By the time the news came on, Jay was already settled between them. And not by accident.
Lakshmi sat to his left. Her long, thick legs were tucked beneath her on the couch, posture relaxed but alert. Though she was not cold in her scrubs, her mother had insisted she put a thin, colorful Kalamkari shawl over her shoulders. Intricate botanical patterns decorated it in hand-dyed richness. Anika herself sat to his right, close enough that her arm brushed his whenever she shifted, her sari folded neatly over her knees, the faint scent of cardamom and warm milk clinging to her.
Rajesh, Lakshmi’s father, was gone. The study door down the hall was closed. The house felt quieter for it.
The Vallurupalli living room was modest - family photos on the walls, a small shrine in the corner with a brass lamp still warm from earlier prayers, the television perched on a low stand that had seen better decades. Nothing about the space was grand, but it was orderly, intentional. Lived in. A place where routines had been followed for years - and, lately, rewritten.
Just moments ago, Anika had returned from the kitchen with three small bowls, porcelain edged in blue, steam still curling from their surfaces.
“Basundi,” she’d softly, when she’d offered it, setting one into Jay’s hands before he could protest. “I made it with your formula. It is thinner. Easier, for you.”
Dr. J looked at the dessert. It was pale gold and glossy, thickened milk slow-cooked until it had collapsed into sweetness, studded with slivers of almond and pistachio, saffron staining it the color of late afternoon. The familiar scent was there - comfort, celebration - layered now with something subtler, engineered: his formula folded into it so seamlessly he wouldn’t have known if she hadn’t told him.
He tasted it, with a spoon. Warm, rich, indulgent. Though its familiar taste made a part of him feel trapped, its comforts eased his shoulders despite himself.
Anika watched his reaction with quiet satisfaction before sitting again, close, her knee angled toward his, her presence an anchoring weight. Lakshmi noticed - she noticed everything - and hid a small smile behind her spoon. Her mother, at forty-eight, made these two closer in age than he and herself, or he and Melissa...
On the television, the local news anchor leaned forward, lips parted in practiced concern.
Alicia Ray, news anchor for WGGB Channel 5 looked immaculate, as always - glossy dark hair, a fitted top that emphasized her figure, eyes bright with the particular intensity her audience had recently come to love all too easily. The result of Product, Lakshmi knew. Ms. Ray was a Far Horizons study patient, and had been part of the clinical trials. So, if people thought she was beautiful now…just wait.
The station logo pulsed in the corner of the screen.
“This is where you work!” Anika exclaimed, eyes wide.
“-what authorities are now calling a violent, well-coordinated act of domestic extremism,” Ms. Ray was saying, footage from outside Far Horizons from earlier today rolling behind her: flashing lights, blurred police tape, a shaky phone video of people being herded back from a cordoned-off street.
Jay felt Lakshmi’s posture change instantly. He looked up at her, her brow was knitted, listening, analyzing.
“Mm, ‘well coordinated?” she murmured. “That is generous.”
The report pressed on, breathless. The ‘Sons of Resistance’ were named as the likely culprits. Their presence as an underground terrorist group was contextualized, sharpened into something monstrous. Pundits had speculated, Ms. Ray explained, officials promised decisive action. The phrase public safety was repeated until it began to sound like a spell.
“They’re making it sound like a war zone,” Jay said quietly, more to himself than anyone else.
Lakshmi snorted, soft but unmistakable. “Please. I have heard that the device barely functioned. Bad wiring. Wrong setup. It was more embarrassing to whoever left it there than dangerous.”
Anika glanced at her daughter, then back at the screen. Her expression was thoughtful, not dismissive. “Even so,” she said after a moment, calm and measured, “men like that do not stop on their own.” She paused again. “If you let this sort of anger sit, it grows teeth.” She lifted her bowl, spoon clinking gently against the porcelain. “Sometimes it is better for everyone if an example is made.”
Lakshmi didn’t argue. She just nodded once, slow.
Jay became acutely aware, then, of where he was sitting, of the way Lakshmi’s right arm rested along the back of the couch behind him, not quite touching, but close enough that he could feel the soft promise of it. He was aware of Anika’s shoulder and formidable bosom forming a solid wall at his right side, heat radiating through the thin fabric of her house sari. Their bodies framed him - not trapping, not aggressive - but unmistakably intentional. He was flanked. Held.
