Bacchus

"Mr. Rykov, you have been trumpeting your message of personal responsibility pretty loudly for the last little while. I have to ask myself, where was your personal responsibility when your daughter was being gang-raped by a bunch of grubby Genies?"

Pietr froze for a split second as his personal pain for that event was still fairly raw. Realizing the question was just the start of Ronnie's attack, he countered with a calm question. "Do you not understand what personal responsibility means?"

Ronnie had been expecting a far more aggressive response, so he was unprepared for the question. "What? Of course, I do!"

"No, I don't believe you do. If you did, you might have asked a more intelligent question such as Do I feel personally responsible for my daughter's attack, to which I would have answered, No, but as a father, I deeply regret she experienced such a horrific ordeal at what was reputed to be a safe and exciting vacation destination. Personal responsibility is the act of taking ownership of the consequences related to decisions you made. Decisions based on reasonable expectations. Should I have expected Maintenance Worker Genies to defy their protocols and attack a guest of Bacchus? No."

Ronnie's face was becoming red. No one talked to him like that on his show. The gloves were coming off. "Was she in some way personally responsible for enticing these workers into thinking they were invited to play?"

Pietr took a casual sip of water to give himself time to reign in his urge to kill the man. "So a victim of abuse is personally responsible for the abuser's actions? You still don't seem to grasp this simple concept. If a woman walks down the street naked, you believe she is responsible for the actions of a man who disregards all civilized moral and legal constraint and rapes her?"

"No! That wasn't what I said! Your daughter has shown up in the tabloids in various states of undress during her outings at night clubs. They're like wild beasts at play. Bacchus is the perfect extension of that lifestyle. It should have been a reasonable expectation for you that events would get out of hand!" Ronnie bellowed.

"I'd like to answer that by asking Bron a question. Would it be possible to get a microphone over to him?" Pietr said calmly to Ronnie, then cast a look to the floor manager. A portable mike was found, and a crewmember carried it over to the Genie. While that happened, Pietr did a little search on his comm unit and put it on his lap. He looked across at his daughter and smiled gently.

"Bron, the Maintenance Worker Genies you were forced to kill; what section did they work in?" Pietr asked.

"They wore green jumpers, so they worked clean-up in the restaurant district," he replied.

"Do the worker Genies get to travel to any sections other than those they are assigned to be in?" Pietr asked.

"No, the discipline collars give us shocks if we stray outside of our assigned zones," he said.

"Between the restaurant district and where you encountered my daughter, are there any bars, night clubs, gambling dens, sex clubs, or any entertainment of a rougher nature?" Pietr asked a little louder.

"No, sir."

"One last question, Bron. Can the guests of Bacchus just walk into the living areas of the workers?"

"No, sir."

Ronnie began to bluster, but Pietr slammed his comm on the desk. "You don't have to take the word of a grubby Genie. Here is a map of the restaurant district and where my daughter was found. Walking down the street looking for a restaurant, she was grabbed by thirteen workers and dragged inside their living complex. She was beaten, then they attempted to rape her when Bron arrived and acted to stop them. The workers were operating well outside of their design protocols--completely anomalous and unexpected behavior. Bron was forced by humans to kill his own kind every day, yet he went out of his way to save the life of a human he didn't even know. Why did he do it? Because he could. THAT, sir, is personal responsibility. Do. You. Understand. NOW?"

Ronnie's face was deep red, and he was struggling to keep from striking his guest. The show went to a commercial. Ronnie signaled to the stage manager to cut the mikes. When he got the nod, he leaned towards Pietr.

"You fucking arrogant son-of-a-bitch! You think you can come on my show and show me up? I am going to fucking ruin you. When I am done, you won't be able to get a job serving burgers. Why? Because you'll be dead! Do you know who you're fucking with? I personally put Senator Wilson in the grave. He thought he was pretty big shit until my friends in the police found the illegal porn we planted at his house. The best shots were of his sweet daughter, who'd barely turned eighteen. The boys picked her up after school and had a real good time with her. The things they did to her! Hell, I personally enjoyed breaking her after we got the shots. I understand she never recovered. And Wilson, that fuck, offed himself. Coward! Oh yeah, you're going down, and you're taking your fucking slut of a daughter with you. She'll be turning tricks on corners to pay for a drug habit my people will arrange for her one night very soon. Maybe I'll fuck her tight little ass before it gets too loose from all the johns taking their turn. Then I'll laugh on your graves when I plant you two as well."

