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Ladies of the Lake Ch. 01

By: julybear7



Before you all complain and ask where's the incest, trust me, it is pervasive. If you have read my earlier stories, you know I don't always flag the taboo. If you are new to my work, again, just trust me. 

I hope you enjoy my little tale of witchcraft.jb7

*

LADIES OF THE LAKE

Rick Stuart was tooling along just under the speed limit on the divided two lane, top down on his MGB, enjoying the early summer day, not really paying attention to the traffic. He guessed he was about 500 yards behind the car in front of him, and a hundred or hundred and a half yards in front of the guy behind him. He knew that shortly he would be hitting a straight away where he could goose the roadster and for a few minutes experience some speed. As low to the ground as he was, seventy would feel like a lot more. 

As he rode the curve into the anticipated straight stretch, he saw brake lights flashing ahead. Only then did he realize that he had not seen any on-coming traffic in several minutes. He swore at the probable delay, and took his foot off the gas to coast and slow for a couple of hundred yards, then gently braked to a stop.

The line in front of him began to slowly move as drivers took up the space between the waiting cars. With a small sense of relief, he saw some vehicles coming toward him in the oncoming traffic lane. Recognizing one of his company's trucks in the lead, he stepped out of his car and crossed into the grassy median, waving his arms at the approaching truck. He was aware of several other drivers following him into the median. 

"Hey, Mr. Stuart," called out a driver he recognized. "I'm afraid you're gonna have a bit of a wait. While I was waiting to be let through I heard a couple of the state cops talking. It's a seven or eight car pile up, with at least three dead. They're waiting on the ambulances before trying to get anyone else out. They got out all the emergency cases and fire threats, but they think they're gonna have to cut four people out of their cars.

"Christ, Pete, what the fuck happened?"

"Near as they figure, right now, the driver of a tractor trailer rig was speeding, not paying attention, and suddenly jerked his wheel to avoid running over a car. He jack knifed and flipped over on his side, and slid up the highway, crossing the grass, wiping out a bunch of cars." As Pete was reciting the details of the accident, the other drivers drifted back to their cars. He noticed, and waved Rick closer. 

"Mr. Stuart, if you're in a real hurry to get back to the city, about a half mile ahead, there's a turn off to the village of Gold Lake. It's about ten miles longer, but the road will bring you right to the expressway ramp at City Line. And it's all good road. That little MG of yours won't have any problem with it at all."

"Okay, Pete, thanks. You on a delivery run?"

"No sir, headed home. Wife's waiting dinner on me."

"I won't keep you any longer then. Enjoy your weekend."

'Thanks, Mr. Stuart, I will. You, too."

Rick looked at oncoming traffic. It had slowed down to nothing again, and up ahead, he saw his lane begin to inch ahead. He jumped into his roadster and started the engine. Easing it into gear, he pulled out and crossed the median, then turned into the oncoming traffic lane. He stepped on the gas, bumping up the speed so that he reached the left turn to Gold Lake in a bit less than half a minute. Barely slowing, he took the turn, fish tailing as he hit some loose dirt and gravel.

The side road, approaching the two lane, hugged the mountainside. Rick found himself driving down into a golden valley, The entire mountain was covered with a variety of quaking aspen, unique to the valley, golden from Spring through the Fall. As the MG topped a slight rise in the road, he spied a lake off to the right. Reflecting the trees and the sunlight, it looked like a pool of molten gold. He was dumb, awestruck at the vista laid out before him.

As if of its own accord, the MG slowed to a crawl as he took in the view. Across the lake, he could see, the trees came right to the edge of the water. Some of the shore line was cliff like in structure, ground level some fifteen to twenty feet above the surface of the lake. Crawling along the road at about twenty miles an hour, he noticed signs near a driveway leading to the lake. When he was able to read them, he could not believe his eyes. A year round cottage, on this lake, was for sale .

Although the driveway was dirt, it was even and offered no impediment to the MG. He turned into the drive and in a minute or less, was parking near the golden lake's shore, behind a small two story house. As he unfolded out of his car, he saw an attractive blonde, about thirty, emerge from a neighboring building.

"Hello," she greeted him. "Did the realtor send you?"

"Uhh, no. I was admiring the view, and saw the for sale sign by the road. I couldn't believe there would be a home for sale by this lake." He extended his hand. "My name is Rick Stuart. I work for an advertising agency in the city."

"Welcome, Mr. Rick Stuart. I'm Roberta Duncan. People who know me call me Bobbi. My sisters and I own the lake and most of the land surrounding it," she answered, smiling and taking his hand in a firm grip. "Would you care to see the cottage?"

"Very much. I'm getting married this summer, and the one question Sharon, my fiancé, and I haven't quite settled is where we'll live after the wedding." He looked at the lake, his mouth open in wonder. "You say you own most of the land?"

"Yes. The lake is actually a small caldera, the top of an extinct volcano. It is sort of donut shaped, with a dome in the center. Although around the shore the depth varies from six to twenty feet, there is an area in the center where the lake is only two feet deep. 

"Our private land extends from the shoreline a mile into the woods all around the lake. Except for directly across from us where it only extends in a quarter mile. The state owns the rest, and the right of way is on the other side of the crests. The deed, granting the state ownership specifies that the land must be maintained forever wild. 

"They can lease the land to harvest the trees, but once it has been clear cut, the company has to abandon the land. The aspen will grow back in a few years and you hardly know it was disturbed." She turned toward the house. "C'mon, I'll give you the nickel tour, then if you want, I'm sure we can find you some swim trunks so you can sample the water."

An hour later, refreshed from his swim, Rick was back on his way, driving toward the village, and beyond it, to the city and home.

The four women sat in the living room of the house which was for sale. Looking like two sets of mirror twins, one blonde and one brunette, they were actually quadruplets. They sat around the coffee table, having their after dinner tea.

"It feels like he's the one," said the brunette named Micki. She and her sister Patti shared the common Scottish coloring of dark hair, fair skin, easy to freckle, with bright blue eyes. Micki wore her hair long, to the middle of her back, held away from her face with a pair of tortoise shell combs, just above her ears. Patti's hair was in an easy to care for pixie cut.

"He could be," agreed Bobbi, "except he's not due to appear until the end of summer." She looked at her blonde sister. "What do the cards say?"

Stevie, the other blonde, picked up a tarot deck from the center of the table. "You're sure he touched them? And nobody else since then, because the cards suggest it's him, with a 90 percent probability. I've never seen a reading that high on a first visit."

"Mmhm. Picked them up and looked at each of the cards, then put them back on the table. He even commented that we shouldn't leave them laying around because they might be valuable due to their age and beauty."

"You may be right, Micki. Not many outside of the brotherhood would recognize the significance of the patterns on the cards. Bobbi, did you say he was coming back this weekend?" asked Patti.

"Maybe. He wants to bring his fiancé to look at the cottage as a year round home. This weekend or next, we have time. The wedding is in mid to late August. That gives us at least eight weeks."

"You're home late," said Sharon, looking at him questioningly. "I was starting to get worried."

"I'm sorry. There was a bad accident on the two lane coming back from Oakdale. But it was fortuitous. I got stuck at an intersection and saw a sign I never noticed before. You ever hear of a village called Gold Lake?" Rick slid his arms around his fiance's waist and bent down to kiss and nibble the side of her neck.

"Mmm, you can keep that up. No, I don't think I've heard that name before."

"There wasn't any traffic, so I took the turn. About four miles in from the highway, I saw a for sale sign, advertising lakefront property. The lake was visible just beyond a tree line. I drove down to see what was for sale, and found a lovely two bedroom year round home.

"Only two homes on the lake, which is about a half mile across, in both directions. In the sunlight, with the reflecting leaves, the lake looks like molten gold. Fantastically beautiful." He kissed her, holding her tight. "We have an appointment to see it tomorrow afternoon, to see what you think."

"Move out of the city and fight that commute every day? Do you remember how long we looked for this place so we wouldn't have to commute?"

"Believe me, this place will be worth it."

Less than five minutes after exiting the expressway they saw the beginnings of the golden aspens which loaned the lake their color. Rick was enthralled anew. Sharon was impressed by the beautiful color spreading over the hillsides. Even driving away from the sun, the view was magnificent. Topping a rise in the road, they saw the village nestled on the floor of the valley, framed by the golden trees, with the lake just beyond it, reflecting the blue sky and scattered fluffy clouds on its golden surface.

A few minutes later they were standing by Rick's MG, greeting the four sisters. Bobbi made the introductions, then offered the couple a quick tour of the house and property which would go with it. "Then, if you like, you can have a swim and join us for dinner."

"Oh, no," objected Sharon. "That would inconvenience you too much, I'm sure."

"No inconvenience at all. When I mentioned you might be coming back this evening, my sisters insisted on planning for it. If you want to get a real feel for the place, the bed in the master bedroom is all made up so you can stay the night."

"Let's stay, sweetheart," urged Rick. "I have a real good feeling about this place."

Barb laughed. "For some reason, most men do. The second white man in the valley, Lonnie Duncan, didn't ask his wife, it's reported. He just announced this is where they're settling. Even those that followed, it was the man who wanted to stay. The women weren't as enthusiastic at first. But with the mild winters, temperate summers, early springs, and brilliant falls, they soon came to love it as well."

Sharon looked at her two companions, amusement plain on her face. "Which one of you is in advertising? I will admit, it is a beautiful place, and the house looks quite cozy. Can we see inside, now?"

"Of course. I'm sorry. I just love it here, and I have a feeling you will too, once you get to know it." Bobbie led them into the small two-storied, two bedroom cottage. The front of the house faced the lake. The front door opened into a good sized living /sitting room, furnished with an eclectic mix of furniture, including a futon/sofa which opened into a king sized bed, and two rustic padded easy chairs. There was also a coffee table, a couple of occasional tables and a hassock. 

A relatively large dining room, a comfortable, eat-in kitchen, and a bathroom with a walk-in shower comprised the remainder of the first floor. Upstairs, the master bedroom, dominated by an extra long double bed which looked like it had been built in the room it was so large, occupied half of the available space; another full bath and a slightly smaller guest room/office area finished the floor. Above that was a half story, attic storage area. The unfinished basement housed laundry facilities, gas furnace, and other mechanicals.

"You and your sisters live here year round?" Rick asked. "Are the cottages insulated?"

"Not really," Bobbi answered. "The valley has a micro climate unique to itself. I have seen winter days when the city is reporting a four to six inch snowfall, and we have sunshine and temperatures in the forties, high forties. I've lived here my entire life and I can't remember a day when it snowed or froze."

"That is amazing," said Sharon, "and it's what--ten, fifteen miles from the city?"

"As the crow flies, as they say, the center of the lake is seventeen miles from the expressway ramp at City Line Road. Now, did you bring swimsuits? If not, I'm sure we can find you something, or," she said with a sly smile, "I can assure you the swimming area cannot be seen from the road, so if you want to skinny dip, my sisters and I wouldn't care."

Rick grinned and started to say something, but was cut off by Sharon, "I'm sure that would be wonderful, but today, I think I would be more comfortable wearing something. We did bring suits. Can we change in the house?"

They were joined in their swim by Stevie and Patti while Bobbi and Mickie worked on the barbequed game hen, potatoes, and salad. Dessert was Stevie's brandied creamy fruit compote made of locally grown seasonal fruits.