On the screen, Alicia Ray spoke about the government’s response to the bomb scare, ‘necessary actions’ and ‘protecting the future’. The words washed over him, but the meaning shifted, refracted through the quiet confidence on either side of him: the steady weight of Anika’s presence, and the clarity in Lakshmi’s voice when she spoke:
“I am sure there are women planning on doing something about this quickly,” she said, “there are many who have been looking for an opportunity just like this one.”
Jay understood dimly.
“Let me take that from you,” Anika insisted, removing the empty bowl and spoon from his hands. She placed them on the low table in front of them, then met Lakshmi’s eye in a moment charged with portent.
Lakshmi nodded.
Anika took the next moment with the remote control to lower the volume to nearly mute, then sat back in - a hair closer, this time, pivoted at the waist towards him - to check on him. “Do you need more food? Water? More rest?” With the voice of Alicia Ray gone, it was suddenly clear that the outside world no longer dictated the emotional temperature of the home: these two women did. Anika’s hand lingered at Jay’s shoulder a moment longer than strictly necessary.
Jay found himself nodding automatically, the way he had earlier at the dinner table. The question she’d asked - Food? Water? More rest? - hadn’t felt like small talk. It felt like an inventory, like she was taking stock of him, calmly assessing what he required. Had he just noticed her eyes glance down to his lap?
“I’m okay,” he said. He understood, again dimly, that he was safe here - but not in charge of himself. He realized he’d eaten more than he expected. He felt heavier - but also calmer. “Just…tired.”
“Here, use this for warmth,” Anika offered, slipping the colorful silken shawl she had draped over her daughter’s shoulders earlier off of Lakshmi and putting it onto his lap. She spread it out, dutifully, across his thighs. It smelled of the home, spiced and fragrant, and likely of her daughter already. She wondered if it was lost on him that the perfumes from her body were what was keeping him from becoming sick again, as he had been earlier today when he’d fled to the forest. Probably not.
“Thank you,” he replied, and looked glad for it; the erection that had begun to swell down his left thigh would be better concealed.
“Mmm,” Anika murmured, as if confirming something she already knew. She adjusted the edge of her sari at her shoulder, settled more fully into the couch. The warmth at Jay’s right side increased, subtle but undeniable.
Lakshmi watched the exchange with open interest. She didn’t look at Jay at first. She looked at her mother, at the way Anika angled her body without thinking. At the way her voice softened without weakening. At how Jay’s breathing had slowed, his shoulders no longer hunched as if bracing for something that hadn’t happened yet. And, unless her ears were deceiving her, she could have sworn she heard her mother purr.
Lakshmi tilted her head, thoughtful. “You do that very well,” she said casually.
Anika blinked, and then smiled almost bashfully. “Do what?”
“Take care of him,” Lakshmi replied.
Jay felt heat creep up his neck.
Anika’s lips parted, then curved back into a small, uncertain smile. “He is a guest,” she said, “And he has been through a lot.”
Lakshmi hummed. “Like dad?”
Dr. J saw it then: a flicker in Anika’s eyes, as if she had just recognized something.
Lakshmi leaned back, one knee tucked under her, voice thoughtful rather than teasing. “You have always known how to steady dad when he is…untethered. You are good with men,” she said. “That will help, as the world changes. You do not rush them. You do not argue. You just make it clear what is expected, and what they are safe doing.”
Anika glanced toward the hallway - toward the closed study door - then back to Jay. Her gaze softened further.
He realized, with a faint jolt, that he’d gone very still.
“Dr. J is very small, isn’t he?” Lakshmi said, her voice almost a whisper to her mother. An encouraging whisper. “He needs women’s care.”
“He is,” Anika acknowledged, a hint of an unmistakable excitement in her voice, “and he does.” Women everywhere were finding themselves attracted to small, weak men. The smaller and weaker the better. And Anika, though she was Lakshmi’s mother, and older than Dr. J himself, was still undeniably a woman. “Jay,” she said gently, saying his name as if testing how it sat between them, “You are safe here.” Her right hand came to rest on his right thigh, through the shawl and near the knee. “You do not need to decide anything tonight. You do not need to be anything.”
“It is okay to be vulnerable with us,” Lakshmi echoed, seeing Dr. J’s eyes for the first time drawn to her mother’s torso. He had been doing his best to be polite all evening, but was starting to lose the will to resist.