"There you go, surprising me again, Mr. Brown. Here I thought you had no idea what personal responsibility was, yet you provide example after example proving you can take responsibility for your actions," Pietr said with a smirk.

"God damn, you are one fucking cheeky bastard. I'm going to enjoy destroying you and your daughter. You're both dead, you know that, don't you?"

"Oh, I think you've made it quite clear that you are a murderer, a rapist, a conspirator, and probably many other vile things. As a human, you hold no redeeming value and are a worthless piece of excrement. I wish you good luck in jail, though. Senator Wilson was well-loved by the inmates of our prison system since he worked so hard to ensure they were humanely treated."

"What the fuck are you talking abo--" Ronnie's face froze as he looked down at Pietr's comm.

"Yes, that's a live feed to the world network. Everyone, and I mean everyone, got to hear your confession of personal responsibility--even your studio audience. Bravo," Pietr smiled.

Ronnie stood up, his mouth flapping. Then he reached under the desk and came back up with a gun.

There was a terrible pop and screech of feedback, and everyone grabbed their ears. Plastic and metal shrapnel splashed all over Ronnie's desk and Pietr. A second later, Ronnie toppled over, the gun falling from his nerveless grip. Pietr stood up and looked over at the unconscious man lying on the floor behind his desk. He had a deep gouge on his left temple and bits of plastic and metal clinging to him. Bron and Angelina rushed over to Pietr's side as he shut down his comm and pocketed it.

"What did you hit him with?" Pietr asked Bron while he flicked bits of debris from his suit and hair.

"All I had was the microphone. When he pulled out the gun, I threw it at him. I didn't realize it was still on."

"Well, thank you for saving my life once more," Pietr said, shaking his hand. Bron noticed some trembling in the hand he held. Angelina grabbed her father in a fierce hug and cried on his shoulder. He tenderly kissed the top of his daughter's head. With the cameras still rolling, this image would appear on the front page of all the major news sites the following morning. Pietr's press secretary was once more delighted!

The police arrived and took Ronnie into custody. The crew of the show were being detained as well. Some had already fled. With Ronnie's confession that he had a team of conspirators, everyone was a suspect.

As they watched, the police drag the thrashing TV host from the studio, Bron mumbled something.

Pietr looked up at the big man. "What was that?"

"I want him... to die," Bron whispered, twitching as his conditioning punished him with a shot of pain.

"You're likely to get your wish. Now that the truth is out, I suspect his life expectancy is very limited. Considering he implicated the police, he may not survive the night. And that would be a shame because I want every single one of these fuckers exposed and stuffed into a dark pit somewhere," Pietr growled. "I think we'd better head home. I've had enough danger for one night."

Chapter 9

Angelina and Bron kept a low profile over the next week. By the third night, Angelina was feeling cabin fever. Since they weren't going out, they invited the entourage back to the house and had a small, intimate party there. Her Dad was away for the week, so she had the place to herself. As a ploy to ensure no recording devices were snuck into the house by her girlfriend's dates, all arrivals were asked to strip down to their lingerie or underwear before moving beyond the foyer. If you were going commando, you could choose to continue to wear nothing or choose from a selection of grannie panties and bras or grandpa boxers. All other clothing and devices brought into the house were stored in plastic tubs labeled with the owner's name.

Bron did the honors of collecting the items, putting them in the bins, and storing these in a secure RF shielded room.

Five of the ladies brought dates. Rhonda had a male model named Anno. His body looked like it was sculpted from obsidian by Michelangelo, and he wore the smallest G string underwear possible, which left nothing to the imagination. Aside from the smug look for bringing such a hot specimen, Rhonda wore a pink lace panty and bra set that looked amazing against her dark skin. Sasha, wearing gold pasties over her nipples and a white G string, brought Dan, the mechanic who worked on her motorcycle. He was more than a little rough around the edges. He looked a little stunned to have been included at the party and ended up wearing some grandpa boxers. Sarah wore plain white panties and a bra, and she brought Rika, a rugby player from one of the national league teams. She'd met him in a club the night before. Proud of his muscular body, he opted to remain commando, much to Sarah's delight. Her sister Rachel wore a plain black panties-and-bra set. In her leopard pattern bra and panties, Vicki brought a bartender named Jason, who wore his own boxers. That morning he'd shooed Vicki from the dance floor when they'd closed the club just before dawn. She countered his expulsion by inviting him to breakfast at her place then to the party. Surprised, he accepted.