Conversation over dinner, thanks to the wine, the brandied cream sauce and the natural charm of the company, ranged over the history of the lake and the valley, personal histories, wedding plans and problems with the village. "I'm sure," commented Patti, "that many of the adults in the village think we 're witches," draining her wine glass.

"Mostly spelled with a 'B,' " added Micki with a laugh.

"Goodness, look at the time," interjected Bobbi. "Sharon, are you an in-the-nude girl, or can I offer you a nightgown?"

"This time of year, although I have to cover up to swim, I'm a nudie in bed, but thank you."

"That's quite alright. You said your wedding was scheduled for the end of next month. We should warn you, the bed you'll be using tonight has a reputation as a baby maker. Over the years, it has helped a number of couples trying to have children, and produced a number of surprises among couples who thought they were all done. But, a few weeks early, only the small minded will be counting."

As she slid under the covers, Rick reached for Sharon. She kissed him and took hold of his hands, pulling them from her breasts. "Not tonight, sweetheart. It's strange, but it's like we were at my mother's house. I'd be too embarrassed to make love tonight, especially after that mumbo jumbo about this bed being a baby maker.

"But you are absolutely right about this place. It's perfect, and the women will be great neighbors." She cuddled up to him, arms around his shoulders, and became aware of his arousal. She reached down and caressed his rampant staff. "My god, Rick! I've never seen you so hard! Maybe moving out here isn't such a good idea after all." She laughed. She turned on her side, her back to him. "There, Lilith is open to you. Slip little Charlie in and take care of him. Don't worry about me; this is all for you."

Rick got on his knees, under her hips and slipped his shaft into her waiting quim. She felt him enter and was immediately aware of the apparent increase in the girth of his member. "Omigod! O! O! Damn, Rick, you've gotten huge! Don't stop! Fuck me now--Do it, Rick!" He began to thrust and withdraw, short strokes rapidly increasing to full length, only the pull on her labia affecting her clit, but his full length massaging her sensitive inner walls on each thrust and withdrawal.

Rick turned her onto her stomach, pushing her legs so she was prone on the bed, his legs astride hers in the reverse missionary position. He slipped his hands under her to clasp a breast in each, squeezing and pumping her nipples in the palm of his hand. As he continued moving in and out of her love chute, his position guaranteed maximum contact with increased pressure on her forward vaginal wall and G-spot. In a few minutes he felt her tense and climax, closing down on his cock like a vise, triggering his own release.

Even as he went soft, he felt his balls continuing to spasm, spewing his seed. The last expulsion as he withdrew from Sharon was painful. Looking down, instead of the puddle of cum he expected to see, there was a small pile of small greyish white crystalline looking cubes. He attempted to pick one up but they were so small he got a number of them. They felt like gelatin, except they were easily smeared into a damp powder-like state. "What the hell?" he uttered.

"Hmm?" came the sleepy reply. "God, honey, that was fantastic. I didn't realize how much I needed that." She turned over and saw his puzzled look. "Something wrong?"

"Don't know," he responded. "The last shot of my cum is dry, and looks like mini jell-O cubes, as if I emptied my balls. I know I seemed to come forever, but I've never seen anything like this."

"Well, it's late; there's nothing we can do about it right now, is there? Grab me a towel from the bathroom, would you please? It feels like I peed the bed. I was afraid that would happen," she laughed. "Always at the most embarrassing times."

Rick brought back a towel and helped spread it beneath her, covering the wet spot. Then he crawled in beside her. "Thank you for that," he said.

"Thank you," she returned. "I can't remember when I've come that hard that fast." When their kiss threatened to become more, she backed off, laughing. "I can see why this bed has its reputation. Your balls are empty and little Charlie still wants to play. Believe me, Lilith would be more than happy to have him visit, but we need to be up early. We still have some business to discuss with the ladies." She turned over so he could spoon in behind her and they fell into a deep sleep, beset with dreams.

Rick dreamed of walking beside a golden lake, approaching a campfire surrounded by the four sisters, dancing nude. When he reached the fire, each of the sisters in turn knelt before him, fondling his balls, swallowing his member until it reached its maximum hardness, then engulfing it with their lower lips. Each time, the hills of the small valley echoed with orgasmic screams of joy accompanied by his own roar of satisfaction. When each had taken their turn, they came to him and placed a kiss upon his chest, leaving their mark. Only then was he aware of Sharon watching.

In Sharon's dream, she watched as the nude sisters danced around a campfire until her man joined them. She saw each of them, in turn, ride her fiancé to orgasm. When each sister was done with Rick, she came to Sharon, who knelt before her and cleaned his deposit from the sister's love box. When she was done, each of the women kissed her, tasting and sharing Rick's seed. Then each woman, after sharing Rick's seed, honored Lilith until the valley rang with Sharon's screams of joy and her fluids increased the level of the lake. When they had all tasted Lilith, they came to Sharon and, as with Rick, marked her breasts with their kisses.

Rick and Sharon were awakened by the slamming of the screen door, followed by the sound of Patti running up the stairs, shouting, "Hey, sleepyheads, time to wake up and start your day!" She barged into the bedroom without knocking, giving Rick barely enough time to pull the sheet up to his waist, hiding his morning wood. Even sitting up, it made a considerable tent, a fact not unnoticed by either of the women. Patti smiled, nodding towards Rick's chest and groin. "Wow! I see you two gave the bed a good workout last night. Hope it was everything you wanted."


Ladies of the Lake Ch. 01



Rick looked down at his chest and abdomen, at the marks he was sure weren't there when Sharon had rolled over to sleep last night. He looked at her, puzzled. She sat up to get a closer look, letting the sheet fall to her waist, exposing her breasts to the gaze of her fiancé and the other woman. Rick, seeing her gasped. She had matching marks, two on the upper surface of each breast .

Before either of them could speak, Patti interrupted their befuddlement. "I hate to rush you guys, especially with that lovely tease you're sporting, Rick, but the realtor called a little bit ago. There will be a family here to look at the house in about a half hour. Unless you don't mind getting caught in the buff, you should hurry."

Ignoring her presence, the couple hurriedly dressed. Patti stripped the bed, as they dressed, grinning at the large wet stain in the middle of the bed. "Bobbi warned you about the bed's reputation, didn't she? When's your wedding- -next month? That 's good." She bundled the bedding and, as she left the room, turned in the doorway to say "It'll be nice, having a young couple next to us for a change. When we rented the house, we always seemed to get retirees or close to it. I'm glad you like the house and it likes you." Before they could respond, she was gone.

"Honestly, Rick, Sharon, we haven't set a price." They were sitting in the girls' living room, talking with Bobbi and Micki. "Base your offer on what that house, on a city lot, would be worth. If any of us think it's fair, then, frankly, we will gossip about you and our reactions to you this weekend. We're not just selling a house, we're choosing neighbors. If we all want you next door, we can give a little on the price. If none of us do, you couldn't buy the house with the queen's jewels."

"Would you accept a verbal offer, right now?" Rick asked, seeing an older couple get out of a car which had pulled up as Bobbi was talking.

Micki interjected "Are you ready to make an offer without talking to Sharon? After all, she also has to agree she wants to live here. After experiencing the power of your bed last night, she might have some reservations. Twins, even triplets, after mating in the baby maker are not uncommon. My sisters and I are products of that bed. I really think the two of you should discuss it together."

Bobbi reached out and took their hands. "Don't worry, we're not in a hurry to sell. We're not going any where."

"Why are you selling?" Rick asked. "Patti said you've rented it out in the past."

"Mmhm. We've rented it both as year round living, and by the week in season. None of us want to be bothered managing that anymore. And the house and property maintenance. I'm sure it's no different than in the city. It just takes time we don't want to give up." 

Rick looked at his fiancé. She gave him a slight nod. He whispered in her ear. She smiled. "Can I?" 

He nodded.

"$66,666.66," she gushed.

The sisters looked puzzled, and shaking their heads, said, in unison "What?"

Sharon repeated, "Sixty-six thousand, six hundred sixty-six dollars, and sixty-six cents."

Micki howled with delighted amusement. She stood up, and grasping Sharon's head, pulled her into a full tongue wrestling kiss. "Mmm," she said, breaking the kiss, "you taste good, better than...well, just better. I have to go tell Stevie and Patti about this." Sharon sat there, wordless, mouth agape, reminded of her dream, watching Micki leave the small house.

Bobbi was laughing. "You're sure," she asked. " That's your offer? Let me get something to write it down with." She was back in a minute with a pad of generic offer forms. "These," she explained, "are just general forms, with blanks to add specifics. Let me get your full name, Rick, and address. I've written your amount and I'll let my sisters know about it, although I'm sure Micki is doing so right now. I'll fill in the property specifics and mail it to you. When we get back the signed form, we'll let you know our decision." She stood up. "But, I think we're going to get to know each other really well." 

Six weeks later, in mid-August, they were at their post rehearsal dinner. For some reason, they had not yet heard about the house. It had taken Bobbi three weeks to get the contract/offer to them for signing. Rick had taken it to his lawyer for review and received that dignitary's stamp of approval the very next day. They had signed and returned the forms within three days of receiving them. That had been followed by several days of frustrating phone tag, with no satisfactory conclusion. Based on Bobbi's parting statement, the couple weren't worried, just anxious.

At the dinner, the main course had been served and eaten. The party was waiting for dessert, and suffering through a round of semi-humorous risque toasts, some nearly bordering on speeches. Sharon's stepfather, Ben, was at the microphone, making his toast to the couple. He had just finished saying he wished his son, Josh, Sharon's stepbrother, had lived to see this day come. From the entrance to the party room came the words, "I did, Dad."

Sharon screamed and ran to the speaker, jumping into his arms, her legs locked around his hips, their kiss revealing the passionate feelings they obviously shared. As the display went on, the guests began to fidget and become embarrassed. After five minutes with no abatement in sight, Rick got up and left. When Ben attempted to stop him, he just pushed him aside.

While Rick waited for a break in traffic, to exit the parking lot, he saw an elderly woman resembling Bobbi approaching his MG. She looked to be in her mid to late sixties. She surprised him by jumping over the door of the open roadster. Without preamble, she reached for his genitals and directed him to drive to the Central City Park. Traffic cleared in both directions, allowing him to pull onto the road. Behind him, he could hear Sharon calling his name.

At the park, the crone directed him to turn onto a road he had never seen before. It led into the center of the park, to a horse drawn wagon by a campfire. On both sides of the park he could see the traffic on the parkways. He exited the roadster and assisted the older woman from the car. They were approached by another old woman who had appeared out of the cart. 

Without a word, she, too, reached to touch his genitals. He was instantly hard. The two women knelt before him, extricating his prick from his clothes. Still silent, they began a game of tag fellatio, taking turns working his organ over with their lips and tongues until he ejaculated, catching his spend in a kidskin container. Four times he was brought to climax. After each, one or the other of the crones would take his testicles, one at a time, in her mouth and caress them with her tongue until he thought his sac would erupt. Then the tag team game would begin anew.

After his fourth and final spend, Rick's prick was returned to his pants, and he was led back to his MG, and placed in the passenger seat. The next awareness he had was someone ringing the doorbell of the apartment he had shared with Sharon. He stumbled to the door and hit the button on the intercom.

"Rick, it's Sharon. Can we come in?"

"We?"

"Josh, my stepbrother is with me. Please, Rick. I need to explain."

