They had only been home for an hour or so. The house staff had brought their luggage up to their quarters, leaving it near the foyer, so they could have access to what they needed. Ken had sent them away after that. The bags could be unpacked later. He was energized. They had had a wonderful time. Collectively, everyone had enjoyed themselves. He knew that Miranda needed some time to just have him all to herself though. She had showered first, and he was just getting out. She met him in the bathroom as he was finishing toweling off. She had slipped on an off-white silk blouse and fitted black trouser pants. She glided towards him, brushing appreciate hands over his freshly cleaned torso.

Ken had spent his entire life needing to keep himself fit. Age was starting to take its toll, but he knew that his physique still showed off the years of those efforts. Miranda's desire for him certainly hadn't seemed to decrease. She took his wrists, sliding her much more feminine and slender hands over each and he allowed the towel to fall, spreading his fingers for hers to link with his. He tried to turn to kiss her, but she stopped him.

"I want to move this to the back room," she whispered seductively, "and I want to be in charge."

Ken shifted his lips to a half smirk and smile and let out a soft "hmm" of approval. She didn't do this very often, generally she craved him being in charge, but every now and then, it was nice to have a break. He allowed her to turn and direct him to the small room tucked at the back of their quarters. The architects had likely originally designed it as an extra storage space, but there was no shortage of storage in the mansion. He supposed it was their version of a playroom, but Miranda was too subtle for it to immediately appear as such. There was only a small window with a heavy curtain, and they were on the top floor minus the walk-up attic, anyway. Two luxurious dark leather upholstered chair and halves were positioned around an oversized leather ottoman. They faced a large flat screen tv and entertainment system, currently behind closed cabinet doors. It was an intimate setting that they used to watch movies generally together, but occasionally with Tina and Malone. The furniture had also gotten a lot of action over the years. The back wall was also completely upholstered in even darker leather, in what appeared at first glance to just be intricate patterns, but Ken knew where his wife was leading him. Built into that leather wall was a St. Andrew's cross.

"Turn," she commanded. "Assume, the position."

He did as asked, backing into the wall and spreading his legs out and his arms up and out. He waited in position for her to attach the black leather cuffs and expose the hidden eye hooks to lock him in place. Once everything was attached, he relaxed into the restraint, the cuffs smoothly holding his limbs. He was already starting to get hard. She pulled something else out of one of the built-in drawers from the side wall and returned to him. She stroked him slowly, up, and down, varying pressure, shortly bringing him to full erection. She then dropped her hand to rub his balls. He smiled gently, watching her. But he figured he had at least an inkling as to what was coming. Sure enough, she smoothed his delicate scrotal tissue, pulling it and his balls down enough to wrap a leather ball stretcher around him, holding his testicles down. Ken groaned, mostly in pleasure, but just on the edge of discomfort. She attached a light leashed chain to the front D-ring and dropped it to the floor.

She stepped back, pulled up the wheeled black leather stool from the corner and sat down in front of him, crossing her legs and resting her bare feet on the stool's footrest.

Ken knew his wife. Great. This was a complete set-up. She wanted to talk to him about something and she wanted his complete and undivided attention.

It didn't bother him that his wife currently had him completely by the nut sack. She had figuratively for decades anyway. Their sexual time together was generally targeted at dominance and control. Since Miranda was so dominant in controlling every aspect of life around the compound, she needed the release he could give her when they were intimate. In general, he was in charge. She would give herself over to him, relaxing into submission, letting him take over her body and therefore her mind, releasing for him in pleasure over and over again until she was blissed out of her head, and he was satisfied. If he was being honest, he craved it nearly as much as she did. It was the only time she was forced to obey him. It rebalanced their relationship and benefitted both of them.

Neither of them had ever desired to get into true S&M. Not that he couldn't take it; he dealt with enough injuries over the years. It just didn't translate into sexual release for him. They had the occasional couple over the years that it did, but it wasn't something they encouraged. Sure, he would often spank Miranda or take a whip to her, gently, but he never went further than just a teasing sting. He had no desire to mar the perfect expanse of his wife's gorgeous skin. God, she was beautiful. He never knew what he had done to deserve her.

Miranda sat looking at her bound husband. She always wound up at a loss whenever she had him in this position. Sure, she enjoyed the visual of seeing him bound, but she always shortly ran out of ideas of what to do with him. It just wasn't in her nature. Her husband, on the other hand, never seemed to run out of ideas of how to vary how he bound her or brought her to screaming release.

Her eyes dropped to his manhood. The man was also hung. He certainly wasn't the tallest or most muscular guy in the group, not easy amongst a bunch of athletic ex-militants that routinely worked out as part of their jobs, but there had been only one, maybe two, cocks over the years that had rivaled her husband's, and she had seen nearly all of them. Said cock was currently standing at attention, periodically tapping his lower abs as it twitched, the strap holding his balls low and away. She had been thankful on more than one occasion that God had not given her a petite frame such as Shelly's. Seal was above average, but her husband would likely repeatedly bruise the poor girl. There were often times she could still feel him inside her for days, after one of their extended sessions.

