make him think he is a king in his own home, he will actually be your slave. Almost literally and without realizing it, he will be a happy willing slave."

"Hey, enough chatter! There's work to do," Sheila exclaimed. "Linda, why don't you help Dory put her clothes and stuff away while I get a fire started. I'm sure Eric and Dory will want hot water for baths, and they must be mighty hungry. I'll see if Eric has something around here to cook for supper."

In the rear of the cabin Linda placed her baby on the bed.

"What's his or her name?" Dory asked.

"Magni, he's a boy."

"How old is he?"

"Five months."

"Have you been here long?" Dory asked.

"About two years."

"Were you scared at first?"

As they reorganized the contents of the dresser to make room for some of Dory's things, Linda responded.

"Well yeah, for about a day or maybe even less. Mostly I was just confused and surprised. Shocked, I guess, by the sudden change and finding out that I'd been lied to about Kinsland ah1 my life. Then too I was still in high school, and all of a sudden I found out that nature said I was a grown woman. I was fifteen at the time. It took a few days to settle in."

"I'm sixteen and I'm in high school too, a sophomore. I mean, I was in high school."

"Well, you will probably go from student to teacher real quick. I think the community wants you to replace Sheila as the teacher of the kindergarten through third graders. Sheila will be having her baby soon."

"Don't you miss your old life?" asked Dory.

"Hell no, not one bit. The whole System is rotten and anti-White, and I despised my parents."

"My parents are pretty disgusting, too," Dory confessed. "My mom is a drunk and dad is a lying politician. No one believes anything he ever says. Of course, he's a lawyer, too, and everyone knows what lawyers are."

"Well, you will like the honesty of people here," Linda avowed. "You'll have to get used to primitive living conditions, though."

"I see that. Speaking of which, I guess this place has an outhouse for a toilet, uh?"

"Yeah, but the men are working on a water system. We hope to have flush toilets sometime this spring."

They finished organizing, Linda retrieved her baby, and soon all three were seated around the kitchen table, while buckets of water heated on the stove top and a tuna casserole baked in the oven.

Unceremoniously, Linda opened her blouse and began to feed Magni.

"I've never known anyone to breast feed," Dory observed.

"That's a shame. A mother's natural milk is what nature intended. Besides, I like it. It makes me feel protective and motherly and stuff."

"Does it hurt?"

"Naw. Feels kinda good actually, at least until they get teeth. I hear they can get rambunctious then."

"How long will you nurse him?" Dory asked.

"Probably two years. It's good for him, plus a woman stays infertile while nursing. One baby every three years or so is about right."

At that juncture the front door opened and Eric stepped in. He stopped after two steps and observed, "Well, well, well. A bunch of old hens discussing my shortcomings undoubtedly."

"Yes, and there's no shortage of conversational material," retorted Linda. The playful repartee showed obvious affection.

"Those milk tanks of yours get any bigger and we won't have to import dairy products anymore," responded Eric, eyeing Linda's exposed and impressive mammaries.

"Yeah, well, Alf isn't complaining," boasted Linda, referring to her mate.
Eric threw up his hands in mock surrender, saying, "Well, I sure ain't gonna argue with Alf."

"We better get going," said Sheila, getting to her feet. In mock admonishment she added, "Eric, you treat Dory right. She isn't used to a barbarian bachelor hovel like this."

"I guess that means you haven't spent the last hour extolling my endless virtues after all, huh?" he queried Sheila.

"It's getting too deep for me in here, even with boots on. Let us depart post haste," snorted Linda. Wishing Dory luck with "that smart ass barbarian", the pair left, declaring they would see her tomorrow.

There was a prolonged awkward silence once they were alone until Eric said, "Hi." Dory only nodded to indicate she had heard him.

"Not an impressive place compared to what you are accustomed to, I guess."

"You are a master of understatement, aren't you?" was Dory's sardonic response.

"Umm, so that's how it's gonna be." There was a hard and dangerous edge to Eric's voice as he seated himself directly across the table from Dory and stared into her eyes. "I will excuse a lot for obvious reasons, but one thing I will not tolerate is a spoiled, snotty, sarcastic little bitch with an attitude problem. I hadn't planned to get physical with you, but my belt and your bare ass will have a get-acquainted session that you will not enjoy, if you can't be civil. Civility is all I ask, okay?"

Dory, who had already decided to bargain with her body, raised her head as defiantly as she dared and said, "Civility is all you want? Well, there's only one bed in here."

"So what? It's not big enough or fancy enough for you?"

"So you expect me to sleep with you tonight, don't you?" The mocking tone of her voice was infuriating to Eric, who fully intended to let Dory set the pace in sex. So there was real anger in his voice as he advised, "If I want to I can strip you naked, tie you to my bed and take all the pleasure I want right now. I captured you in enemy territory and might makes right. That's the way it's been done for all the thousands or millions of years we have been on the planet. But so far I haven't, have I?"

Sensing that her body as a bargaining chip was losing value, and seeing Eric's anger, Dory meekly agreed. Between what Sheila and Linda had told her earlier, and Eric's threat to use his belt, she realized she was in danger of getting stripped and whipped on her bare butt if she couldn't appease her angry captor.

Then there was a completely unexpected development as Eric went to a drawer beneath a gun rack and returned with a pistol secured in a holster with a clip on the side.

"Stand up," he ordered. Hesitantly she did so, and then he slid the gun and holster into her waistband.

"There, that will protect you from any danger you might encounter in Mathewsville, including what you probably wrongfully call rape," he informed her. "Not that taking you anytime I want isn't my right. Now, I smell supper. Go see if it is ready."

The cold fury in his voice was echoed by body language, and Dory figured she had pushed him too far already.

"I wasn't calling you a rapist," she protested in the most conciliatory manner she could muster.

"You were. Now go." He pointed to the kitchen stove, his rage fearfully evident to Dory.

To herself she said, why didn't I just flirt and tell him he's good looking and give him some sex? God, am I stupid. Now she would have to figure out how to make amends and appease him. It was doubtful, after she had already expressed herself as she did in regards to the bed and sex, that he would be easily fooled into thinking any sex offer now was sincere.


She rummaged through the cupboards and found dishes and silverware with which to set the table. She didn't know how long the casserole should cook, but a glance in the oven told her it wasn't burnt, so she decided to let it heat a little longer.

Then she realized she needed to go to the bathroom, but the journey outside scared her. Summoning her courage, she approached Eric, who was now sitting in the rocker near the bed, reading a book.

"I've got to go to the bathroom," she announced in the meekest voice she could manage.

"Okay."

"Is it safe?" she asked.

In response he nodded, tapped the gun on her hip, then added "flashlight" while pointing to a shelf. "Just point and pull the trigger. Tomorrow I'll teach you all about guns."

He was pissed off for real, thought Dory as she picked her way along a path to the outhouse. Again she cursed herself for being stupid. So what if he wanted sex. Almost every other woman in the world was getting it anyway, and now she'd have to flirt like crazy or who knows what he would do. Well, if that got him horny, at least he was good looking.

Shortly she was again behind Eric's chair. In dulcet tones and pretended humility she said, "I think supper is ready. If you'll come eat with me, I'll be civil, I promise."

"Hmmm, I am hungry," Eric replied in a flat monotone that implied neither forgiveness nor hostility.

While they ate, he did initiate conversation, which Dory took as a hopeful sign. Thus emboldened, she said, "You and Sheila and Linda must be good friends, huh?"