Rick shook his head. Partly, amazement at the couple's balls, partly, to clear it of the left over sleep and partly, from the grogginess left by his experiences in the park. He had no recollection of how he got home. He rang the buzzer, opening the door to the couple waiting outside. He unlocked the apartment door and turned to return to the bedroom to put on some clothes.

He saw an envelope on the coffee table. No stamp, the return address was simply 'Gold Lake Cottages." Inside was the deed he had been waiting for, made out to him, although both he and Sharon had signed all the paperwork jointly. An accompanying note urged him to move in as soon as possible. The cottage was his, furnished as it was on his overnight visit. He laughed at the irony, then thought, "Why not?"

He had just finished zipping his pants when he heard Sharon calling him. When he stepped into the living room, he saw her reading the deed and note. She looked up and saw him. She crossed the room to him, to give him a hug. When he did not return it, she stepped back, looking at him, a hurt expression in her eyes.

"I am so sorry, Rick. Josh's return...We hadn't heard from him for over five years. When he was sent on assignment six years ago, we were engaged to be married as soon as he returned. We only expected him to be gone two or three months."

"Your step brother? Engaged? Isn't that..."

"Incest? No." Josh answered. "Our parents met and married when we were both sixteen. I'm five months older than Sharon, so we were in the same grade in high school. In many of the same classes, and activities. We had known each other at school before the families joined." 

Sharon picked up the explanation. "We didn't hang out or belong to the same cliques, but we knew who each other were, and were friendly when we met . When Mom and Ben married, we, obviously, spent a lot of time together and found out we shared a lot of interests. While we didn't date date, we often found ourselves doubling, and enjoying each other's company. The summer we graduated, Mom and Ben took an anniversary trip, leaving us alone. We discovered we loved each other and..."

"I get the picture," Rick interrupted. "Where have you been for...how long, five, six years?" he asked, looking at Josh.

"I don't know. The last clear memory I have before last month is a torrential rainstorm and a landslide wiping out the village in Chile where I was working for the Peace Corps. Then a month ago, I woke up in a Venezuelan hospital. The doctors said some natives from a tribe they weren't familiar with had carried me in on a litter some days before. No explanation, no history. 

"I had parasitic infections affecting my pancreas, one of my kidneys, and my intestine, and a massive fungal infection affecting my left leg. That was the end of May. The doctor in charge of my care said he couldn't understand how I was still alive, but here I am. In spite of what you thought you saw last night, Sharon and I...I don't know where we are."

"Yeah? It looked pretty plain last night. It looked like if you had been alone, it would have been your eighteenth summer all over."

"Rick!" Sharon yelled at him. "That's not fair! He's my step brother, back from the dead practically. What was I supposed to do, just shake hands?"

"I don't know, but something less than a five minute lip and leg lock, with his hands all over your ass." His tone varied between hurt and anger.

"Look, you two obviously have some talking to do, he continued. "I'll be moving to the lake. All I'll be taking from here is the bedroom TV, the stereo, my library and clothes. I'll call a mover to come pack and cart the stuff before mid-week. The lease is paid until the end of the year." He saw Josh's eyebrows go up. "You get a lower monthly rate plus there's no security deposit, and this management gives two month's free," he explained. 'So, you can stay here until you decide what to do."

"Thank you, Rick. What are you going to do?" Sharon asked, softly.

"Do? I don't know. As of yesterday, I'm on vacation for a month. You bought the cruise tickets. You should call and cancel them today, unless you want to use them. I think, for right now, I'll go get to know my new neighbors." Both of his visitors blanched when he mentioned the sisters. "You two okay?"

Josh answered first. "Yeah, just a touch of whatever is left over from the jungle, I guess."

Sharon added, "Yeah, just tired. We were up late talking and celebrating Josh's return." She went to Rick and attempted another hug. When he made no effort to return it, she looked at him. "Not even a friendly hug, Rick? In spite of what you think you saw, I still love you. Nothing can or will change that, except you. I'm sorry you were hurt."

"I still love you, too. That's what hurts. I heard what you said. And what you didn't say, and saw what I saw. We both need time to think. If you need to talk, I'll be at the lake. And I'll find you here or at your Mom's?" She nodded, tears in her eyes.

She embraced him again, whispering into his chest, so softly he barely heard her. "Don't hate me, Rick, please. Don't hate me."

At that, his arms came up to hold her. He pressed his lips into her hair, then said, "I couldn't do that; I'd never hate you, sweets." Then he pushed her away. "I'll be gone by Wednesday. You can have the apartment then. Let me know if you're not going to use it. I can arrange to sub-let it. You still have your key?" The couple nodded, and, with a few tears, left.



Ladies of the Lake Ch. 02



Advisory: this chapter does not contain incest; I categorized it as such just to keep the story together. If you haven't read part one, some of this won't make much sense. I urge you to read pt. 1 first, then enjoy this. jb7

*

It was just past 10 AM when the couple left. By noon Rick had breakfasted, and arranged for someone to box up his possessions and cart them to the lake house. He had packed his clothes and the few valuables and knick knacks he wanted, then packed the cases in the MG and was on his way. 

As he pulled into the driveway, he was again impressed by the sheer beauty of the scene before him, terming it in his mind "magical." There was a palpable sense of peace and well being about the place. Pulling into the parking area behind 'his' house, he saw the sisters emerge from their cottage. He waved and started to unfasten the straps on the luggage carrier. Each of the women grabbed a box or suitcase to carry in. Rick lifted the last two from the boot and followed them into his new home. 

When he got into the house, he found Patti and Micki were already upstairs, unpacking his clothes, Bobbi and Stevie were putting the knickknacks he'd brought with him around the house, giving it a sense of himself. It already was feeling like home. Bobbi looked at the two boxes he was carrying and raised her eyebrows, questioning him about their contents.

"My word processor and some LPs I brought that Sharon won't want. She won't be joining me here in the foreseeable future."

"I'm, we're all sorry, Rick. Is there anything we can do for you? Would you like one of us to go shopping for you, with you? Why don't you plan on joining us for dinner tonight? Then we can tell you our stories, the how's and why's we're all here, and you can tell us yours. Okay?"

"That's fine, and I guess I could use some help shopping this afternoon. It's been years since I've set up from scratch alone."

"I'll come with you. The others say I'm a disaster waiting to happen in the kitchen when it comes to anything other than making a salad or cleaning up."

A few hours later, he was mopping up some home made Bolognese sauce with fresh baked Italian bread, washing it down with one of the best Chianti wines he had tasted in years. "Wow! I haven't eaten that much of that good in forever. Which of you do I thank for such a delicious meal? I know it wasn't Bobbi. She was with me all afternoon."

Stevie grinned with pleasure as she answered, "I did the pasta and sauce; Patti made the bread and chose the wine, while Micki picked the lettuce and veggies for the salad."

"You all could open a restaurant in the city and be a four star the day after you open."

"Sounds inviting, but we'd rather just do for us and our friends." She paused to take a sip of wine. "Would it be too much to ask what happened with Sharon?"

Rick's shoulders slumped and he sank back in his chair. "No. I just don't have a good answer. This is supposed to be my wedding night." He gave a short, bitter laugh. " We had the wedding rehearsal last night and had finished dinner. Sharon's step father had just started to give a toast to the occasion when his son, her stepbrother, appeared. He'd been missing in South America for nearly six years, given up as dead, lost in a mudslide along with half the village he was working in. He and Sharon were engaged when he disappeared. Her greeting left no doubt the feelings were still there. 

"And then, as I was leaving, strangest damn thing...an older woman, looked like she could have been your mom, jumped in my car. Then I don't remember anything until Sharon was ringing the doorbell this morning."

Bobbi looked at her sisters. Each gave a barely perceptible nod. "Rick, how badly disconcerted will it make you to learn that the woman who jumped into your car last night at Giorgio's Steakhouse was, in fact, me; that it was me who directed you to the park where you were milked of your seed, and then drove you home, and left the deed on your coffee table?"

Rick sat, dumfounded, as he recognized the details he only now remembered. "H... How... Howdidyou...?" he stammered.

Stevie handed him a glass filled with Jack's Tennessee and a splash of water. "Here," she said. "Drink up; you'll need it."

Bobbi continued, "Would you care to hazard a guess about our age?"

"You're going to try to convince me you four are over seventy?"

"Thank you, but we are actually over twice that. Our father was murdered in 1865, two months after our eighteenth birthday."

Rick tried to quickly do the math. Patti helped him, "163."

He sat there, unbelieving. "You're shittin' me! There's no friggin' way..."

"I know it's hard to believe," piped in Micki. "Would you believe us if one of us showed you?"

"Micki..."

"It's okay, Bobbi. I just will miss out on the ceremony tonight, and need to tap into my reserve, but I'm sure we'll be able to replace it. I'll just have to be first tomorrow night so I can possibly get a double dip."

"If you're sure. Well, Rick? Micki is offering you a once in a lifetime opportunity. Would you like to see how we look without the enchantment of the lake? Do you want to see a hundred sixty-three year old woman?"

He sat there, mouth agape, shaking his head no. "Ho...How? Who are you? What enchantment? H...H...How?" He saw the whiskey in his hand and drank the whole glass. "How have you lived so long, stayed so young looking?"

"It is, as they say, a long story. I'll keep it as short as I can and still make sense.

"Without putting too fine a point on it, our father, Judah Cartoffel, was a warlock, a male witch. Quite a powerful one, it turns out. In the Spring of 1845 he was traveling throughout the Western Plains, east of the mountains, trading with Indians. He would use his ability to convince the natives his goods were worth more than they actually were. In a Shoshone village, he noticed a white woman, dressed as a native.

The young Indian watched with satisfaction as the old trader stirred the red and yellow ochre powders into containers of rendered buffalo fat, creating face paint for ceremonial occasions, or for battle. When the trader was done, the brave pointed to some brightly colored beads he had decided his woman needed. The trader placed them next to the face paint and looked up at the brave. 

Behind him, passing through the camp he saw a slender woman with hair the color of a ripe wheat field. When she glanced his way he saw she would have been pretty except for her broken nose. He looked back at the brave and muttered something under his breath. The brave said, "Enough for five skins?"

"Six," replied the trader.

"Five," returned the brave.

"Five," agreed the trader, "plus some information."

"What?" 

"Who is the woman with the yellow hair?"

"You need to ask Chief Running Bear. She belongs to him. Lives with old warrior, Black Elk."

"Appreciate the information. May the mother of all bless you with sons."

When the young brave left, the old trader packed up his goods and made his way to the fire of Running Bear. After the greeting ceremonies had been completed, Running Bear asked why the trader had come to see him. "I want to know about the young woman with yellow hair."

"My burden? I should have left her on the prairie where I found her," the Indian chief replied. "I was leading a hunting party three, four suns to the south. That was the last year the river over ran its banks, ten winters, no, twelve winters past. We came on a wagon train which had been attacked and burned. She was the only survivor, four, maybe five winters in age. I brought her back to our camp. She has been a major source of problems since. 

"She needed beating often by the women of the village until she learned to understand our ways, and enough of our language to get along. When the children saw her being beaten, they would join in, and then they started the beatings when there was no one to stop them. That went on until she learned to fight back.

"I know she can understand and speak our tongue, but when young men approach her, she jabbers back in some other talk. One fearless brave asked for her to be one of his wives. I thought it a good match. When he tried to take her to his blanket, she fought him, made him look small. It took four of his friends to hold her down for the deflowering, and she still resisted. He was angry and hit her, broke her nose. The next day, he returned her, looking worse than her.