Stephie surprised everyone by arriving with Scottie, Angelina's ex-boyfriend, on her arm. She had always had a crush on the tall, slim, aristocratic young man. After Angelina broke up with him, she warned Stephie to be careful because of his temper, but the heart wants what it wants. The young woman had a lovely lace bra and panty set, and Scottie wore black boxers, which surprised Angelina as he was more of a brief's man.

The ladies enjoyed seeing Bron without clothes, but they were shocked and dismayed when all they saw between his legs was smooth, featureless skin. As each woman moved further into the house, they found Angelina and pulled her aside to question her about it. She repeatedly assured the distraught ladies that he definitely had the goods. He just didn't keep them on display. She refused to say more than that, but her wicked grin fired her friends' curiosity to a feverish pitch.

The house had a large room in the basement with comfortable couches and chairs facing a low firepit. The heat it threw off was real, but the flames were very accurate holograms. There was a bar against one wall where everyone could help themselves ease into the relaxed mood. A projection system aimed at a large screen against one wall to watch movies should the mood strike. Hidden speakers pumped out a strong beat and her friends pulled their dates up to dance. Bron danced with whoever felt like dancing and didn't have a date. After Vicki wore out Jason, she dragged Bron out for several dances. Even Bailley danced with Bron. Most of the male eyes in the room watched as she swayed to the music. Some were discreet, but Rika couldn't tear his eyes away. His commando state made his excitement very obvious and earned him a direct slap from Sarah on the offending appendage. He wasn't too pleased, but got stared down by both Sarah and her sister.

For once, Bailley seemed oblivious to the stares and was really enjoying herself dancing. Angelina was so pleased to see her friend happy, and it just made her love Bron all the more.

She caught Scottie watching her and saw a cruel smirk on his lips before he schooled his expression and looked away. Stephie's expression showed nothing but excitement for having landed her dream date. Angelina's heart broke a little for her friend. She knew Scottie wasn't here for Stephie, but there was nothing she could say.

"It's time for party games!" Sasha hooted. Angelina looked over to her friend, who was putting slips of paper in a series of bowls. Next to the bowls were a stack of shot glasses and a bottle of spiced rum.

"What are we playing?" she asked.

"Truth or Dare, of course!" Sasha grinned. Angelina rolled her eyes, and some of the others groaned.

Sarah and Rachel didn't understand the thrill of this game because they always told the truth, and there wasn't anything they were embarrassed or uncomfortable saying.

"Ah, ya cry babies! I was only kidding! I've made up a new game I think you're all going to like!" Sasha bellowed. "Gather around people while I explain the rules. Oh yes! There be RULES!"

The guests sat down on the couches in a circle around a small coffee table with Sasha's bowls. Once she had everyone's attention, she began.

"Okay, here we have three bowls. One contains our names. One contains actions. The last one contains the names of body parts. We will each take a turn pulling two slips from the name bowl and one slip from the action and body part bowl and placing them next to their bowls. This is where the fun begins. If the body part exists on both people, both people have to do the action to the other person's body part. If the body part only exists on one of the people, then only the one without it has to do the action to the person with the body part. If the body part doesn't exist on either, they get to skip the turn. Clear so far?" She looked around and saw nods, nervousness, and excitement.

"If you refuse to do the action, you have to quickly down a shot of spiced rum. However, if your partner is willing, but you refuse, then you have to take two shots, yours and theirs. Pretty soon, you won't be refusing the actions," she grinned at her friends.

"After we finish the fifteen turns, we will see if we are in any condition to continue. Yes, Asami. Spiced Rum, your Achilles Heel!" she grinned evilly.

"As the leader of this game, I will pick first, followed by Vicki to my right, then around the circle. Here goes!" she said with a flourish and dipped her hand in the bowls without looking.