"Yeah, they're good gals."

"Linda wasn't bashful about showing her boobs, was she?" Dory now wanted to bring up sex, figuring it was still her best weapon.

"Naw, clothes are just something to protect our bodies or keep us warm. Or because women look sexier in clothes that accentuate their best points and hide their weaker points. Don't you agree?"

"Are you saying that since nature gave us these bodies, there is no reason to be ashamed of them?" Dory asked.

"Couldn't have put it better myself. Still, if women didn't wear clothes we men wouldn't get the pleasure of undressing them. I like for my woman to just show me glimpses of her goodies, like with a split or short skirt or loose blouse. That turns me on. Speaking of showing bodies, I'll put up a blanket in front of the bathtub after supper so you can have a little privacy for a bath. I imagine we both smell like billy goats after so long on the road and all."

"That would be nice. Thank you." Dory's voice oozed insincere gratitude.

Eric changed the subject. "I think they want you to start helping Sheila tomorrow at eight o'clock, with teaching.”

"Okay." For the moment Dory was ready to feign humble agreement to his suggestions, although escape remained her real objective.

"School is over at noon. Sheila would be glad to take you by her place and show you how nice a cabin can be."

"Okay," she agreed again. Like the actress that lurks within the heart of every woman, Dory played the role she had now selected to near perfection, not realizing how easily an act can blend with reality.

She volunteered to do dishes while he hung the blanket. As she cleaned the kitchen area, she snuck glances at Eric, thinking that he really was a fine looking hunk of man, and such a fascinating combination of dangerous soldier and charming boy.

Meanwhile Eric's mind was creating pictures of Dory, nude and glistening with soapy water from head to toe.

"I guess I carry hot water from the stove and cold water from this barrel and mix it in the bathtub until I get the temperature right, huh?" she asked a few minutes later.

"You got it, but here, I'll help you."

"How about towels and soap?"

Eric found both for her. Then, determined to let her set the pace despite the will power needed to resist taking what was now his, he departed for his favorite chair.

Dory immersed herself in the warm water, then soaped her entire body before focusing on immediate plans. She realized that quite obviously her power to manipulate her captor with sexual favors was severely diminished by the fact that he could simply take his pleasure at any time he so chose. So, she reasoned, it would have to be with enthusiasm, expertise and temptation that she might inspire his passion, a passion she could temper with affection. No more catty remarks, she warned herself. Then began her campaign employing feminine wiles worthy of comparison to Cleopatra's conquest of Caesar.

"Eric," she called out, "do you have any shampoo?"

"Oh yeah, I do. I forgot because I usually just use bar soap to shampoo."

"Would you mind bringing it to me?"

"Not at all."

When he hesitated on the far side of the privacy blanket, Dory was well prepared to offer some visual stimulation, saying, "Don't be bashful. Don't you think we need to talk?"

As he handed her the shampoo she asked, "And would you do one more thing for me?"

"What's that?"

"Get me a little more hot water."

As Eric went to the stove, Dory finalized her decision. When he returned with a large kettle of boiling water, she said, "Just a second until I stand up. I don't want to get scalded."

She rested a hand on his shoulder and posed as sexily as possible as he emptied the kettle into the tub, then initiated a quick kiss on his cheek before abruptly settling back into the tub. "This may work out okay," she proclaimed out loud.

With a vision of female perfection indelibly impressed on his mind, Eric returned to his favorite chair and attempted to concentrate on a book about the System's latest weaponry. The attempt was futile.

Meanwhile, Dory reflected on the day's events as well as her future, while luxuriating in the hot tub. Apparently, as Linda and Sheila had said, she was in no physical danger if she played the role of sexual temptress and wife. Quite obviously there was no way of escaping from this place, at least not without a great deal of planning and more information. So, she reasoned, why not make the best of a bad situation? Besides, she had enough sexual experience to know it could be great pleasure. Her hands drifted across her breasts, feeling her nipples grow erect. One hand slid slowly down to the pleasure center between her legs, and a shiver of anticipation coursed through her body.

Why wait? Next week, tomorrow or tonight, what was the difference? What the hell, tonight's the night, she decided, trembling with expectation.

"Eric," she called out.

"Yes, Dory?" he replied, feigning exasperation.

"Do you have a razor?"

"Just safety razors."

"Would you bring me one? My legs need shaving."

When he got to the edge of the tub, she had one lovely leg out of the water, a foot propped up against one end. He stood transfixed for a moment, then tried to hand her the razor.

"You mean, I've got to shave my own legs?" she asked in feigned amazement.

Eric was not slow to catch on. "Well, certainly not, m'lady."

"That's better. First lots of soapy lather, clear up to here," indicating a spot well above her knee. Playful banter ensued as Eric performed the pleasurable task.

When he was finished she said, "How about you get out of here so I can get dry and put on a nightgown. Then it's your turn in the tub if you're gonna share my bed tonight."

"Bossy broad, aren't you?" he kidded, complying with all her requests.
As she donned a short flannel nightgown, she artfully left the top several buttons undone, prepared to tease with glimpses of her breasts. Meanwhile she reflected that men were so gullible. Eric evidently thought that she was a naive innocent, a sheltered little rich girl with no experience in the real world, or at sex. It's him that's a babe in the woods, she thought to herself.

As Eric rigorously scrubbed himself clean in the tub, Dory announced, "I'll figure out some partitions for rooms, okay?"

"You're the boss," he called back.

Damn right I am, she thought, but her contemplation was more on the upcoming seduction she was planning than on room divisions.

Eric finished, pulled on clean jeans, then noticed that the lamp had been turned low, leaving the cabin in seductive half-light. Dory was sprawled on the bed, two pillows behind her back, one knee cocked in the air, exposing most of an enticing, curvaceous thigh.

She crooked a finger in a "come here" gesture and in a syrupy voice crooned an invitation, "How about we get acquainted?"

"The Gods alone know the things a man has to do to keep a woman happy." Eric too could play games.

"Oh really! Well, if it's such a chore, forget it." Dory rolled to her stomach, affecting an exaggerated pout.

"No problem. A Kinslander always does his duty," said Eric as he sprawled beside her and ran an impudent hand up one velvety bare leg until it rested on one rounded and perfect ass cheek.

"I said 'get acquainted', not 'cop a feel'," was Dory's quick retort, squirming to remove his eager hand.

"You didn't say where," his repartee continued.

"How about everywhere?" she challenged, turning to expose a firm rounded breast. Eric's response was a low throaty growl and eager acquiescence. As they kissed she ran her hands across his muscular back and he explored all of her ripe nubile body with gentle but inquisitive fingers. Soon her body in the usual ways of sight and movement gave incontrovertible evidence that the pleasure she audibilized was not all pretense.

As he kissed and nibbled up and down the insides of her smooth, firm and deliciously curved thighs, her imagined impervious control gave way to fundamental desires.

"Stop teasing," she muttered, trying to guide him into a possibility of completion and satisfaction. Prolonging the anticipation in order to increase the final pleasure was exactly what Eric had on his mind.

When at last he tickled her ultimate erogenous zone, all calculated ideas about controlling and manipulating were long banished from her mind. Every fiber of her being was afire with primal need.

Eric slid up and kissed her on the lips as she moaned, "Now." With unrestrained passion, their bodies performed in synchronous rhythm, the ancient horizontal dance of mating and bonding, until — all too soon — the inevitable and uncontrollable conclusion arrived.