"After that no one else would want her, so I gave her to Black Elk to cook and keep his camp. He is too old to make any other demands on her. Why do you ask?"

"My fire needs tending, my blanket gets lonely. Sometimes I long to hear the talk of my people."

"All good reasons, but what of Black Elk? He has grown accustomed to the comfort of a woman in his tipi."

"I have an extra pony; he could trade for another woman."

"Pony and two blankets."

"Pony and buffalo skin, the woman could make a robe for him."

"Done. First, you must prove you can tame her. If you can mate her, you can make trade."

"I'll take her tonight." The Indian nodded, a skeptical look on his usually stoic face.

The young woman saw the trader walking toward Black Elk's fire. She was stirring the pot sitting over the flames, stirring the ragout which would be his evening meal. Seeing the white man, for some reason, made her uneasy. When he stopped across the fire from her, she grabbed a piece of firewood and stood up, ready to fight. He spoke first. "Howdy. Do you remember any of your people's talk?" 

She nodded. "IpracticeevrydaysosIdontfergit," she offered, the tone flat, the words slurred together.

"Good. For not bein' with your people so long, you don' soun' too bad. I seen you earlier, and spoke with Running Bear. I want to take you with me. I offered him a trade for you. He took the trade, but first I have to prove I can tame you. He said when one of the men of the village tried to make you his wife, it took five of them and a beating before you gave in."

"I din't givin. He beat me...so I dint know wha happend. I heard him promise his friends they could use me. I din't see that happening with the other women, 'n' I din't want it to happen to me."

The old trader chuckled "Slow down, girl. Tell me the name your ma give to you.. She muttered something. "Piggy? No ma would call a baby that. You mean Peggy?" She nodded, smiling. 

While she talked and got used to listening to the cadence of his speech and copying it, her ability to speak his language gradually returned

She cocked her head to the side, looking at him, judging him. "How will you show Running Bear you've tamed me?"

"You'll share my blanket tonight, and we'll need to mate so he can see. I promise you, it won't hurt; you may even like it. Will you come with me?" 

"When would you be leavin'?" she asked. 

"I got 'nother day o' trading, and a day to pack. Daylight, the next day." She dropped the firewood and turned to enter the tipi. When she returned, she was carrying a small hide bag. 

"I'm ready," she said. "Do you have meat for supper, or should I take some from Black Elk?"

"I got a rabbit stewing at my fire. I reckon I'll need to trade for some provision for our trip."

Upon reaching the trader's fire, she put her bag in the tipi, then sniffed the stew. When she asked if he had anything to flavor it, he pulled a thong of rawhide from one of his packs. The thong had several small bags tied to it, each containing dried plants which could be used to add flavor to the stew. She opened each of the small bags and sniffed or tasted each, her smile growing wider with each of the bags. 

While she tended the stew, the trader put on a pot of water, then pulled two metal cups from one of his packs and threw some dried leaves he found, tied to another thong among his provisions, into the cups. When the water was hot, he poured some in the cups and offered one to Peggy. She sniffed, dubiously, and made a face. She started to take a sip, but was stopped by the old man. "'S too hot, wait a bit."

When they were done with the stew, he motioned for her to try the brew. She made a face at the first sip. He pulled another bag from his pack and sprinkled some granules into her cup, muttering under his breath, and motioned for her to try again. This sip caused her to smile and drain the cup.

"When did you want to tame me," she asked him.

He looked at her, at the smile on her face. In spite of the broken nose, she was pretty as a picture he thought. "You clean up our dishes, I'll get our bed ready. Then I know a place in the river where we can clean oursel's. We'll both like it better after a bath."

Without a word, she threw some dirt on the fire, and using a square of hide as a hot pad, grabbed the pot with the little bit of stew and carried it to an area reserved for feeding the camp dogs. When she returned, using a combination of sand and water she cleaned the pot and their plates. Looking around she saw an open bag with similar utensils and stowed them away. 

She was about to enter the tipi the trader used when he came out carrying some large torn up blanket pieces and a hide container with a whitish cream. He took her hand and led her to the spot he had mentioned. 

He set the blanket pieces and container on the ground next to the river. Pulling off his buckskin shirt, he motioned to the young woman she should do the same. Growing up in the Indian camp, privacy was not something highly valued. Body modesty, even less so. She pulled the ties holding her hide garment together and slipped it off her shoulders. The trader caught his breath at the site of her nudeness. 

Still clearly Caucasian, her skin was the color of a walnut hull, with dark brown areolas setting off her medium sized breasts. She was taller than most of the women in the village, slender as a reed with hips that promised a comfortable bed during coupling. The bush sitting atop her thighs was dark, attesting to the effect of the sun on her hair. As he watched, the breeze cooled her breasts, causing her nipples to stand out. The sight of her standing there in the woods had its predictable effect.

He let go the shirt he was holding, as well as his breath. "My Gawd, girl. You are just about the prettiest thing I ever seed." He loosened and dropped his britches, and taking her hand, led her into the river. 

He grabbed the container of soap, and taking a handful, started washing himself. He handed the container to her. She sniffed it, and smiled as it brought back memories of her mother. She copied the trader and smoothed the creamy goo over her body, wincing as she rubbed it between her legs. "Oops, sorry. I shoulda warned you 'bout that. Squat in the water and rub the soap away. It'll stop right off."

She did, laughing, thinking how the women in the camp would react, wanting to see it happen to them. The trader looked at her, puzzled, and asked what she was laughing at. When she explained, he grinned, saying, "You got you a mean streak, huh?" She just smiled at him.

When they were rinsed, they climbed out of the water and dried themselves with the blanket pieces and dressed. On the way back to his fire, Peggy slipped her hand back into the trader's and pulled on it. When he looked at her, she asked "Name?"

He looked surprised, then grinned. "Judah. Judah Cartoffel."

"Yudah Cartafel?"

He corrected her, and she practiced it all the way to the camp. Meanwhile, Judah, the old trader was doing his best to hide the tent in his 'skins. He knew he would have a hard time 'taming' this woman. His impulse was to follow the course the brave before him had. But if he wanted her to come with him, he would have to be gentle, at least the first time.

Running Bear saw the pair enter the tipi. He told his first wife he had to go witness the coupling of the white man and woman. She told him to wait, it would be a while before he was needed. The white girl had been taken by force her first time, it would take a slow, gentle approach to tame her.

In his tipi, the old trader knelt behind the girl, also on her knees, running his hands lightly over her back, gently caressing her skin. Feeling her relax, he bent forward and started gently kissing the side of her neck. She jerked away, then settled back, letting him continue. She responded with a small mewl. His hands slid around to continue their caresses on her abdomen, approaching, but not yet touching her breasts and bush. The mewls turned to soft moans. The kisses moved up to her ear, then slid down along her jaw to her chin, and then to her mouth. She pulled her head back, her eyes troubled, brow furrowed.

"Din't you ever see yer ma and pa kiss?"

Her troubled eyes closed while she tried to dredge up a memory of her ma and pa together. When they opened, they were still troubled. "It's one of the ways a man shows a woman he likes her a lot, and wants to mate with her. Jest relax, let me show you how." And he leaned in again, pressing his lips to hers, brushing them with his tongue. Instinctively, she reacted, opening her lips slightly. When he tried to push his tongue into her mouth, she jerked back again, shaking her head. Judah nodded and leaned forward, catching her lips again. This time, he just caressed hers with his tongue, then turned her so he could lay a line of kisses and little nips down her neck and chest, to capture her nipple with his lips. 

She caught her breath and emitted a soft "oh" as he worked the tips of her breast in and out of his lips, stimulating them to erection, increasing their sensitivity. After several seconds of such caresses, he stopped and looked into her eyes, now wide liquid pools. When he kissed her again, her mouth opened and welcomed his tongue, her arms finding their way around him. 

Judah fell back, pulling her down to the blanket beside him, his hands finding their way around her body, lightly petting and caressing her back, arms, ass cheeks, thighs. When they found their way to their goal, they found it damp, and open. Judah moved back to her breasts, kissing and caressing them in turn until her moans were accompanied by hip thrusts into the hand exploring her there.

The old trader grinned. He knew he had her at that point. He also knew his next action would tie her to him forever. He pushed her thighs open and positioned himself on his stomach between her legs. He lowered his head to the moist nest in front of him, sliding his mouth and tongue from her baby chute to her pleasure nubbin. Her scream was heard throughout the camp. 

The men were alarmed, until the women reassured them. Morning Dew, Running Bear's first wife, told him, "Don't worry. Broken Nose is learning the pleasure of womanhood. Now we can go wait at the trader's tipi. It will be done soon."

By the time they got to the trader's fire, sounds of mating could be heard inside the tipi. The young woman was uttering words they could not understand, but from the tone of her voice, Morning Dew was sure she was encouraging the man to greater efforts, to continue and to keep on doing what he was doing. In a few minutes, they heard her scream again and the trader give out a mighty groan. Morning Dew nodded to her husband, who called to the trader, "Friend, have you successfully tamed the woman? I am coming in to see."

"Come ahead, see for yourself, my friend."

The Indian couple entered the tipi. It took a few seconds for their eyes to adjust to the reduced light. When they could see, they saw the trader lying on top of, now, his woman, his member still erect, still buried in her. Morning Dew knelt beside the couple. "So many screams, Broken Nose," she said, smiling, using the name the children called the young woman. "Screams of pleasure?" The young woman just smiled and tightened her arms and legs around the trader. "Come," said the Indian woman to her husband. "We are not needed nor wanted here."




Ladies of the Lake Ch. 02



Daylight the third day found the white couple well on their way. Although the trader was on friendly terms with the Indians, he knew them well enough not to fully trust them. While the chief may have agreed to the trade, some of the younger braves could very well try to recapture the woman and take his trade goods as a sign of their manhood. 

He had left his oldest horse in trade, packed his goods on his strongest animal, and they rode double on the remaining horse. He broke out some jerky for their noon meal as they rode. With a little more than two hours of daylight left, they came to a shallow creek. They turned into it and followed it downstream for an hour or so, then turned so they were on the far side from the Indian camp. 

About two hundred yards from the creek they stopped in a small clearing. Using his knife, the trader explored the ground, looking for soft or sandy soil. When he found a large spot, he started digging. Looking at Peggy, he explained, "Have to hide the furs. We'll be able to travel faster. I can come get them later, when we're settled." 

She went to the pack animal and found the pack with the metal plates she had stowed last night and pulled one out. She fell to her knees next to Judah and started scooping out the soil he loosened. In a short while they had a hole deep enough to accommodate the furs. Once they were hidden and Judah had marked the spot, they got back on the horses and made a circle to rejoin the stream a quarter mile down stream. He was glad to see the current was running a bit faster; it would hide any trace of their being in the stream. 

Soon it was getting too dark to travel safely. They found a spot where the bank was accessible and made their way out of the creek and located a place to make a cold camp. Cuddling under the blanket, Judah pulled her close for warmth. He felt her hand loosening his belt, finding him and stimulating his member. Then he felt her wetness swallow his hardness. "You can't scream out here like you did last night. I'm not yet sure we're safe."