Unfortunately for both of them, he was going to have to stand there feeling pent up and frustrated, at least for now. She had things to discuss, and points to prove. Minus well rip off the band-aid.

"Zia's pregnant."

Ken's face, if it was possible, shot to even redder than his balls. He puffed his cheeks. She braced for the onslaught she knew was coming. There was a reason she had locked her husband to a wall.

"WHAT the EVER-LIVING FUCK! I'll kill him. Gary's Fucking whelp can't keep it in his Fucking pants! Miranda, Let me up! LET ME UP, RIGHT FUCKING NOW!"

He thrashed against the restraints, even going so far as to bang his head into the pad behind him. "MIRANDA!"

Realizing that his conniving wife knew exactly what she was doing when she had strapped him up like this, he turned his anger on to her.

"Bitch!" he sneered. "You let me down right now or so help me, I'll…"

He didn't get any further as his wife had put her feet down, slid the stool forward to grasp the chain just below his balls and tugged downward.

"OH, OOOooo!" he ground out, the pain short circuiting his rant.

She kept a hand on the leather loop at the end of the leash and pushed the stool back to a few feet in front of him.

Ken panted, trying to calm himself through the residual shock of pain.

Miranda spoke calmy. "Do you want to try that again, dear?" She gave a little pull on the leash and this time spoke sternly to the enraged man in front of her. "Do Not Forget Who you are speaking to, hon." She was expecting him to act irrationally. She had tempered most of her husband's rage issues over the years, but sometimes it was still there, smoldering under the surface, and generally more likely to come to head over things that he was more emotionally close to. The problem was that her testosterone filled husband still had some trouble recognizing his emotions, and when that happened, he could be a complete dick. She still wasn't going to allow him to disrespect her.

Ken pulled on the restraints again, purposedly whacked his own head hard about three times into the padded wall, swallowed hard twice, let out a deep breath, tried to clear his vision from something other than red, as he scrunched his eyes shut. Three more calming breaths and he opened his eyes to look down at his wife. "I am sorry, my dear. I apologize for speaking to you like that. As usual I don't deserve you." He shut his eyes again, his head thick with the realization that his plans were again about to be waylaid. God, he had waited an extra five years for Phil's arrival. He was angry. He wasn't just angry, he was pissed. He felt his anger returning. "But, FUCK, Miranda! You know what this means! Of course, you do! They couldn't have waited? I don't know, given me a couple of good years of service?" His chest heaved as he spoke.

Miranda took pity on him. She stood, approaching him. She placed one hand on his hip and one on his cheek. He was still angry, but he still sighed into his wife's touch. She bent her head to give him a soft kiss. Stretched out like this, he was a good two inches shorter than herself. "Ken," she started. He looked at her. "I know you know this, but it's not all about you."

He started to open his mouth and she quickly dropped her index finger over his lips. "Let me finish," she glared at him, "or so help me, I will gag you." She softened her expression, "but, I do want this to be a two-way conversation. So shut up, for now, so I can say what I need to."

Satisfied that he was going to at least try, she continued, "First, I know that you don't really expect Phil to have kept it in his pants when you are well aware that we encourage all the couples to get down and dirty as much and as soon as possible." She took the opportunity to push herself against his front. He moaned and shifted to thrust against her as much as he could. She smiled at him, and then shifted back. She pulled up the stool to sit but moved close to him.

"You know as well as I do that our aim is to extend our happiness to those that we choose to surround ourselves with and that we want happy, satisfied, paired people." Ken slowly nodded. "People get pregnant, dear. We did, as you remember."

"Yes, and I love our son but if you remember it was a complete disaster for most of his childhood," he retorted.

"And, you learned a new path. You found out how to be a father and a commander of an elite group of men, while keeping yourself, them, and your family safe," she re-directed. "Zia was on the pill. They didn't plan this."

Ken started to open his mouth again, but closed it, seeing the look she gave him.

"What I want to talk to you about is another new path."

Ken looked down at the utter love of his life, his now softening dick, took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm listening."

"Good," she responded, "thought you might."

Ken smirked with a light chuckle. He knew he could be a bit pig headed and his wife overall was the brains of the operation. Whatever she had to say, it was probably worth hearing her out.

"So, first, Phil and Zia are both at the age that if they wanted kids, they needed to get on it anyway. Deep down, I think you already realized that your timeframe was never going to work." She paused as he went to open his mouth again, glared at him once more till he closed it, and then continued, "and I think that is partly why you are so angry. Malone and Tina had their son before you had grabbed them. Clancy and Suzanne have been content to not have kids. Tumult and Mollie have an adult niece that they treat like a daughter since her parents both passed away. Zackquarius and Randy, well. Stevens and Stacy are trying, but are having trouble."