For long moments they clung together, unwilling to let the moment die. Finally, sighing, "Ah, that was incredible," Eric rolled onto his back. Dory turned to face him and traced patterns in the hair on his chest with one finger while trying to think of something casual or witty to say. For once, trivial patter eluded her. Instead, what popped out of her mouth was, "That sure wasn't your first time, huh?"

"First time in a long time."

"Have you had a lot of women?"

"I don't think a gentleman should tell, do you?"

"Why not?"

"Would you want every guy you ever made it with telling the world?"

"I never went all the way with a guy til now."

"Oh really?" A cocked eyebrow and the inflection of his voice told her that he didn't believe her.

"Yes, really."

"Well, it's no big deal, but you weren't a virgin."

"I didn't say I was a virgin. At least I didn't tell you I was. What I said was that I've never gone all the way with a guy. That's pretty unusual these days. Most of my girl friends have been putting out since they were eleven or twelve years old. So at least you got to be first."

"So why did you wait so long?" he asked.

"Waiting for you," she kidded, poking him in the ribs.

"I'm glad you waited," Eric said, pulling her head down for another of his patented gentle kisses. "But what's the real reason?"

"I didn't want to risk getting pregnant or getting some bad disease. Believe it or not, I'm pretty mature for my age, at least in real important things."

"I can see that," Eric acknowledged. He then lapsed into a long silence.

After a while she asked, "What are you thinking about so hard?"

"Oh, just curious."

"About what?"

"Never had a man and not a virgin?"

"Oh, you really want to know what happened?"

"Well, it's not earthshakingly important, but it does make me wonder."

"Promise you won't get mad?"

"Okay."

"Are you sure?"

"You want me to swear by the hairy balls of Thor?"

"Huh?"

"Just a saying. Thor is a God strength and masculinity, in other words, of 'big balls', so it became a humorous way of affirming something."

After another lengthy silence, Dory said, "I was fifteen and hanging around with this girl named Gloria. One night I stayed at her place and no one but us two were home. We got high, and we were talking about sex, and she had this vibrator sex toy and one thing led to another."

"Ouch! Didn't it hurt when, uh, you know?"

"I guess, a little, but when you're all worked up you hardly notice."

"So how long did you and Gloria have an affair?"

"Just a couple of months. She started acting jealous if I talked to boys, or even to other girls, so I stopped hanging around with her. Finally we got into a fight because she started telling stories about everything we did."
"I guess the schools encourage girls to try sex with each other these days, don't they?"

"Oh, yeah, all the time, and most of the girls do it, too. Guys love to watch 'em. Would you have liked to watch me and Gloria?"


"Well, as you now know, we Kinslander men don't need any extra stimulation to get in the mood."

"I'll still bet you would have. Did you ever watch two girls together?"

"Well, kinda, one time," Eric admitted, thinking back to the show with Candy and Heather.

"See, I'm no dummy about men."

"You definitely are not dumb," he affirmed.

"And I'm good in bed." It was both a question and a challenge.

"Out of sight, the best," he enthused. "How was it for you?"

Dory placed a forefinger across her chin in a gesture of deep contemplation, then drawled, "I don't think a girl should make snap judgments without research in depth. Do you suppose we could do it again?"

"I suspect I could rise to the occasion," Eric replied, wondering if she would catch the double entendre. She did, and before the night was over, three sessions of passion were enthusiastically brought to a climax.

At midnight both of them lay side by side, emotionally drained and physically exhausted. "Do you have any idea how crazy the last twenty-four hours have been for me?" Dory asked.

"I think so, and so far you amaze me. I knew that all this super sex tonight was calculated on your part for what you consider your best interests, but your practicality and courage make me feel you are a special person."

Guess I wasn't fooling him a bit, Dory thought. On further consideration she decided it was all for the better because Eric seemed impressed with her regardless of her motives.

"I guess we both have been kind of, well, I don't know how to say this.. ..not totally open with each other," she volunteered.

"Yes, I guess in a way we used each other, me because you turn me on, and you for control," Eric pondered out loud. "I really do like you though, and I think I'm gonna love you. It's just too early and too crazy to use that word."
"Crazy is right. I should hate you as a kidnapper, not be having sex with you and kinda liking it."

"Oh, so I finally passed the test," he kidded.

"Umm, it will take a few more exams, probably a week's worth or more to make a proper judgment."

"Thank goodness I like tests."

"Do you have to go to the bathroom?" she asked.

"As a matter of act, yes. Why?"

'Cause I gotta go and it's scary out there."

Eric slipped on jeans, a shirt and boots, then handled her a warm terrycloth robe. "Nobody's ever been threatened by a bear or mountain lion in Mathewsville yet, but come on, I'll escort you."

Later, in pitch darkness under a warm quilt, she whispered, "Hold me and tell me everything will be alright." Moments later they were both sound asleep.


The next morning Eric awoke as usual shortly after daybreak, just before six o'clock at this time of year. Knowing Dory had to be at the school at eight, he would soon have to awaken her.

Five-and-a-half hours' sleep after the trauma and experience of the previous day wasn't much. He decided to let her sleep a little longer. This first day she would get breakfast in bed.

He fired up the stove and shortly started breakfast along with hot coffee for himself. At seven o'clock, using a piece of one-by-ten board for a tray, he presented his woman with breakfast in bed.

Several nudges of her shoulder at first produced grumpy protestations and requests that he go away.

"I have to leave for work in a few minutes, and you have to be at the school in an hour," he told her. As the words sank into her consciousness, she finally rolled over on her back and opened her eyes.

"Sit up. I brought you breakfast in bed, just this one time though," he warned. As she yawned and stretched, exposing well-remembered cleavage, Eric realized that he was indeed infatuated.

"Smells good," Dory enthused, sitting up, placing pillows behind her back and putting the makeshift tray on her lap.

"I let you sleep in an extra hour because I figured you needed it, but now I gotta leave in a few minutes. I'll be working on our water system along with some other guys until noon. Then I'll see you back here about one, okay?"

"Okay," she mumbled around a mouthful of buckwheat pancakes and maple syrup. "Aren't you eating?"

"Already did. Just enjoying my coffee now." He raised the cup. "Oh yeah, before I forget, all teachers and girls wear skirts or dresses at the school. As soon as you finish eating, I'll show you where the school is through the kitchen window, then I've got to go. Will you be alright by yourself?"

Dory nodded.

A few minutes later, standing by the kitchen window, Eric said, "Well, gotta go." There was an awkward silence as neither knew how to separate or say goodbye. Both thought it strange considering the passion and intimacy of the night before.

Uncomfortably they exchanged glances. Then Eric said the first thing that popped into his mind. "You sure are pretty." Then he turned and rushed from the cabin.

For a long time Dory stood motionless, her mind a confused kaleidoscope of emotions, doubts, events and questions. In a daze she eventually got around to washing the dishes and then donned a dress for her teaching assignment.

Because fuel for a pumping station was impossible to obtain in sufficient quantities to supply water to the community, a gravity system was the only alternative. The engineering problems were only one set of obstacles. The labor itself was back-breaking. Eric's mind and body were thoroughly occupied the rest of the morning.

Dory would find it difficult to keep her mind focused on any particular subject. She felt dazed, confused and apprehensive about the future.

Arriving at the building that served as a library, a meeting place, a dance hall and a school for the community, she found that Sheila was already building a fire in the pot-bellied stove. Dory broke out of her mental fog sufficiently to respond to Sheila's friendly greeting with a "hi" of her own.