She nodded, thrusting her hips at him. In a few minutes, he felt her tense up, then close her teeth on his shoulder. He heard a high pitched squeal and felt the pressure of her walls on his shaft, triggering his own blast of seed. "Maybe we shouldn't do this again until we get where we're going," she said, a bit breathlessly.

The old trader laughed. "Not likely, girl. Not likely atall," pushing her onto her back, under him.

For the next two nights, they maintained a cold camp, subsisting on jerky and water. On the fourth day, they left the creek, now a river, and started crossing the first range of the mountains. He shot an antelope, and that night they had a hot meal of roast antelope, some root vegetables Peggy found, and hot coffee. That night, too, he made Peggy scream out loud, several times.

Across the low range, they found another river to follow. Judah was familiar with this country. He maintained a permanent camp in a nearby valley the natives were unlikely to enter, believing it to be a valley of the spirits. A week's travel, a week of the mountains returning Peggy's screams of joy, brought them to the valley with the lake of gold.



Ladies of the Lake Ch. 03



This follows directly the last scene of Part 2. if you haven't read the first two parts, this won't mean much to you. there are some (I hope) good sex scenes, but if that is what you want, other writers are better. In this chapter, Rick hears the end of the Aunt's tale, and discovers his relationship and purpose, when he is asked to do the unmentionable. enjoy. jb7

*

They settled there, camping out that year. The lake did its magic, and while it was cool some nights, there was no snow, although both the north and south ends of the valley were snow blocked. Game was plentiful, as were edible roots and fruits. By the next summer, Peggy was with child. Judah had built a cabin, and set out claim markers all along the peaks lining their small paradise. That fall, a military garrison was established where the trail exited the southern end of their valley, on the bank of the river curling around the peaks creating the valley's western wall.

Judah filed his claim with the commander of the troops, as the only government representative in the area. He pointed out his cabin, as evidence he had improved the land, and contracted to sell harvested aspen logs to the Army to build a garrison. The commander accepted and recorded Judah's claim as legitimate. 

Travelers found their way to the valley. They were not happy to learn Judah had claim to the whole valley, nor that the claim had been approved by the Army. They also did not like that Judah had built on the only suitable ground by the lake. He had taken the only site not invaded by the aspen. 

As long as the root structure of the trees was not disturbed, the trees, cut to the ground, would have saplings two feet tall within three years. If the roots were dug out, a lengthy process, it would take five years for the trees to reappear, but reappear they would. No one could explain why Judah's lot stayed clear.

Judah made a deal with the settlers, and set up a system of long term land leases, initially based on the earning power of the lessee, and laying out the boundaries of the village, thereby limiting the growth of the village. He also hired some of the men to build and operate a lumber mill, to supply lumber to the village, the fort, and the community which sprang up around it. 

Peggy grew large early, and Judah was worried. He took her to the doctor at the fort, who confirmed there was more than one baby, maybe three. The old trader was ecstatic, three sons, all at once. He knew immediately he wanted Patrick and Robert as names for his sons, but could not decide between Steven and Michael. When he asked Peggy, she just laughed, and asked, "What if they're all girls?" Judah wouldn't even consider the possibility.

When the girls were born, Stevie, the youngest, was a surprise. Judah was, simply put, as happy as if they had been sons. Four daughters to spoil, four little princesses. 

The birth took a lot out of Peggy. Judah hired a woman from the village as a wet nurse to help Peggy feed them. When she had recovered her strength, and the babies had been weaned, the woman stayed on to help with the house work. 

With the demands for building supplies from the fort and surrounding territory, the Village was thriving. A carting company, for both short and long haul freighting, was started by a newcomer, Caleb Younger. He was a tall, comely, well built lad, who had no problem attracting the fair sex. The problem was, he became obsessed with Peggy after seeing her shopping in the village one day when the girls were about seven. He knew who she was, who her husband was, but wanted her for himself. 

All the attraction and obsession was on his side. Peggy was as much in love with Judah as she was on the day they left the Indian village. If she spoke to Caleb, it was to tell him as much, and to ask him to leave her alone. But the poor man was besotted with her. Asking him to leave her be was as much as asking him to stop breathing.

One Saturday, Judah and Peggy were in the village shopping, for the girls' eighth birthday, and had separated for some individual errands. Caleb was driving his wagon through the main street when he saw Peggy. He stopped and jumped down in front of her. Grasping her by the shoulders, he implored her to go away from Judah, with him. At that moment, Judah returned, and seeing what was occurring, seized Caleb's whip from his wagon and laid it across the teamster's back, eliciting a horrible scream of pain.

"You steal my money with your outrageous freight charges, now you try to steal my wife!" Three more times the whip found Caleb's back before passers-by stopped Judah. "Get out of this valley," he ordered Caleb. "The next time I see you on my land, I'll shoot you like a rabid dog." That night, in the new bed Judah had built in their bedroom, Peggy was got with child again, against the advice of doctors and midwives.

Good advice, as it turned out. As the baby grew, Peggy lost strength. At four months into the pregnancy, she was confined to bed. Still she declined. About half way through the sixth month, the baby made it plain it wanted to be born. Neither he nor his mother survived.

Judah was devastated. He blamed himself, and could not bear it. He was gone from the valley even more frequently than he had been before, and for longer periods, sometimes as much as six months. 

Peggy had been a good mother. She made certain the girls could read, and were schooled in their figures, able to add and subtract. She had encouraged Judah to bring them back books from his travels so they were aware of the outside world. She had women in from the village to teach them how to clean, to do laundry. She also encouraged them to exercise and to play, and taught them to ride. 

When the girls started to look like young women, Judah noticed. He gathered them together on their fourteenth birthday. "You are becoming young women, and soon the men in the valley will be dogging you, wanting to join with you. As long as you are by the lake, no harm will come to you. If you must leave the lake, leave only in pairs. As long as there are two of you together, you will be safe from all harm. Always wait for me here, until I return."

"What if you don't return, Papa?"

"I"ll always return, lass. I may get sick, or hurt, but the only way this old earth will get shut of me is for someone in this valley to kill me, and that is unlikely to happen. If it does, then wait for the man to come who will love you like I do."

When they were seventeen, Bobbi and Stevie were in town together, shopping in the general store. Not paying attention to where the other was, they got separated. A group of four or five roughs saw Stevie and decided to have some fun, and maybe something more. Surrounding her, they hustled her from the store into a nearby alley. 

Bobbi felt her panic and went looking for her. As soon as Stevie saw her at the open end of the alley, her sense of control returned. She and Bobbi focused their thoughts on the roughs, who were soon on their knees, retching their breakfasts, soiling and wetting themselves. 

When the girls got back to the street, Bobbi turned and looked at the wretched creatures kneeling on the ground. She muttered something under her breath and thought of a twisting sac. With satisfaction, she saw the men double in pain and heard their hurting howls.

The girls, more intelligent than most of their age peers, were curious about their changing bodies and the urges they were feeling. They had observed animals mating and wondered about how that was done between man and woman. They discussed the process with their old wet nurse, who brought out a new born grandson to point out the differences between the sexes.

Their eighteenth birthday was approaching. Judah had written that he would be home and had a surprise for them. Patti was planning a surprise for him. She gathered her sisters and proposed that they get Papa drunk and the four of them take him to bed and satisfy their curiosity about men. The plan was met with cheers.

Judah appeared the day before their birthday, with four geldings. Two matched pairs, black and palomino, the same coloring as the girls. That night, they lingered over dinner, serving their father several glasses of wine. By midnight, he was quite far gone, and could not object when his girls took him to his bed and began to strip him. 

Drunk as he was, when his four daughters appeared before him in their nude glory, he was erect in a second. When they approached him, he could not resist, due to both inebriation, and desire. He laid back on the bed he had built in the room and felt the girls hands exploring him, heard their delighted laughs and giggles, felt their breasts pressing against him, their gashes against his legs. 

Then, he felt a hot dampness at the head of his male member, enclosing it, sliding down his staff, then an impediment, a lessening of pressure and a sudden increase and release. There was a yelp of pain, then stillness as the warmth engulfed his entire rod. In a minute there was a familiar sensation of movement up and down on him, which he attempted to facilitate. Soon he felt the movements become erratic, then, clamping on the head of his prick. Someone, it sounded like Patti was screaming and laughing all at the same time. 

Then she was gone and there was another pussy attacking him. Before the sun came up, that morning of their eighteenth birthday, each of the four girls had sampled their father, who, surprisingly, did not experience a climax. A father and a gentleman, Judah did not punish the girls for his rape. In fact, he encouraged them to repeat it, with the variations that he be sober, and they do it one sister at a time. Over the next month, he enjoyed each daughter several times, and although he experienced a climax with them each time, he did not ejaculate. 

This puzzled the girls. If he did not produce the man seed, how could he get his wife with child? He explained that he was a warlock, the male version of a witch, with certain powers, one being the ability to control his output of sperm. When he asked if any of the girls had noticed they had the power to influence people to do what they didn't want to do, or to influence events to their benefit, they all looked at each other and nodded. 

He told them of his family, their escape from Salem, and the need to migrate west as the eastern colonies were settled, finally joining a tribe of Indians sympathetic to the colonists. During the second war with Britain, he told them, some British soldiers had shot both parents at point blank range just because they were Americans. He marked them, and had his revenge, then moved to the mountains and plains, living and trading with natives.

Several weeks after the girls' birthday, Judah was visiting the commandant at the fort when he saw a figure he thought he recognized. He asked a nearby trooper who the man was. The trooper identified him as the carter, Caleb Younger. Judah nearly lost his temper. As he slowly let his breath out, he rationalized that Younger had the right to be in the fort; it was outside the valley, outside his property. As he turned and walked away, Caleb saw him. Caleb's back burned in remembrance of the beating. He wondered, too, about Peggy. How was she?

Although his freight depot was next to the fort, his partner lived in the valley. When he returned to the depot, he asked Lonnie Duncan if he ever saw Mrs Cartoffel in the valley. When Lonnie told him what had happened so many years ago, Caleb felt as if his guts had been ripped open. In pain, in anger, he vaulted into his wagon and started down the road into the valley. Half way to the village, he overtook Judah. 

Screaming imprecations at him, accusing him of murder, he cracked his whip, sending it around Judah's neck, then jerked it, pulling Judah from his horse and breaking his neck. He threw Judah's body into his wagon, vowing the man would never sleep next to his beloved Peggy. He made his way, unseen, to the southern end of the gold lake and threw the body of his hated rival into its waters, his whip still wrapped around the corpse's neck.

The girls became anxious when their father's horse returned without him and alerted the commandant at the fort, still the only representative of law in the area. The young captain was at the cottages two days later when his aide called from the lake shore. Floating, barely breaking the surface, about fifteen feet from shore, was a man's body. When it was pulled ashore, it was easily identified. So was the whip, with Caleb's initials burned into the handle, still around the corpse's neck.

The girls were aware of the story involving their mother and Caleb Younger. Seeing the monogram, and understanding the implication, they glanced at each other and a series of nods was exchanged.

Both of the men recalled seeing Caleb on the road to the village on their way to the lake. They headed back into the village, and went to the carter's village depot. As soon as the men left, the girls joined hands. At the depot, Lonnie said he thought Caleb was out in the workshop and directed the two men out back to the fairly new building.