Lakshmi leaned in a little closer on his left, her thick leg brushing his under the thin shawl. Her voice was soft, steady, the way it got when she was explaining something delicate to a frightened patient.
“Melissa told us you two talked tonight,” she said. “About… what her body has been doing to yours.”
Jay’s breath caught. His eyes went first to her, wide and suddenly glassy, then to her mother. Then back to her.
“And I told my mother, so she understands why-“
“Why you are getting so small,” Anika emphasized, squeezing his right knee gently. His fragile knee, so tiny in my hand.
Lakshmi nodded, gentle but unflinching. “She did not mean to hide it from you. It is just…” Lakshmi sounded contrite, but was not apologizing for Melissa, for her friend. “It happens without her deciding. She feels you are in danger, and she needs you closer, so her body…responds. It changes you so you fit better in her care. Smaller, so you are easier to protect. Needier, so you stay near her. It is not punishment, Dr. J. It is the deepest kind of love her body knows how to give.”
Anika’s left arm slid fully around his shoulders now, warm and heavy, drawing him in until the side of his head rested against the soft swell of the side of her breast. The sari’s fabric was thin; he could feel the heat of her skin, the slow rise and fall of her breathing.
He thought to pull away, feeling immediately as if this was inappropr-
“Shh,” Anika murmured, her voice a low, soothing hum that vibrated through her chest into his ear, quieting his concerns. She and Jay both looked to Lakshmi, who nodded gently. “Listen to Lakshmi,” Anika continued, “She is right.”
Dr. J swallowed hard. His heart was thudding again, but slower this time, like it was trying to match the calm rhythm of the two women surrounding him.
“It is okay if it scares you,” Lakshmi continued, her hand settling lightly on his left knee under the shawl, “I know it probably does. But think about it. Since this started…have you ever felt more wanted? More…necessary? Melissa loves you so much it is almost frightening. She would move the world to keep you safe. And that is what she is doing, her body is doing exactly that - one inch at a time.”
Her left arm over his shoulder, encircling him, Anika’s fingers began to stroke his hair, slow and rhythmic as she peered down at the top of his head, her breast pressing a fraction closer with each breath until she nestled its warm curve fully against his cheek. These breasts of hers, which had grown so large and heavy as she grew older, were at times a burden. In times like this, though, she was thankful for them.
“It sounds as if Melissa loves you more than you can imagine,” Anika whispered, lips near his crown. “And love like that…it is powerful. It changes everything it touches.”
Dr J’s eyes fluttered. The flares of anger he had felt in the car ride over here, the sharp edges of betrayal - he sensed them dulling, softening under the weight of their voices, their warmth, the steady pressure of Anika’s breast rising and falling against his face. Maybe…maybe they were right. Maybe it wasn’t all in the name of control, or dominance. Maybe it was…protection, for him. And maybe, deep down, he had needed it all along.
Lakshmi, possibly sensing him soften, tightened her fingers just slightly on his knee, a gentle anchor.
“And it is not just you,” she went on, her voice calm, almost clinical, but warm enough that it wrapped around him like the shawl. “All of us - the girls at the clinic - she is changing us too. Growing us stronger. Making us taller. Creating women around her that are more…capable.”
“Yes. I am so proud of you, Lakshmi,” Anika purred.
Lakshmi, warmed, continued. “It is happening to Shanette, to Randi, to me. To all the Far Horizons girls,” she said, explaining the ‘Melisssy Effect’, “and - you must know by now - The Product? It is based on Melissa’s genetics. It’s making all our study subjects like her. So it is now happening to women we have not met yet. It is spreading.”
Jay’s breath stuttered. He tried to sit straighter, but Anika’s arm was already there, curved around his back and shoulders, palm upon his head cradling it to her. The soft weight of her left breast had settled more firmly against the side of his head as she leaned in to listen, the sari’s thin fabric doing nothing to hide the warmth or the slow rise and fall beneath it. Each time she breathed, the plush curve pressed a fraction closer, cradling his temple, his cheek, until his ear was tucked just beneath the swell.
Lakshmi watched the way his eyes fluttered, the way any protests he had had died unspoken, and a small, knowing smile touched her lips.