"Looks like you got through the night safe and sound," said Sheila with a companionable grin. Dory felt like she should initiate some conversation of her own, but "yeah" was all that came to mind.

"I remember my first night. I was afraid that Randy would beat me up or rape me or whatever, and at the same time I was just as afraid not to make him like me. I didn't know what to do. Was it like that for you?"

"Well, I guess so for about five minutes," dory allowed.

"Just five minutes?" The surprise in Sheila's voice was real.

"I'm pretty practical about things. I could tell he wasn't gonna do anything to hurt me, so really I mostly was deciding how much I wanted him to like me."

"Damn, you must be pretty brave." Sheila did not disguise her admiration for such quick practicality on Dory's part.

"Well, I was kinda scared one time for just a minute," Dory admitted.

"Really? What happened?"

Dory shrugged, saying, "No big deal I guess. Right after you guys left I got snotty with him and he threatened to whip my ass with a belt."

"Wow, you gotta tell me everything when we get time, okay?" Sheila's fascinated interest was both friendly and genuine. Dory felt a rush of affection for her new friend. Just then the first children arrived for class and Sheila advised, "We can talk at recess time."

"Okay, what do you want me to do?"

"Today why don't you just watch and see how we do things here. The first two hours will be basic math and language. Then after recess will be history and natural philosophy."

"Natural philosophy. I don't even know what that is."

"Mostly common sense, but to get you started here are the 88 Precepts." Sheila handed her a well-worn booklet, saying, "You can read them when there's nothing of interest going on."

Soon there were fifteen children ages five to eight sitting quietly at their desks.

"Good morning," said Sheila.

In unison the class answered, "Good morning, teacher," then waited in respectful silence for further instructions.

"Is there anyone who didn't finish his homework?" she asked. When no hands were raised, she went from desk to desk, picking up yesterday's homework and handing out new assignments. "For you third graders we will discuss changing fractions into decimals this morning," Sheila announced, pulling a portable blackboard to the front of the class.

Dory reflected that she hadn't learned to do that until the eighth grade. She didn't know that System schools had been deliberately "dumbed down" for decades.

As the arithmetic lesson proceeded, Dory opened the booklet titled "88 Precepts" and began to read. 'My God, this is deep stuff was her first thought. She was struck by the absolute logic in the teachings that all living things are subject to natural laws. It seemed impossible to deny.

After a lifetime of propaganda about "equality", she found the 29th Precept to be devastatingly iconoclastic. It read, "The concept of equality is declared a lie by every evidence of nature. It is a search for the lowest common denominator, and its pursuit will destroy every superior race, nation of culture. In order for a plow horse to run as fast as a race horse, you would first have to cripple the race horse; conversely, in order for a race horse to pull as much as a plow horse, you would first have to cripple the plow horse. In either case, the pursuit of equality is the destruction of excellence."

"That is true,' she decided. She then wondered if there were other lies that she had been taught. The 85th Precept also caught her attention. It read, "One measure of a man is cheerfulness in adversity." Kind of like the "humor in times of peril" adage she had heard the day before. Thinking of cheerfulness, she reflected that earlier that morning she had hardly spoken to Eric. After he had served her breakfast in bed and let her sleep late, he must have expected some kind of acknowledgment. No wonder he rushed out of the cabin so suddenly. Why did life have to be so complicated?

At ten o'clock came recess time. As soon as the children had gone outside to play, Sheila joined her.

"Okay, the suspense is killing me. You thought he might use his belt on your ass, then what? Or am I being nosy?"

"Oh no, it's okay." Actually Dory was quite willing to discuss the previous night in order that she could work out some thoughts in her own mind. "He gave me a gun. That's when I knew I was safe. Not that I would have shot him, but hell, I could have."

"That was his way of reassuring you, I reckon, and it worked, too, huh?"

"He is pretty damn smart," agreed Dory, adding, "He even said he knew all my passion was calculated on my part."

"Passion! You didn't...did you? I mean, you know, get it on with him?"

"Well, what the hell choice did I have. I mean, sooner or later it was gonna happen anyway, and he was really pissed off for awhile."

Sheila laughed. "You don't have to make excuses tome. I think it's great! Most girls take a week or weeks to make such a practical decision." She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial level and asked, "Was it good?"

"Which time?" replied Dory with a smirk.

"Damn, how many times did you do it?"

"Three."

"Boy am I jealous. Until I get this baby out of the hanger, I'm deprived. You still didn't tell me if it was good, but I guess after three times that's a stupid question."

"The first time it was fabulous, but then it got better, and then better again." Dory's smirk grew even more pronounced.

"So you two are gonna be happy together?"

"I guess so. I'm afraid I made him kinda unhappy this morning though, not that I meant to."

"How's that?"

"Oh, he let me sleep late and then he fixed breakfast in bed for me, but it was like I was tongue-tied. I couldn't think of anything to say. He probably thinks I'm a real spoiled brat."

"Ah-ha, don't worry. Shake your ass real nice when you get home and all will be cool. A man's brains are mostly below the waist."

"You don't have a very high opinion of men, do you?" Dory queried.

"Oh yes I do, I love 'em, and our men are the civilization builders of the world. I'm just being honest about their desires." Sheila glanced at her watch. "Oh crap, recess time is over, got to get to work."

As she returned to her desk, Dory heard her muttering, "Breakfast in bed. I'll be damned. "

The next hour was devoted to history and now Dory was truly amazed as the young children rattled off the names of scientists, philosophers, martyrs, wars, revolutions, kings, queens, dates, events and on and on. She wondered what she could possibly teach these kids, thinking that they could teach her.

It was the logic of their thinking processes that was most startling. Sheila asked a six or seven year old boy why a warrior named Herman might have been motivated to defend central Europe against the legions of Rome.

The little student promptly rose from his desk and, standing respectfully behind his seat, as all were taught to do, he answered in exactitude, "The 24th Precept: 'No race of people can indefinitely continue their existence without territorial imperatives in which to propagate, protect and promote their own kind.'" Dory felt an urge to hug the little guy.
Time flew by for the thoroughly-engrossed Dory, and suddenly the school day was over.

"Why don't you come by my place, and I'll show you how nice a cabin can be with some feminine influence," Sheila suggested.

"Okay, but I've gotta be home, urn, yeah, I guess it's home anyhow. I'd better be back before Eric gets there. I might have some fences to mend."

"Just make sure he sees you changing clothes, and give him a good show," Sheila advised.

Dory cocked a finger at Sheila and agreed, "Good idea."

From painted surfaces to curtains over the windows to padding on the furniture – there was no doubt that Sheila's home was a huge improvement over her own.

"Where did you get all this stuff?" she asked.

"Mostly we go shopping down there." Sheila pointed in the general direction of the bombed-out town below Mathewsville.

"Shopping? There's no stores open down there."

"Exactly, we can just take what we need from all the deserted houses and buildings."

"Do you still get bombed a lot?"

"Not anymore. They got tired of bombing the decoy fires we set for their heat-seeking satellites and missiles. And every time they bombed Kinsland, some KD snuck into System territory and killed a bunch of politicians or media whores or whatever. So now it's a standoff, just as long as they can't prove it's us when we plunder them."

"Why doesn't the System send in their army and wipe you all out?"


"Oh, they tried that, but their Skraeling troops were cowardly and undependable. Then they brought over thousands of troops from China, but as one division was coming up Bear Creek Canyon our guys blew up the Evergreen Dam and drowned the whole bunch. After that the Chinese called their troops home."