When they got to the out building, they tried the door and found it locked. They knocked and got no response. The sergeant looked in a window near the door. The sight made him yell. He advised the captain to break the door down, which was quickly done. In the middle of the room, hanging from a beam twelve feet from the floor, Caleb Younger was hanging, naked, a whip around his neck, over the beam, wrapped around his legs, the handle shoved into his ass. The floor around him was clear. The closest bench, a good ten feet away.

While the captain examined the body, the sergeant examined the building. "Uhh, Captain?"

"Yes, Sergeant?"

"Have you looked at the windows and doors?"

"No, why?"

"Sir, they have all been locked from the inside."

"Hmm. Did we not see this man on the road this afternoon?"

"Yessir. About the doors..."

"Yes, sergeant, I heard you. This man has been dead at least eight hours. What do you know about these lash marks on his back?"

"Several years ago, Judah Cartoffel, the other dead man, caught this man trying to convince his wife to run off. Judah laid into him with his own whip."

"So, we have a corpse hanging in a manner we can't explain, in a locked room no one could have exited. A corpse we both saw a couple of hours ago as alive as either of us, but appearing to have died several hours ago. Well, you better cut him down. Here, use my saber."

The saber cut the hardened leather on the first strike, dropping the corpse to the floor. Because of the way the legs were wrapped, when the feet hit the floor, the legs folded and it appeared the body actually sat down on the floor, driving the whip handle completely inside. There was an accompanying keening sound from somewhere, as if some one was in pain. 

The whip, in sliding over the beam and coming to the floor, hit an oil lantern, sending oil and flames across the floor of the workshop. The workbenches and crates stacked in the building burst into flame with unnatural speed. Both men ran from the building with no thought for taking the corpse with them. In discussing the situation before help arrived to quell the flames, they decided to say nothing about the death, except that the man had committed suicide. Help was too late to save the building.

"During the period we were learning about sex from our father," Bobbi was saying, "he told us about his powers. We had all, individually, learned we each had some ability to influence people and events. Papa directed us to a trunk in his room. There were several old books he had inherited from his parents. Spells, incantations, recipes for potions. There really is one for toe of frog, eye of newt..."

"Bobbi, be serious!" Micki interrupted.

"Spoilsport," she grinned. "Generally, the men in the valley have left us alone, except for some brief periods when we each attempted marriage. It was hard to explain why we didn't age. 

"Now and then, an occasional drunk, or brave high schooler who has something to prove, or a tramp will wander into the cottage area. We make sure they don't remember, and we entice them to stay until we are able to replenish our supply of man seed. 

"But as time has gone on, we find we need more to maintain ourselves, and away from the lake's enchantment, we notice we age more and faster, so that it takes us longer to recover. Had you been here a few hours earlier, I'm afraid you would have been quite shocked to see me, more even than you were at the beginning of my tale.

"Do you believe me, Rick, or do you have any questions?" Her expression was one of seriousness, anxiousness, her forehead wrinkled, her eyes questioning.

He nodded, slowly, saying, "I can't believe it!"

"Which? You're nodding yes, saying no. What can't you believe?"

"You did say your father's name was Judah Cartoffel, and he was a trader with the Indian tribes in the 1840's?"

"Yes, our father and our teacher."

Rick shook his head slowly. "My father passed away a few years ago and my mother gave me the job of going through his papers to see what needed to be saved and what could be pitched. There was a letter from my great grandmother to my grandfather explaining, clarifying, the circumstances surrounding his birth.

"Family legend always said she had been attacked by an Indian. Her family, her father, four brothers and her, was one of ten families traveling across the Dakota Territory, around 1860. The train had stopped by a small river, large creek, for the day. While fetching water she had seen some berry bushes upstream. She got dinner started and went to pick some berries for dessert and to share. 

"According to legend, as she was picking the berries, a lone brave attacked and raped her. In her letter, she says that was not true. She was picking berries along the creek bank. When she rounded the berry bush to where she could see the creek, she saw a naked white man emerging from the water. 

"She admitted she had been with her father and her two older brothers, a matter of convenience, to meet the men's needs; this man, she said, had the largest member she had ever seen. When he saw her, he just motioned for her to come to him. She wrote that the pleasure from the coupling was so great she fainted and never came to until her brothers splashed her with some water. It must have been pretty obvious she had had sex. 

"She let the Indian story be told out of embarrassment and an unexplainable desire to shield the man, who told her his name, Judah Cartoffel. 

By the time the train reached the Oregon Territory, it was obvious she was pregnant. Other than her brothers, there weren't many marriageable men on the train. A man who lost his wife on the trip, Jamie Stuart, spoke to her father, and she moved into his wagon for the remainder of the trip, and her long life.

"What is even stranger...My mother's great great grandmother tells a similar story about a trader who visited her family's general store in the Missouri Territory in the early 1850's. The same name, Judah Cartoffel."

Bobbie looked at Stevie, the question plain on her face. "I don't know," Stevie said. "I didn't check the past, only the future, for possibilities. He registered over 90, practically certain."

"I get the definite impression," Rick interrupted, "that my being here isn't totally due to chance."

"Not totally," Patti replied. "It's complicated. Bobbi, you better explain. You're better at that sort of thing than any of us."

"Yeah, thanks," Bobbi answered, a touch of sarcasm in her voice. "First, Rick, you have to accept that we really are witches. Four very poor witches, to be sure, individually, but when we cooperate, we are one very powerful bewitching force. When Papa was killed, we reinforced the enchantment of the valley, and added a spell attracting single men passing by. Whenever any appeared, Stevie would cast the Tarot cards to see if their futures coincided with ours."




Ladies of the Lake Ch. 03



"When you came back with Sharon, we were very concerned, but the Tarot reading was even stronger," Stevie added. "And every time you sent paperwork, I'd cast the cards again. Each time it got stronger, and here you are." She beamed.

"And you all think I'm here for a purpose?"

"Yes," Bobbi responded. "You are here to kill us."

"What did you say?"

"You are here to kill us," she went on. "Like Papa, we can get sick, we can be hurt, damaged, but for us to stop living, we must be killed, either out of love, or out of hate. Our bodies are wearing out. We think it would be nicer to die if it were out of love. So we brought you here, Rick, to kill us, after we make you love us the way our father did- -physically, emotionally."

"How," he asked, " can I fall in love with you, any of you, knowing what you want me to do?"

"That you can ask that question suggests you already have started to care. Being here, with us, means it's just a question of time. Meanwhile, we can teach you what you will need to know to manage you new home."

"Manage my home? I don't understand."

"You didn't read the sales contract we sent you, or the deed I left, did you? When I deposited the check you sent with the signed contract, you gained title to all the land and rights between State Road 35, the two lane, and County Road 17, City Line Road, between the land formation known as Indian Peaks, on the East, and the summit of the range known as the Golden Hills, on the West. In short, you own the entire valley, including the land rights to the village of Gold Lake, and the rents from the leaseholds, a little over $25,000 per month. 

"It's a trifle ironic you are so tied to the family. There are "witchy' things you must learn about the lake to maintain the mild climate, things about the trees to manage their growth and harvest, about your house, and this one, about the driveway, the landscaping. About you, and how to access the hidden talents I'm certain you have."

Rick shook his head. "It's all too much. After last night, and this morning. This all just seems like a bad dream. I think I need to sleep, and then in the morning, check all my reality indicators. Ladies, thank you for an entertaining, if somewhat disturbing, evening." He pushed back his chair and stood up. Each of the sisters came to him, embraced him, and gave him a friendly kiss on the lips,

Bobbi, second youngest, of the sisters, was last. "Don't fret about it, Rick. With what you told us about your family, I'm certain you are meant to be here, to help us. Sleep well. We will see you in the morning."

Rick fell asleep almost as soon as he hit the pillow. His dreams were of Indians, muleskinners, wagon trains, and closed room mysteries. He dreamt of his great grandmother who had died when he was in primary school. And of his great great grandmother, of whom he had heard and her fantastic story about the mysterious visitor who had left her pregnant and in need of a husband. Finally he dreamed of the four sisters, and their story about their father, his great grandfather, and, if family history was to be believed, his great great grand father, "making them his great aunts, really great aunts, sexy great aunts," was his waking thought.

Upon waking, his next conscious thought was to attend to his bladder's complaint. Coming back into the bedroom, he saw someone standing looking out of the window. Because of the backlighting he could not tell which of the sisters it was, but from the short hair guessed it was Bobbi or Patti. Approaching her, he discovered her blonde locks, and felt the rush of blood to his groin. He slid his hands around Bobbi's waist, saying, "Good morning," as he bent to kiss the side of her neck. "You are a pleasant sight to wake to."

"Mm, good morning to you, too," she returned, leaning back against him, pressing her ass into him. "I see all of you has woken up."

"No apologies. Seeing you against the light, revealing all your lovely curves would raise the dick on a stone statue." She laughed, a delightful sound which aroused little Charlie even more. His hands slid up her body to cradle her B-cup breasts. One hand began to caress the breast it cradled, seeking to bring her nipple to prominence. The other continued moving up between her lovlies to the ribbon tying her nightgown closed. He found an end and pulled it gently, loosening the tie. Pulling the sides apart, he nibbled her ear lobe, whispering, "If this isn't..."

"Don't stop!" No louder than a whisper, the force behind the words made it a shout. Her hands moved between them, finding his staff.

His hands moved inside her gown, lightly gliding over her breasts and belly, sometimes grazing her bush, other times her nips, always just firm enough not to tickle. He moved them up to her shoulders, pushing the gown off. She let it fall to the floor. He picked her up, cradled in his arms and carried her to the bed.

As he lay down beside her, his lips found her nipple and started nibbling. The arm around her shoulders moved so his hand could caress her other breast and nipple. His free hand started running up and down her thigh. She found his staff and started gently stroking it, smearing the fluids from it over its length.

Rick moved his kisses into the valley of her mammas and continued down past her navel, through her bush, to the sounds of her delighted "oohs," "aahs," and "mmms." When his tongue passed over her joy button, she said' "uunghh," and tensed, then started shaking and quivering, emitting, "uh uh uh uh."

Rick started to back off until she grabbed his hair and pulled his face closer to her. He continued his tongue caresses, varying them from rapid flicks to more leisurely lapping and licking, sometimes focusing on her clit, occasionally encompassing the entire area. 

Bobbi gradually ceased her shaking and quivering, but remained tense as a guitar string, her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him tightly in her pussy. Suddenly, she let out a loud "aaarghh," and relaxed, slumping back onto the bed, releasing Rick. He pulled himself up beside her, as she lay there, panting, recovering.

"Hmm," he said, smiling, "I guess that won't work as a way to kill you." Bobbi laughed and pulled him to her for a passionate kiss.

"Maybe," she said softly as they separated, "you should try this spear that you keep trying to stick into me."

Grinning, as he repositioned himself, he replied "It's certainly worth a try." He entered her gently, beginning his rhythmic thrusting slowly, allowing her to accommodate to his presence. Her moans of pleasure urged him to increase not only his speed but also the force of his thrusting. She moved her hips matching his motion, and maximizing the contact of her pleasure center with him. 

As his speed and force increased, Rick became aware that Bobbi's movements were becoming more erratic. He pulled back, leaving her. He turned her over, forcing her onto her stomach. He entered her again, with a single thrust; his hands found their way under her, one for a breast, the other to her clit. 

He resumed pumping at a rapid pace, putting maximum pressure on her G-spot, while manipulating her clit in rhythm with his hips. Bobbi was back to her previous level of arousal quickly. As the combined stimulation continued, her vaginal walls began to spasm, clamping Rick in their velvet folds. The increased pressure soon stimulated both to the point of explosion. 