"Okay, I have Asami and Vicki with the action touch with fingers, yes I had to be specific, and the body part bare ass. Get to it, girls! Woo!"

Asami rolled her eyes and stood up as Vicki did. They walked over to the open area next to the dance floor. Sasha hit the remote, and the music pumped. Vicki's eyes closed in pleasure, and she smiled as her hips rolled sensually to the music. She slid her hands down her torso to hook her thumbs into the waistband of her leopard panties and slowly slid them down over her tight ass. Asami was smiling at her friend and moving to the music as well. Though not as fluid as Vicki, she also began a little striptease for the group who were hooting and whistling by now.

The panties only dropped low enough to expose their smooth ass cheeks. Asami was first to reach out and grab the flesh of Vicki's ass. She looked back at the group with a false look of shock, and her friends exploded into laughter. She let go, and both turned around so Vicki could have her turn. She slid her fingers down the soft flesh, and Asami bounced her ass in time to the music. Vicki laughed as the cheeks shook in her hands. She pulled away to the cheers of her friends and their dates. The two women pulled up their panties and made their way back to their seats with big grins.

Sasha put the slips back into their appropriate bowls and mixed them up again. It was Vicki's turn to pick.

"Anno and Stephi, Kiss..." Vicki smirked at the look of horror on Stephie's face. "Belly Button"

Stephie burst into giggles and couldn't stop. Anno stood up, and her giggling got worse.

Rhonda took pity on the girl and poured her two shots of the spiced rum. Stephie nodded vigorously and slammed back the first. Her face, which had been pinking up from embarrassment, went beet red as the strong rum burned its way down her throat. She whooshed out a breath when she got the drink down, then reached for the second as a cheer went up. The second shot followed the first, and she wiped her eyes with a grin on her face. Anno sat back down with a smile on his, and Rhonda patted his hard thigh appreciatively.

Next, it was Jason's turn. After a little fumbling, he read them out. "Angelina, Scottie, Lick, and Neck." He hadn't finished reading, and Angelina was pouring herself two shots. Scottie reached over and took one.

"Presumptuous, aren't we?" he teased, smiling, but there was an edge to his tone that Angelina read very well. They both tugged back the shots, then it was Stephie's turn.

She was already feeling the warm rum smooth away reality's rough edges. "Bron! Yay, Bron! Uh... Bailley. Kiss, Earlobes. Oooo!"

The rest picked up Stephie's teasing, and Bron looked around confused. Bailley looked like she wanted to pass, then she studied Bron's innocent look.

"Can we dim the lights so Bron can remove his goggles?" she asked. The room lighting was already fairly subdued, but it would have still been uncomfortable for him.

Angelina tapped a remote, and the lighting slipped down into a very intimate dimness. "Is that too much? Our eyes should adjust shortly. How about you Bron, is that okay?"

Bron slipped the goggles up his forehead, slowly uncovering his eyes. It was still just a little bright but not painful, so he nodded. Bailley smiled, and several of the other women made appreciative noises when they finally got a look at his eyes. It was the first time they'd seen him without his goggles, and they liked what they saw. Angelina thought she caught a look of distaste on Scottie's face, but he looked away sharply before she could tell.

Bailley stood up and held out a hand to Bron, who joined her where Asami and Vicki had been moments before. She looked up into his eyes, and any trepidation she had dissolved when she saw the trust in his beautiful eyes.

"I'll go first," she said, then she realized for all her height she wouldn't be able to reach unless he bent down awkwardly. She giggled at the uniqueness of being with someone so much taller than herself. She pulled an ottoman over and had him kneel on it, which brought them face to face. Bailley felt a thrill run up her spine. She hadn't done anything like this in years, but for some reason, she felt safe with Bron. He wouldn't judge her. He didn't idolize her either. She was just a friend.

She leaned in on his right side, and her friends all leaned forward. Bailley and Bron were presenting their profile to the group, so as Bailley gently sucked Bron's right earlobe between her lips, they couldn't see nictitating membranes over Bron's eyes flicker in bliss or his mouth opening in surprise. Bailley felt his breath rush out in a gasp, and his muscles tremble. She smiled because he'd given her the confidence to try being intimate again without fear, and he'd rewarded her with his honest reaction. She pulled back, and Bron was closing his mouth and eye membrane, flicking away the dizziness.