"We never heard about all this stuff in the newspapers or on TV."

"No, the System doesn't want to admit its weaknesses," Sheila explained.

"Damn, it's twelve forty-five. I gotta go. But first tell me, what am I supposed to teach the kids?"

"You can handle the basic arithmetic and language, like parts of speech, punctuation, spelling and such, can't you?"

"Probably, but all that history and philosophy is Greek to me."

"Don't worry, I'll give you the right books to study and by the time I have my baby you will be ready. Probably Eric will be glad to help also."

"Thanks. I gotta run." Dory gave her friend's arm an affectionate squeeze and hurried for her new home, all the while casting about in her mind for ways to repair any damaged feelings. She knew there was bread, cheese and other sandwich materials in the cabin, and so she decided to have a lunch and hot water for coffee ready when he arrived.

Trudging home from the reservoir site, Eric had time to ponder the reception awaiting him. Other than response to the razzing he had received from fellow workers, and jokes about the energy of "newlyweds", he had been too busy to contemplate anything but slopes, pressure and the like, all morning. He reminded himself that Dory had been through enough emotional trauma hi the last two days to break most women into sobbing wrecks.

Entering the cabin, he saw that at least there was a way to initiate conversation. "Ah good, hot water and lunch. I'll get a pail full of that water and take it outside to wash up."

In the kitchen, Dory said, "Here, I'll pour it for you," and filled a handy dishpan.

Soon they were seated facing each other across the table. He asked her how the morning had gone.

"Fine. Those kids are so smart I can hardly believe it. And cute. I wanted to hug this one little boy."

"What was his name?"

"Brian. He's about six I'd guess."

"Oh yeah, that's Brett's boy. I heard he memorized all 88 Precepts in less than a month."

"Boy, I don't think I could do that," Dory marveled.

"Oh, I'll bet you could, but you will be learning so many new things you won't have time to concentrate on just them. Which reminds me - are you ready to leam how to shoot?"

"Um, I forgot about that. Sure, but I've never even held a gun before until last night."

"That's good. It means you won't have any bad habits to break."

After some small talk about his morning, they were finished eating. There had been no rancor, but their extra-polite conversation masked tension anyway.

There was a gun rack near the bed with drawers beneath it for handguns and ammunition.

"Well, I'll get the guns and we might as well get started," Eric said, hoping that the activity would relax the atmosphere.

"First I want to change into some jeans," Dory announced, trailing him to the bedroom. Quickly she slipped out of her dress and said, "Since you're here you might as well unsnap my bra for me. You don't mind if I do without, do you?"

"Tickled to be of service," he answered, performing the requested action. After momentarily eyeing her tempting form, clad only in panties, he placed his hand on her shoulders and, peering into her eyes, said in a quiet voice, "I can tell what you are doing, Dory, and you don't need to. Sure, I love to look at you, all of you, but what will grow between us will not be only passion and sex. Damn, I just don't know how to say this because you do drive me crazy wanting your body. Hell's bells, I feel so awkward, just give me a kiss and get dressed, okay?"

However awkward, the words struck the perfect chord with Dory. She flopped on her back on the bed and beckoned him, saying, "Come here a minute."

They spent several minutes kissing and hugging as she assured him that she too was feeling like a mental basket case. Then, relaxed and comfortable, she got dressed. Carrying a variety of weapons, they left for the community firing range.

Dory proved to be a quick learner, squealing with delight when scoring a bullseye. When they finished, she asked, "Does this mean I've got to go on raids?"

"No, but if necessary women do have to defend their homes. Actually, in nature there are few creatures as ferocious as a female defending her young."

"Yeah, I could shoot someone that messed with my kids," she agreed.

"How many shall we have?" he asked.

"I don't know, but can we wait a little while? I want to get used to this place first."

"Sure, no hurry, unless we started one up last night."

"No way, I just finished my period three days ago. I keep track, you know, of when it's safe."

"You amaze me more by the hour. Are you sure you're just sixteen and not sixty? You think like a mighty experienced woman."

"Does this look like I'm sixty?" she challenged, lifting a side of her blouse to expose a tempting breast.

"Ye gads, woman! You are more female than I dreamed of. Scary even!"

"Play your cards right and maybe I'll do a striptease for you tonight, big boy." She nudged him in the ribs with an elbow.

"Hell, for that I'll put some extra aces in the deck and deal from the bottom." Arm in arm they returned to the cabin.

Surveying the barren interior, Dory said, "When are you gonna take me shopping down there?" She pointed toward the ruined village.

"Ah-ha, so Sheila has been giving you ideas, huh? Probably said I would be your perfect slave, didn't she? I know all about that wicked wench." His grin and tone of voice belied the caustic words.

"Actually, seriously, you will do most anything for me if I'm a good wife, won't you?" she challenged.

"Damn, maybe so, but you don't have to be so cold-blooded about it. It sounds like a business deal."

"Maybe in a way that's what marriage is, but you know what, I think I'm gonna like it. I mean there's probably worse sex partners than you."

"Maybe?" Her mischievous grin matched his own. "You just wait. If you thought I was a tease last night, you ain't seen nothin' yet," he threatened.

"Talk is cheap." Her eyes expressed a dare.

"Umm, see those tubs over there? They are for laundry, and that thing on the side of one of them is called a wringer. I'll bet you never did laundry the hard way before."

"You're changing the subject. You scared?"

"Wait til you have to kill, gut and pluck a chicken. Then you'll appreciate me."

"Speaking of chicken...." She was too quick on the draw for Eric.

"I surrender, you win. Women always do. I'm a lousy lover and you should have stayed with Gloria."

"Ooh, low blow, but at least you admitted defeat, so you can have your striptease anyway. I'm gonna go take a bath and don't you peek if you want a show later."

"Me, peek? I'm no pervert."

"After last night, I wonder. You sure ain't no priest."

"Ah-ha, so I was good."

"I told you, no snap judgments."

"Go take your bath," he growled at her. "I'll take mine later."

"Okay, I will, and like I said, no peeking," she repeated while pulling off her shirt, standing nude from the waist up. She giggled, saying, "See, I knew you would," as his eyes were drawn like magnets to her perky breasts.

Putting one hand over his eyes, he pointed with the other and said, "Go, you impossible daughter of Freya."

"Who's Freya?"


"Goddess of love and sex."

"Hmm, I like that, you smooth-talking devil."

"Go," he repeated.

Humming a popular song, she pranced toward the bedroom to get soap and a towel, feeling more contented than she could remember for some time.

Later, after she had roused him to unknown heights of need and desire with an impromptu but incredibly erotic striptease, he carried out his threat to tease her to distraction. After an hour of all-over body massage, her hips were oscillating wildly and uncontrollably in frantic need of penetrating relief.

In the warm after-glow of sexual satiation, they talked in comfortable relaxation. Out of the blue, she asked, "What do you think love is?"

"Are we being serious?" he asked, rolling over to look directly into her eyes. "Umm boy, that's a scary, tough question. I assume you mean love between a man and woman, not like a mother and child or some such thing?"

"Yeah, like Linda and Alf, or like in old movies."

"Well," he began after careful thought, "I think it's like two becoming one, sharing everything and wanting to do things to please each other. And sharing a cause like raising children or preserving one's own race."

"Doesn't seem like having more than one wife is 'two becoming one' to me. I wouldn't share my man with anyone."