Bobbi lay there on her stomach, reveling in the pressure of Sam's weight on her back, and the feel of his cock slowly softening in her. As the couple gained control of their breathing, Rick shrank out of his lover and rolled off her to lay on his side, saying, "I think that'll kill me before it does you."

Bobbi rolled to her side, and moved to him, pressing her breasts to his chest. "You'll just have to keep trying. I'm sure you'll find a way."

"Sounds like a plan. Do I concentrate on you, or should I spread these trials around all of the sisters?"

"Much as I would love to be your only experimental subject, I'm afraid my sisters are already on their way to join us, and take my place for the next round of trials. Stevie would have had orgasms only slightly less intense than the ones I just had, and Patti and Micki had some that would have interrupted any activity they were engaged in except masturbating. One of the mixed benefits of being quadruplets."



Ladies of the Lake Ch. 04



Rick realizes his potential as a warlock, finds a solution to the Aunts' problem, reunites with Sharon and raises a family. I hope you have enjoyed my small tale. jb7

*

For the next several weeks, Rick was engaged in a crash course on how to consciously tap into the magic which the sisters were sure he had. As he practiced with them, he became aware that what everyone had attributed to his skill as a salesman was in reality the unconscious use of that ability. Like the old trader, his ancestor, he had used his power to peddle his wares. Once he made that connection, he progressed fairly rapidly.

With a pair of sisters in tow, he made several trips into the city to practice on the unsuspecting citizens. At a fancy dinner club, he got them seated at a center table by a snooty head waiter even though they were in beach wear. Another time, he talked a patrolman out of writing a ticket for parking by a fire hydrant. 

In early October, he took two of the sisters shopping for lingerie in the Mall. Waiting for them outside the store as they conferred with a clerk, he bedeviled the clerk by unfastening her bra as she talked with the sisters. She excused herself three times to take care of the problem. The last time, when she returned, it was plain she had left the bra off. He briefly considered trying to remove her thong, but decided it might lead to problems he wasn't capable of handling yet.

When he returned to the lake from that trip there was a message from Sharon, asking if he would meet her at the apartment. He returned the call, and, when she answered, made arrangements to meet her there at lunch time, the next day. He offered to bring lunch, and was slightly surprised when she requested lo mein, a dish she normally did not eat.

As he rang the bell to the apartment, having left his key when he moved to the lake, Rick wondered why Sharon would be calling. The door buzzed and he heard the lock click, releasing the door. He quickly climbed the three flights of stairs to their floor. The door was already open for him. He walked in and headed for the kitchen, closing the door behind him. 

Sharon was waiting, leaning with her back against the sink. He almost dropped their lunch. "Omigawd!" He exclaimed, gawking at his one time fiancé, apparently five months pregnant . 

"Hi to you, too, Rick," Sharon laughed. "I guess that's better than some of the responses I was anticipating." She walked to him and managed an A-frame hug, along with a kiss to his cheek. "Which sister was it that warned us about multiple births? Micki? I don't remember, but I think she put a curse on me. At first, the doctor thought I was having twins, but my last visit, a couple of weeks ago, they confirmed at least three, and maybe four heartbeats."

"When are you due?"

"Late March, early April." He rapidly counted backward.

"So, it's pretty certain it was the night at the lake. What's what's his name, Josh, think?"

"I don't know, and at this point, I don't really care. After we left you that day, I saw him once more, when he told me he had to return to Venezuela for treatment. He's been gone since Labor Day."

"You should have called me."

"I wanted to, and I should have, but I listened to my parents. I wasn't showing too much yet, and they didn't know. They were upset because you left without giving us a chance to explain."

As Rick listened to her, he had a series of 'witchly' insights. The sudden reappearance of one thought to be dead, who by all logic, given his physical condition, should have been dead. The absence of Sharon's name on the deed. His ancestry and the needs of the sisters. How his relationship with Sharon would interfere with what he now considered his mission. Her voice intruded on his thoughts.

"I tried calling your work, but they said you had resigned. What are you doing now?"

"It's sort of a private schooling, or apprenticeship. I guess you could say I'm learning to be a magician of sorts." he paused a moment, looking at her baby belly. " Would you like to come out to the lake for dinner this Saturday?" he asked. "I know the sisters would be delighted to see you again. They were very upset when I told them I didn't know when or if you'd be joining me."

"I guess we still have to answer those questions." she replied. "What do you think?"

"I think the answer to the second question is yes, and the second answer is as soon as I can get the house straightened out."

She beamed, throwing her arms around him. "Thank you. That's what I was hoping to hear. We will probably have to wait for a bit longer than it will take you to clean your house though. The doctor wants me to stop working by Thanksgiving, so I have to get stuff wrapped up and transferred. But I'll be able to join you before Christmas. And dinner would be nice. I'll enjoy seeing the sisters."

"Can you stay the night?"

She laughed. "Are you sure that's a good idea. Look what happened the last time."

"Well," he said, in a mock serious tone, gazing at her abdomen,"it sure can't get much worse."

Back at the lake, he called all the sisters together. "Ladies, either you are totally unaware of the scope of your powers, which I absolutely do not believe, or you have lied to me." When they started to object, he raised his hand and quieted them. "I saw my fiancé this afternoon, and while talking with her about her experiences since that night, I had a number of insights.

"I don't know if it was chance that sent me down Gold Lake road that day, or Fate, or if somehow your enchantment recognized a relative and called to me. But I am pretty sure that everything that has happened since has been manipulated.

"Stevie, maybe you didn't check out my ancestry, but your cards identified me as the individual you all needed to accomplish your goal, right?"

She nodded, slowly, and started to speak, "But..."

"Not yet. One of you, Micki or Patti, came up with the idea, after meeting Sharon, of reviving her dead lover and returning him to her, just long enough to get my participation. I'm guessing Patti. Right?"

Another nod, this one with some tears.

"Don't cry, Patti. I'm not at all angry at what you, all of you, did, and I guess I'm not even really upset at how you did it, or that you had to deceive me. I realize that if you had tried to approach me while my relationship with Sharon was intact, I would have reported you to adult protectives as being in need of some sort of psychotropic medication. The only remaining question, is the love I feel for you, individually and collectively, is that love the result of a spell or enchantment?"

Bobbi spoke. "Rick, there is no question that we were unconscionably devious in our initial dealing with you and with Sharon. But since you have returned, the only enchantments that have been in force are the ones which keep us looking young. The only spell you are under is the one Nature creates. And I think I can speak for us all, we are under the same spell. We love you as much as you love us." Rick nodded his understanding, heaved a huge sigh, and smiled.

The sisters laughed and sighed with relief. Their interaction with Rick over the past several weeks had had the effect they wanted, he was in love with them. There had been an unseen side effect- -they were also in love with him. All of them.

"There is some good news, a lot of it," Rick started. "Sharon is coming for dinner Saturday, and will probably spend the night. She will probably, also, be moving in with me around the first of December." He could feel the chill in the room. "And I think she may have an answer to how to better accomplish your goal. She's carrying quadruplets. Micki, she thinks you cursed her. Did you?"

"I wish. If I could do that, we wouldn't have had to deceive you the way we did. Are you thinking of us transferring to Sharon's babies?"

"Can that be done?"

"The problem is what to do with the old bodies, and how to explain to the mother what is happening."

"Does she need to be awake?"

"No, just available."

"Is Saturday too soon?"

"A bit," said Bobbi. "There's some business we have to take care of, transferring the bank accounts and rents to you, setting up a story to account for our absence, getting the new deed recorded so there isn't any problem for you when we've gone."

"And," interposed Micki, "we really need to review the process for transference. Rick, you are going to need to know how to work it, too, because you will be doing the last one of us. As I recall, it's not all that complicated, but if you make a mistake, there isn't any second chance to make it right." 

They spent the remainder of the week getting the business tasks completed. The deed giving Rick title was duly recorded, and he became the receiver of the rents from the leaseholds in the village. The sisters explained to the villagers they came in contact with that they had decided to travel, taking a two year trip around the world, and then they were planning to settle in Europe. Rick was a member of their family, and would continue things in the valley as they had been for so long.

Bobbi became his witchcraft instructor. In addition to rehearsing the transference spell, she had him practicing other complicated spells, building up his skill, power, and confidence. He would need all three to be successful in making the transfer. 

They decided to make the transfer on Thanksgiving, after the meal, figuring Sharon would be most likely to go into a deep sleep after eating. When Bobbi called to invite her for dinner, she learned Sharon was already committed to dinner with her parents. Bobbi then suggested Friday, explaining the sisters were scheduled to depart for NYC, to begin their trek, on Saturday. Sharon readily agreed to the date.

Thursday, the night before the transfer was to happpen, Rick and the sisters sat around the kitchen table in his house. "I am going to miss you all so much," he told them. "These past few months with you have been some of the most exciting, pleasurable, sexy times I can ever remember. If it weren't for the possibility of transferring you to Sharon's babies, I don't think I would have been able..." and his voice broke.

Patti put her arm around his shoulder, drawing his face into her breasts. "We understand, Rick. Look at everything that has happened. You and your ancestry, showing up here when you did, coming back with Sharon and getting her pregnant, with quadruplets, yet. It is as if somebody planned it. Whether it is part of the lake's enchantment, or fate, call it what you will, I think our plan isn't really ours, but part of Somebody's bigger plan."

As she talked, Rick became aware of the feel of her breasts against his cheek, and the growth and erection of her nipples. There was also the faint scent of arousal about her. When she finished talking and released his head, he sat up and looked at her. Her eyes were wide open, bright, widely dilated, her cheeks flushed. Without a word, he pulled her to him for a kiss, their mouths open before contact was made. 

Practically before she knew she had made the decision, Patti was sitting on Ricks lap, facing him, straddling his thighs. While he unbuttoned her blouse, she was pulling at his belt. Within seconds, they noticed helping hands, and they were naked in a heartbeat. Patti wasted no time on foreplay. As soon as Rick's tool was clear, she positioned herself and sank down to his legs, totally encompassing his eight inches.

She propelled herself up and down on his shaft, moving her hips to maximize her stimulation. In less than five minutes, she was wrapping her arms around his head, pulling him back to her breasts, hissing, "Yessss," into his ear, as he felt her clamp down on his crown. As soon as she regained control of her breathing, she stood up, slowly pulling herself off Rick's still erect rod. Before anyone could move, Micki replaced her, engaging Rick in a tonsil cleansing kiss while she rode his dick like she was in a race for the roses. Her climax was announced by a high pitched squeal while she attempted to massage Rick's vocal cords. 

She was replaced immediately by Stevie who started her climax on her slide down his pole. She continued to climax for three or four minutes, and only ceased when she fainted on Rick. Laughing and saying something about her never being able to handle her liquor (licker?), Micki and Patti lifted her off and carried her to the futon in Rick's living room. 

When they returned to the kitchen to get their clothes, Bobbi and Rick hadn't moved. The two brunettes smiled, kissed them both good night, and suggested they not stay up too late because tomorrow was a big day. When they were gone, Rick stood up and offered Bobbi his hand. Together they went upstairs. "I'm going to miss you most of all," he said, as he entered her for the last time.