“You see it already, right?” she said softly. “We are becoming what she needs us to be for you. Guardians. Protectors. The world is shifting, Dr. J, and we are shifting with it - so we can keep you safe.”
Anika hummed in agreement, the sound vibrating through her chest into his skull. “Yes,” she murmured, her voice richer now, emboldened by her daughter’s words, “Women will keep you safe.” She shifted again - needing to do so just barely - and when she turned his head a fraction gently towards herself the full, heavy weight of her breast settled over his head like a warm, living pillow. His face sank deeper into the yielding softness, muffled by silk and skin, her heartbeat a slow, steady drum against his right ear. “That is so good, Jay. Stay right there.”
His thoughts were scattered: I should pull away. I should say something. But the warmth, the scent - cardamom, milk, something deeper and womanly - made his eyelids droop. His body felt suddenly heavy, boneless.
Lakshmi’s smile widened, gentle and proud. “Look how well he listens to you, Mom,” she said, voice low and encouraging. “He is already calmer. He is going to become very attached to you if you don’t watch out.”
Anika’s breath caught, a tiny hitch of surprise and pleasure, letting herself - just for the moment - imagine the possibilities. A little man like this, attached. Her hand moved down to the back of Jay’s head, fingers threading gently into his hair, holding him there against her breast as if it were the most natural place in the world for him - though they’d met for the first time just an hour ago.
“Yes,” she whispered, the word trembling with new certainty, “He does listen very well.” She looked down at the small man half-buried in her chest, his cheek flushed, eyes glassy, lips parted on shallow breaths. Her heart swelled - maternal, possessive, thrilled. “Jay,” she said, voice soft but ringing with quiet authority, “if you ever need anything - anything at all - you can come to us. We will help you. I will help Lakshmi take care of you too. Always.”
The promise settled over him like the weight of her breast, and in that moment - tiny and pillowed against her - Dr. J felt exactly how small he was becoming.
As if in echo, Lakshmi encouraged her mother some more. “Mom, just look at the size of his head next to you,” she said, gently, “or his leg next to yours…”
Jay felt the words land like a soft, warm weight on top of everything else. His head - his entire head - was cradled against the vast curve of Anika’s left breast, a living pillow that dwarfed his skull, his cheek sinking deep into yielding softness until his ear was pressed flat against her heartbeat. From this angle, the underside of her breast curved out above him like a silky horizon. He could see the faint outline of her nipple beneath the cloth, stiffening slightly as if aware of his gaze.
Meanwhile his leg - thin, shrunken, barely longer than her forearm - lay alongside hers under the shawl. Her thigh, under her skirts, was likely similar to her daughter’s: thick, smooth, powerful. His would look like a child’s beside it, pale and fragile against the warm brown of her skin. The comparison made something twist low in his belly: shame, yes, but also a dizzying rush of heat that pooled straight to his groin.
Anika’s hand stayed threaded in his hair, holding him there, while her other rested lightly on his right thigh. It had started, gently, to move up and down its length, in gauging its size.
Lakshmi watched his face with quiet satisfaction, then leaned in a little closer on his left side.
“You have been happier since it started, haven’t you?” she said softly, voice like warm honey, “I have seen it. I knew you before. Now? Less stress. No decisions to make. No weight on your shoulders. Just…cared for. Surrounded by women who adore you. Who want nothing more than to keep you safe and close.”
Jay’s throat tightened. He opened his mouth to argue - something about independence, about losing himself - but the words tangled. Anika’s breast shifted with her breath, pressing warmer against his cheek, and the protest died into a shaky exhale.
Lakshmi’s fingers traced a slow, soothing circle on his left knee, and she was aware of the erection that lay trapped nearby. “Think about it, Dr. J. Before…you were always carrying everything. The practice. The worry. Pretending you had it all under control. Now? You do not have to pretend anymore. You are free to just…be you.”
Anika hummed agreement, the vibration rumbling through her chest into his face. “Yes,” she murmured, fingers tightening gently in his hair, “Free to be happy.”
Jay swallowed hard. His cock throbbed under the shawl and his sweatpants, traitorously eager. Part of him wanted to sink into the warm pool of relief and adoration, but another part - the last stubborn fragment of someone he thought he used to be - clawed weakly at the edges.
“I…I don’t know,” he managed, voice small, “It’s…it’s terrifying. Becoming something I didn’t choose.”