"You don't have to if you don't want to. Some families are monogamous. But in defense of polygamy, think about this. If you have a second child would you love the first child any less, or would your love grow to include both?"

"I see your point," she admitted, "but if you want me to love you, I'm not sharing you with another woman. If that's selfish, well, I just can't help it."

"Well, there's no reason for us to fight. It's up to you, and you're all I want right now anyway."

"Do you think we will ever be able to say we love each other?" she asked, a little tension in her voice.

“I already want to, but.. ...damn, how do I say this.. .1 hardly know you. But I'm crazy about you. Can you understand what I'm trying to say?"

"Kinda, I guess, except for me it's a little different."

"How's that? The difference, I mean."

"Well, it's hard for me to put into words too, but actually I've already made up my mind. I plan to be a good mate for you if you're good to me. I can tell that you are different from anybody I ever knew. You make me feel at peace and contented and safe. Except when I have times that I doubt. Now, do you understand?"

Eric pulled her into his arms and kissed her ever so gently. Holding her tight, he murmured, "I guess some things just take time before they can be said, but can you tell how I feel right now?"

"I think so," she whispered. "Can you feel what / am afraid to say?"

"I think so, too," he whispered back.

For a long time they clung tightly to each other, a girl who had never known real love, and a man holding a dream. With a glow of contentment, they both fell asleep.

The next morning at the breakfast hour there was much exchanging of meaningful glances, touching, petting and nuzzling, as new lovers are prone to do. Conversation was finally free of the defensive and contentious repartee which both had been using to disguise their feelings, feelings about which both had been unsure.

After eating, as Eric enjoyed a cup of coffee, Dory said, "Well, I know how women come to Kinsland, at least some of us. But what brought you?"

"Oh boy, that's a long story. You sure you want to hear the whole tale? It's not really that unusual."

"I want to know all about you," she answered, her elbows on the table, chin in hands and a fond expression on her face.

"I was raised on a farm just outside Greely. But like most farmers, my dad was driven out of business by the bankers, the government regulations, and the corporate farm managers who worked in collusion with the owners of the grain exchanges. So my dad went to work for a big meat packing plant in town.

"The schools I went to, including high school, were mostly filled with Mexicans, plus a few Asians, Blacks and Whites. Naturally, like everywhere else, we Whites were terrorized by the Skraelings, and the curriculum was full of the usual guilt trip about the 'evil White man'.

"After I graduated, I enrolled at Northern Colorado State University, taking classes in agriculture along with the required social programming courses that you have to take these days in order to get a degree.

"Anyway, I met this girl, kinda pretty and real outgoing and friendly. Her name was Shirley, and we went out together a few times. Then she met this guy named Michael Perlman. I thought he was ugly, swarthy with kinky black hair and these yellowish eyes like two pee holes in a snowbank. But he had lots of money, he was real loud and flashy and had a new sports car.

"He published a campus newsletter called 'We Are One' that promoted inter-racial dating and mixed marriage. Shirley fell for him and his bullshit, hook, line and sinker. About that time I had come across some pro-White literature surreptitiously distributed around the campus by a Kinsland sympathizer.

"So one day I had just had enough. I drove my old rattle-trap of a car into the mountains, where it was supposed to be Kinsland territory, went down an old side road for a few miles, parked and sat there, honking the horn every few minutes."

Eric paused to request another cup of coffee. As she poured it, Dory prompted, "Go on."

"After awhile a couple of guys with guns showed up and asked what I wanted. I couldn't be sure they were Kinslanders, so I just said I was thinking of moving to the mountains. One of them asked if I was too dumb to know this was Kinsland territory. So I said, 'you're here, are you Kinslanders?" "That's right, you got a problem with that?' one of them said..

"Not really, I'm thinking of joining you guys,' I informed him. Well, it turned out not to be all that easy. They didn't trust me, which is natural. The System tries to send infiltrators into Kinsland all the time. Anyhow, I spent months being interrogated and watched, along with education in Aryan history, philosophy and destiny. Also, I was taught martial arts, weapons use and physical conditioning, all before going on a mission. I was so frustrated and impatient with not being fully accepted by this time that I asked to go on a solo mission to prove myself.

"Dunn, who was the senior man on the team that I'd first met, asked what I had in mind. I told him about Michael Perlman and said I wanted to kill him. McClure, the junior partner, wanted to know if I'd bring back proof that Perlman was dead, which I agreed to do. So that was how I got accepted as a KD."

"Go on, I wanna hear the rest." Dory was entranced with the story.

"One night they gave me an assault rifle and a handgun, then took me to my car, which was safely hidden away. We agreed on how they would meet me when I returned, and I was on my way."

"Weren't you scared or at least worried about being caught?" Dory interrupted.

"Not as much as you might think.. Mainly I was mad about the murder of my race and at how White males were treated. In all honesty that included myself. Anyway, I got to Greely about an hour after midnight. I knew where Perlman lived, in a private residence near the university campus. It was dark and quiet, so I used a glass cutter to carve a circle in a window near the latch. Then I put some tape across the circle, knocked it loose and reached in and unlocked the window. After that I climbed inside and then it was easy." Eric paused to sip more coffee.

"So, did you kill him, and what did you bring back to prove it?"

"I'd brought the stem of my bumper jack from the trunk of my car because I didn't want the sound of a gunshot if I could help it. He was in bed with a woman, so I just hauled off and caved his whole skull in with one swing. Then I grabbed the woman and covered her mouth so she couldn't scream. It turned out the woman was Shirley, but I wasn't sure of that in the dark. I let her see the gun and warned her not to scream while I tore off another strip of tape and covered her mouth.

"I hadn't intended to abduct anyone, but when I turned on a light and saw it was Shirley, the idea just popped into my head. So I returned to Kinsland with Shirley in the trunk of my car, and Perlman's wallet and ears in a plastic bag."

"His ears!" Dory made a face that expressed something that he wasn't sure of.

"Well, I didn't have anything with me to chop his head off with," Eric explained.

"What happened to Shirley?"

"McClure took her for a mate. They live in a community over near the Utah border now."

"Why didn't you keep her for yourself?"

"I was waiting for a really good woman named Dory," he kidded, thinking he was clever.

"Okay, you are a smooth-talking devil," Dory admitted, "now be serious."

"Even if I had wanted her, which by now I didn't, I wasn't a full-fledged KD. One mission doesn't establish a man's right to join a community, take a mate, and reproduce. Kinslanders don't make "snap judgments" - to quote a woman I know. So I had no place to give her a home even if I had wanted to."

"In school they told us that KD raped every woman they could get their hands on, and apparently this Shirley was what you call a 'race traitor'. If I'd been you, I'd of raped the bitch." The venom in Dory's voice betrayed an anger that an "ex" had existed in Eric's life and had treated him dishonorably.

"I guess some young KD have taken their pleasure with race traitor women at times," Eric admitted. "Undoubtedly Viking raiders left few virgins behind when they raided convents filled with nuns a dozen centuries ago. Taking your pleasure with the conquered enemy's women is as old as the existence of humans. But seasoned KD who see the big picture or who are just naturally deep thinkers are not likely to take a woman's favors by force. I'm not saying it's wrong. Wotanists don't believe in the Christian 'sex is sin' insanity, so what you call rape is in effect just another act of war. But it brutalizes the men who do it, endangering their instincts to protect and provide for women in general. So under the principal of leading by example, I would never do so.