"I didn't know that," he interrupted.

"That's because they didn't want to say anything to you unless they were successful," she shot back, but then quickly dropped her snip. Her husband really did care, when he was thinking straight.

Ken's brain, and therefore his heart was coming back to him. "What do they need?" he asked. Despite his business side being against it, he wanted his people to get what they wanted.

"You let me worry about that. I'm already on it," she assured. "As I was saying, and every other couple we have is getting to the age that they need to put up or shut up if you get my meaning."

He did. Time was beginning to be the worst enemy for them all.

"So, I have been putting a lot of thought into this, and hear me out, but I think it's high time we break the no kids at the compound rule."

Ken was by no means a panic'er, but kids in any semblance of jeopardy was the one thing that did it for him. It gave him a strong visceral remembrance, bringing him right back to the day he lost it and hit Ethan.

Miranda saw it in his eyes. "Ken," she quickly stood to embrace him again, "that's not going to happen again or to anyone else. You, this operation, has evolved. We are so much more on the up and up then we were even a few years ago. Things are, as a result, safer. You've made more than enough money. My family's fortunate is intact. It's time to switch gears. Ethan is getting married and I want him to come back home with his new wife. We need to start thinking about our retirement."

"Retirement? I am not retiring. How old do you think we are?"

"We're not young, dear."

Miranda continued, "I've been in preliminary conversations with our lab contacts. They have a team of new young scientists that have been able to build on Wu's research. They have enough checks and balances in place to prevent the crazy that came along with his unbridled genius. They need us for a combination of protection details and early training with the new hatches. The want to expand, potentially for additional species and additional programs, all aimed at minimizing casualties and even some humanitarian work. This is as responsible management as this can get. It's not perfect, but it's close." She paused, letting her words sink in. "Ken, we can do this. We can do this for us, for our son and daughter-in-law to be, and for our couples."

"I don't know," Ken shook his head slightly. It all sounded too good to be true.

"Ken, we're moving to a different part of the journey. We don't need new, younger people every few years anymore. We do need to take care of the people we already have. We're older, we're more mature, our resources have expanded, we're progressing."

Ken looked at her, still unsure.

"There's more. I spent time, when you were off with Ethan, in conversation with Gary and Nora about this. Nora has connections with a second genetics company that is interested, and the military certainly is. We are looking to establish a union of all interested parties, for additional cross checks, to keep everyone inline, and of course," she winked up at him, "to maximize profits."

"Of course," he shook his head at her.

"Ok?" she asked, hopeful.

"Can you promise me nothing will happen to anyone's kid?"

"Ken, you know I can't promise you that. But anything can happen to any of us at any time. I do think that we are the safest we've ever been and that it's time to move forward."

"Ok."

"Ok?" she asked again, confirming.

"Ok."

"Good. When we're done here, you need to go congratulate Phil and Zia, and we need to let them and the rest of the couples know we have a major policy update."

"What do you mean, when we're done here?" he asked, hoping he was interpreting correctly.

Miranda slid off the stool to her knees in front of him. His dick almost comically shot back up to attention.

"I think you've earned your reward."

She grasped his base, looked up at him as he strained against the restraints to get as good of a view as possible, and sank her lips down around him. Her husband groaned loudly, dropped his eyes and his head back and gave in to his wife's ungodly ministrations. He never grew tired of her or her talents.

Miranda had learned through much practice how to adjust to accommodate her husband's length and girth. She was frequently concerned that she would at some point choke on something that wasn't her husband's dick, since she seriously didn't think she had any remaining gag reflex. Still, when he got to thrusting, especially when she was the one tied down, his size could be a in pain in the, well, whatever orifice he happened to be in. Fortunately, tonight, she was the one in control. She took both hands and slammed his hips into the wall, holding him steady. "Stay," she commanded. She didn't remove her hands, but moved her mouth, lips, and tongue in the most devilish patterns she could construct. It wasn't long before Ken's breathing pattern shifted to what she knew was him reaching his peak, and she swallowed the saliva in her mouth to make room for his cum that shortly followed.

Ken sank down to one knee once he was fully released from the restraints, wrapping his arms around his wife's waist, pulling her flush to him. She had left the ball stretcher on him while she sucked him to completion. It was just a hair shy of painful, so she didn't use it on him very often, but it did intensify his release when she did. At the moment, he was spent and very satisfied in more ways than one. "I love you," he said softly to her, placing a solid kiss to her abdomen, "my beautiful, amazing, beyond brilliant wife." She never ceased to amaze him. Where would he be without her?