Lakshmi’s smile was gentle, patient. “But what if her body knows better than you?” she asked, voice soft but piercing. “What if Melissa is changing us - all of us - into something amazing? Something the world has never seen? Don’t you want to find out what that could be, and be part of it? Would that not be, really, what is best for you? Best for everyone, everywhere?”
Lakshmi paused, thinking.
“And what if you helped? Helped make her be everything she ever wanted to be? Imagine what the world could look like then, if you decided to help. Help us guide Melissa.”
But wouldn’t I be a traitor, to my gender? If I do that? If I help her…do…fill…grow? When he stiffened, when he moaned his dismay, his thoughts were as clear to Lakshmi, and Anika, as if they were spoken.
“But you want this, I know,” Lakshmi said, reassuringly, knowingly, “A future where women take care of their men? There are so many of us that want to do this for you. But there are also many who would not make it so easy, who want to show men that their place is somewhere different. A colder, harder place. You cannot want those women in charge, can you?”
The question hung in the warm air between them, heavy with the frightening promises of a world changed.
Jay’s breath came shallow against Anika’s breast. His hips shifted involuntarily, cock aching. He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Not yet. But when he tried - lips parted, a weak protest forming - Anika’s hand tightened ever so gently in his hair, cradling the back of his head as she drew him a fraction closer. The soft weight of her breast settled more firmly over his cheek, warm silk and warmer skin muffling the world.
“Shh,” she whispered, calm and absolute, her voice a low, soothing hum that vibrated straight through her chest into his bones. “You are resisting my daughter’s ideas because you are scared. But it is okay to need us, to need women, little one. It is the natural way of men.”
Lakshmi’s fingers traced slow, reassuring circles on his left knee, inching higher under the shawl with every pass. “It is okay to want women to be in charge,” she murmured, agreeing seamlessly, her tone gentle but unyielding. “And you do not look like someone who wants to stop us, Jay. So - why not be part of it? Help us build this new world…and make it one where you are safe, treasured, exactly as small as you need to be adored. And you do not need to decide now. For now, you can rest.”
Both women’s hands moved in tandem now - Anika’s stroking the length of his right thigh in long, languid sweeps, Lakshmi’s mirroring on his left, fingertips brushing dangerously close to the rigid tent rising over his left thigh. The shawl shifted with every caress, the fabric of his sweatpants teasing heated skin. He began to groan.
"Shhh…shh,” Lakshmi hushed him, whispering down to him, “It is okay to need this. I know it has been many hours since your urges were fed."
He stiffened, humiliated. She was not wrong. It had been at least five hours since Ashleigh…in Melissa’s bed…had-
And the promise of Lakshmi’s hand on his thigh, so close.
“B-but if I..?”
“Yes, she will know, if you let me do this, because I am one of her girls. I am connected to her, like that,” Lakshmi answered him. But then her eyes went to her mother.
Jay’s arguments dissolved into helpless whimpers, muffled against the plush curve of Anika’s breast. She had begun to rock him - slow, rhythmic, the way a mother soothes a restless child - her body swaying just enough to press him deeper into her warmth.
Lakshmi’s hand paused at the very edge of the thin, tented shawl, close enough that he could feel the heat of her palm. “You are changing, Dr J, becoming a new version of yourself,” she said softly. “It is a you that you have always dreamed about being deep down…but it is still scary, isn’t it?”
Jay’s throat worked, a stammer rising and muffled in Anika’s tit. “Y-y-y…Y-y-”
“Yes,” Lakshmi finished for him, gentle and certain. Her voice had dropped to the same tender, patient cadence of her mother, one used for frightened children. “That is right. It is. And it is normal to be afraid of change.” She leaned in, her breath warm against the back of his left ear. His face was buried in her mother’s breast.
“I think you just need a break, from Melissa,” she murmured, fingers leaving his thigh to reach for her mother’s hand, taking it and pulling it towards her until it finally settled - lightly, barely grazing the fabric - over the aching swell of his arousal beneath the shawl. “Time to cool down…to think, with some space, reflect on what Melissa provides, and what the world could be if you help her along…and let Mom take care of everything.”