"Besides, taking a woman's favors by force is no challenge. Nature made us men bigger, faster and stronger so we could catch you women. But that's not an even playing field. The real challenge is in making you want to do the man/woman thing. At least, that's how I see it."

"You know something I like about you?" she asked, placing a hand over his.

"What's that?"

"I know you are telling the truth. You could have raped me instead of being so gentle. You had all the power, and I was a captive."

"That's not a snap judgment?" he kidded.

The time had flown by and it was nearly seven a.m. "I've got to get to work," Eric exclaimed, jumping to his feet.

Their parting was in stark contrast to the previous morning's as they shared a gentle kiss filled with unspoken meaning.

Dory arrived at the school before Sheila and immediately started a fire in the stove. When Sheila arrived, she was reading a book on European history first published over a hundred years earlier. She gave dory a cheerful greeting. Dory returned it, then observed, "Boy, history really has been rewritten over the last one hundred years, huh?"

"Oh yes, and if you think modern European history books are bad, wait until you see what they have done to America's history. It's all about the 19* and the 39th Precepts, the reason the System rewrites history."

Dory pulled out her copy of the 88 Precepts. The 19* Precept read: "A people who are not convinced of their uniqueness and value will perish." The 39* Precept read: "A people who are ignorant of their past will defile the present and destroy the future." She felt a sense of righteous anger over having been lied to all her life. No wonder the KD were so willing to fight, kill, or even die for what they believed.

"I've got so much to leam before I'd dare to start teaching, so is it okay if I just watch and study again today?" she asked Sheila.

"Sure, take all the time you need. I'm not due for several weeks yet, so I'll be here to handle classes."

Re-reading the Precepts, Dory came across the 35th Precept which got her to thinking about something she had told Eric. This Precept read: "Homosexuality is a crime against nature. All nature declares the purpose of the instinct for sexual union is reproduction and thus, preservation of the species. The overpowering male sex drive must be channeled toward possession of females of the same race, as well as elements such as territory and power which are necessary to keep them."

She had told Eric about her escapade with Gloria and he hadn't seemed to care. She made a mental note to ask him why.

Engrossed in studies and in conversation with Sheila at recess time, the morning passed in a flash for Dory and she returned to the empty cabin, where she prepared lunch and eagerly awaited Eric's return.

When he arrived, they greeted each other with ever-growing familiarity, affection and companionable conversation.
"Are we going shopping this afternoon?" she asked.

"Good idea. I need to knock some lumber out of some walls for partitions, and you can roam around and look for goodies. I'll go down to our vehicle stash and get a truck right after lunch."

They talked about items she desired for fixing up the cabin. Then she broached the subject she had made mental note of earlier.

"I was studying the Precepts this morning, and there is one that says homosexuality is a crime against nature, but you didn't get a little bit upset when I told you what Gloria and I did. How come?"

Eric drew on his knowledge of history and human nature to answer her question.

"You know, Dory, all through known history women have been denied access to men, or to nature-decreed sexual appetites. Convents for nuns, harem quarters, all-girl schools, for example. And of course in times of war the male population was decimated. So it appears that women often satisfied their sexual needs with each other. I believe that such relationships are wrongfully called Lesbian. They are substitutions for men. A Lesbian is a woman who truly prefers sex with women over sex with men, and there aren't many such women of our race. Women have good instincts. Even if they have been involved in affairs with one of their own sex, almost invariably when the right man becomes available they prefer him as a sexual partner. Just like yourself. You do prefer me to Gloria, don't you?"

"Of course, you big dummy," she giggled nervously.

Eric continued, "Anyhow, since Wotanists don't believe in that Christian nonsense that 'sex is sin', and because nothing is more dangerous to people's freedom than unnecessary laws and nosy busy-bodies, neither Lesbianism nor substituting a woman for a man are worth making a big deal about."

"What about threesomes, two girls and a guy, with the girls putting on a show with each other for him to watch? That seems to be what most guys want."

"Well, I don't know much about that, but you just said, 'a show for their guy to watch'. Seems like there's still a man at the root of things, so I still wouldn't call it Lesbianism, even though I suppose they enjoy the sex. Shirley told me that she thought most women had a secret urge to try it with another woman at some time in their life. But even if she was wrong, I know women are born actresses and they love to put on a show."

"For a man, you sure know a lot about women," Dory observed, "and yeah, I think lots of girls want to try it with another girl at some time. I even had a crush on a teacher one time. And I wouldn't mind putting on a show for you, but no one ever saw me and Gloria."

"So do you think the girls in threesomes really enjoy the sex with the other gal?" he asked.

"Oh, unless they have some hangups, they would have to. I mean, a girl's body responds to touch, especially in certain places regardless. A tongue or a finger inside her or tickling her love button, and her mind isn't thinking, and her body is just squirming around wanting it. That's as honest as I can be," she answered. "Now you be honest, you would have loved to watch me and Gloria, huh?"

“Wow, you like to put me on the spot, don't you? Well, you were honest, so I will be, too. Men get turned on seeing women's bodies, and two are twice as exciting as one, and I am a man. But the way I feel right now, I am content with just one woman and that is you."

Dory's radiant smile and her one-word comment ("good") convinced Eric that he had said the right thing.

"So it's male homosexuals the Precept is referring to?" Dory asked.

"In my opinion, yes. Queers spread diseases and they are notoriously promiscuous. And most importantly, in times of racial peril our men must fight for women and territory."

"So do you kill queers?"

"If they came out of the closet and advocated such a 'life style', I'm sure the KD would execute them."

They had finished lunch, so the discussion ended. Eric went to get a truck while Dory cleaned up the kitchen. When Eric returned, he advised her to get her gun because no one ever left the community unarmed. For himself, he selected an assault rifle. They started for the village.

On the way Dory said, "I've got another question."

"Shoot."

"Who are the Sons of Muspell and how did they get the power to sentence our race to death?"

"Wow, good question and pertinent. How about after supper tonight we go over some true history about the power of money and the people who call themselves 'God's Chosen Pets'?"

"The Sons of Muspell and God's Chosen Pets are the same thing?" she asked.

"Yes, and their history and the power of money are among the most important topics you need to understand in order to be a good teacher."

Eric parked on a street where several undamaged houses were still standing adjacent to one another. Taking a large crowbar with him, he entered the first house while Dory went exploring.

Three hours later they returned home, their truck laden with building materials and a large variety of furniture, housewares and decorations. Two more hours and everything was unloaded into the cabin, and they were both more than ready for supper.

After supper Dory brought up the subject of the Sons of Muspell again, but at the same moment Eric cocked an ear and said, "Listen." The sound of folkish musical instruments could be faintly heard drifting through the cool evening air.

"We can talk later. That's our music makers and it means an impromptu dance tonight. Let's get cleaned up and join 'em." Then, realizing he wasn't leaving choices, he added, "if you want to."

Dory in fact immediately relished the idea and naturally asked what to wear.

"Most of the gals will probably wear full skirts for square dancing," he advised.

An hour later the new mates entered the community hall to the sound of energizing music coming from harmonicas, guitars, an accordion and a fiddle. Others from throughout the community were still arriving too, and most took pains to again welcome Dory.

Among the arriving throng she spotted Trebor. Although the elder of her abductors wore casual clothes for the evening's festivities, there was still an aura of dangerous reserve that seemed to project from his slim compact form, and everyone treated him with special deference.