The time for the transfer was finally upon them. Sharon arrived mid-afternoon, to offer her help preparing the meal. Throughout the day, and over the meal, she shared the latest details of her pregnancy- - there were definitely four fetuses, all girls. The doctors conjectured that she had originally conceived fraternal twins, each of which twinned. It was a rare occurrence, but not unheard of. So far, everyone was healthy, with no complications.

The sisters shared their plans for the trip. They were planning to drive across country to NYC since they had never really seen any of the country outside their valley, and the best way to begin to see the world was to see their own country first, they opined.

It was a lovely warm night, and after dinner, Stevie suggested they sit by the lake for a bit, to enjoy their last night in the valley. Everyone quickly agreed. Even with all the stimulation, the meal, the pregnancy, and the day soon had its effect on Sharon, and she fell into a deep sleep.

The sisters soon had bared her baby bump, and then quickly stripped. Bobbi was to transfer her sisters and then be transferred by Rick. Micki was to go first. She embraced Rick and kissed him, cleaning his tonsils. "Next time I see you, you'll be my Daddy. I wonder how much of this I, we'll remember. I love you." Then she turned to Bobbi and embraced her. 

Bobbi held her tightly, then placed one hand on Sharon's bump and intoned the incantation. At first, it looked like nothing was happening. Then Micki's body seemed to light up inside. The light collapsed into a tiny ball which could be seen entering Bobbi's chest and traveling from her heart through the arm in contact with Sharon. 

When it reached her hand, the light seemed to spread over Sharon's bump, then funnel into her abdomen through her navel. The light was visible as it entered her womb, and seemed to concentrate in one area, then disappear. When the light entered Bobbi, Micki's body seemed to turn to dust and dissipate, the breeze carrying it over, and depositing it on the lake.

"Did it work?" asked Rick.

"It looks like it worked," said Bobbi, "That's what the manual said would happen. There really isn't anyway to tell. When the babies start to develop personalities, maybe you'll be able to tell. But this is better than we were anticipating. Thank you, Rick, and thank Sharon for us." 

"I will." Stevie was the next to go. As she embraced him, to say good-bye, he noticed that she seemed to have aged ten or fifteen years suddenly. She kissed him and tearfully bid him farewell, then turned to Bobbi, who repeated the incantation. Again, as the light left her body, it turned to dust and disappeared over the lake. Rick looked at Patti, who seemed to age even more before his eyes.

She moved into his arms. "It's all part of the process," she said, smoothing the wrinkles on his forehead with her hand. "The four of us together could withstand the ravages of age, but without all of us, it will take its toll. Thank you for this, Rick. I really hope it works. I want to come back and drive you crazy as a teenager," she smiled and kissed him. She then stepped into Bobbi's arms and was soon dust on the wind.

"Oh, Rick, don't look at me. I don't want you to remember me like this."

"I won't. When I think of you, I'll remember you standing in the window that Sunday morning after I moved in, the first morning we made love."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. "Just be warned," she said, "we all intend to fuck you silly when we're old enough, and I'm pretty sure our new Momma will agree."

"I'll be looking forward to it," he grinned, then frowned. "Much as I hate to send you away, it's getting chilly, and Sharon looks like she's starting to waken." He reached out and recited the incantation just like he had heard Bobbi say it. 

When the light glowed within her, he saw Bobbi as she was when he met her first, then he felt a jolt, like an electric shock, as the light entered his chest. As her body dissipated and was spread over the golden waters, he was filled with a tremendous feeling of love and loss as the light sped through him and entered Sharon. 

After the light dimmed, he adjusted Sharon's clothes and woke her enough so she could walk to the house. He pulled out the futon and helped her into the bed. He slipped in beside her, but did not sleep. He lay there wondering if what he had done was the right thing. 

The next several years were busy for Rick and Sharon, but not onerous. The remainder of the pregnancy was problem free. Sharon elected a traditional, vaginal delivery. While lengthy, there were no complications. However, it seemed to take a lot out of her, and she was a long time recovering. She attempted breast feeding, but was not able to keep up with four hungry girls and soon turned to commercial supplements.

Two of the girls were tow heads, as Sharon had been as a baby. She expected they would darken to her honey blonde as they matured. The other girls seemed to have Rick's raven black hair, which she attributed to the influence of the Indian blood she had heard about in his family.

They were bright, boisterous, and somewhat clannish, preferring to play amongst themselves, even when other children were about. Even as toddlers, they seemed at times maturely serious, with an awareness and empathy which was uncanny. While she had no cause for concern or jealousy when it came to the girls' affections, it was clear they adored their father and preferred him to hold them over all comers. 

Rick had learned how to put his power to work. He had negotiated a series of rent increases in the village, doubling them, but keeping them very reasonable. He used the increases to fund some needed improvements in the village, as well as establishing some businesses attractive to tourists, which increased the income for all the villagers. 

He also convinced a couple of the better cooks in the village to partner with him in a pair of bed and breakfasts, one catering to honeymooners, the other to people who simply needed to escape and be coddled. Once established, neither was empty more than a day a month. 

Using these successes, he promoted himself as a motivational speaker. He used his powers in his presentations to entertain his audience and keep their attention focused on him. Participants always left feeling better about themselves and what they were doing, secure in the knowledge that, to succeed, they just needed to do more of it, better.

He was away on one of these seminars the year the girls were thirteen, when Sharon suffered a massive stroke. She was dead before she hit the floor. Rick was shocked, destroyed. 

Their relationship had been the envy of the valley. The affection between them, in the family, was plain to see. Physical contact in public, from pets and pats, to hand holding, to light kissing was common, and unselfconscious. It did not seem planned to impress, but a natural expression of their love. 




Ladies of the Lake Ch. 04



The love on their faces when looking at each other was sometimes a topic of amusement in the valley, but just as often spoken of with a tinge of longing by both the women and men who observed it. Had they been able to see into the bedroom on the second floor of the large cottage, it would have been more than envy. After thirteen years of marriage, when most couples were averaging three or four times a month making love, Rick and Sharon were still like newlyweds, three or four times a week.

Rick was back in the valley the day after she died. He arranged for her cremation and scheduled a ceremony by the lake when he would scatter her ashes over the lake she had come to love. Her parents were there, and approved of his choice. Frequent visitors, they, too, loved the lake, and were waiting for a vacancy in the village so they could move into the valley.

After everyone had left the wake, Rick was a little surprised when his daughters asked if they could sleep in his bed that night. They needed his presence, his comfort, they said. That night, for the first time in thirteen years, he dreamt of Bobbi. She was standing in the window, as she had been that Sunday morning when he came back to his bedroom. She turned, tears in her eyes. 

"Rick, we are so sorry. None of us anticipated this. If there is anything you need, ask your girls. We will find a way. If it is any comfort, Sharon did not suffer. We love you. See you soon."

When he woke, each daughter was wrapped around one of his limbs. Sharon had named them, consciously or unconsciously, giving them the same names as her lovely neighbors--Roberta, Patricia, Michaela, and Stephany. They were called, respectively, Bertie, Trish, Mouse, and Steph.

 At thirteen, they were all legs and arms, busts just beginning to bud. Thankfully, Sharon had been able to coach them through their first periods. As he lay there, entangled in their bodies, he made the decision that he would give up his traveling; the girls were going to need a parent full time.

On their fourteenth birthday, Rick gathered the girls around him, and nearly word for word, gave them the same speech Judah had given them. Seeing some puzzled looks, he asked them, "Does this all sound familiar, as if you had heard it before." Each of the daughters nodded. "Sit down; I need to tell you a story."

When he was finished, Bertie was the first to speak, "Poor Momma. Did she know we, the old we, were witches?"

"No; if she had, or if she had suspected, I doubt that we would be here now."

Patti spoke up next, "Thank you for telling us. I was starting to think I was imagining things. If there was something I wanted real bad, or wanted someone to do, it always seemed to happen for me lately." She shook her head, puzzling. "Were we born with the power, do you think, Papa, or is it because your aunts are part of us?"

"I don't know; it could be either or both. The only evidence I have that the transfer really occurred successfully is the dream I had the night we scattered your mother's ashes." He pulled her close. "Until I can train you, I have to ask you to try to refrain from using your powers.

"And I am going to forbid you using it when it comes to school work. You are all bright enough so your only problem in school is how not to be bored. I'll be speaking with your teachers about advanced work for all of you, to keep you challenged, and to aid your witch training.

"Yes, Papa," they all answered with a heavy sigh, then laughed. His warning, he knew and they knew, was totally unnecessary- -all the girls loved learning and were looking forward to the challenge the advanced work promised.

By the time the girls were eighteen it was clear that, in naming them, Sharon had matched their names to the transferred entities. With minor variations in hair color and skin tones, they were virtual images of the women Rick had first met nearly twenty years ago, with a strong dose of Sharon added to their features.

With the help of the Internet and distance learning programs, the girls had been able to pursue their individual interests, and had achieved whatever maximum degree they wanted. They had taken an active interest in Rick's business affairs in the village, and it was not uncommon to see a pair of the sisters on the streets at any time of day.

As young as 15, they were courted by the single men in town. Even then, they would date, but only in pairs. If the men tried to separate them, the girls simply refused. If the men tried to force the issue, one or both usually was hit with a severe migraine, sometimes lasting for days. The men in the village soon learned that with the Stuart girls, it was double or nothing. Try as the men might, however, the girls' virtue remained intact

A week before their eighteenth birthday, Rick dreamt of Bobbi again, of Bobbi, Patti, Micki, and Stevie. It looked like they were all gathered around a TV camera, each trying to be the central focus. They were all reminding him of his daughters' birthday, and of their promise to "fuck him silly."

He woke suddenly. He remembered Bobbi's last words, and his answer that he would look forward to it. "Could he? Would he? No matter how it was cut, how it was presented, what was being proposed was plain and simple incest. There was no candy coating you could put on it to change the flavor. It was, plainly and simply, wrong, wasn't it? 

"Wasn't he, himself, the product of an incestuous relationship? Unknown for a couple of generations, but still? Were the rules different for witches? They had been for the Pharaohs, and for European royalty. And he had slept with his aunts, okay, great aunts, but...

"This is father/daughter incest. Isn't that different? More forbidden. It didn't seem to bother Judah. But, then, why worry? It wasn't like it was going to happen. Not with his well put together daughters, mentally well put together, that is. The other way too, he had to admit. All four were beautiful, stacked, whoa did he just say that about his girls? 

"Don't go there, that way was nothing but trouble. But if the transfer had happened, and the original sisters were laying in wait, bad choice of words, laying, uh, lying in wait, not good, but better. If they were there, lying in wait, who knew what the fuck could happen, damn, gotta get away from suggestive language, otherwise I'll talk myself into bed with them. Damn, that does sound ...NO!!" 

He got out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom to drain his bladder. The smaller bedroom had become too small for the four girls long ago, and he had moved into the smaller room, giving them the Master bedroom and the babymaker bed. No danger there, with four women. On the way back, as he passed the open door to their room, he glanced in and was immediately frozen in his tracks. 

It had been over 12 years since he had seen his daughters nude. Since the talk on their fourteenth birthday, he had not really looked at them, seeing only his 'little girls.' There, in a jumble, were four of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, all sleeping in barely there shortie pjs. His cock gave the appropriate priapic salute to their beauty. A giggle echoed from the bedroom.

"I guess you like what you see, huh, Papa?" It was Steph. "Wait 'til next week, and our birthday surprise for you."