Anika had been holding him fast, but now she gently released him, let his head drift a bit away from the side of her left breast as she pivoted at the waist towards him. She straightened her back, pulling her stomach tight in front of him and pushing them forward. Do you see how big they are Jay? Do you see how soft I am? He was so small, so perfect. She wrapped her left hand back around the back of his head
”May I?” she asked her daughter.
Lakshmi nodded.
Hand cradling his head she guided his face until his nose pushed fully into the swell of her left breast, her heartbeat steady and loud, her nipple a firm point grazing his lips through the sari and making him mewl a needy whimper but try to turn away.
“Hush now, little one, you do not have to think any more,” Anika whispered, lips into his hair as she held him fast and made eye contact with her daughter, who nodded again. “Take a break, here in my household. Just breathe…and let the women hold you.”
Lakshmi’s fingers paused their slow circles on his knee, her touch light but deliberate. She tilted her head, studying him with that calm, knowing gaze that saw straight through him. “You have been looking for a mother figure, haven’t you?” she said softly, not accusing - just stating a truth she’d observed long ago. “That is really what you want.”
Anika’s hand tightened gently in his hair, and - looking down at him, how small his head looked against her breast - spoke. “You have one right here,” Anika whispered, voice thick with a tenderness that trembled at the edges with something deeper - excitement, longing, a hunger she’d buried for years under duty and patience. She guided him a fraction deeper into the warm pillow of her left breast, the sari’s fabric rasped softly as she shifted, pressing the full, heavy swell more firmly against his face. “Let this be your mother figure, tonight.”
Jay’s breath stuttered against the silken swell. His cock throbbed painfully under the shawl, trapped in sweatpants that suddenly felt far too tight.
Lakshmi’s eyes met her mother’s over his head - a silent exchange, warm and understanding. A nod. Permission. Encouragement.
You have been dutiful for so long, Mom. Lakshmi’s eyes said, You deserve this.
Lakshmi sat back slightly, giving space, but her hand moved with purpose - sliding under the thin shawl, fingers brushing the waistband of his sweatpants. She tugged it down just enough, freeing him into the air beneath the Kalamkari, then guided Anika’s hand under the fabric until her warm palm closed around his bare, aching length.
Anika’s breath caught - a soft, wondering sound - as her fingers wrapped around him, skin to skin for the first time. He was hot, rigid, pulsing in her grip against the silk. He was also huge, likely twice the size of Rajesh.
She knew immediately what to do.
“Let Mommy help you relax,” she cooed, voice low and maternal, beginning to stroke him slowly - long, deliberate pulls from base to tip, her thumb gently circling the head on every upward glide. “Shh, sweet boy… that’s it. Just feel Mommy’s hand.”
Jay whimpered into her breast, hips jerking involuntarily. Doubt flickered in him - this is wrong, this is Lakshmi’s mother, and Lakshmi is right here - but the warmth of Anika’s palm, the steady rhythm, the way her breast muffled his protests…and everything Lakshmi had told him. It all, somehow, felt so achingly right.
Anika’s excitement was swelling with every stroke, her breathing deepening, nipple hardening against his mouth and lips through the sari. “Good boy,” she whispered, pace steady and indulgent, “Mommy has you. You are safe…let it come…let Mommy take care of everything.”
Lakshmi watched, eyes soft with pride, and reached to tuck the shawl more securely around his hips - keeping him warm, keeping him hidden. She could tell, though, that his resistance frayed with every slow pull of her mother’s hand. His hips now rocked into her grip, muffled groans vibrating against her chest.
“Shh, let it out,” Anika murmured, feeling him tense, feeling him fight the edge one last time. “You are safe, little one…come for Mommy…”
He broke.
The climax rolled through him in hot, helpless waves, spilling over her fingers and into the silk of the shawl in thick pulses. Jay groaned - long, muffled and broken - face buried deep in her bosom as shame and relief crashed together.
Anika held him through it, stroking gently until the last shudder left him limp and spent. “Good boy, good boy,” she whispered, over and over, pressing kisses to his hair, “Such a good boy for Mommy.”
Lakshmi leaned in, tucking the colorful shawl around him more snugly, her hand resting lightly on his back beside her mother. She cooed to him, purred to him, praised him. There were big decisions to be made, but for the moment, the world outside could wait. She told him he was warm, he was held, and - whether he could admit it or not - exactly where he needed to be.
The television murmured on in the background, forgotten.
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B-Side images for higher-level patrons coming over the next few days