Trebor was accompanied by two young women of such unusual beauty that Dory reacted defensively as the competitive nature of females dictates. She nudged Eric's ribs and said, "I suppose those two are the new mates you told me Trebor had captured?"

"Yup."

"They are pretty, aren't they?" She was fishing for an assurance from Eric that she was prettier than the elegant parr now approaching them along with Trebor.

Wisely Eric responded, "not as pretty as you."

"Kinsman," Trebor greeted Eric and received the same greeting in reply as they exchanged forearm grips.

"Dory." He inclined his head in courteous salutation.

"Trebor," she answered in formal reply.

"Candy, Heather, I want you to meet Dory. Dory, Candy and Heather." There was more stiff formality as the three touched hands while sizing each other up. Three beautiful women in one small group makes for a volatile combination, was the thought of both men.

After a demonstration of a dance called "clogging" — something like tap dancing, but with a lively beat and energetic music - by a dozen of the children and young people, there was mead passed around. As each person in turn took a sip of mead they proposed a toast to a hero or heroine of Urd, Verdandi or Skuld.

"What do these words mean?" asked Dory in a whisper.

"They are the Norns, the three Goddesses of fate, all sisters. Urd represents the past, Verdandi the present, and Skuld the future."

"What shall I say when it's my turn? I don't know any heroes or heroines."

"The Gods and Goddesses are our ancestors. You can always toast one of them."

"Okay, which one? What name?"

"How about Freyja? Just raise your cup and say, 'to Freyja, Goddess of love and beauty'."

Dory’s toast was greeted with rousing choruses of "Hailsa" from the participants, eager to make her feel welcome. After the toasts there was square dancing and polka, which while new to Dory appealed to her Aryan racial soul.

Later, when Eric and Dory were comfortably ensconced in bed, for the first time neither felt either pressure or passion for erode activity. Companionable conversation and bonding seemed a natural pleasure, but neither was quite ready for sleep either.

"So, you were gonna tell me about the Sons of Muspell," she reminded him.

"Oh boy, that's a long and important story, so if you get tired or have questions, just interrupt, okay?"

"Sure."

"First of all, can you picture in your mind the continent of Europe, where most of our people lived two thousand years ago?"

"Yeah, basically I guess, although I couldn't name the countries or identity their borders."

"But you can picture the Mediterranean Sea with Europe above the western end and Palestine, also called Israel on the eastern end, can't you?"


"Yes."

"Well, two thousand years ago our folk had their own organic indigenous religions, and the most common among them was what we now call Wotanism, with Wotan - pronounced "Votan" - as the highest God. In the British Isles and in Scandinavia he was called Woden and Odin respectively.

"Now at this same time, two thousand miles away at the eastern end of the Mediterranean there was a tribe of bankers and merchants that controlled the trade between the three continents of Asia, Africa and Europe. For example, ivory from Africa, spices from Asia and furs or metals from Europe. The Greek geographer Srrabo and others who lived at this time stated that the tribe of bankers and merchants ruled all nations.

"Now as I go on, Dory, please bear in mind two things. First of all, except for merchants, almost no one traveled far from their local villages or tribal territories in ancient times. So Israel could just as well have been from the moon to most of our ancestors. Second, remember that when looking for historical truths, the best answers are found by asking the question, 'who benefits?'

"How did a new religion with strangers from far-away Israel being called 'God's Chosen People' come to replace our native religion? To answer that question, ask yourself, who are the only people that could benefit from spreading a religion throughout our nations in which they themselves were called 'God's Chosen People'?"

"You are talking about Jews, aren't you?" Dory interrupted.

"I'm at least talking about people who call themselves by that name, yes, although that too is a complicated subject."

"Okay, so how did it happen?" Her curiosity wasn't feigned.

"First they hired the Legions of Rome to conquer the Western world in what we call the Roman Empire. Then when after several centuries it became difficult to hold such a vast empire together by force, they created a universal religion in an attempt to unite the many races, nations and factions of the empire. The word 'Catholic' means 'universal'. In the new religion they called themselves 'God's Chosen People', and they had the Legions murder or torture anyone in Europe who would not accept this absurdity. So a thousand year war ensued before they finally subdued the last of our true folk who were called Vikings.

"In 787 A.D. as Christians reckon time, a man calling himself 'Charlemagne, the Holy Roman Emperor' called a treaty conference with forty-five hundred leaders of our people from central Europe, all of them followers of our indigenous religion. Then he surrounded them with a Christian army and cut off their heads, every one of them. That's how the suicidal slave religion we now call Christianity was forced on Europe and our folk.

"And so, more of our White race has been murdered or tortured in the name of the Christian God than by any other influence in history except America."
"How did the Sons of Muspell get so much power?" was Dory's next logical question.

"That involves the power of money and of usury, which is the practice of charging interest on money, and it takes awhile to explain. Are you sure you wouldn't rather wait til tomorrow sometime? You must be sleepy."

"Not really, and I like your voice. I can't believe anyone can know so much about history. So tell me about usury."

"Okay, but first you have to know who the Sons of Muspell really are. Throughout history, kings and bankers and merchants have arranged marriages between their offspring and the offspring of other merchants, bankers and rulers in order to cement relationships, increase their power or make more money. So naturally a mixed race of people came into being in Israel, which, as I said, was the crossroads for trade from Asia, Africa and Europe. This mixed race are called Semites, of whom the Sons of Muspell are the most successful. And long ago as bankers they discovered the power of usury and fractional reserve banking.

"To understand usury, you must first realize what money is. Money is a device used as a store of value and a medium of exchange. Probably once upon a time long ago, people just traded for things. But eventually they needed a way to exchange things of unequal value. For various reasons they usually settled on gold or silver as money, so they could trade it for either the difference or for a complete item.

"But there was a problem with weighing or measuring gold and silver, so it was smelted into coins. If all men were honest, this would have worked fine indefinitely. But soon dishonest men began to mix other metals with the gold and silver and kept the extra for themselves.

"Even worse, bankers came up with the idea of issuing scraps of paper that were redeemable in gold or silver. They told the suckers it was for their own good to use these scraps of paper instead of gold or silver for trade because it was so easy to carry and hide.

"But, just so long as the masses of people believed there was an equal amount of gold or silver in the bankers' vaults, it didn't matter if there was or not. So the banker could lend out many more scraps of paper than he said were redeemable in gold or silver than he actually had in the vaults. And he charged interest on every scrap.

"Let's look at how usury makes bankers rich. Suppose you go out and buy a home for $100,000 and finance the purchase. You will sign a loan agreement agreeing to pay the lender about $900 a month for 30 years. That's over $300,000, but you only borrowed $100,000. So the lender made $200,000 or enough money to buy two houses like yours.

"The difference is, you will spend most of your adult years working your ass off to pay the mortgage and earn your houses. The banker does nothing. He cuts no lumber, he hammers no nails, he does no plumbing, he does nothing but sit and grow fat and rich off the labor of others.

"That's the power of usury, and it is how the Sons of Muspell got the power to rule the world and sentence the White race to death. Naturally it is all cleverly disguised with artificial complications, and the Sons of Muspell bought the media so they could control the masses, cover up their actions, and decide the fate of politicians. And of course they forever claim they are persecuted when in fact they are a parasitic pestilence that enslaves the whole world."

"Wow, they are clever, aren't they?"

"Yes, and also cruel, dangerous and hypocritical! But enough of that, let's get some sleep."

By mutual and unaudibilized consent they declined expressions of sexual passion in favor of drifting into easy sleep.